The Time-Traveling Fashionista and Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile

by Bianca Turetsky

  “I will protect you,” Louise replied, much more bravely than she felt. But once she said it out loud, she felt more courageous inside. Maybe that was the way bravery worked.

  “What if they have let out a poisonous asp in the palace, as they did to my favorite handmaiden, Alexas?” Cleopatra asked, alarmed.

  A poisonous asp? Meaning, a deadly snake? Louise’s eyes widened as she clutched the blanket up to her neck. “What happened to Alexas?” Louise couldn’t help but ask, already knowing she probably didn’t want to learn the answer to that one.

  “It was so sad. The snake slithered under her bedsheets and attacked her when she was sleeping. Once the venom hit her bloodstream, she died almost immediately. She didn’t even know what bit her, poor thing. But at least she didn’t seem to suffer as Eiras did.”

  Louise gulped. She definitely didn’t want to know what happened to Eiras, particularly if she ever wanted to sleep again.

  “Tomorrow morning I will have my personal physician, Olympus, collect all the antidotes so they are ready in case we are targeted. We must be prepared for everything,” the queen continued determinedly.

  Louise felt the itch again on her foot and bolted upright on the floor, throwing off the bedding. Ohmigod. Was it the poisonous asp? She looked down, shaking out her wool blanket, but there was nothing under the covers, for now. A tiny mosquito buzzed around by her toes.

  “Is everything fine, Charmian?” Cleopatra inquired, concerned.

  “I think so,” Louise replied hesitantly. “I’m not tired. I think I’ll just sit here for now and keep guard.” Antidotes, deadly snakes, murder plots—what had she gotten herself into? If only she had never opened that trunk of source material. She couldn’t help but feel as if this potentially deadly turn of events was some sort of punishment for stealing the pearl necklace from the wardrobe department. Louise was definitely feeling homesick for her own more mundane life in the suburbs. Bored as she was in class every day, boring didn’t seem so bad right now. But if she was ever going to get back, she definitely needed to find that necklace.

  When she opened her sleep-crusted eyes and found the bright sunlight streaming in through the tall windows, Louise realized she must have miraculously fallen asleep after all. She turned over and screamed when she saw that she was eye-to-eye with a leopard, before remembering that the pelt of this deadly animal was actually her new bed.

  “Charmian, why do you keep screaming?” she heard Cleopatra grumble from her much more comfortable setup a few feet away. “It’s beginning to give me a dreadful headache.”

  “Sorry. Bad dream,” Louise mumbled sheepishly.

  “I need you to go down to the marketplace in Alexandria for me today. I would like for you to pick up some provisions for the dinner with the Roman general. I will need a sack of freshly ground cinnamon for the pastries, providing we make it to the dessert course, and some vegetables, but not the freshest ones, the ones that look almost rotten. And perhaps some old garlic and onions as well,” she ordered from behind the sheer curtains, which Louise realized must also serve as protection from mosquitoes. Her own itchy legs were covered with bright red welts.

  Rotten produce seemed like a rather peculiar request to serve at a dinner party for a famous general, but, of course, Louise agreed without questioning it. Her free will seemed severely restricted at this moment in time. And besides, she was excited to leave the palace (which was beginning to feel rather dangerous) and explore the city of Alexandria before returning to her ordinary life in Connecticut. She promised herself she would try to get back to the twenty-first century before things got even more perilous, but in the meantime, she was going to see the capital of ancient Egypt firsthand! And what better way than by shopping? Maybe she could even get some new sandals—Charmian seemed long overdue for another pair.

  Cleopatra rang a tiny silver bell on her bedside table, and a line of handmaidens in matching gauzy white linen dresses entered the bedroom to get her ready for the day. “Send for Canidius. I’d like to hear some poetry as I bathe,” she ordered. “Some lyre music would be nice as well.”

