Egypt

by Patti Wheeler

  Then Tahnoon gave the signal. Raising his arm he shouted something that could have only meant “charge!” We lurched forward. I was riding with one of Tahnoon’s cousins, a man named Zayed, and took hold of the saddle rope to keep from falling off as the camel came down the dune.

  Several shots were fired, some from the Bedouins, others from a distance. More warning shots, I hoped, but couldn’t be sure. Everyone in camp ran around frantically in different directions. A group of tomb robbers made a break for it, trying to charge up the dune before the camp was completely closed off, but their escape was blocked by several Bedouins with rifles drawn. The men surrendered immediately, throwing their weapons into the sand.

  But there was more gunfire in camp. Zayed even fired a shot into the air and made a sudden sharp turn, throwing me off the back of the camel. I landed hard on the ground, knocking the wind out of myself. The thunderous sound of hooves pounding into the sand rumbled around me on all sides. Sand was kicked into my eyes. I couldn’t see.

  More shots were fired. Bullets whizzed through the air. I rolled over, covered my head, thinking for sure I was about to be trampled. Suddenly, someone was on top of me. They grabbed me under the arms and began dragging me away. I pushed with my legs to help this person who was attempting to pull me to safety. We made our way through the chaos and into a tent. The person dragging me fell onto the ground next to me, gasping for breath. It was James.

  “We all thought you were dead, mate!” he said. “Buried in the tomb forever!”

  “We almost were,” I said, spitting sand from my mouth. “I’m glad to see you’re okay, too.”

  “After the earthquake it’s been so chaotic, the tomb robbers forgot all about me.”

  We stood and caught our breath.

  “I’m curious, mate. How in the world did you coordinate this Bedouin raid?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” I said, “We have to get back out there.”

  James and I moved to the door of the tent.

  Things outside had settled. It seemed the battle was over. Then, near the entrance of the tomb, I spotted two men. Their guns were drawn on each other. A second later, I realized it was Tahnoon and the commander. He appeared to be the only tomb robber that had not surrendered.

  Dr. Aziz and Khalid stood off to the side. Gannon and Serene were behind them. I was relieved to see that they were all okay, but very afraid for Tahnoon. Judging by what I knew of the commander, he wasn’t going to give up without a fight. They both yelled at one another, their fingers on the triggers of their rifles. Two other Bedouins had their guns drawn on the commander. He was not going to get away, that was for sure. I just hoped he realized that before someone got shot.

  Dr. Aziz wasn’t about to sit back and see how this would play out. He took the matter into his own hands, literally. In one fluid motion, he lifted his arm and threw a rock at the commander. Like a fastball from a major league pitcher, his aim was dead on, hitting the commander hard on the side of his head. The commander grunted and dropped to his knees. He was immediately tackled and dragged away by several men, still groggy after that thump to the skull.

  “What a shot!” Khalid said. “I didn’t know you had it in you!”

  “Nice throw, Doc,” Gannon said. “If archeology hadn’t been your passion, I bet you could have played for the Yankees.”

  “I got lucky,” he said, chuckling. “Never touched a baseball in my life. Growing up, soccer was my sport.”

  The tomb robbers had all been detained and were being escorted to the police station in Alexandria. My guess is that their days of tomb robbing are over.

  Dr. Aziz gathered us in his tent. It was myself, Gannon, Serene, James and Tahnoon. One by one he approached us, kissing us on the cheek and giving us a firm hug. There were tears in his eyes when he spoke.

  “First, I want to say thank you,” he said. “What you’ve done on this expedition was above and beyond the call of duty. Your actions saved our lives.”

  “It was Tahnoon and his people,” Gannon said, gesturing to him. “They deserve all the credit.”

  Serene translated what Gannon had said.

  Tahnoon bowed.

  Dr. Aziz spoke to Tahnoon in Arabic.

  Serene translated it back to English for us, “Dr. Aziz said that the Bedouins are a proud and brave people and that we will forever be indebted.”

