by R. G. Bullet
***
Archy and Vincent showed up at the dig early the next morning to find Professor Sidley in his military-style tent. He was hunched over a trellis table, sketching in a book and taking notes. “We need people who aren’t afraid of doing the grunt work. People who are young and enthusiastic about archaeology.” He looked across at Vincent, who avoided eye contact. “It’s best for you to work together as a team. So I’ve put you under the watchful of eye of Mr. Ward.”
Ward relished ordering them around and stood over Archy, making sure he hammered the pegs into the dry earth in exactly the right places. He told Vincent how to tie the strings, creating grids for the next section of the site to be examined.
Archy found that working on the site was a lot more fun than he had expected. He followed along, learning what he could about the dig. He rose early and spent hours hauling leather pails full of dirt, dumping them in piles where more students sifted the dusty mounds. Lunch break was always welcome but sparse in variety—soup and sandwiches made by the other students. Vincent called them cheese door-stoppers. Around dusk a bell clanged, signaling the end of work and everyone downed their tools. Archy and Vincent bustled along with their group and headed to the sea to swim and wash away the day’s grime.
The week flew by. On the very last day of the holiday, just as Archy was finishing another network of grids, he came across something metal just below the surface. He dug away the dirt from around the object and bent down to blow off the dust.
“I think I’ve found something,” he said. “Look.” He tapped the head of a curved object with his fingernail.
Ward ran across the wooden platform, his arms windmilling to keep balance. “What is it? Don’t touch a thing,” he said, scrambling over to Archy. Ward took a long, hard look and then tapped it gingerly with the handle of his brush. “I don’t believe it! Professor Sidley!” he shouted.
When Professor Sidley joined them, Ward took great pains to explain how he had directed Archy to put the pegs in the right places but Vincent kept interjecting. “Archy found it,” making Ward turn redder with every interruption.
Either way, Professor Sidley was ecstatic and sectioned off the area as if it were a crime scene. He got to work, excavating Archy’s discovery with great care. He asked the senior students to assist and make room.
“What is it?” asked Vincent, leaning over the wooden platform as Richard handled something round, dirty, and dented.
“Looks like your wish has come true, boys,” said Professor Sidley.
“What is it?” Archy asked.
“An old bucket,” Vincent spat.
“It’s not a bucket, you idiot!” Ward fired. “It’s a Praetorian helmet!”
A minor carnival took place after that. Professor Sidley shared some sparkling grape juice and showed Vincent and Archy a full illustration of what the helmet had looked like two thousand years earlier. Archy got to hold the helmet while he studied the renderings Professor Sidley had made. They detailed the helmet as shiny bronze with earflaps and a crest of red feathers running over the center, like a mane.
“We’ve just gone back in time, boys, Professor Sidley said, rubbing his hands together. “Excellent find, Archy, an archaeological jackpot!”
Chapter 6
Smuggling Archy
They returned to the tents, put their belongings back into the van and shortly after started the drive back to Istanbul.
Archy thought that the holiday was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he was the only one who was happy when the woman at the information desk announced that their flight would be delayed for a minimum of three hours.
The departure lounge filled with impatient travelers. All the seats were taken so they arranged themselves on the floor.
“Nightmare,” said Ward, hoisting a heavy pack off his shoulders.
Richard persuaded Vincent and Ward to play a game of cards, but Archy declined, savoring the last moments of his holiday. Soon he would be back in the familiar, dismal surroundings of Winnie’s house. Richard heaped a pocketful of unwanted Turkish coins onto him and he happily wandered off, looking for ways to spend it.
At the end of a row of boring shops selling souvenirs, perfumes, shoes, and handbags he found a small video game lounge. He peered inside to see a girl jumping up and down, battling one of the machines. Archy inched closer and heard a buzzing signal coming from the heart of the machine. The girl kept shouting, “YESS!” More sirens went off and the screen flashed like a strobe. The girl leapt into the air with clenched fists.
“Un-beat-able!” she shouted and spun on the spot as if she knew she had an audience. Her face was flushed and her blue-green eyes shone at him. It took Archy by surprise. “Hello!” she said, tightening a pink camouflage jacket around her waist and flicking her long, golden hair back.
“You look good—I mean—you look good at that,” said Archy, regretting his words the instant they dropped out of his mouth. His face felt prickly and he knew he would be turning red, redder than his so-called tan.