  One of the women handed Louise a new sheath, similar to the one she’d worn yesterday but dyed a drab muted beige color. The royals definitely got a much better wardrobe selection. Louise was also handed a clay dish of something that must have been her breakfast, without any utensils. She suspiciously eyed the bowl of white mush—it was fish, and with the head still attached! Louise had never particularly liked seafood, and for breakfast it was even harder to stomach. She watched jealously as Cleopatra picked at a plate of juicy, ripe orange melon while wearing a comfortable-looking rose-colored silk robe and sitting leisurely on a mound of feather pillows. Louise felt her mouth water. She couldn’t believe she was actually coveting a cantaloupe. Creeped out that her breakfast was looking back up at her and without taking a single bite, she discreetly set it down on a teak side table when no one was looking.

  Following Cleopatra’s instructions, one of the chambermaids gave Louise some empty burlap sacks for the vegetables and an embroidered silk change purse full of foreign money. Louise examined the variety of different-size silver and gold coins in her hand, wondering how much they were worth. Cleopatra noticed Louise studying the money and remarked over her shoulder, “Heed my words, one day my face will be on those coins. No other woman has ever had her profile on her own currency. I will be the first. One day I want my face to be recognized all over the known world.”

  “I can pretty much guarantee that will happen,” Louise said with a bit of foresight. Little did Cleopatra know that she would become one of the most iconic figures of all time, immortalized by everyone from William Shakespeare to Angelina Jolie. “The whole world will know your name for thousands of years to come,” Louise assured her. Cleopatra looked pleased.

  “That is exactly what I intend.”

  Louise ran through the grand columned entranceway, down a wide flight of shallow marble steps, and bounded out of the tall, imposing palace gates, determined to start fresh and to explore as much of the old city of Alexandria as she could. Down the hill, she entered a wide white street guarded by two huge black marble sphinx sculptures that led into the heart of a crowded and lively walled city. The vast avenue seemed to be a mile across and was teeming with people shopping and selling their wares at tightly packed kiosks along the sides of the road.

  Louise was immediately overcome by an intense array of smells that assaulted her nostrils. She could make out the rich fragrance of spices, the earthy scent of horses, cinnamon, incense, and the briny sea. Alexandria seemed to be a crowded and bustling port city. The merchants she passed were selling colorful silks, dried fruits, musky perfumes, and exotic oils, and they all called out to her at once to come and try their specialties. She couldn’t resist plunging her hand into a barrel of dried red beans and feeling the smooth small pods reach up to her elbow. The city was loud. Besides the cacophony of the venders, wooden carts clattered, rolling over the bumpy stone streets, and the competing melodies of various street musicians playing their lutes, lyres, and drums as they danced down the path fought to be heard.

  Suddenly famished and remembering that she had left the palace without eating any breakfast, Louise bought a large purple fig from a young barefoot girl wearing a dyed pink piece of linen fabric draped over her left shoulder and tied at the waist. Louise strolled toward the sea, taking a juicy bite of sweet pulpy fruit as she watched the fishermen mend their nets. She paused to feel the salty sea breeze coming in from the Great Sea that made the air feel a lot cooler and more pleasant than up at the palace. In the midst of the choppy blue water, beyond the large wooden sailboats and intimidating military ships, Louise saw a light emanating from a towering lighthouse. It was like a skyscraper, at least forty stories tall! It was constructed of gray stone, with a statue of Poseidon, whom Louise knew to be the God of the Sea, and his giant trident perched at the very top. She suddenly realized she was looking at one of the Seven Wonders of t
he Ancient World. Not bad for a morning stroll!

  She could have stood there all day, but unfortunately her feet were killing her. Her flimsy shoes felt as if they were made out of papyrus, and Louise was basically walking around on two pieces of paper. She should have worn Charmian’s thin leather sandals. She hopped up onto the low stone seawall to continue her people watching and noticed that a lot of the men and women in the city weren’t wearing any shoes at all. Most of the women were wearing simple pieces of dyed blue, green, or cream-colored linen wrapped around them and tucked at the waist. Many of the younger children had their heads shaved as Charmian did and weren’t wearing any clothes at all! The men were dressed in kilts or loincloths. Apparently Marc Jacobs wasn’t the first to try out this look—lots of men wore skirts in the ancient world! All of them—men, women, and children—were wearing kohl-rimmed eye makeup, and Louise wondered if it was less for fashion and more like how football players had black smudges under their eyes to somehow protect themselves from the strong glare of the sun. Considering Louise wasn’t wearing sunglasses, the harsh late morning light should have been blinding, but surprisingly it wasn’t.

