Mummies in the Morning
Page 2
Another figure was moving slowly toward them.
It wasn’t a tomb robber.
No. It was a lady. A beautiful Egyptian lady.
She wore flowers in her black hair. Her long white dress had many tiny pleats. Her gold jewelry glittered.
“Here, Jack,” Annie whispered. “Give her this.” She handed him the gold scepter.
The lady stopped in front of them.
Jack held out the scepter. His hand was trembling.
He gasped. The scepter passed right through the lady’s hand.
She was made of air.
“A ghost,” Annie whispered.
But Jack could only stare in horror.
The ghost began to speak. She spoke in a hollow, echoing voice.
“I am Hutepi,” she said. “Queen of the Nile. Is it true that you have come to help me?”
“Yes,” said Annie.
Jack still couldn’t speak.
“For a thousand years,” said the ghost-queen, “I have waited for help.”
Jack’s heart was pounding so hard he thought he might faint.
“Someone must find my Book of the Dead,” she said. “I need it to go on to the Next Life.”
“Why do you need the Book of the Dead?” asked Annie. She didn’t sound scared at all.
“It will tell me the magic spells I need to get through the Underworld,” said the ghost-queen.
“The Underworld?” said Annie.
“Before I journey on to the Next Life, I must pass through the horrors of the Underworld.”
“What kinds of horrors?” Annie asked.
“Poisonous snakes,” said the ghost-queen. “Lakes of fire. Monsters. Demons.”
“Oh.” Annie stepped closer to Jack.
“My brother hid the Book of the Dead. So tomb robbers would not steal it,” said the ghost-queen. “Then he carved this secret message on the wall, telling me how to find it.”
She pointed to the wall.
Jack was still in shock. He couldn’t move.
“Where?” asked Annie. “Here?” She squinted at the wall. “What do these tiny pictures mean?”
The ghost-queen smiled sadly. “Alas, my brother forgot my strange problem. I cannot see clearly that which is close to my eyes. I have not been able to read his message for a thousand years.”
“Oh, that’s not a strange problem,” said Annie. “Jack can’t see anything either. That’s why he wears glasses.”
The ghost-queen stared in wonder at Jack.
“Jack, lend her your glasses,” said Annie.
Jack took his glasses off his nose. He held them out to the ghost-queen.
She backed away from him. “I fear I cannot wear your glasses, Jack,” she said. “I am made of air.”
“Oh. I forgot,” said Annie.
“But perhaps you will describe the hieroglyphs on these walls,” said the ghost-queen.
“Hi-row-who?” said Annie.
“Hieroglyphs!” said Jack, finally finding his voice. “It’s the ancient Egyptian way of writing. It’s like writing with pictures.”
The ghost-queen smiled at him. “Thank you, Jack,” she said.
Jack smiled back at her. He put his glasses on. Then he stepped toward the wall and took a good long look.
“Oh, man,” he whispered.
Jack and Annie squinted at the pyramid wall.
A series of tiny pictures were carved into the stone.
“There are four pictures here,” Jack told the ghost-queen.
“Describe them to me, Jack. One at a time, please,” she said.
Jack studied the first picture.
“Okay,” he said. “The first one is like this.” He made a zigzag in the air with his finger.
“Like stairs?” asked the ghost-queen.
“Yes, stairs!” said Jack. “Just like stairs.”
She nodded.
Easy enough.
Jack studied the second picture.
“The second one has a long box on the bottom,” he said. He drew it in the air.
The ghost-queen looked puzzled.
“With three things on top. Like this,” said Annie. She drew squiggly lines in the air.
The ghost-queen still seemed puzzled.
“Like a hat,” said Jack.
“Hat?” said the ghost-queen.
“No. More like a boat,” said Annie.
“Boat?” said the ghost-queen. She got excited. “Boat?”
Jack took another look at the wall.
“Yes. It could be a boat,” he said.
The ghost-queen looked very happy. She smiled.
“Yes. Of course,” she said.
Jack and Annie studied the next picture.
“The third one is like a thing that holds flowers,” said Annie.
“Or a thing that holds water,” said Jack.
“Like a jug?” asked the ghost-queen.
“Exactly,” said Jack.
“Yes. A jug,” said Annie.
Jack and Annie studied the last picture.
“And the last one looks like a pole that droops,” said Annie.
“Like a curved stick,” said Jack. “But one side is shorter than the other.”
The ghost-queen looked puzzled.
“Wait,” said Jack. “I’ll draw it in my notebook. Big! So you can see it.”
Jack put down the scepter and got out his pencil. He drew the hieroglyph.
“A folded cloth,” said the ghost-queen.
“Well, not really,” said Jack. He studied his drawing.
“But that is the hieroglyph for a folded cloth,” said the ghost-queen.
“Well, okay,” said Jack.
He looked at the fourth hieroglyph again. He still couldn’t see the folded cloth. Unless it was like a towel hanging over a bathroom rod.
