April was being very busy trying to get her stole to stay on because the clasp was a little bit broken. All at once she pulled it off, wadded it all up and tucked it under her arm. She looked right straight at Melanie and said, “You know what? I never did call them that before, but imagining games are just about all I ever play because most of the time I never have anybody to play with.”
She started off up the hall. Then she turned around and walked backward, waving her fur stole around her head like a lasso. “You’ve got lots of good ideas, too,” she yelled.
The Egypt Girls
ALL THROUGH THE MONTH OF AUGUST, MELANIE AND April were together almost every day. They played the paper-families game and other games, both in the Rosses’ apartment and in Caroline’s. They took Marshall for walks and to the park while Mrs. Ross was gone to her class, and almost every day they went to the library. It was in the library in August that the seeds were planted that grew into the Egypt Game in September in the Professor’s deserted yard.
It all started when April found a new book about Egypt, an especially interesting one about the life of a young pharaoh. She passed it on to Melanie, and with it a lot of her interest in all sorts of ancient stuff. Melanie was soon as fascinated by the valley of the Nile as April had been. Before long, with the help of a sympathetic librarian, they had found and read just about everything the library had to offer on Egypt—both fact and fiction.
They read about Egypt in the library during the day, and at home in the evening, and in bed late at night when they were supposed to be asleep. Then in the mornings while they helped each other with their chores they discussed the things they had found out. In a very short time they had accumulated all sorts of fascinating facts about tombs and temples, pharaohs and pyramids, mummies and monoliths, and dozens of other exotic topics. They decided that the Egyptians couldn’t have been more interesting if they had done it on purpose. Everything, from their love of beauty and mystery, to their fascinating habit of getting married when they were only eleven years old, made good stuff to talk about. By the end of the month, April and Melanie were beginning work on their own alphabet of hieroglyphics for writing secret messages, and at the library they were beginning to be called the Egypt Girls.
But in between all the good times, both April and Melanie were spending some bad moments worrying about the beginning of school. April was worried because she knew from experience—lots of it—that it isn’t easy to face a new class in a new school. She didn’t admit it, not even to Melanie, but she was having nightmares about the first day of school. There were classroom nightmares, and schoolyard nightmares and principal’s office nightmares; but there was another kind, too, that had to do with an empty mailbox. In the whole month of August she had had only one very short postcard from Dorothea.
Melanie was worried, too, but in a different way. School had always been easy for Melanie; and even though she wasn’t the kind who got elected class president, she’d always had plenty of friends. But now there was April to think about.
April was the most exciting friend Melanie had ever had. No one else knew about so many fascinating things, or could think up such marvelous things to do. With April, a walk to the library could become an exploration of a forbidden land, or a shiny pebble on the sidewalk could be a magic token from an invisible power. When April got that imagining gleam in her eye there was no telling what was going to happen next. Just about any interesting subject you could mention, April was sure to know a lot of weird and wonderful facts about it. And if she didn’t, you could always count on her to make up a few, just to keep things going.
There was only one thing that April didn’t seem to know much about—that was getting along with people. Most people, anyhow. With Melanie, April was herself, new and different from anyone, wild and daring and terribly brave. But with other people she was often quite different. With other kids she usually put on her Hollywood act, terribly grown-up and bored with everything. And with most grown-ups April’s eyes got narrow and you couldn’t believe a word she said.
Melanie had gone to Wilson School all her life, and she knew what it was like. There were all different kinds of kids at Wilson; kids who looked and talked and acted all sorts of ways. Wilson was used to that. But there were some things that Wilson kids just wouldn’t stand for, and Melanie was afraid that April’s Hollywood act was one of them.
And Melanie wasn’t entirely just guessing about how her schoolmates would react to April. A couple of times when April and Melanie had been at the library or in the park they’d run into some of the Wilson kids Melanie knew; and you could see right away that April wasn’t making the right kind of impression. And it was going to be worse at school, where every kid would feel duty bound to do his or her part in trimming the new kid down to size. Melanie had a feeling that April wasn’t going to trim easily.
The thing that worried Melanie the most was the eyelashes. April was still wearing them a lot of the time. She’d gotten so she didn’t wear them to the library because she still had trouble reading through them, but even if she hadn’t had them on all day she always put them on when it was time for her grandmother to come home. Once Melanie asked her why.
“She doesn’t like for me to wear them,” April said.
Melanie thought about that for a minute. Then she said, “You don’t like your grandmother very much, do you?”
April just shrugged but her eyes got narrow.
“I don’t see why,” Melanie said. “She seems pretty nice to me.”
“She doesn’t like my mother,” April said. “She doesn’t even think that Dorothea’s going to send for me to come home pretty soon.”
“Did she say so?”
“No, but she thinks it. I can tell.”
Then, just at the beginning of September, with school only a few days away, came that exciting day when the Egypt Game began. April and Melanie and Marshall were on their way home through the alley when, by the sheerest luck, Melanie noticed the loose plank. It had moved stiffly, that first time, with a reluctant rusty yelp and they peeked through into the hidden and deserted yard. It was fascinating—so weed-grown and forgotten and secret—but then came the most unbelievably wonderful part of all.