  Suddenly, Louise’s ears caught a bit of a conversation going on a few feet away. “He was just a Roman puppet. Why will his heirs be any different?” said a man dressed in a soldier’s uniform to his friend leaning against the wall.

  “Hopefully the young Ptolemy does not worship the god Dionysus as his father did. The entire nation’s coffers drunk away. Good riddance,” he replied, spitting on the dirt in disgust. Louise realized they were speaking badly about Cleopatra’s father, Ptolemy, who’d died recently! She discreetly scooted closer so she could hear their conversation better.

  “And then the Greek had the gall to tax us. Not that he could tell us about it,” the man laughed.

  “No, he didn’t speak a word of Egyptian! Too busy drinking wine to communicate with his people,” the other said, shaking his head ruefully.

  “And now the situation we’re in. We are at the mercy of the Romans. I never thought I would see this in my day. Curse those Greeks!” The soldier extracted from his belt his long polished sword, which glittered in the sunlight.

  “With this drought, it is doubtful there will be enough corn for the upcoming year. Meet me at the palace tomorrow evening. There will be a protest,” the other whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

  “I will inform the rest of the men,” he said, placing his sword back in its sheath. So the people of Alexandria are planning some sort of demonstration? Louise hoped that it would be a peaceful gathering, but looking at the size of the sword attached to this man’s leather belt, she had a sinking suspicion that wouldn’t be the case. She needed to warn Cleopatra. It seemed the queen was right about needing to take action immediately.

  Louise jumped off the wall to buy vegetables and head back to the palace before she was missed. But maybe she could squeeze in just a little more sightseeing, she thought, checking out an impressive-looking columned building that appeared to be some sort of temple. After all, how often was she going to be in Egypt? Particularly ancient Egypt! She skipped up a steep flight of marble steps and poked her head into the tall arched doorway to discover that it wasn’t a church but rather the most impressive library Louise had ever seen! There must have been more than a hundred thousand scrolls, all tucked into their own cubbyholes, each one labeled with a gold tasseled tag. Intellectual-looking men with long black beards dressed in floor-sweeping white robes were pacing the room, intently discussing ideas and passionately arguing about philosophy, while others sat silently reading at dark wooden desks. Louise had a feeling that she’d be learning about these people in her textbooks in high school, or maybe even college. She overheard someone talking about how to measure the size of the earth using the projection of shadows. For a second, she wished she could slip them a piece of paper with E=MC2 or another scientific discovery from the future that would totally blow their minds. She’d seem like an absolute genius. Before she had a chance to tamper with history, though, she was spotted.

  “Excuse me!” yelled an old white-haired man, probably the royal librarian, as he carried an armful of scrolls past the entrance. “What business do you have in here?” he asked accusingly, dropping the rolled-up paper on a dark polished tabletop and heading surprisingly quickly in her direction.

  “Oops, I seem to have lost my way!” Louise exclaimed as she ducked back out of the building, not wanting to cause a bigger scene. She wanted to draw as little attention to Charmian as possible and had to remind herself that she was in the body of a female servant and probably not even allowed in this library for two thousand more years.

  Louise filled her two empty burlap sacks with nearly rotten produce as requested, getting strange looks from the shopkeepers as she deliberately passed over the fresher vegetables. The sun was giving off its warm late afternoon amber glow, and she decided to head back to the palace before she had to find her way back in the dark. But after a few wrong turns, a frustrated Louise glumly admitted to herself that she was lost in a maze of alleyways that looked alarmingly similar. She turned another wrong corner and ran directly into a short, wrinkly old woman shrouded in a dark hooded cloak. “Let me tell your fortune, dear. It will only cost you eighty drachmas. Don’t you want to know what the future has in store for you?”

