I met the mayor, his wife, and the town’s district attorney. You want to talk about feeling out of place? I had absolutely nothing in common with these people. I caught the mayor throwing me curious glances every so often. Clearly he was familiar with my name and my brief, but colorful, history in his town.
Once there was a lull in the conversation I suggested to Jillian that we should head out and check out some of the exhibits. After all, we were here to see what curiosities have been set up, not to socialize. At least I was.
Let me take a moment to inform all the fine gents who might be reading this that you should never, ever suggest to a woman that she does too much socializing. Don’t hint at it, don’t suggest it, don’t even insinuate it. However, if you decide to not pay heed to my advice, thankfully most towns have at least one florist shop.
I was about ready to pull her away from her small group of friends when I thought better of it. I risked a sidelong glance at Jillian. She’s probably known these people her whole life. She’d be comfortable spending the entire evening renewing old acquaintances. As for me, I was curious to see what Egyptian Exhibitians had brought with them.
As we wandered the floor we saw display cases filled with ancient broken tablets covered with Egyptian hieroglyphs spanning every square inch. We came across one of the tables that had been draped with black felt. A variety of sticks and broken wood had been tastefully arranged across the surface. Some had bits of metal on them while others had tiny figures carved onto various locations.
“What’s with all the sticks?” I quietly asked Jillian.
“Tori told me a little about them. They’re canes, even if they might not look like them. See the marks on that one there? Near the curved head? I can see a figure of Anubis. There’s Osiris. Did you know that they found over 130 canes inside King Tut’s tomb? I can’t even imagine what one person is supposed to do with that many canes. Do you know how old these are?”
“Okay, I’ll bite. How old?”
“Some are at least 3,000 years old! That’s three millennia, Zack. Simply incredible.”
We moved to the large glass case that had caught my eye the moment we stepped inside the auditorium. This case had several racks of jewelry. Large golden pendants festooned with chipped pieces of jade and sparkling colored glass met my eye. Glittering gold rings, tarnished silver brooches, and a wide variety of earrings were in the next case over and were prominently displayed for all to admire.
I caught sight of a table filled with swords and weapons. I gently tugged Jillian away from the jewelry and made our way over. I heard Jillian gently tssk me.
“Boys and their toys.”
“How can you not want to look at a group of ancient weapons? Look at those swords. I can only imagine the battles they must have fought.”
“Why, Zachary Anderson. I do believe you’re having a good time.”
I smiled and shrugged. I couldn’t argue the point. I was surprised to learn that I enjoyed reading about ancient cultures. Seeing those battered and rusted swords had really got me thinking. As long as they didn’t have a…
“I was really hoping to see a mummy,” Jillian wistfully said, interrupting me in mid-thought. I could only hope I was giving her a blank stare. “Can you imagine seeing an actual mummified person who lived thousands of years ago?”
I fought to suppress a shudder. No thinking was required to answer that question.
“I’d rather not.”
“What? Why not?”
I thought back to all the countless monster movies I had watched as a child. Vampires, sea monsters, Frankenstein’s creation, werewolves. Of all of them, the movies which had spooked me the most were those having anything to do with dead people. More specifically, dead decrepit forms rising slowly out of their sarcophagi. Halting steps. One leg being dragged limply along behind the other. Outstretched arms… I shuddered again.
Look, I realize that it was completely irrational for me, a grown adult, to be spooked by mummies. Deep down I knew full well that it was physiologically impossible for a mummified person to come back from the dead. Why, then, should I have a problem with them? Thankfully I had already scanned the immediate area and was relieved to see that there weren’t any caskets anywhere. To be completely honest, that was the first thing I did as soon as I stepped foot in the auditorium.
By this time, we had wandered over to a table adorned with jewelry. Jillian was staring at me with the beginnings of a smile on my face. I certainly hoped she couldn’t tell I had a deep, irrational fear of mummies. The last thing I wanted to do was have to explain to her that I was afraid of breaking out into a cold sweat whenever the subject came up.
