by Mark Tiro
Wow! I wasn’t actually wearing that many clothes at all! I was half… naked! But with it being so hot outside, it just seemed normal. Still… just—wow! And this jewelry I was wearing, too! It didn’t even feel weird being half naked because the other half was covered in gold.
And Angel was my slave girl. I stood up, and suddenly the other slave girls all bowed down.
To me.
Angel bowed down to me, too—though she kept fanning me the entire time, even while she was on her knees bowing down to me.
I must be really important, I thought. I mean, like—really important.
I am a princess, and I have power over Angel—to make her do whatever I want. This is going to be awesome.
She is going to have to feel what I felt when I caught her together with Steve. And Steve. Steve—he’s going to be mine. She’ll have to live with that—just like she’d done to me when she slept with him at the brunch.
“Ankhesenamen, Your Royal Highness.”
I stood there a moment longer than was comfortable, not just for the slave girls, but for me too, before I realized that was my name. Ankhesenamen. It was me the slave girl was addressing as ‘Your Royal Highness.’
“Yes, girl?” I heard myself saying, just as I saw myself beckoning to Angel. Weird, I thought. It’s almost like the words just rolled off my tongue. I realized that I didn’t even feel bad about it. I could get used to this. I did feel guilty for a second, but then I realized I could tell Angel what to do—whatever I wanted her to do—and she would have to do it. This would teach her, I thought.
“Stand when you address me, girl,” I added, with more authority this time.
She jumped up right away, but kept on fanning me.
“What’s your name, girl?” I asked, doubling down on the air of authority in my voice. This feels good, I thought.
“Nesitetat,” the slave girl answered.
But I knew she was really Angel.
Ha! This’ll show you, I thought.
“Well, what is it, girl? Why do you interrupt me with your blather?”
“You don’t know, Your Royal Highness?”
I stood there, motionless, giving her the sternest look I could muster, in order to cover up the fact that I really didn’t know.
I really had no clue.
“Today is the big day, Your Royal Highness.”
“The big day,” I answered, slowly. “Yes. Yes, it is. But still—that is no excuse for insolence from a slave. I can pardon you, this one time. And tell me, pray, slave girl—please tell me what you expect will happen on this big day today.”
This would kill two birds with one stone, I thought. I’d figure out just what I’d gotten myself into, and I’d also get to rub in (again) the fact that I got to tell her what to do and boss her around after what she’d done to betray me with… with…
Steve, I thought. Then I turned around to look to the place she was motioning to.
“Nibhurrereya,” Angel blurted—er, I mean Nesitetat the slave girl—blurted out. “Your Royal Highness.” She had turned now, addressing him, but her eyes were still trained on me.
Steve! I thought.
“My prince,” I said, taking a chance, as I looked deep into his dark eyes. It was him—that much I knew. But he looked totally different in this royal court than he did in real life, and I was kind of testing first to make sure.
“Yes, my Highest Priestess, and my Most Beloved, soon-to-be Concubine of the highest son on the living god on earth, Pharaoh, and soon to be my wife, and one day, Queen.”
Wow, I thought. That’s sure some way to address me. I must be a super important princess, I thought, deciding that even if I didn’t fully understand how this magic list worked—and it definitely worked—that I also definitely needed to relax and just go with it.
“I have longed for this day, to return from commanding the troops down beyond the Delta,” he went on, “to be here with you. To be here only with you, to lay with you under the canopy of the gods.”
“And me, you,” I stammered. I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next, but I saw Angel, or Nesitetat as she was called here, I suppose, draw back the linens to what was obviously the royal bed chamber.
As if it wasn’t already obvious enough, Steve’s attendants started to remove his clothes—mostly some gold-plated, ceremonial armor that I thought couldn’t have been much use for anything other than a photo shoot.
It’s not like any of us were wearing many clothes, in any event. And in the oppressive heat, this didn’t feel as weird to me as I thought it might.
I looked at Steve, but he looked stern as his attendants kept undressing him, one item at a time.
As they did, he took a step towards me, looked in my eyes with a look that didn’t seem to be scripted at all (unlike the rest of this ‘ceremony’ or whatever it was). Then he gave me a quick kiss.
A kiss! From Steve. I’d been waiting for this for so long…. I mean—not waiting as much as thinking, from time to time, how perfect it would be. Most of the time, I tried not to let myself even think about it, because thinking about Steve like that would get me all flustered. I could see his muscles rippling now, tensing, then relaxing, and glistening the whole time in the sweet-smelling oils his attendants were rubbing on.
The last garment covering his stomach came off. And then I could see it…. Them. Every last muscle in his stomach rippled across his body. He did not have an ounce of fat anywhere… but he had plenty of muscles. I lost myself in an instant. In my mind, my hands were around those glistening arms of his, caressing his shoulders. Then he reached around me from behind, pulling me tight into his chest.
But just like that, my daydream went—poof! Because now, here—for real—here he was now, kissing me. I expected my knees to buckle. I thought my heart would swoon and I’d give way, and he’d have to catch me.
But when he leaned down, his lips touching mine in our first kiss, something felt, just... weird.