There she was, waiting for them in the shed, Nefertiti, the beautiful queen of ancient Egypt, like a magical omen, or, as April put it, “a beautiful messenger from out of the ancient past.” There had to be something terribly out-of-the-ordinary about it. Why, it had only been a few days before that they had read all about her and admired a picture of her lovely sculptured head. And there it was, almost like magic. Very much like magic, in fact—and that’s the way the Egypt Game was, from the very beginning.
But even the discovery of Egypt didn’t stop the beginning of school from arriving with all its problems. So, when April lost one of her eyelashes that first day in Egypt, Melanie couldn’t help feeling a little relieved, although she wouldn’t have said so. But then, there it was on Security—and the problem was just as complicated as ever. It was the next morning when Melanie finally got up nerve enough to talk to April about it.
April was helping Melanie dry the dishes so they’d be ready to leave for Egypt sooner. “Are you going to wear your eyelashes to school?” Melanie asked with careful casualness.
But April turned quickly, and with her face all shut up the way it was with other people. “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I just don’t think anybody else at Wilson wears them.”
April’s chin went up and her lips thinned. “Am I supposed to care what the kids at a little old place like Wilson School wear?”
Melanie could see that she wasn’t going to get anywhere so she let the subject drop. But before the dishes were finished she had started making a drastic plan. April just couldn’t wear those eyelashes to school on the first day. She was going to be hard enough to integrate even without them.
As soon as Melanie had finished her chores they were free to head
for Egypt. Since it was Saturday, Melanie’s parents were both at home, but Mr. Ross always had to study and he was only too glad for the girls to get Marshall out from underfoot. Just outside the apartment door April stopped with her finger to her lips.
“Shhh,” she warned, “we must proceed with caution. We may be being watched.”
“Who’s watching?” Marshall asked, looking around.
“The enemies of Egypt. Who were those worst enemies, Melanie?”
“The Syrians,” Melanie whispered.
“Yeah, they’re the ones. The Syrians. Their spies are everywhere.”
With elaborate caution they made their way out of the back door of the Casa Rosada and down the alley. They went the wrong way first and took evasive action through a garage and around a stack of garbage pails. Then they crawled through a piece of cement pipe and started to make a run for it; but they had to go back for Marshall, who was still in the pipe, all tangled up in Security’s legs. When they finally arrived at the fence they were out of breath.
“All clear?” Melanie asked, looking both ways.
“Yes, for the time being,” April breathed. “But they almost had us. That was a close call back there in the tunnel.”
“Close,” Melanie agreed, “but we fooled them.” With that they shoved Marshall through the hole in the fence and crawled in after him.
The Evil God and the Secret Spy
WHEN APRIL AND MARSHALL AND MELANIE SQUEEZED back through the fence for the second time they found everything just as they had left it. They started out by pulling the rest of the dead weeds and stacking them in one corner of the yard. While Marshall stood guard halfway down the alley to see if anyone was coming, they shoved the whole stack out through the hole in the fence. Then they scouted around and found a trash bin that was nice and roomy and not too full to hold an extra donation of dead weeds. When, at last, the loose stones and broken bits of things had been cleared away, Egypt looked clean and bare and ready for whatever might be going to happen.
Next they turned their attention to the lean-to shed, or the Temple, as they were already beginning to call it. It was actually only a wooden platform about a foot off the ground, across one end of the yard. A roof of corrugated tin was supported in the front by a few wooden posts, and on the other three sides walls were formed by the tall boards of the fence. Already the birdbath altar of Nefertiti, the fancy pillars from the porch of some Victorian mansion and the crumbling statue of Diana by the entrance were beginning to create a temple-like atmosphere. But there was much more that could be done.
April and Melanie were sitting on the edge of the Temple’s floor resting for a moment, and planning, when April pointed out the only real door to the storage yard. It was on the opposite site from the loose plank and was apparently locked with a latch and padlock from the outside. “I wonder where it goes to,” she said.
Melanie thought a moment. “I guess it goes to the rest of the Professor’s backyard,” she said. “You know, that part with a driveway so trucks and things can back up to his store for deliveries. You can see into that part from the alley.” It was right then when she mentioned the Professor that Melanie, for the first time, had an uncomfortable feeling. “What do you suppose the Professor would do if he caught us in here?” she wondered out loud.
April shrugged. Melanie had told her how most of the children in the neighborhood felt about the Professor. While she had to admit he’d been a little bit creepy, she didn’t see what all the fuss was about. But Melanie seemed to feel that April’s short talk with the old man had made her an authority on the subject, so she was more or less obliged to come up with an opinion. “I don’t think he’d do a thing,” she said. “I just don’t think he’d even care, as long as we don’t bother him or hurt anything. Besides, how’s he going to know? You can tell by the weeds and everything that no one’s been in here for ages. I’ll bet the padlock on that door’s rusted so tight he couldn’t get in if he wanted to. And that window isn’t the kind that opens. He’d have to break the glass if he wanted to get through.”
“He might be watching us through it, though.”
