Night at the Museum

by Michael Anthony Steele

  Merenkahre grinned. “You are? I love Jews!”

  Ahkmenrah rubbed his temples. “Here we go.”

  “We owned forty thousand of them!” said his father.

  Shepseheret beamed. “Such nice people.”

  “Father, that’s not okay anymore,” said Ahkmrenrah. “Owning people.”

  “What?” asked his father. “They were very happy. Always singing, with the candles.”

  “They weren’t happy,” Larry corrected. “They left. They actually walked through the Red Sea just to get out of there. We have dinner once a year and talk about it.” He shook his head. “Listen, the tablet ... there’s something wrong with it.” Larry handed the tablet to Merenkahre.

  The older pharaoh ran a hand over the green stain. He flipped some of the tiles, examining them closely. “It’s losing its power.” He shook his head. “I warned them not to move it. I specifically said, The End Will Come! How hard is that?”

  “You have to help me fix it,” said Larry.

  Merenkahre raised an eyebrow. “To do that, I would have to divulge the secret of the tablet.”

  Larry nodded. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

  The older pharaoh stared at the tablet in his hands. His brow furrowed.

  “Father! Why do you insist on keeping this to yourself?” asked Ahkmenrah.

  “The secret was to be passed down to you at the right time,” Merenkahre explained.

  “Well, now seems like a good time,” said Ahkmenrah. “Father, please. I will always be your son, but I am also Pharaoh. I need to know. And I need to know now.”

  Merenkahre sighed. He held the tablet and leaned back on one of the sarcophagi. “You were born at midnight,” he explained. “I was Pharaoh, and I had seen wonders most men only dream of. But when I first gazed upon you ... I knew I could never bear to say goodbye.” He exchanged a smile with his wife. “I commanded the high priest to prepare a gift for you ... using all we had learned from the mysteries of the Afterlife.”

  Merenkahre held up the tablet with both hands. “It was forged in the temple of Khonsu, God of the Moon and watcher over nighttime travelers ... the Tablet of Ahkmenrah. The moon god bestowed his power upon the tablet. As long as it bathed in his light, our family could be together forever. Not even Death could part us.” He ran his fingers over the green stain once more. “It has been away from Khonsu’s light for far too long.”

  Just then, the tablet glowed green. Larry’s friends staggered. Even the older Egyptians held their sides in pain.

  Shepseheret’s eyes widened. “My son!”

  Ahkmenrah’s face began to whither and crack. He was returning to his mummified form.

  Merenkahre held out the tablet to Larry. “It needs moonlight. Let it be replenished with the power of Khonsu.” He looked at his wife and son. “Otherwise we will all be dead by sunrise, never to breathe life again.”

  Larry took the tablet and ran toward the exit. “Nick, let’s go.” The boy followed and they sprinted through the Egyptian wing.

  As they ran, something caught Larry’s eye. He halted and turned back to the entrance of a large chamber. Several sarcophagi were on display, but they weren’t what Larry had noticed. In the center of the round chamber, a single shaft of moonlight pierced the darkness. Larry and Nick entered and came to a stop in the center of the bright shaft.

  Larry held up the tablet. Nothing happened. The moonlight washed over the golden artifact but the green stain remained. Then Larry noticed that several of the spinning tiles were askew. He quickly turned them back into place. He was about to spin the last one when something very cold and sharp touched his throat. Larry froze.

  “I told you our paths would cross again,” said a familiar voice. Larry cut his eyes to see Lancelot in the shadows. His long sword, however, pierced the moonlight and its tip rested on Larry’s neck. “The tablet, please,” said the knight.

  Larry held his breath. “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, really?” asked the knight. The sword gleamed in the moonlight as it moved from Larry’s throat to Nick’s. “How about now?”

  CHAPTER 8

  Larry’s job as a night guard was to protect the museum exhibits. To protect his friends. Restoring the tablet would restore his friends. His job would be complete. His mission would be a success. Larry’s job as a father was to protect his son. He cringed at the sight of the sharp blade so close to Nick’s throat. He knew that he had no choice. He handed the tablet to Lancelot.

