by R. L. Stine
As I spooned up the cereal, I peered down at the yellow sand. White rocks poked up through the sand like bones. As we slowly dropped, the shadow of the plane slid over the sand, a long gray shadow.
We bounced down on a small runway between two low yellow hills. The plane hit hard. The milk splashed out of my cereal bowl.
I could see a long white stucco airport. As we rolled to a stop, I saw a row of green Jeeps. Brown-uniformed soldiers with rifles. Clusters of people in white robes.
The plane stopped with a jolt. I was thrown forward against the seatbelt.
Lieutenant Henry appeared in the cockpit doorway. “Sorry about the landing, Excellency,” he said. “The runway is a bit too short for this large plane.”
“Where are we?” I demanded angrily. “Why did you bring me here? Why do you keep calling me Excellency?”
“Come,” he said, motioning for me to undo the seatbelt. The cabin door slid open. Bright sunlight streamed in. “I’m sure that General Rameer will explain everything to you.”
I unbuckled the belt, but I didn’t stand up. “Am I being kidnapped? Am I?”
He smiled for the first time. His dark eyes flashed merrily, as if I had made a joke.
“Of course not,” he replied.
Lieutenant Henry led me out into the bright sunlight. As we stepped onto a metal stairway, I had to shield my eyes from the glare. A blast of hot, dry air greeted me.
Our shoes clanged down the stairway. Four stern-looking soldiers met us at the bottom. Lieutenant Henry nodded to them. They gave him a two-fingered salute.
Standing back by the little airport, I saw a crowd of people. Some were in white robes. Some were in camouflage shirts and pants. Some wore brightly colored shirts and shorts.
They all were cheering. Many of them waved green pennant-shaped banners. At the side of the building, a small band was playing.
Was this all for me?
“This is totally crazy,” I murmured.
With Lieutenant Henry at my side, I followed the four soldiers across the airfield. They led us to a long black limousine parked at the end of the runway.
A dark-uniformed driver bowed and pulled open the back door of the enormous car. The soldiers stepped aside, walking stiffly in rhythm.
“Get in, Excellency,” Lieutenant Henry urged. “Climb into the car. General Rameer awaits you.”
I hesitated. The hot sun beamed down on me, but I still felt a cold chill run down my back.
I’m a million miles from home, I thought. Nowhere to run. No way to escape.
I lowered my head and peered into the car.
Sitting on the red leather seat was a large, smiling man in a white linen suit. He had curly white hair above a slender, tanned face. A stubble of dark beard on his cheeks and chin. Flashing black eyes.
He held a shiny black cane between his legs. A green-jeweled ring sparkled on the pinky finger of his right hand.
He waved for me to climb in beside him. “Welcome, Excellency,” he called out in a hoarse voice.
I leaned into the doorway. “Why are you calling me that?” I cried.
And then I couldn’t hold it back. All of my anger, all of my fear and confusion burst out of me.
“I demand to see my parents!” I screamed. “I’m not getting into your car! I want to talk to my parents right now!”
General Rameer’s smile faded quickly. His eyes dulled. His whole face appeared to darken.
“I’m sorry, Michael,” he said softly. “Your parents are no longer alive.”
I gasped. And grabbed the limo door to steady myself.
“Huh? My parents—?”
General Rameer nodded sadly.
“But—they took me to the airport in New York yesterday!” I cried. “They saw me onto the plane and—”
“Do you mean the Clarkes? Those people are not your parents, Excellency,” General Rameer said.
“Not my parents?”
“They were supposed to let you know the truth before you boarded the plane.”
The note!
We are not your parents.
Was it true?
“But—I—I—” I sputtered, still gripping the limo door for support.
“Get in,” General Rameer urged. “I will not harm you. There is no need to be afraid, Michael.”
“Climb in,” Lieutenant Henry also urged, placing a firm hand on my trembling shoulder.
I gazed back toward the airport. The crowd was still cheering. The green pennants waved. The band continued to play a happy march.
The sun pounded down on me. My head throbbed painfully. I suddenly felt as if I were melting, melting into the tar of the runway.
I took a deep breath and climbed into the red leather seat beside General Rameer.
The limo door closed behind me. I felt a cold burst of air from the air-conditioning.
I turned to General Rameer. His white suit gleamed. He gripped his shiny ebony cane tightly with both hands.
He nodded to the driver. The car began to roll across the runway. Past the band and the crowd of cheering people.
I couldn’t see them clearly now. The limo windows were tinted dark gray.
“My parents—” I started.
“Don’t worry about the Clarkes,” General Rameer said softly. “They will be treated well.”
“You mean—they’re okay?” I gasped.
The general nodded. “They are being well paid for protecting you. They did a good job for the past twelve years.”
“Uh … protecting me?”
“They hid you and they protected you,” General Rameer replied.
I squinted out the tinted window, my mind whirring, trying to understand.
The big limo bounced over a narrow road. I saw rows of small white houses on one side of the car. The rolling sands of the desert stretched endlessly out the other window.
I saw people walking along the side of the road. They turned and stared at the limo as we bounced by.