Somehow that thought was almost more scary than the possibility of the Professor’s actually entering the yard. With one accord the girls moved warily towards the window. Closer and closer until their noses were only inches from the dirty panes. Then Melanie breathed a sigh of relief. “There’s something like a heavy curtain hanging clear across it. He couldn’t see through that.”
“Besides, I don’t think he could see through the dirt even if there wasn’t a curtain. I’ll bet this window’s in some little back room he doesn’t even use any more. Otherwise he wouldn’t leave it so dirty.”
Feeling pleasantly safe and secure, the girls sat back down and began to make plans. Marshall was busy digging a little hole in the middle of the yard with a sharp stick. He had knotted two of Security’s legs together around his neck so that his hands would be free for digging. Security’s pear-shaped plush body and six of his black legs were hanging down Marshall’s back.
“I know,” April said suddenly, “Marshall can be the young pharaoh, heir to the throne of Egypt. Only there’s a civil war going on, and the other side is trying to kill him.”
“Okay. And we can be high priestesses of Isis who are assigned to protect him.”
“Ummm,” April said. “Or else we could be evil high priestesses who are going to offer him as a human sacrifice on the crocodile altar to—what was that evil god’s name?”
“Set?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” April jumped to her feet. Throwing up her arms, she chanted, “Almighty Set has promised his servants, the crocodile gods of the Nile, the bloody heart of the young Pharaoh, Marsh—uh, Marshamosis!” She dropped to her knees. “O mighty Set, god of evil, we hear and obey.”
Marshall had stopped digging, and now he stood up and started towards the opening in the fence. The girls ran after him. He didn’t struggle when they caught him, but Melanie was familiar with the expression on his face. His funny little baby-round chin was sticking out defiantly and his black eyes glared. “Leave my bloody heart alone,” he said.
The girls giggled. “You know, he’s pretty sharp for a four-year-old,” April said.
Melanie got down on her knees and tried to take Marshall’s hands, but he wouldn’t turn loose of Security. “Marshall, honey,” she said, “it’s just a game. Just pretend. We wouldn’t really hurt you.”
“What’s a pharaoh?” Marshall asked suspiciously.
“A king,” Melanie said, “king of all the Egyptians.” Marshall’s frown lifted a little and his chin began to go back into its normal position.
“A terribly important kind of king,” April said. “Everybody had to bow down to him and do exactly what he said.”
Marshall nodded soberly. “I’ll play,” he said.
So that was the way Set started—Set the god of evil and black magic. At first he was just supposed to be a character in that particular game, and that first day he was represented by a picture of a man with an animal’s head that Melanie drew on a piece of cardboard and tacked to the wall. But once he got started, he seemed to grow and develop almost on his own, and all out of control; until he was more than evil, and at times a lot more than Egyptian. For instance, at different times, his wicked tricks included everything from atomic ray guns to sulfur and brimstone.
But, actually, that was the way with all of the Egypt Game. Nobody ever planned it ahead, at least, not very far. Ideas began and grew and afterwards it was hard to remember just how. That was one of the mysterious and fascinating things about it.
On that particular day, the game about Marshamosis, the boy pharaoh, and Set, the god of evil, didn’t get very far. They’d no more than gotten started when April and Melanie decided they just had to have some more equipment before they could play it well. So they postponed the game and went instead to scout around in the alley for boards and boxes to use in making things like thrones
and altars. They found just what they needed behind the doughnut shop and the furniture store in the next block, and brought them back to Egypt. And it was on the same trip that they had the good luck to rescue an old metal mixing bowl from a garbage pail. April said it would be just the thing for a firepit for building sacred fires.
When they had everything as far as the hole in the fence, they ran into a problem. The bowl and boards went through all right, but the boxes were just too big. The only solution was to throw them over the top of the fence. It wasn’t easy, and in landing they made quite a bit of noise.
It wasn’t long afterwards that the curtain on the small window at the back of the Professor’s store was pushed very carefully to one side. But April and Melanie were so busy building and planning that they didn’t notice at all. Only someone with very sharp eyes would have been able to see the figure that stood silently behind the very dirty window in the darkened room.
Eyelashes and Ceremony
THE NEXT DAY WAS THE LAST BEFORE SCHOOL WAS TO start. It was also Melanie’s last chance to put into effect her plan to get rid of the eyelashes. So after dinner she went up to Mrs. Hall’s apartment to see April. She took the library book that she was reading and one that she knew April wanted to read.
In April’s room they talked about the Egypt Game and about school starting in the morning—what they were going to wear and things like that. Then Melanie suggested they read for a while, so they got comfortable on their stomachs across April’s bed and started in on the books—and sure enough, April got up and took off her eyelashes so she could see better.
But, for once, both the girls had a hard time keeping their minds on their reading. April was thinking about the next day, telling herself that it didn’t matter whether the people at Wilson School were friendly or not, because Dorothea would write soon saying she wanted April to come home. Dorothea—it seemed ages since April had seen her. April shut her eyes and tried to picture her, but tonight the picture wouldn’t come clear. It was only a blur—a blur of laughter, talk, movement and color. But a bright and beautiful blur, no matter how distant, was better than a reality that was dull and gray.
Egypt Game (9781439132029) Page 3