Thankfully we heard the unmistakable sound of someone tapping on a microphone. Good. Saved by the bell. We both looked over at the stage. An older gentleman wearing a black tuxedo, and sporting a very dark tan, was standing before the podium. He continued to tap on the mic to get everyone’s attention.
“Citizens of Pomme Valley. Good evening!”
There was a polite round of applause. People began moving to the dozens of rows of seat arranged before the stage. Jillian and I took our seats right next to Vance and Tori.
“We, the curators of the Egyptian Exhibitions, are delighted to be able to bring you a little piece of our Egyptian culture. I am Dr. Asiz Tarik, lead curator. Come with me as we explore the rich culture of the Eighteenth Dynasty of Egypt, a period of time stretching from circa 1533 to 1292 BC.”
The good doctor cleared his throat and waited a few moments for a few stragglers that had just appeared to join the crowd. As soon as the two elderly couples had taken their seats Dr. Tarik decided to continue.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Tarik was saying, “as many of you will know, the Eighteenth Dynasty is the most eminent of all the Egyptian dynasties. Why? Because it can boast it included one of the most famous pharaohs of all time. Of course I’m talking about none other than Tutankhamun, the boy king. As you may or may not recall, his tomb was discovered by the esteemed Howard Carter in 1922. Tutankhamun ruled from circa 1332 to 1323 BC. He ended up marrying his half-sister, Ankhesenpaaten, and had several daughters. They…”
Just then we all heard a loud “Ewww!” The lurid exclamation echoed noisily in the cavernous auditorium. Snickers and laughter ensued. Everyone looked around to see if they could tell who had said it. The problem was, it was me. In my defense, I hadn’t shouted it, which is probably what you must have thought. I had said it in a normal voice, figuring it’d be drowned out by the curator’s discussion. However, I made the mistake of saying that at the same time in which our esteemed host had paused for dramatic effect and the whole damn auditorium had fallen deathly quiet.
“Zachary!” Jillian hissed at me, shocked and appalled.
I’m sure my face was flaming red by this point.
“Umm, sorry? Pardon me.”
The crowd continued to snigger at me. I risked a glance at Vance. He was shaking his head and laughing his ass off. Thankfully Tori was laughing, too. After a minute or two the laughter echoing throughout the auditorium died off.
“Continuing on,” the curator said, stifling his own chuckle, “Tutankhamun and his wife had two daughters. Both were stillborn, I’m afraid.”
The curator continued to talk about Tutankhamun’s life, his accomplishments, and his reign. I heard about how Tut reversed several changes his father had made, moved the capital from one city to the next, and even ended the worshipping of one god, Aten, to restore another, Amun.
It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later, when Dr. Tarik finally started talking about Tut’s tomb, and the artifacts found within, did the evening pick up. Unfortunately for me, Jillian was going to get her wish. Turns out the good doctor brought an authentic mummy with him. While insignificant in nature, this mummy was one of five that had been discovered inside one of the smaller chambers inside KV62. For those of you that don’t know what ‘KV62’ is, that’s the official designation of Tut’s tomb. Hey
, it’s okay. Up until a few minutes ago I didn’t know what that meant, either.
Much to my dismay, Dr. Tarik steered the discussion over to mummies and the Egyptian process of mummification. The process, Dr. Tarik explained, began with the complete evisceration of the body. Now, in case you’re not familiar with the word, allow me to shed some light on its definition:
Eviscerate [verb ih-vis-uh-reyt; adjective ih-vis-er-it, -uh-reyt]
1. To remove the entrails from; disembowel
2. To deprive of vital parts
3. Surgery. To remove the contents of (a body part)
If that doesn’t make you cringe, then this next part will. The removal of the brain. The brain was usually removed by way of a long, slightly hooked tool introduced through the nose. It was then swirled around a bit, liquefying the brain matter, and then the brain was poured out through the nose. Sound pleasant? I had to suppress a shudder. Apparently, according to the good doctor, it is not uncommon for the brain to be left in the mummy. However, that wasn’t the case for this poor fellow.