“I—I don’t believe any of this,” I stammered, shaking my head.
He patted my arm. His eyes watered. His face suddenly revealed real sadness.
“I know this must be hard for you,” he said in his hoarse, whispery voice. “I know this must come as a terrible shock.”
“So … Mom and Dad—I mean, the Clarkes—” I started.
“They took you away to the United States,” General Rameer interrupted, his dark eyes locked on mine. “You were a baby. You cannot remember. They escaped with you to New York. They had their orders.”
“Orders?”
“To protect you. To keep our enemies from finding you. To bring you up as a normal boy.”
“And my real parents?” I asked.
He lowered his head until his forehead touched the tip of his cane. “Your real parents were killed in the war.”
I swallowed hard. “War?”
“Our twelve-year struggle with the rebel forces. Our twelve-year battle against those who would take control and destroy our nation.”
I stared at him, sweat pouring down my forehead despite the air-conditioning.
Struggling to take this all in. Struggling to make sense of what he was telling me.
“What is this nation?” I asked finally. “What is it called?”
His face brightened. “Jezekiah,” he told me. “Jezekiah. It is your homeland, Michael. It is your nation.”
“I—I’m very confused,” I confessed. I clasped my cold, clammy hands together in my lap.
“It is to be expected,” General Rameer said, nodding. “But the news is all good, Excellency. You see, after twelve years of war, we have won. It is finally safe for you to return and lead your people.”
I swallowed again. Was this all a joke? A lie?
I stared deep into the general’s eyes, searching for the truth. But I could see only my own reflection.
“Am I really the leader of this nation?” I finally choked out. “Is it true?”
He nodded. �
�Yes. We are driving to the Royal Palace. You will take your place as the ruler of Jezekiah.”
He gripped my arm tightly. “But first, you must prove that you really are Michael. You must prove that you really are the royal prince.”
I uttered a short gasp. “Prove it? How?”
He squeezed my arm. “It is an easy test. You must tell us the location of the mummy.”
I gaped at him. “Mummy? What mummy?”
The limo pulled through a tall iron gate onto a long, paved driveway. Two rows of palm trees leaned over us as we rolled slowly up to the Royal Palace.
My mouth dropped open as the palace came into view. An endless pink-and-white building of towers and turrets and gated courtyards. All along the drive, brown-uniformed soldiers stood guard at stiff attention, rifles raised at their waists.
As we passed a wide courtyard, I saw a bubbling waterfall splashing into a huge, tear-shaped swimming pool. Tall shrubs and clumps of palm trees provided shade all along the walk that led to the brass double doors at the front.
“This is your home, Excellency,” General Rameer said quietly. “I see you are overwhelmed.”
“I don’t believe any of this,” I confessed.
He chuckled, but his expression remained solemn. “I hope it works out for you,” he muttered under his breath.
“In ancient times, our people made mummies of the dead, just as the Egyptians did,” General Rameer explained.
The two of us were in the dining room, an enormous room with gold-papered walls, silvery curtains, and a crystal chandelier that appeared to float over us. We were seated across from each other at one end of a long, polished mahogany table.
Servants had brought out lunch—bowls piled high with fruit, dates and figs, plates of roast chicken and lamb, salads, potatoes, and rice.
When I sat down, I didn’t think I could eat. My stomach felt tied in knots. My head was still swimming from everything that I’d heard and seen.
But I was hungrier than I thought. After all, I hadn’t eaten a real meal for nearly a day. I piled my plate high. General Rameer seemed pleased to see me eat so hungrily.
And as I ate, he explained to me about the mummy.
“The mummy of the Emperor Pukrah is a national treasure, Michael,” he said, spreading a thick brown paste onto a slice of flatbread. “Pukrah was an ancient leader. Pukrah’s mummy is the oldest one known in the world.”
General Rameer tore off an end of the bread and handed it to me. The pasty stuff had a strange taste, sweet and spicy at the same time.
“Pukrah’s mummy was kept for centuries in this palace,” the general continued. “Then, twelve years ago, the rebels began their war. Your parents—our rulers—decided the mummy was no longer safe.
“They knew the rebels were desperate to capture the mummy. So your parents decided to hide the mummy where neither side could find it. And they hid something of priceless value inside the mummy.”
I swallowed a slice of chicken. Then I scooped some of the spicy potato salad onto my plate. “What did they hide?” I asked.
General Rameer tore a cluster of grapes from the bowl and popped them one by one into his mouth. “Your parents opened the mummy and hid the Jezekiah Sapphire inside.”
“The what?” I asked.
“It is the most beautiful jewel in the world,” General Rameer gushed, clapping his hands together. He suddenly had a dreamy look in his eyes. “The sapphire is so valuable, our entire treasury is based on it.”
I squinted across the table at him. I didn’t really know what he meant. But I could see by the expression on his face that the Jezekiah Sapphire had to be worth big bucks.
“Our nation cannot survive without it,” General Rameer said, leaning close. “For twelve years, the war was fought. The rebels searched desperately for Pukrah’s mummy. They knew if they found the mummy—and the jewel— that victory was theirs.