  Again, Tahnoon bowed.

  “Now,” Dr. Aziz said, turning to us with wonder in his eyes, “how on earth did you get out of there? The entrance was completely closed off by the earthquake. Is there another way into the tomb? Since you are standing here, I assume there must be!”

  “You know,” Gannon said, “we’re not really sure. After the earthquake, we climbed out of a small hole and found ourselves somewhere in the middle of the desert.”

  “The distance we traveled underground didn’t equate to the long distance we had to travel to get back to camp,” I said. “Honestly, I don’t understand it.”

  “That is very interesting,” Dr. Aziz said. “Another Egyptian mystery, I suppose.”

  “What about the tomb itself?” Khalid said.

  “Yes, we must know.” Dr. Aziz continued. “What did you find? What is down there? The chambers can no longer be seen on the radar. It’s as if everything underground has disappeared.”

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” I said, “but I think the entire complex was buried in rubble.”

  “Please, describe the complex to me! Describe the tomb! Was Cleopatra inside? Was Mark Antony at her side? I must know!”

  Dr. Aziz was shaking with excitement as we all described what we had seen.

  “Did you document any of this?” he asked.

  Serene and I showed him the notes we’d made in our journals.

  “That’s all we have,” I said. “Gannon’s camera was destroyed during the earthquake.”

  He took the journals in his hand and sat quietly for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

  “Your journals have a value beyond measure,” Dr. Aziz finally said. “With your permission, I will keep copies of your field notes at the Youth Exploration Society offices in Cairo.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “It would be an honor,” Serene replied.

  “It could be the only record we’ll ever have of Cleopatra’s tomb,” Dr. Aziz continued.

  “What do you mean?” Gannon asked. “We know she’s here.”

  “Yes, but the damage from the earthquake was so severe, it may be that we’re never able to find the tomb again.”

  “I’m really sorry we couldn’t help you discover your 100th tomb,” Gannon said. “But I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Maybe some things aren’t meant to be found. They’re meant to remain a secret. Forever.”

  Dr. Aziz nodded.

  “You might be right, Gannon,” he said. “You might be right.”

  GANNON

  NILE HOTEL

  7TH FLOOR, ROOM #721

  When we got back to our hotel in Cairo the international press was waiting. Somehow word had gotten out and people were desperate to find out if all the rumors were true. It was a total madhouse, with flashbulbs going off in our faces and people shouting all kinds of questions.

  “Tell us what you saw inside the tomb!”

  “Did you really find Cleopatra?”

  “Was Mark Antony buried with her?”

  “What is the location of the tomb?”

  “Do you have photographs?”

  “How much damage was done by the earthquake?”

  Dr. Aziz told us he would put out an official statement in the coming days explaining everything that had happened, so until then we’re keeping our mouths shut.

  My parents muscled their way into the frenzy and helped pull us through the masses into the hotel lobby. We ran past the front desk and escaped into the elevator, while a few security guards did their best to hold back the press. Once the doors of the elevator closed, it was really quiet al
l of a sudden. We all just looked at each other in silence while soothing elevator music played from the speakers.

  Finally, my mom spoke.

  “You mind explaining what’s going on?” she asked.

  “Seems you boys are quite the media sensation,” my dad added. “Can’t wait to hear what you got yourselves into this time.”

  “I don’t have the energy to explain it all right now,” I said. “I’m as tired as a camel who just crossed the Sahara. Besides, you wouldn’t believe us anyway. Trust me on that one.”

  “Of course we would,” my mom said. “Come on. Tell us everything that happened.”

  “You’re just going to have to read our journals.”

  I took my journal from my pack and handed it to my mom. When she flipped it open, sand poured onto the floor. The pages were dirty and brittle from exposure to the dry, desert air. Sloppy handwriting filled each page from top to bottom.

