by Jon Scieszka
“I drop the papyrus. I catch it between my thumb and finger. I drop it. I catch it. Easy, yes?”
Hatsnat nodded.
“Then let’s see if you are as fast as a magician. I’ll drop it. You catch it.”
Hatsnat held out his thumb and forefinger. I placed the papyrus between them and asked, “Ready?”
“Of course.”
I dropped the papyrus. He missed by a mile.
“I wasn’t ready.”
I dropped it again. He missed again.
“The light is dim.”
Missed again.
“Something was in my eye.”
Not even close.
“Enough!” Hatsnat sliced the air with his whip. He was still mad, but you could tell he was looking at us differently. I figured I’d better keep him guessing while I had him believing us.
“Another simple challenge.” I put the piece of papyrus on the floor about two feet away from the wall. “Stand with your heels against the wall. Bend over and pick up the papyrus without moving your feet.”
Hatsnat frowned. “That is simple for a great priest. Here, hold the torch.”
Hatsnat placed his heels against the wall, bent forward, and just about fell on his face. “I wasn’t truly trying.” Hatsnat started again, bending slowly forward. Sam and Fred gave me the thumbs-up sign. Hatsnat staggered.
“So you see we really are magicians,” said Sam. “We’re not robbers.”
“Yeah,” said Fred. “We thought this was King Tut’s tomb. We didn’t even know that it was your secret room in the Pharaoh’s temple.”
Hatsnat’s eyes narrowed to little slits. This did not seem like a good thing. “Yes, you do know this is my secret room, don’t you?”
“Oh, but don’t worry,” said Sam. “We won’t tell anyone, really.”
“Really,” said Hatsnat. “No, I guess you won’t.” He rubbed his bald head and gave us a funny look. “Well, what am I thinking? The Pharaoh would be very angry with me if I did not welcome such great magicians with the proper gifts. Come with me.”
Hatsnat led us out the doorway and through a maze of hallways left and right, up and down, and back around. The walls were covered with brightly colored carvings of gods and goddesses. I spotted my personal favorite—Thoth, the ibis-headed god of writing.
We slipped through a gap in the stone wall and came out behind a curtain into a huge room with statues, jars, crowns, and a million pieces sparkling with gold and jewels. Suddenly Hatsnat was our best friend.
“Take whatever you desire,” he said. “The Pharoah’s treasure is your treasure.”
Fred picked up a miniature gold mummy coffin.
Hatsnat helped Sam with a falcon-shaped neck piece bigger than him.
I couldn’t decide between a gold statue of Osiris and a great-looking dagger.
“Nice work with the paper tricks,” whispered Fred. “You definitely faked him out.”
“A little knowledge of reflexes and the human body’s center of gravity,” I said modestly. “No one can do those things, but he doesn’t know that.” I tried on a few scarab rings.
Sam folded a crook and flail across his jeweled chest. “King Sam.”
“But how come he speaks English?” said Fred. “Or do we understand Egyptian?”
“There’s always some kind of instant translation thing that happens in all of the time travel books I’ve ever read,” said Sam. “Because if they didn’t have that, none of the characters would understand what each other was saying.”
“Oh,” said Fred.
I settled on the dagger and an ankh symbol necklace. “Yeah, I’ll have to look that up in The Book when we find it.”
“Do us all a favor,” said Sam, adjusting his new Pharaoh beard. “Don’t.”
We were so busy talking and comparing treasures that none of us noticed Hatsnat edging toward an outer doorway. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him suddenly push over a huge statue. I thought he’d gone crazy. The giant stone nose smashed off the statue’s face with a deafening crash as it hit the floor. We froze as we heard the sounds of shouts and running. We saw Hatsnat smile one awful smile. Then I understood. But it was too late.
Hatsnat leaned out the doorway and yelled, “Thieves! Robbers! Help! They smash the Pharaoh’s very image! Help! Help!”
In a matter of minutes we were caught red-handed. Strong Egyptian workers dragged us out into blinding daylight and tied us with our arms stretched out across a stone block.