That was no good.
This is not at all how I’d expected my first kiss with Steve to be. Sure, there was this weird, royal ceremony, and of course, all these people standing around watching us with no apparent clothes on. And Angel was here, of course, too. It creeped me out that she was watching, though I suppose on some level, I did enjoy the thought that she just had to stand here and take it—and that there was nothing she could do about it.
But no. It was something else… something… I don’t know. Kind of like kissing your grandma, was the closest I could describe it. Definitely not how I had expected this to feel my first time.
Steve—or whatever his name was—turned back to his attendants, and it was then that I got the weirdest, most uncomfortable feeling. Just as his attendant was lifting the last piece of his ceremonial armor off his chest (his glistening, gold breastplate), I got a glimpse in its reflection—of myself.
My face. I mean… I saw my face reflected back at me in his gold breastplate.
And what I saw of the reflection of my own face, well, it looked just like… just like… Steve!
Steve and I had the same high cheekbones, the same nose, those same eyes…. We looked just, exactly like… each other.
Now I was confused.
“Your Royal Highness,” Angel-turned-whatever-her-name-was, announced as she slipped the royal robe from my back before I knew what had happened. Now I was nearly completely naked, too. “May the gods consecrate your holy reunion with the divine Nibhurrereya, son of the most-high, leader-of-armies and conqueror-of-nations… and soon—your husband.”
I muttered something like ‘thank you’ as the slaves finally removed the last bit of my clothes. The garments fell to the ground around me. And here I was now, in all my royal princess glory. And then I felt the smallest push from behind, nudging me towards… towards the royal bed, and towards my date with the now-completely-naked Prince Steve.
Weird ritual, this one, I thought. But if this is how princesses rolled back then, I probabl
y shouldn’t be rude…
My thoughts were interrupted by her. Again. By Angel, or whatever her name was—her voice again. This time, though, it was directed not at me but at Prince Steve—or whatever.
“And most holy and divine Nibhurrereya, son of the most-high Pharaoh,” she said, stretching out her arm towards me, “may I present to you, your most loving sister.”
Aaaaahhhh! I screamed. Or at least I tried.
I’m about to sleep with… my brother??? Aaaaahhhh!
I screamed again.
The list… it worked… I mean, I am… I am a princess, right? This magic list really did work—but my prince in this lifetime is my… my… my brother? I just kissed my… my brother? Iiiickkkk! Noooooooo!
I fumbled around frantically. Where is it? Where is that damn list when you really need it? Prince Steve was completely naked now, all his clothes long since on the ground, and he was about to take his last steps towards the bed, towards… me.
All the slaves were bowed down now, watching the bed expectantly, waiting for us to… consummate this… this… list! Where is the list? Where is this damn list? Hurry, hurry!
Then I saw it out of the corner of my eye. There!
It was lying in the corner, mostly buried underneath the pile of the clothes I’d been wearing. That’s where I saw it, the now-familiar pad of paper and pen.
I lunged off the bed, towards the corner. Grabbing the pen, I tore that list open to the first page. The attendants were rushing towards me now. Obviously, for them, something was definitely wrong with their… ritual here. Worse—this naked guy… this… this guy who was my brother, I guess, in this fantasy or whatever, was walking towards me. And I could see now—here was the prince in all his glory.
And he was ready for action.
I clicked the pen open. Just as his hand was reaching out to mine, I scribbled a line across #2 and everything next to it—taking it all off of the list. Then I shut my eyes tight, bracing myself for whatever might happen next.
And then I immediately heard it. The now-familiar popping sound filled my mind, and an instant later, I found myself back at home, in my bedroom, staring down at the pad of paper in my hand.
9
Nine
I opened my eyes, looked around and much to my relief, saw that I was back in my room. For what seemed like the longest time, I just sat there on my bed, holding on to a couple pillows I’d pulled over myself, playing through everything in my mind. That princess thing… that’s not what I wanted. That’s not what I wanted at all.
After a while, I got up and walked over to the desk on the other side of my room. On it sat the pen, and next to it, the pad with its list. I opened it up to where I’d left off.
I considered putting on some music to try to feel better, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened. Then I got sidetracked between one thought and another. So, I guess, no music.
And so I just sat there, staring at that list as everything swirled around in my mind.
After a while, and once my thoughts had calmed down, I realized what I needed to do was obvious.
And so I took the pen out again, wrote a #3 underneath everything I’d crossed out in #2. And then I wrote out the next thing on my list.
As soon as I did, everything seemed to flash and glow and change around me, and there I was, face to face.
With him.
“David.”
The instant I sensed he was there, thinking his name, I got the sense I threw my arms around to hug him. The thought came to me that the biggest, warmest bear hug ever wouldn’t even be close to this feeling. It seemed like we melded into each other. It felt peaceful, like I was being protected. I felt safe. After a while, when everything seemed calm finally, I pulled back, seemed to stand up. My mind jumped straight back to my “princess” experience.
“What was that?” I burst out.
“Me? It’s nice to see you, too,” he smiled. “I thought you wanted to see me and talk, no? I mean, didn’t you just add that to your list? Wasn’t #3, ‘Go back to see David and find out what that was’?”