The next step was to desiccate the body.
Desiccate [des-i-keyt]
1. To dry thoroughly; dry up
2. To preserve (food) by removing moisture; dehydrate.
“The deceased,” Dr. Tarik lectured, “was laid out on a mound of natron salts – salts native to the area – and after a period of 35-70 days the salt would absorb all moisture. The flesh would shrink and the skin would darken.”
Let me interrupt here and say that by now I was completely and thoroughly grossed out. A quick glance around the room confirmed I wasn’t the only one. Flutes of champagne and plates of fancy hors d’oeuvres were quietly handed to the uniformed waiters who were unobtrusively moving through the crowds. I held out my own plate of Andouille sausage and crackers to a passing waiter. He grinned at me and took the plate without question.
“The final step,” Dr. Tarik said, “was to remove the lungs, intestines, stomach, and liver. Once dried out they were placed in four separate canopic jars, one each for the four sons of Horus. For protection.”
“What about the heart?” one woman asked from the audience.
“That’s Maya Nelson,” Jillian whispered in my ear. “She’s married to the police chief.”
“I remember him,” I whispered back. “He didn’t care for me too much. Trust me, the feeling was mutual.”
Dr. Tarik smiled and nodded, “The heart. I am glad you asked about that. The heart had to remain in place. It was believed that it would testify for the deceased in the afterlife. A scarab, or sometimes a pendant, was often placed over the heart to protect the deceased in his voyage to the afterlife.”
I leaned toward Vance.
“Remind me not to sign up to be mummified when I die.”
Vance nodded, ‘Right there with you, pal.”
“Hush,” Tori scolded, throwing a frown at both of us.
“Sorry,” Vance mumbled.
“Sorry,” I added, at the same time.
Dr. Tarik then launched into more details about why more than one mummy was oftentimes discovered in the same tomb. One of the ways to show status was to be buried with your possessions. All your possessions, it would seem. And that, unfortunately, included slaves.
I shook my head in disbelief. Poor unlucky bastards. Your king dies and you’re chosen to be mummified along with him? Talk about pissing off the wrong people.
Once more my mind drifted back to the monster movies I had seen when I was a kid. Considering my present circumstances, I really wish that the mummies didn’t creep me out as much as they did. Flashbacks of nightmares I had as a child came back to me. Shriveled, linen-wrapped crumbling fingers reaching out to me, desperate to wrap around my throat to squeeze the life out of me. Or suck all my fluids out so that it could be properly reanimated. Or…
I groaned, drawing a questioning look from Jillian. I gave her a shrug. I really did watch too many movies.
“Without further ado,” Dr. Tarik was saying, “it gives me great pleasure to introduce the star of Egyptian Exhibitions, Meriptah, direct from KV62. Here he is!”
“He’d better be there,” I quietly murmured.
“What was that?” Jillian softly inquired.
“The mummy. He’d better be there.”
“Where else would he be? Gone?”
“Yeah, you know, like he wandered off or something.”
“You heard what they did to mummies,” Jillian reminded me. “I’m quite certain he’ll be right where he’s supposed to be.”
There was a great splattering of applause as the red stage curtains were whisked away, revealing…
My stomach sank. I mean it literally felt like it suddenly dropped down to my toes. At the same time a woman screamed. Actually, I was pretty certain it was Mrs. Nelson, the police chief’s wife. Fingers began pointing. I quickly looked back at our host. Dr. Tarik’s expression was not something I was ever going to forget. There was a look of utter shock on his face, which quickly switched to sheer terror.