“But your parents hid the mummy well. It was not found.” He sighed and picked up another handful of grapes.
“Now the war is nearly ended,” he said in his hoarse voice. “A few rebels remain. But we have won. We must find the mummy and claim the sapphire.”
I dropped my fork. “You mean—you don’t know where it’s hidden?”
General Rameer shook his head. “Your parents didn’t tell anyone. And then they died as the war began. No one here knows the mummy’s hiding place. Not me. Not any of the other generals.”
He leaned even closer, and his dark eyes burned into mine. “We must have that mummy. Our nation cannot survive without it.”
He grabbed my wrist tightly. “And you, Michael. You are the only one who knows where it is hidden.”
“Huh? I do?” I tried to free my arm. But he kept his tight grasp on my wrist, his eyes frozen on mine.
“You were a tiny baby. Your parents planted a memory chip in your brain telling the mummy’s hiding place. Then you were rushed away to the United States where the secret would be safe.”
“Oh. I see.” What a lame reply.
But what was I supposed to say?
My mouth suddenly felt dry as cotton again. I took a long drink from the crystal water goblet.
General Rameer finally let go of my wrist. But he didn’t turn away his gaze. He didn’t blink. He stared at me as if trying to find the mummy’s hiding place in my eyes.
“It is good to have you back where you belong,” he said, forcing a short, tense smile. “What a pity that your parents cannot see what a fine young man you have grown to be.”
“Uh … thank you,” I replied awkwardly. I took another long drink. A servant stepped forward with a silver pitcher to refill my glass.
“Now you will lead us to the mummy and the sapphire,” General Rameer said. “And the nation will be so happy to have you—its true leader—back home.”
“Uh … yeah,” I replied, nervously ruffling the white linen napkin in my lap.
“Do you wish to tell me the mummy’s hiding place now?” General Rameer asked softly. “All of Jezekiah is waiting to hear.”
I took a deep breath. “Well …”
I froze in panic. My heart did a flip-flop in my chest.
Do I know where the mummy is? I asked myself.
No. No way. I don’t have a clue.
General Rameer stared at me, waiting. Waiting for my answer.
All of Jezekiah is waiting for my answer, I realized, gripping the edge of the table.
When they find out I don’t know anything, I could be in real danger.
What am I going to do?
What am I going to tell him?
Think of something, Michael … think!
I let my hands slide off the table edge and uttered a loud groan.
I rolled my eyes up in my head. Tilted my body … tilted …
… until I fell off the chair, onto my side on the carpet.
“Ow!”
I landed harder than I had planned.
Above me, I heard General Rameer cry out in surprise. I saw two servants come hurrying over to see what the problem was.
General Rameer climbed out of his chair and leaned over me. He gazed down with real concern. He shook me gently with both hands. “Michael? Are you okay?”
I groaned again and rolled onto my back. I blinked several times.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “I—I’m okay.”
I sat up unsteadily, blinking a few more times.
General Rameer stepped back. He let out a sigh of relief. The color came back to his face.
“It’s all … too big a shock,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “I mean … yesterday I was a kid from Long Island. Flying to meet my aunt and going to Disney World. And today
…”
“Yes, yes.” The general helped me gently to my feet. “I understand.”
He held onto me until he was sure I was steady. “You have had your whole world turned upside down, Excellency. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurry you. It is just that we must have Pukrah
and the sapphire back—immediately.”
“Yes. Of course,” I replied, swallowing.
He handed me the water goblet. “I will give you time to rest. And to think. Later, once you are feeling better, we will talk again.”
I nodded weakly and took a long drink. Two uniformed guards appeared from out of nowhere. General Rameer ordered them to take me to my quarters.
They led me down an endless hallway. The walls were covered in silky gold curtains. I gazed at a long row of enormous, gold-framed oil paintings. Portraits of old-fashioned-looking people, all dark and short and kind of chubby.
Are these really my ancestors? I wondered.
No. I was sure that General Rameer and his men made a terrible mistake. They got the wrong boy, I decided. It’s as simple as that.
And that note from my parents? Just a joke? Or did my parents somehow make the same mistake?
It was all too much to think about. I felt as if my head was bursting!
The guards led me to my quarters—not just one room, but several huge rooms around an outdoor courtyard with a tall, bubbling fountain.
I stepped into the front room, all gold and silver and red. The room was as big as my whole house back home. Filled with chairs and couches and desks and bookshelves, and furniture I didn’t even recognize!
I didn’t really get a good look. Because my eyes stopped at the telephone on the desk against the back wall.
And I knew instantly what I had to do.
I had to call Mom and Dad back home. I had to get a call through to New York. I had to explain the mistake that had been made.
They must be so frantic, so worried, I realized. When Aunt Sandra called them and told them I didn’t arrive in Orlando, they probably went nuts. They must have the police and the FBI out looking for me!
My heart pounding, I practically leaped across the enormous room. I grabbed the phone.
Mom and Dad will know how to get me away from here, I told myself. They’ll talk to this general. And I’ll be on the first plane back to New York.
I lifted the receiver to my ear and listened for the buzz of a dial tone.