  The knight took the tablet with one hand but kept his sword trained on Nick. “King Arthur wasted years searching for the Holy Grail,” Lancelot explained. “He was looking for a cup! And to think, it was a tablet all along. My quest is complete. I ride for Camelot tonight!”

  “You have no idea what you’re doing,” Larry explained. “The tablet is dying,” Larry pointed to the crooked tile. “You have to turn that middle piece right there.”

  Lancelot gave him a suspicious look. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Larry nodded. “That’s why I said it.”

  Lancelot rolled his eyes. “Sorry. It’s not my first quest.”

  The knight shoved Nick aside and slammed the butt of his sword into Larry’s gut. Larry doubled over in pain as the knight sheathed his sword and disappeared down the dark corridor.

  “Dad!” yelled Nick.

  Larry held his stomach, trying to catch his breath. “Get the others! We can’t let him leave the museum!”

  Nick ran back the way they had come, going after their friends. Trying to ignore the pain in his stomach, Larry lurched forward giving chase to the knight. Larry slowly built up speed as he followed the armored man’s heavy footfalls. He chased Lancelot out of the Egyptian wing and down a main hallway. Living exhibits of all kinds scrambled out of the way as the foot chase wound through the museum halls.

  Lancelot led Larry through gallery after gallery, trying to lose the night guard. Luckily, Larry had plenty of experience chasing living exhibits through museums. And honestly, keeping up with an armored knight was easier than keeping up with a monkey with a stolen key ring.

  Larry pursued Lancelot into a gallery that was devoid of living exhibits. A quick glance told Larry that they were in an area dedicated to M.C. Escher. The artist was famous for his work depicting environments that defied the laws of gravity and physics. Around him the framed prints were alive with fish turning into ducks, men climbing never-ending stairs, and a sketch of a hand sketching a hand that was sketching the same hand.

  Lancelot was almost on the other side of the gallery when the exit door flew open. Teddy stepped through, holding the largest rifle Larry had ever seen.

  “Speak softly and carry a big stick,” announced Teddy. He smiled down at his rifle. “1895 .375 H&H Magnum Elephant Gun. Turns out they have a rather nice collection here.”

  Lancelot slid to a stop as Teddy aimed the rifle at the man’s armored chest. Larry slowed his run, trying to catch his breath before getting closer to the rogue knight. The mad chase was finally over. Teddy had Lancelot covered.

  “Lawrence, we may have a problem,” Teddy said nervously. He glanced at his gloved hands holding the rifle. Both of Teddy’s hands had gone stiff. They had turned back to wax. The elephant gun fell out of his grasp and clattered to the floor.

  Lancelot slowly unsheathed his sword, “I have a saying, too. Speak loudly and carry a bigger stick.” He stepped toward Teddy, raising his blade, ready to strike.

  Larry ran forward and sprung at the knight. He tackled Lancelot around the waist and hurled him away from Teddy. The two flew toward a large Escher print on the wall. Instead of slamming against the artwork, the two flew into it. Larry felt the same feeling he felt when he had entered a giant photograph at the Smithsonian. However, this time, as they crossed the threshold, his stomach lurched as he felt gravity pull at him from different directions.

  At first, everything seemed normal. That is, normal for flying into a print brou
ght to life by a magic tablet. Larry and Lancelot tumbled onto a stairway landing. Then the knight raised a boot and kicked Larry over the side. Instead of falling down, over the railing, he flew off to the side and stuck to a nearby wall. Larry stood on the wall and looked over to see Lancelot crouched on the landing, which was now sideways to Larry.

  The vast space was crisscrossed with staircases, archways, and catwalks. Some were right-side up, some upside down, and others stretched sideways. They all met each other in the impossible ways the artist was famous for creating. Faceless figures easily marched along the insane steps and catwalks. The figures didn’t react to the new arrivals. They kept marching along as if in a trance.

  While Lancelot slowly got to his feet, Larry looked around for a way to cross over to the knight. Luckily, Larry didn’t have to hurry. Lancelot was no sooner on his feet when Teddy flew into the environment. The stiff-armed president crashed into the knight, sending him tumbling back to the ground. As the knight pushed Teddy off him, the tablet slipped from his grasp. It went over the landing and tumbled down, out of sight.