“So that’s all of them,” said Annie. She pointed at each picture. “Stairs. Boat. Jug. Folded cloth.”
Jack wrote the words in his notebook.
“So what does the message mean?” he asked the ghost-queen.
“Come,” she said. She held out her hand.
“Come to my burial chambers.”
And she floated away.
Jack put the scepter and his notebook and pencil into his pack.
He and Annie followed the ghost-queen. Deeper into the pyramid. Until they came to some stairs.
“The STAIRS!” said Jack and Annie.
The ghost-queen floated up the stairs.
Jack and Annie followed.
The ghost-queen floated right through a wooden door.
Jack and Annie pushed on the door. It opened slowly.
They stepped into a cold, drafty room.
The ghost-queen was nowhere in sight.
Dim torchlight lit the huge room. It had a very high ceiling. On one side was a pile of tables, chairs, and musical instruments.
On the other side of the room was a small wooden boat.
“The BOAT!” said Jack.
“What’s it doing inside Queen Hutepi’s pyramid?” asked Annie.
“Maybe it’s supposed to carry her to the Next Life,” said Jack.
He and Annie went over to the boat. They looked inside it.
The boat was filled with many things. Gold plates. Painted cups. Jeweled goblets. Woven baskets. Jewelry with blue stones. Small wooden statues.
“Look!” said Jack.
He reached into the boat and lifted out a clay jug.
“The JUG!” said Annie.
Jack looked inside the jug.
“Something’s in here,” he said.
“What is it?” asked Annie.
Jack felt down inside the jug.
“It feels like a big napkin,” he said.
“The FOLDED CLOTH!” said Annie.
Jack reached into the jug and pulled out the folded cloth. It was wrapped around an ancient-looking scroll.
Jack slowly unrolled the scroll.
It was covered with wonderful hieroglyph
s.
“The Book of the Dead!” whispered Annie. “We found it. We found her book.”
“Oh, man.” Jack traced his finger over the scroll. It felt like very old paper.
“Queen Hutepi!” called Annie. “We have it! We found your Book of the Dead!”
Silence.
“Queen Hutepi!”
Then another door on the other side of the chamber creaked open.
“In there,” said Annie. “Maybe she’s in there.”
Jack’s heart was pounding. Cold air was coming through the open doorway.
“Come on,” said Annie.
“Wait—”
“No,” said Annie. “She’s waited a thousand years for her book. Don’t make her wait anymore.”
Jack put the ancient scroll into his backpack. Then he and Annie slowly started to cross the drafty room.
They came to the open door. Annie went through first.
“Hurry, Jack!” she said.
Jack stepped into the other room.
It was nearly bare. Except for a long gold box. The box was open. The cover was on the floor.
“Queen Hutepi?” called Annie.
Silence.
“We found it,” said Annie. “Your Book of the Dead.”
There was still no sign of the ghost-queen.
The gold box glowed.
Jack could barely breathe. “Let’s leave the scroll on the floor. And go,” he said.
“No. I think we should leave it in there,” said Annie. She pointed to the gold box.
“No,” said Jack.
“Don’t be afraid,” said Annie. “Come on.”
Annie took Jack by the arm. They walked together. Across the room. To the glowing gold box.
They stopped in front of the box. And they peered inside.
A real mummy.
Bandages were still wrapped around the bald skull. But most of the bandages had come off the face.
It was Hutepi. Queen of the Nile.
Her broken teeth were showing. Her little wrinkled ears. Her squashed nose. Her withered flesh. Her hollow eye sockets.
Plus the rotting bandages on her body were coming off. You could see bones.
“Oh, gross!” cried Annie. “Let’s go!”
“No,” said Jack. “It’s interesting.”
“Forget it!” said Annie. She started out of the room.
“Wait, Annie.”
“Come on, Jack. Hurry!” cried Annie. She was standing by the door.
Jack pulled out the Egypt book and flipped to a picture of a mummy. He read aloud:
Ancient Egyptians tried to protect the body so it would last forever. First it was dried out with salt.
“Ugh, stop!” said Annie.
“Listen,” said Jack. He kept reading:
Next it was covered with oil. Then it was wrapped tightly in bandages. The brain was removed by—
“Yuck! Stop!” cried Annie. “Good-bye!” She dashed out of the room.
“Annie!” called Jack. “We have to give her the Book of the Dead!”
But Annie was gone.
Jack reached into his pack. He pulled out the scroll and the scepter. He put them next to the mummy’s skull.
Was it just his imagination? Or did a deep sigh seem to shudder throughout the room? Did the mummy’s face grow calmer?
Jack held his breath as he backed away. Out of the mummy room. Out of the boat room. Down the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, he heaved his own sigh. A sigh of relief.
He looked down the hallway. It was empty.
“Hey! Where are you?” he said.
No answer.
Where in the world was Annie?
Jack started down the hallway.
“Annie!” he called.
Had she run out of the pyramid? Was she already outside?