  “This thing is filthy,” she said. “As far as your grade is concerned, I wouldn’t keep my hopes up. For starters, the penmanship is awful.”

  “Oh, come on, Mom. If you shoveled dirt from sunrise to sunset, your penmanship wouldn’t look so hot either. We could barely lift our pens at the end of the day.”

  “I’ll tell you something else,” Wyatt added. “I expect a top grade and nothing less. If you only knew what we went through, you’d be amazed we wrote a single page.”

  “Okay, relax,” Mom said, “When I grade your work, I’ll take that all into consideration.”

  The elevator door opened, and we walked to our room.

  “I’m really intrigued,” my dad said, taking the journal from my mom. “I’m going to start reading right away.”

  My dad opened the door and we entered the room.

  “Whatever you do,” I said, “don’t wake me. I don’t know about Wyatt, but I could sleep for a week straight.”

  “Without a doubt,” Wyatt agreed.

  “Enjoy the adventure,” I said to my parents, and collapsed onto the bed.

  I was out before my head hit the pillow.

  A view of Cairo and the Nile

  WYATT

  MARCH 21, 2:49 PM

  TEA HOUSE, KHAN AL-KHALILI

  21° CELSIUS, 70° FAHRENHEIT

  We had one last thing to do before we left Egypt.

  This morning the hotel manager arranged for a car to pick us up a block away. He led us to an exit in the back corner of the hotel, as the press was still camped out in the lobby. From there, we sprinted across the street and jumped into the car.

  “Khan al-Khalili bazaar, please,” Gannon said.

  We found the shopkeeper seated at a table in the corner of his store, sipping a cup of coffee. Oddly enough, he did not look surprised to see us.

  “The famous young archeologists,” he said. “I’ve heard the news. So, tell me. Is it true?”

  Gannon smiled and nodded.

  “We came to tell you that your grandfather’s artifact played a major role in our discovery,” Gannon said. “We were about to call off the excavation, when I found another tile just like it. That gave us the confidence to continue the dig. Before we left Egypt, we wanted to return it to you.”

  Gannon held out the tile.

  The shopkeeper took it in his hands.

  “I knew it was true,” he said. “My grandfather was close.”

  “Very close,” I said.

  Knowing this with certainty seemed to give the shopkeeper peace of mind. His grandfather was, in fact, a great archeologist, and very nearly made one of the greatest discoveries of all time.

  “And I owe you an apology,” I said.

  “What for?” the shopkeeper asked.

  “For doubting you,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I thought you were trying to scam us.”

  The shopkeeper laughed.

  “I understand,” the man said. “There are a few shopkeepers in this market who would do just that.”

  “It’s like they say back home,” Gannon said, “a few bad apples can spoil the bunch.”

  The shopkeeper looked at the piece again. A smile came over his face. He then gripped it tightly in his hand, turned to us and made a slight bow.

  “May your journey lead you to a better understanding of those things which are truly important in life,” he said.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” Gannon said, “what would those things be?”

  His smile grew wider.

  “That’s for you to discover.”

  GANNON

  MARCH 21

  CAIRO

  Touring the Great Pyramids of Giza

  We’re flying back to Colorado tonight and I’ve just finished packing, which basically involved stuffing a bunch of dirty clothes into my backpack. There’s still about an hour before we leave, so I took a seat on our balcony and have been looking out over the city with the Great Pyramids in the distance. Thinking of all the amazing stuff we learned, one thing in particular keeps coming to mind. Even though our mission wasn’t a total success and we weren’t able to unveil Cleopatra and Mark Antony’s tomb to the world and get our names printed in the history books and all that cool stuff, we were still able to prove what Dr. Aziz kept telling us throughout the fellowship: When you’re pursing your goals, it pays to be persistent. Don’t give up when the going gets tough, and it is definitely going to get tough. That’s a guarantee. And when it does, you have to be strong, believe in yourself, and keep going. Really, that’s the thing I hope to take away from this whole experience.