  Larry peered into the darkness, trying to see where the tablet went. Hearing a clank, Larry looked up to see the tablet enter from the opposite direction. It bounced down a staircase high above them. It came to rest on the lip of a step.

  Lancelot raced up a set of stairs while Larry and Teddy looked for a way to cut him off.

  Larry pointed to another set of stairs near Teddy. “You go that way, I’ll go this way.” Larry gestured at a thin catwalk. “I guess.”

  “This whole place is cattywampus!” said Teddy.

  Lancelot was almost at the tablet when one of the faceless figures marched down and kicked it aside. The tablet flew off the side of the stairs, made a sharp right turn, and then clanked down the steps leading down a nearby wall. The knight roared with frustration and shoved the figure away from him.

  Teddy ran up the sideways stairs, two steps from the tablet. “Got it!” shouted Teddy.

  “Not quite,” said Lancelot. The knight plunged feet-first off the landing. He took the same hard right turn as the tablet. His boots rammed into Teddy’s chest, knocking the former president off the steps. Teddy hooked his stiff arms on the lip of the stairs and dangled as the knight flew out of sight.

  To Larry, all of this looked as if it happened above him. The steps were directly overhead as he ran up matching stairs below. Instead of falling down, Teddy dangled straight up.

  Larry took a deep breath and jumped up. He felt the gravity of the steps above him and he rolled in midair. Larry came crashing down on the steps where Teddy was hanging. Larry grabbed the tablet with one hand and Teddy’s arm with the other. He strained to pull his friend to safety.

  The blade of a dagger entered Larry’s field of vision. “The tablet. Now,” ordered Lancelot. The knight stood on the wall next to him. His dagger pointed at Larry’s neck.

  “Let me go, Lawrence,” Teddy said calmly.

  “I’m not going to let you go!” said Larry.

  “I shan’t ask you a third time, Fool,” said the knight. He inched the tip of the blade closer to Larry’s throat. “Give me the tablet.”

  Larry snarled. He was getting tired of blades being pointed at his neck.

  Teddy smiled. “It’s all right, Lawrence. Let go.”

  Larry gripped Teddy’s wrist tighter. He could feel the stiff gloved hand sliding under his fingers. “No!”

  Just before Teddy slipped free, the former president gave Larry a wink. “See you on the other side.” Teddy fell from his grasp and plummeted into the darkness below.

  “Teddy!” Larry shouted after him. He couldn’t believe it. He had lost his friend.

  Larry stood and faced his perpendicular foe. Reluctantly, he handed Lancelot the tablet. The knight grinned triumphantly.

  Suddenly, Teddy Roosevelt, former Rough Rider and twenty-sixth president of the United States, flew in sideways. He slammed into Lancelot, sending the knight and the tablet flying. Larry caught Teddy’s arm as he tumbled to a stop.

  “Thought I lost you there, TR,” said Larry.

  Teddy smiled. “Me, too. I had no idea that would work.”

  As Larry helped Teddy to his feet, he glanced over the edge of the stairs. His heart sank as he saw Lancelot scoop up the tablet and head toward the front of the print—the portal back to the museum. The knight dove through the opening and into the Escher gallery. He was full-sized once again and running away.

  Octavius was truly amazed at the size of this museum. He, Jedediah, and Dexter had traveled its many corridors and still hadn’t seen any sign of their friends. As expected, they had seen many wondrous creatures during their travels. Even now, they spotted a knight in gleaming armor running toward them with the golden Tablet of Ahkmenrah tucked under one arm. Octavius stopped in his tracks and drew his sword. What was that knight doing with their tablet?

  Jedediah must have seen it, too. He halted and drew his six shooters. Dexter chirped angrily.

  “Hold it right there, pardner!” Jedediah ordered.

  The knight came to a stop in front of them. He glanced around, looking for the source of their voices. Finally, his eyes fell on the trio below. His brow furrowed as he gazed down at them.

  “I don’t know who you are,” Jed continued. He waved one of his guns at the tablet. “But I’m pretty sure that there magic tablet don’t belong to you.”