Behind the curtain a golden sarcophagus – nowhere near as ornate as King Tut’s – had been propped up at a 45° angle, allowing the audience to look inside. The lid was open and everyone could see there wasn’t any mummy nestled within. There were also five small glass display cases arranged in a semicircle behind the sarcophagus displaying a variety of golden trinkets and sparkling jewelry. Well, four of them were. One of them had been smashed apart.
Dr. Tarik rushed over to the sarcophagus and explored the inside with his hands, as though he wasn’t trusting what his eyes were telling him. Then, catching sight of the destroyed case, he cried out in dismay and hurried over to inspect the damage. Just then two men and one woman, dressed in identical dark green shirts and khaki pants, converged on the stage. They all gasped with surprise. Dr. Tarik gestured to the destroyed display.
“Good heavens! It’s gone! The Nekhbet Pendant has been stolen!”
TWO
Jillian’s surprised expression mirrored my own. Her shocked eyes met mine. She looked at me, back at the stage, and then back at me.
“How did you know that would happen?”
“I didn’t,” I insisted. “I was just joking!”
“Nobody touch anything!” Vance thundered, silencing the entire room. The detective rushed to the stage and clambered up the steps. “Nobody moves!”
Dr. Tarik looked up at Vance with an ashen look.
“Who – who are you?”
“Detective Vance Samuelson, PVPD.”
Two more men hurried to the stage and joined the small group of people. One was older, portly, and balding. He looked winded from his brief sprint up the stairs. The other was much younger – around my age – and looked more uncomfortable in his tux than I did in mine. The three of them huddled together, just like a football team would do when trying to decide on a play. For several minutes they all huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Suddenly Vance straightened, looked over at me, and then back at the older fellow. A few fingers were pointed my way.
“What’s going on?” Jillian asked in a low voice.
“I wish I knew. I don’t know why the hell they’re pointing at me. I had nothing to do with this.”
After a few more minutes the group broke apart. The older gentleman joined the others at the remains of the display case. The younger man headed to the open sarcophagus and inspected the insides. Vance again looked my way. His eyes briefly met mine before he looked over at Tori. He mouthed something, to which I saw her nod, and then looked back at me. What was he up to?
“Zack?” Vance’s voice rang out. “Could you come up here and give me a hand?”
Heads swiveled until all eyes were locked on me. Caught like a deer in headlights, I blinked stupidly at my friend. Jillian nudged my shoulder.
“Vance needs your help. You’d better go on up there.”
I threaded my way through the crowds of curious onlookers and made my way up the stairs. Dr. Tarik
and his companions had returned to the smashed display case and were staring wordlessly at the broken glass. I approached Vance and gave him a questioning look.
“What do you need me to do?”
“Get with Don and Rick and help secure the school. No one gets in or out.”
“Who’s Don and who’s Rick?” I asked, looking back at the sea of unfamiliar faces.
The two men that had joined Vance on the stage suddenly appeared by his side. The older man approached first.
“Don Reezen,” he announced, holding out a hand. “I’m principal of the school.”
“Richard Werther,” the other man added, also extending a hand. “I’m the vice principal here at PVHS.”
I shook both of their hands. I glanced back at Vance but he was already deep in conversation with Dr. Tarik. I pointed at the doors.
“I’m not sure what I can do but I’m more than happy to help. Come on. We need to make sure no one leaves. If something was stolen, then we need to make certain it doesn’t leave the premises. If it does, then who knows what type of curse will befall us.”
Principal Reezen nodded and ignored my failed attempt to lighten the mood, “Agreed. Rick, grab every teacher you see. Post someone at every entrance into the school. I’ll stand watch by the main entrance. We’ll need someone at both the east and west school entrances. There are four doors leading into this auditorium. I want someone posted at each door. Oh, don’t forget the loading bays in maintenance.”
Richard nodded and hurried off.
“What should I do, Don?” I asked the principal. “You guys obviously know this school better than I do. I’m not even sure why Vance wanted my help.”
Case of the Fleet-Footed Mummy Page 3