“They are thieves,” said Hatsnat. “Kill them.”
“Wait a minute,” said Sam. “Can’t we discuss this? Let’s not be so hasty.”
Hatsnat paused. “You’re right.” He turned to the guard holding his very large sword over our heads. “Let’s not be so hasty. First, chop off their hands. Then chop off their heads.”
FIVE
When someone is about to die in a book, they usually say “their life flashed before them.” The only thing that flashed before me was that my mom was going to be awfully mad at me for losing my sister in ancient Egypt.
Hatsnat laughed at his own bad joke. His guard raised his sword. And we were about to become the Time Warp No-Hands Trio when someone yelled.
“Hatsnat! Hold that sword. What terrible ritual is this at the entrance to the Pharaoh’s temple?”
“They are robbers, sire. We caught them stealing treasure and smashing statues.”
“Stand them before me.”
The guards untied us and dragged us in front of a boy in a white robe.
“Bow before the king,” said the big brute with the sword. He looked disappointed at having missed a chance to chop off a few body parts.
Sam adjusted his glasses. “What king? I don’t see any king.” The guard whacked Sam across the back with the flat of his sword.
“There in front of you, worm. Now bow.”
“Hey, lay off the sword work there, big boy,” said Fred. “If you want to mess with someone, bring it on.” Fred raised his hands and got into his fighting stance.
I decided I would like to keep my hands and head attached to my body, so I jumped in between them. “The Time Warp Trio, sire. At your service.” I bowed to the boy in the robe. He was a guy about our age. Short black hair and a friendly look on his face. “We are three magicians who have lost our way from our world due to ... uh ... technical difficulties. We never meant to steal any treasure. We’re just looking for one small book, one small girl, and a cat.”
The boy king looked at the three of us and smiled. “Magicians? Really?” He checked out Fred’s sneakers. “And those must be magic sandals.”
That’s when it hit me. Boy king? “Excuse me, sire. But is your name King Tut?”
“No. It’s Thutmose,” said the king. “Thutmose III to be exact. Someday I will be the greatest king of all. But can I try those on? What can they do?” So he wasn’t King Tut, but he was crazy for Fred’s basketball sneakers.
Fred swapped shoes for sandals with the king. “These will give you the power to drive the lane and sky to the hoop. Here, let me show you.” Fred made a quick hoop by sticking a loop of reed in a crack in the stone wall, then he passed me a pomegranate from one of the worker’s lunches. I shot a quick jumper right through it.
“Yes!” said Sam in his best Marv Albert imitation.
In half a second we were running all over the temple steps showing the king reverse layups, three-sixty spins, and windmill jams. Thutmose was a natural.
“The Pharaoh is deep in the corner,” said Sam into a handy papyrus-branch microphone. “The shot clock is down to three. He fakes left, drives right, and slams home the pomegranate to win it at the buzzer!”
Thutmose slapped Fred a high-five and we sat down. It was then that we noticed Hatsnat looking completely bent out of shape.
“Sire, these three are thieves. The law says we must deal with them severely.”
“Oh, take it easy, Hatsnat,” said Thutmose. “These are not thieves. These are my frie
nds.” Fred, Sam, and I smiled.
“Yeah. Chill out there, Warm Goober,” said Sam. “We’re hanging with the king.”
Hatsnat did his eye-narrowing thing again.
“But to satisfy the law,” said Thutmose, “we will bring them back to the palace. The Pharaoh can decide what must be done. After all, it is her temple where they were found.”
I was confused. “But I thought you were the Pharaoh. Isn’t this your temple?”
“I am Pharaoh and so is my aunt Hatshepsut,” said Thutmose. He pointed up the huge tiers of steps and columns that disappeared back into the rock. For the first time we noticed hundreds of workers swarming all over. Some of them were carving the finishing touches on a lane of sphinxes leading up to the temple. Another line of them hauled a giant column over wooden rollers with ropes. “This is to be Hatshepsut’s temple.”
“There goes one week’s allowance and a week of kitty-litter cleaning,” I said.