  Octavius aimed his sword at the knight. “You think you can come in here with your spectacularly good looks ...” He gestured to the man’s sword. “And your absolutely enormous sword, and just start stealing things?”

  Dexter crossed his arms and snarled up at the man.

  The knight didn’t reply. Instead, he simply gave them a smile and casually stepped over them. The three turned and watched him continue running down the hall.

  Octavius shrugged. “Apparently he was correct in that assumption.”

  Jedediah holstered his pistols and threw his hat on the ground. “Now that ain’t right! You gotta at least engage in some way!” He turned to Octavius. “And he didn’t even pretend to jump.”

  Octavius sheathed his sword and waved a fist at the retreating knight. “You’ll rue the night you disrespected us, you beautiful man!”

  More footsteps thundered behind them. Octavius turned to see Larry Daley and President Roosevelt running down the corridor. They stopped when they spotted the three on the floor.

  “Good to see you guys,” said Larry. “Oct, I think this belongs to you.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny piece of cloth. He bent down and offered it to Octavius. It was his scarlet cape. The roman commander affixed it to his armor.

  “We tried, Gigantor,” said Jed. “He ain’t seen the last of us, that flaxen-maned scoundrel!”

  More footsteps. The rest of their group ran up from an adjoining gallery. An older Egyptian couple was with them. Octavius guessed that they were Ahkmenrah’s parents.

  “I don’t understand,” said Teddy as he caught his breath. “Why is Lancelot staying strong while we get weaker?”

  “Tonight’s his first night,” explained Ahkmenrah’s father. “Newborns are stronger. But it matters not. Unless we succeed, he too will be dead come the dawn.”

  “All right, we don’t have much time,” said Larry. “We have to cover the exits.” He pointed to the Egyptian couple. “You take Egypt, in case he comes back through there. Nicky, Atilla, Dex ... cover India. Teddy, you and the others scout Mesopotamia.” Larry jutted a thumb at himself. “I’ve got the main entrance.”

  Nick reached down and gently picked up Jed and Octavius. He placed them into his vest pocket and they were soon racing down the corridors, after the scoundrel.

  Larry weaved past living exhibits as he made his way to the museum’s main entrance. When he got there, he felt like he had been punched in the stomach ... again. The main doors were wide open and Lancelot was already outside. The knight sat atop a large armored horse. The might
y steed whinnied as it reared its front hooves into the air. Larry could spot the tablet poking out of a pouch on the saddle. The knight locked eyes with Larry and smiled. The horse returned to the ground and Lancelot kicked at its sides with both heels. The stallion galloped across the courtyard and into the night.

  Larry took off after him. He was no more than ten feet into the courtyard when someone blocked his path. It was Tilly, the British Museum’s night guard. She had Laaa by one arm. The Neanderthal’s hairy wrists were bound in front of him. They were tied together with a thick plastic tie. The caveman wore a sad expression of defeat.

  “I knew you smelled a bit off,” said Tilly.

  Larry pointed over his shoulder. “You didn’t just see a knight in shining armor go riding through here a second ago?”

  “Don’t try to distract me with your magical fantasy.” Tilly nudged Laaa. “I found your filthy twin in the freight room.”

  “He’s not my twin,” said Larry. “I don’t look anything like him.”

  “What are you talking about?” She looked from Larry to Laaa and then back to Larry. “You look exactly the same. That’s how you fooled me. Doubles.”

  Larry didn’t have time to argue. Lancelot was getting away, going who knows where. “I have to go.”

  Larry tried to edge around her but she brought up her hammer in a flash. “Whoops! You didn’t see that coming, did you?” She wiggled the hammer. “Set up ... pay off, mate! So what’s it gonna be? Heads?” She twisted the hammer around. “Or claws?”

  Larry looked at the hammer, then back at Tilly. Maybe he could make a break for it.

  “Weighing your odds?” asked Tilly. “Yeah ... brave gambit, but take care. Maybe I’m quicker than my frame suggests. Maybe inside this figure lives a jackrabbit.” She waved the hammer. “You might get away. But if you do ...” She moved the hammer toward Laaa. “Your hideous doppelganger will pay the price.”