  Okay, now. In closing, I think a special thanks is in order. To all you ancient Egyptians dwelling in the afterlife who, in some mystical way, played a part in deciding that it wasn’t yet my time to join you, much obliged.

  Ma’a as-salaamah, Egypt.

  AUTHORS’ NOTE

  At the time of writing this authors’ note, the nation of Egypt is in a state of unrest. The country’s current situation is much too complex to analyze from afar. However, what is clear to everyone who follows the news is that the good people of Egypt are suffering. Amidst political turmoil and violence, many Egyptians struggle to provide for their families; their jobs, their safety, and their general welfare are in jeopardy.

  Egypt was home to one of history’s greatest civilizations, and much of the country’s spectacular antiquities remain unspoiled. To tour Egypt today is to marvel at the potential of human achievement. For these reasons, Egypt is a very popular travel destination. Many of us have wondered what it would be like to see the relics of ancient Egypt with our own eyes—to descend into the tomb of Tutankhamen, to walk among the ornate pillars of Karnak’s Great Hypostyle Hall, to reach out and touch one of the massive stone blocks at the base of the Great Pyramid.

  Tourism is a critical component of the Egyptian economy. In recent years, however, vacationers have been foregoing trips to Egypt, citing fear for their safety as the primary reason. Such concerns are valid given the current instability. In time, though, a visit to Egypt will once again prove enticing, for at its roots Egypt is a magnificent place.

  During our trip, we experienced Egyptian kindness and hospitality firsthand. People would frequently stop us and ask, “Where are you from?” When we told them that we were from the United States, the response was always friendly. “How are you enjoying Egypt?” was the question most people asked next. In Luxor, a family even invited us into their home for dinner. These gracious hosts opened their door to strangers—foreigners no less.

  The Egyptian children, like all young people, are playful and innocent. Interacting with the youth is a clear reminder of why we can be hopeful for the future. Inherently children are open-minded, pure in thought, and compassionate toward others. It is our responsibility to strengthen these virtues in our children, instilling in them a lifelong tolerance and understanding of other people and cultures. To quote John F. Kennedy, “For, in the final analysis, our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this small planet. We all breathe the same air. We all che
rish our children’s future. And we are all mortal.”

  To our friends in Egypt, we send our best wishes. May your future be blessed with opportunity, peace, and happiness.

  MEET THE “REAL-LIFE” GANNON AND WYATT

  Have you ever imagined traveling the world over? Fifteen-year-old twin brothers Gannon and Wyatt have done just that. With a flight attendant for a mom and an international businessman for a dad, the spirit of adventure has been nurtured in them since they were very young. When they got older, the globe-trotting brothers had an idea—why not share with other kids all of the amazing things they’ve learned during their travels? The result is the book series, Travels with Gannon and Wyatt, a video web series, blog, photographs from all over the world, and much more. Furthering their mission, the brothers also cofounded the Youth Exploration Society (Y.E.S.), an organization of young people who are passionate about making the world a better place. Each Travels with Gannon & Wyatt book is loosely based on real-life travels. Gannon and Wyatt have actually been to Botswana and tracked rhinos on foot. They have traveled to the Great Bear Rainforest in search of the mythical spirit bear, and explored the ancient tombs of Egypt. During these “research missions,” the authors, along with Gannon and Wyatt, often sit around the campfire collaborating on an adventure tale that sets two young explorers on a quest for the kind of knowledge you can’t get from a textbook. We hope you enjoy the novels that were inspired by these fireside chats. As Gannon and Wyatt like to say, “The world is our classroom, and we’re bringing you along.”

  HAPPY TRAVELS!

  Want to become a member of the

  Youth Exploration Society

  just like Gannon and Wyatt?

  Check out our website. That’s where you’ll learn how to become a member of the Youth Exploration Society, an organization of young people, like yourself, who love to travel and are interested in world geography, cultures, and wildlife.