“Annie!”
“Help, Jack!” came a cry. The voice sounded far away.
It was Annie! Where was she?
“Help, Jack!”
“Annie!”
Jack started to run. Along the shadowy hallway.
“Help, Jack!” Her cry seemed fainter.
Jack stopped.
He was running away from her voice.
“Annie!” he called. He went back toward the burial chambers.
“Jack!”
There! Her voice was louder.
“Jack!”
Even louder!
Jack climbed the stairs. He went back into the boat room.
He looked around the room. At the furniture. The musical instruments. The boat.
Then he saw it. Another door! Right next to the door he had just come through.
The other door was open.
Jack dashed through it. He found himself at the top of some stairs.
They were just like the stairs in the other hallway.
He went down into the hallway. It was lit by torches on the wall.
It was just like the other hallway.
“Annie!” he called.
“Jack!”
“Annie!”
“Jack!”
She was running through the hallway toward him.
She crashed into him.
“I was lost!” she cried.
“I think this is one of those false passages. Built to fool the tomb robbers,” said Jack.
“A false passage?” said Annie, panting.
“Yeah, it looks just like the right hallway,” said Jack. “We have to go back into the boat room. And out the right door.”
Just then they heard a creaking noise.
Jack and Annie turned around. They looked up the stairs.
Then they watched in horror as the door slowly creaked shut.
A deep sound rumbled in the distance. And all the torches went out.
It was pitch dark.
“What happened?” asked Annie.
“I don’t know. Something weird,” said Jack. “We have to get out of here fast. Push against the door.”
“Good idea,” said Annie in a small voice.
They felt their way through the darkness. To the top of the stairs.
“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay,” said Jack. He was trying to stay calm.
“Of course,” said Annie.
They leaned against the wooden door and pushed.
It wouldn’t budge.
They pushed harder.
No use.
Jack took a deep breath. It was getting harder to breathe. And harder to stay calm.
“What can we do?” asked Annie.
“Just … just rest a moment,” said Jack, panting.
His heart was pounding as he tried to see through the darkness.
“Maybe we should start down the hall,” he said. “Maybe we’ll eventually come to … to an exit.”
He wasn’t sure about that. But they had no choice.
“Come on,” he said. “Feel the wall.”
Jack felt the stone wall as he climbed slowly down the stairs. Annie followed.
Jack started down the dark hallway. It was impossible to see anything.
But he kept going. Taking one step at a time. Moving his hands along the wall.
He went around a corner. He went around another corner. He came to some stairs. He went up.
There was a door. He pushed against it. Annie pushed, too. This door wouldn’t budge either.
Was this the same door they had started at?
It was no use. They were trapped.
Annie took his hand in the dark. She squeezed it.
They stood together at the top of the stairs. Listening to the silence.
“Meow.”
“Oh, man,” Jack whispered.
“He’s back!” said Annie.
“Meow.”
“Follow him!” cried Jack. “He’s going away from us.”
They started down the dark hallway. Following the cat’s meow.
Hands against the wall, Jack and Annie stumbled through th
e darkness.
“Meow.”
They followed the sound. All the way through the winding hallway. Down, down, down.
Around one corner, then another. And another …
Finally they saw a light at the end of the tunnel. They rushed forward—out into the bright sunlight.
“Yay!” Annie shouted.
But Jack was thinking.
“Annie,” he said. “How did we get out of the false passage?”
“The cat,” said Annie.
“But how could the cat do it?” asked Jack.
“Magic,” said Annie.
Jack frowned. “But—”
“Look!” said Annie. She pointed.
The cat was bounding away. Over the sand.
“Thank you!” called Annie.
“Thanks!” Jack shouted at the cat.
His black tail waved.
Then he disappeared in the shimmering waves of heat.
Jack looked toward the palm trees. At the top of one sat the tree house. Like a bird’s nest.
“Time to go home,” Jack said.
He and Annie set off for the palm trees. It was a long hot walk back.
At last Annie grabbed onto the rope ladder. Then Jack.
Once they were inside the tree house, Jack reached for the book about Pennsylvania.
Just then he heard a rumbling sound. The same sound they had heard in the pyramid.
“Look!” Annie said, pointing out the window.
Jack looked.
A boat was beside the pyramid. It was gliding over the sand. Like a boat sailing over the sea.
Then it faded away. Into the distance.
Was it just a mirage?
Or was the ghost-queen finally on her way to the Next Life?
“Home, Jack,” whispered Annie.
Jack opened the Pennsylvania book.
He pointed to the picture of Frog Creek.
“I wish we could go home,” he said.
The wind began to blow.
The leaves began to shake.
The wind blew harder. It whistled louder.
The tree house started to spin.
It spun faster and faster.
Then everything was still.
Absolutely silent.
Late-morning sunlight shone through the tree house window. Shadows danced on the walls and ceiling.
Jack took a deep breath. He was lying on the floor of the tree house.