“But I am the son of Thutmose II, and I will rule when I grow up,” said Thutmose. He looked around, and everyone including Fred, Sam, and me naturally gave him a little bow. There was definitely something kingly about him. “To the boats everyone,” he ordered. “We’re going back to the palace.”
Thutmose led us down from the cliffs to a broad, slow-moving river. A whole gang of attendants trailed behind. Hatsnat brought up the rear whispering something to two of his priests. I recognized them as the ones who had dropped the trunk in Hatsnat’s secret room.
“I don’t trust that guy,” said Fred.
“Oh you can trust him,” said Sam. “Since we are the only ones who know he’s making his own secret room inside the Pharaoh’s temple, you can trust him—to do everything he can to get rid of us.”
SIX
Everyone boarded the three boats at the dock. Hatsnat joined us in the royal boat. It had one big square sail and two long steering oars along each side. We pushed off up the river against the current, leading our mini-fleet of three ships. Birds flew overhead. Palm trees and papyrus waved in the wind along the wide river.
“Wow,” said Sam. “The Nile—the Perfect River.”
“Yes,” said Thutmose. “Though not so perfect these days. Everyone waits and prays for the Inundation.”
“Inna-what?” said Fred.
“Inundation,” answered Sam. “When the Nile overflows its banks every year. That’s how the fields are watered and fertilized.”
“How faskinating, Professor Sam,” said Fred. “And can you also tells us what methods of irrigation are used during dry periods?”
“Why yes,” said Sam. “Most farmers use a system of canals and a long pole with a bucket and a counterweight called a shaduf to—”
Fred slapped Sam with his hat. “I was just kidding. Save it for social studies.”
The captain of our boat trimmed the sail, and we picked up speed. Water gurgled off the side and curled into a wake behind us.
“This is fantastic,” I said, looking out over the great river with boats of all sizes coming and going. Here was a civilization that had lasted for three thousand years. It made our two hundred years of U.S. history look like the blink of an eye.
“Yeah,” said Fred, leaning over to watch our wake. “Totally fantastic. If I had a board, I’d be wake jumping and Nile surfing in a minute.”
“It is a beautiful land,” said Thutmose. “And when I rule, I plan to make Egypt the greatest land it has ever been. What is your land like?”
“Well the East River is a little different from the Nile,” said Sam. “Not so many palm trees. More apartment buildings and highways.”
“Apartment buildings? Highways?” said a familiar creepy voice. “What are those?” Hatsnat appeared, like a bad smell in a dark movie theater—no one knows where it comes from.
“That’s how we magicians live,” said Sam. “Houses are a hundred feet up in the air. Metal chariots go ten times faster than we’re sailing now.”
“Is it possible?” said Thutmose.
“Just what I was thinking, sire,” said Hatsnat.
This did not make Sam happy. “You think you’re such Hatsnat, why don’t you—”
“Hey, what’s that?” interrupted Fred.
Thutmose looked over the rail at a cluster of shapes in the water. “Hippos and crocodiles. They usually stay away from boats. With the dry weather they grow bolder looking for something to eat.”
“Creatures of chaos and the god Seth is what they are,” muttered Hatsnat. “As Seth ripped the body of Osiris into pieces, so would his creatures tear us apart. Look. One swims toward us.”
Sure enough, one of the thin crocodile heads was slicing through the water right for our ship. Thutmose pulled out a small blue hippo hanging on a string around his neck. “Hold up your amulets. That will chase them off.”
Hatsnat held up his green crocodile amulet, then gave us that sneaky smile of his. “The great magicians have no amulets?”
“We don’t need no stinking amulets,” said Fred, quoting one of his favorite movies.
“Yeah,” Sam chimed in. “We’ve got stronger magic.” He dug in the pocket of his jeans, pulled out a paper clip, and held it over the rail toward the approaching crocodile.
And I’m not sure exactly what happened next. Hatsnat claimed it was an accident. One minute Thutmose, Sam, and Hatsnat were holding their amulets toward the crocodile. The next minute the boat shifted, Hatsnat fell into Sam, and Sam was over the rail and in the Nile.