  “I’m pretty sure I already know,” Louise responded, thinking wistfully back to her life in Fairview, a life that she was starting to miss very much.

  “It won’t take but a minute, dearie.” The wrinkled old woman, ignoring Louise’s protests, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her onto a low, rickety stool by a small round table draped in a worn multicolored tapestry cloth. She roughly turned over Louise’s right hand and began studying the lines on her palm. “Very unusual… I’ve never seen anything like this,” she finally admitted, puzzled. “The tea leaves will help us decipher your path,” she said, pouring a bit of tea from a silver pot and swirling the white ceramic cup filled with muddy-colored water three times counterclockwise. She turned the teacup over, dumping the hot liquid into a saucer, and eagerly looked inside. Louise glanced over at the bottom of the cup and saw nothing. It was completely clear and spotless, as if it had just gone through the dishwasher. “This has never happened before,” the woman said, narrowing her dark eyes. “It’s like you don’t even exist.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Louise interjected, trying to be polite and excuse herself before anything could really be discovered about her. She tried to get up from the table, but the woman yanked her back down onto the stool with a swift pull.

  “Let me consult my crystal ball. You seem to be quite a unique case.” This time the puzzled psychic pulled out a shiny, mirrored ball from beneath the table, and Louise realized that she was about to be in big trouble. From her two other time-traveling adventures on board the Titanic and at the palace of Marie Antoinette, the one and only place where her true self could be seen by everyone was in the reflection of a mirror. She had quickly learned to avoid them at all costs. But before Louise could excuse herself again, the old woman peered down into her magic ball and saw Louise’s real face, the face of a twelve-year-old girl from a different era, staring back at them, wide-mouthed, with braces and all. And, Louise noticed, annoyed, she seemed to have sprouted a bright red pimple on her chin. Louise, not Charmian, was reflected up at them, and she looked terrified. That was definitely Louise’s cue to get out of there pronto.

  “Who are you?” the woman asked harshly. “What are you?” She grabbed Louise’s arm tightly so she couldn’t run off. Louise was totally freaked out and having flashbacks to her terrible experience with Dr. Hastings on the Titanic, where she almost didn’t escape.

  “Ummm… it’s a long story… I must go. Queen Cleopatra will be looking for me!” At the mention of Cleopatra’s name, the soothsayer instinctively released Louise’s wrist, but she continued yelling, alerting the neighbors, who were starting to gather on their balconies
and trickle into the streets to see what all the commotion was about.

  “You are not of this time! Are you an evil spirit?” the palm reader accused loudly.

  Louise grabbed her overflowing bags of vegetables and sprinted on Charmian’s slippery paper shoes through the dark, narrow streets, fleeing the old woman before she was exposed for who she really was! She ran through a web of narrowing alleys until she eventually made it back to the main drag, just in time to see the sun dipping down in the horizon. Panting and utterly exhausted, she began to climb up the hill with her heavy burlap sacks filled of greenish onions and limp squash. It wasn’t until Louise finally made it back to the palace that she realized she had forgotten the cinnamon.

  “Did you get everything I requested?” Cleopatra asked when Louise finally found her in a room that looked like a fancy Moroccan spa, soaking in a large tub beneath water spotted with pink rose petals. Louise had dropped the vegetables in the kitchen with the cooks and decided not to mention the missing cinnamon. There was no way she was going back into town after that harrowing experience.

  “I left it all in the kitchen,” Louise replied, not quite answering the question. The walls of the room were tiled with aqua green and turquoise blue mosaics of sea creatures, and in the center there was a massage table draped in blush-colored silk with glass bottles of different perfumes and oils all around. The steamy spa was lit with hundreds of white candles, and the scent of incense was making her head spin. There was a pretty pink-cheeked chambermaid massaging some kind of oil that smelled like coconuts into Cleopatra’s dark, naturally curly hair, while another sat on the side of the tiled ledge playing a harp. Why couldn’t she have come back as a queen instead of a lowly handmaiden, Louise thought grumpily. She longed to soak her painfully blistered feet and burning soles in the perfumed water.