“Well, yes—that was number 3. But that’s not what I mean. I mean—number 2. I tried to be the bigger person. I mean, I wasn’t trying to get revenge on Angel.” I thought a second, then a little embarrassed, added, “Well, maybe just a little on Angel. For betraying me—we were best friends, and she slept with him… with Steve, after all. But not really revenge. I just… well—what could it hurt anybody if I were a princess and Steve was my prince?”
“You wrote that on your list?”
“You know I wrote it.”
“Just making sure,” he answered with grin. “Well, that’s what you got, wasn’t it? You were a princess and Steve was your prince, no?”
“No!” I blurted out. “Well, yes, I mean. Yes—I was a princess and he was a prince—but I didn’t want that! He was… my brother! Eewwww!”
“Oh, that. Well, you know, that sort of thing really was quite common in many ancient societies,” he said. His mischievous look was still there. “Still common in more modern societies than you would expect. The problems really come up in the next generation, when the babies can have some genetic issues…”
“Eewwww. Stop it! You know what I mean. I wanted Steve to be my prince—not my brother!”
“Two for one, no?” he asked.
“No.”
“Maybe you should be more clear in making your to-do list?”
“Clearer, you mean? I should be clearer? How clear do I have to be? Isn’t it just obvious?”
“I could help, if you’d like,” he said, gesturing off to the side. I looked over and saw that there was a door thrown open, and behind that, an entire classroom. “Now, if you’d like to learn a little more, Ms. Lee, please take your seat so we can begin.”
“No way. Not another classroom. I just want to not have the prince of my dreams—who should be the boy of my dreams—end up being my brother instead! That’s just… wrong. That would never happen at the magic kingdom.”
“Then why did you ask for it on your magic list?”
“Stop it! I did not ask for it. You know I did not ask for it on my magic list—or whatever it is!” I shot back. This was starting to get annoying now.
“Well, do you want to learn, or don’t you? Why don’t you take your seat so we can begin?”
“No. I get it. I’m sick of all of this. ‘Be more clear in what you wish for.’ Check. I got it. What else could you possibly have to tell me? I am so sick of sitting in classrooms, getting lectured to. You know what?” I asked out loud but still mostly rhetorically, still mostly to myself. “I’m done with Angel and Steve. I’m sick of both of them anyway, so you don’t need to lecture me on the do’s and don’ts of list-making. I don’t want to even know who they are anymore. I’m just so done. I don’t need either one of them. I can do this alone. Just leave me alone. No one needs to tell me what to do—I can figure it out on my own.” Then I turned and opened my list, stopping just to add, “But thank you anyway.”
I clicked the pen open and wrote a big #4. When I make up my mind about something, I can be great on my own. No one needs to tell me what to do.
No sooner had I finished writing the next entry on the list than I felt the now-familiar popping sound. Which is just about when everything grew dim and faded to…
10
Ten
Green?
How did this happen? It’s all green, everywhere. I am certain that this is absolutely not what I meant when I made that entry on my list. But still—here I am… I guess. But where exactly am I? I racked my brain, trying to figure out where it was that I had conjured myself up when I had written the entry on my list.
In a jungle, obviously. That much was clear. Well, maybe not a jungle, exactly, I reconsidered a moment. But definitely somewhere tropical, for sure. I looked around, trying to get my bearings on where exactly I had fallen. One thing I knew for sure: wherever I was, I was not a
lone.
Spread out in the distance, but off to each side of where I was, I saw what could only have been native guides. They were clearly familiar with the terrain and were scouting our path forward.
I looked down at my clothes. I was definitely in shape—maybe too good of shape. We were obviously just about as far from civilization as you could get. As I struggled on the rough terrain, I could see the muscles in my legs working. As I raised my arms to clear some brush blocking the path ahead, my arms came into view. Damn, I thought. I must be tough—look at me! And I’m not even tired at all (though it is really hot). All in all, though, what really stood out is that I was pretty much completely drenched in sweat.
Geesh! Does this list thingy not understand air conditioning? Then I looked down at the thing I was wearing that must’ve passed for a shirt. Wow! For a girl who hasn’t even graduated high school yet, I look… well, I mean—I look great. Lara Croft ain’t got nothing on me, I thought.
Then I saw the small notebook clipped onto a side pocket. I motioned for the guides to stop. Everyone sat down for a break, forming a sort of perimeter. I figured that would be good for defense, if we needed it.
Then I found a small rock outcropping and sat down too. I leaned up against it and took a long pull of water from the canteen strapped to my belt, or whatever this thing was that was slung across my waist.
Then I opened up the notebook. This wasn’t my notebook. I mean—it wasn’t my magic notebook or whatever. I had dug around in my pocket to make sure that notebook was still there. It was. This other notebook I found must’ve been some sort of field notebook. I opened it up to see if there was anything in it that might be helpful. Sure enough, this was my field log. It turns out—we were on an expedition.
And I was its leader.
I flipped around the logbook. There was a part where the pages were folded back. That’s where I opened to, figuring they must be bookmarking something important. That’s where I began reading.
