displaying the “correct” shoes he needed to purchase from the school store. His dad was no help at all, shelling out a giant wad of money for his new wardrobe without even blinking an eye.
After the uniform fitting, they headed to the museum next, his father excitedly rambled on and on about his new school. “It's a really good school Marty, the top ranking high school in the state, and Principal Peachtree seemed real nice.”
“He was all right.” Marty said.
“Looks like you already made a friend with his son.”
“Dad, seriously? Are you kidding me? He didn't exactly look friendly.” Marty said, remembering how the boy had glared at him. His father’s face fell, the excitement replaced by worry. “I guess school won't be so bad,” Marty said, feeling guilty instantly. His dad has enough to worry about, he didn’t need to be worrying about him too.
Besides, it wasn't really the school that Marty has a problem with. It just wasn't his school. There was nothing worse than being the new kid. Everyone knew that, everyone but adults.
They pulled into the parking lot of the museum, his father put their vehicle into park as he tried to gather his papers from the dashboard. Another thing that ran in the family was not a single one of them was organized, not by normal standards. They were a family of disorganized organization to say the least, but hey, whatever worked, right?
Marty slammed the door shut, turning to stare at the museum for the first time in a very long time. It was his grandfather's pride and joy. Marty's great-grandfather had originally built the museum in their hometown of Hallowell, hoping to share his love of artifacts and history with the surrounding communities. It worked. The museum was one of the most visited attractions in the state, drawing in tourists and locals year round.
The museum was constructed of marble and granite that his great-grandfather, Nicholas Babsfy, had shipped to Maine from all over the world. Its marble columns soared out of the ground to support its dome-shaped roof. At the top of the stairs before the wide entranceway was a statue of the Greek god, Zeus, carved entirely of stone, intricately depicted to capture every detail of the legendary god. Marty’s great-grandfather used local artisans to construct the museum, further solidifying their ties to the community and its people.
Marty stared in awe at the statue of Zeus sitting on his marble throne that cascaded into a brilliant waterfall. One hand crossed over his midsection while the other was raised high in the air, a lightning bolt held tight in his fist. Water fell gracefully down his raised arm into the base of the statue where it formed a tranquil pool that was filled with glittering coins, castaway wishes. The statue must have been at least twenty feet tall and seven feet wide, its massive frame casting a shadow over them as they made their way through the revolving doors that led into the museum corridor.
“I forgot how amazing this place was,” Marty turned to look back at his father with a grin. “Everything looks so different.” Marty spun around trying to take everything in at once.
“I'm surprised you remember much at all. You were barely six the last time you were here. Your grandfather carried you on top of his shoulders as he gave you the grand tour.” Richard replied, a sad smile on his face at the memory.
“Dad, look at this!” Marty hurried over to a full suit of armor that was set up on display. Beside the armor was a two-handed battle axe displayed in a glass case. “This is so cool.”
“There’s too much to see in one day. It would take you a good week to see all the exhibits and even then you would miss something. I have to drop off these papers in your grandfather's office and then I want to show you some of the shipments he brought back from Egypt.”
“You mean the stuff from Kutkara's tomb?” Marty asked, truly smiling for the first time since they had left school.
Richard nodded with a smile as they hurried through long corridors graced with paintings, ornate vases, and towering sculptures. His dad had already met the staff earlier that morning and knew most of them by name. Marty waved hello as he hurried behind his dad.
His grandfather’s office was massive, mahogany shelves overflowing with every treasure imaginable. His grandfather loved artifacts and that love was evident in his own private collection. There was a jewel-encrusted sword hung on the wall behind his desk, its hilt glittering brightly in warning. Marty could almost hear the battle cry of the warrior who had once brandished the weapon.
An ancient piece of pottery was proudly displayed on a marble stand. Marty gently ran his hand over the hardened clay, transported back in time with one simple touch. He could feel the hot sun beating on the earth outside a little adobe as children ran by barefoot, their laughter suspended in time.
Richard placed the folders on the desk. “Are you ready to see the shipments? Most of crates haven't been opened yet.”
Marty nodded excitedly as he followed his father into the storage room, wondering if what his grandfather discovered in Egypt has been worth all the years he had sacrificed.
Now Available
Marty Boggs & The Discovery of the Mummy's Tomb Page 7