The boat sailed on, leaving Sam splashing in its wake. The hungry crocodile saw the splashes and changed his course and his dinner plans.
“Turn the boat around,” I yelled.
Hatsnat rubbed his little green crocodile. “Don’t worry. The great magician should be fine with his powerful amulet.”
There was nothing we could do but watch in horror as our boat kept sailing, leaving Sam with nothing but a paper clip between him and one very hungry crocodile.
SEVEN
We rushed to the back of the boat.
“Man overboard,” yelled Sam, splashing to keep his head above water.
The crocodile closed in. Hatsnat rubbed his amulet and licked his thin lips.
“Throw him a line,” yelled Fred.
We ran around like crazy men, looking for something to throw to Sam. But there was no rope. The oars were lashed tight. The only loose thing on deck was a long wooden coffin. Fred and I tried to pick it up and throw it overboard. We could barely lift it an inch.
Sam’s head grew smaller and the crocodile head sped closer to him as we sailed away. A merchant ship, low and heavy in the water, passed us going the other way. I thought about trying to swing across the water to their ship to hitch a ride back to Sam. But Fred had a better idea.
Just as the merchant ship passed, Fred kicked the top off the coffin, held it to his chest, and took a running dive overboard. He skipped on top of the water like a perfectly thrown flat rock. He paddled a few quick strokes, then stood up on the coffin lid as the curling wake of the merchant ship pushed it forward.
“Hang on, Sam. I’m surfing the Nile,” hollered Fred. I let out a cheer.
The crocodile closed in. Sam backstroked and kicked away as fast as he could. Fred zoomed forward on the wake. An ugly green jaw full of teeth rose out of the water. Sam swam backward. Fred kicked his coffin surfboard forward.
Our captain took this moment to turn our boat. The sudden swerve knocked Thutmose and me off our feet. By the time we got back up, the only things I could see in the water were two pieces of well-chewed coffin lid.
I felt hot and cold and dizzy all at once.
Then I heard a familiar voice. “Ahoy, mateys, and cowabunga!” There was Fred, with one arm around a soggy-looking Sam. They had been picked up by the worker’s ship following us and were standing safely on the deck. We saw the crocodile’s head (with what looked like an extra lump) swimming for the safety of shore.
The captain brought our boat around, and picked up Sa
m and Fred.
“Most excellent sport and magic,” said Thutmose. “You must show me how it is done.”
“Sure, your highness,” said Sam, giving Hatsnat his own version of the evil eye. “But this time we’ll use Hatsnat for crocodile bait.”
Hatsnat mumbled something about defiling the sacred resting place of the Pharaoh and excused himself, saying, “I must consult the signs of the heavens.” Then he hurried off and made himself scarce for the rest of the voyage.
“I didn’t know you could surf,” I said to Fred.
“I didn’t either,” said Fred. “But I figured it couldn’t be too different from skateboarding or snowboarding. Kind of like waterboarding.”
“Thanks Fred,” said Sam. “That crocodile never knew what hit him.”
“That was nothing,” said Fred, squeezing Sam in a headlock. “Besides, we wouldn’t make a very good Time Warp Trio with only two guys.”
Once everyone dried off, we enjoyed just cruising the Nile. The sun shone bright in a dark blue cloudless sky. The warm wind pushed us upstream. Thutmose proudly showed off everything built along the shore by his ancestors.
Fred scanned the horizon with one hand over his eyes. “So where are the great pyramids, the Sphinx, and all that stuff?”
Thutmose laughed and pointed back downstream. “About a week’s journey that way.”
Sam checked the sinking sun on our right and the river current flowing against us. “Of course. We’re going with the wind and against the current. The delta and the Mediterranean are up north. We’re headed south for the ancient capital, modern-day Luxor.”
Fred squinted at Sam. “Of course.”
We docked at Luxor just as the sun was going down. When we had studied Egypt in class, it seemed like this dusty, dry place with a few donkeys and pyramids and people walking around sideways like they’re painted in those pictures. But the blazing sunset lit up a whole different scene.