“I should be good at it,” said the girl haughtily. “I know it backwards—I’ve been here an hour and a half.” She tapped her initials into the high score and then turned back to inspect him. She frowned. There was a flash of recognition, and she covered her mouth trying to conceal a smile but it showed around her eyes.
“What…?” Archy asked tentatively, pulling at his worn T-shirt and faded jeans, thinking that it must be his clothes.
The girl could barely contain herself as her giggle turned into a laugh. “I’m sorry—but it’s your haircut—”
Archy raked his brown hair but it flopped hopelessly back into the same bowl shape.
“Rushbury Bowl Head! You have to be Archy,” she said, a trace of laughter still in her voice.
Archy jolted back with surprise. How does she know my name?
“I’m Georgia, Vincent’s sister.”
“That can’t be right. Vincent doesn’t have a—but—I—I thought you were his brother,” Archy sputtered.
“Hmm, do I look like a brother?” she said, planting her hands on her hips and cocking her head. “I’m his twin sister—his twin s-i-s-t-e-r.”
“But Vincent always called you—I mustn’t have been listening properly. He called you—never mind,” he stumbled, realizing his confusion.
“Well,” she said, enjoying Archy squirm. “What name would that be then?”
“Um...” Archy felt as if he’d fallen into a hole and couldn’t even grab at the sides.
At that moment, Mr. Maynard-Bull entered the arcade followed by a reporter in a vest who was scribbling furiously onto a notepad.
“…and these old clunkers use the circuitry from another century compared to our Ambrose S32 chip,” Mr. Maynard-Bull said, patting a machine. He looked at Archy and then winked at Georgia. “And that’s what’ll push our third-quarter numbers well above expectations.”
The reporter pulled out his camera and proceeded to take some photos of Mr. Maynard-Bull and Georgia as they stood next to the machines.
Archy backed against the wall, out of the way, and watched Georgia pose confidently for the shots. In some ways her character was bold like Vincent’s but if she hadn’t introduced herself Archy wouldn’t have guessed they were twins.
After the reporter finished, Georgia arranged to meet up with her father later so she and Archy wandered back out into the busy lounge together. Archy finally plucked up the courage to speak to her again.
“So, why didn’t you come camping with us?” he asked nervously—the pitch of his voice coming out higher than they both expected.
“Have you smelled Ward?” Georgia retorted with a grimace. “He came to stay in the house last summer and Mom spent the whole week lighting incense sticks. She even had them by the pool at one point. Anyway, I had my own room in the hotel. I’m not going to sleep in a tent, am I?”
Archy cleared his throat. “Well, no, s’pose not, but we had a laugh,” he said, r
elieved his voice was normal again.
“Yeah, lovely. I heard about Vincent’s cooking. Do you have any idea what he eats when Mom’s out of the house?”
Archy’s expression went blank. He stepped over to the window, cupped his hands around his face and looked out. He spotted Alturus the rug seller in the back of a car parked outside, sitting between two men in dark suits. One of them was very slight and looked like he had jaundice and the other was so big his head was crammed up against the roof.
Archy’s heart beat faster with every breath. “It’s him, that’s the guy who swindled me.”
Georgia followed his gaze. “Swindled for what?”
“A rug,” he whispered.
“Did you buy a rug from one of those beach sellers? No one buys those!” she said, biting her bottom lip to suppress a laugh. “Well, let’s go and get your money back,” she said, giving him a gentle push. “You’re not scared, are you?”
Archy was scared, but knowing that Georgia was watching him, he made his way out to the car and rapped loudly against the window with a coin.
“Excuse me, please, but I’d like my money back!” he said nervously, looking at Alturus.
“Oh my... so strong!” Georgia goaded from behind him.
Alturus’s face turned slowly. His eyes were sunken and his cheek bore an ugly gash. His swollen hands lay handcuffed on his lap. The massive man wound down the window, jutted his huge head out and fixed Archy with an icy stare.
“Go away! Or I crack your head!”
Archy and Georgia flinched at the sight of the man, but Archy now felt strong about proving his point and getting his money back. He peered around the big head and shouted at Alturus.
“You! Alturus or whatever your name is, give me back my money. You’re nothing but a thief!”
Sheer horror flashed on Alturus’s face. His brown eyes widened and he shook his head quickly from side to side. Archy sensed the danger. The car bounced and lifted. The giant was moving.
“RUUNNN, Eenglish !” Alturus shouted. “Run!”
The giant slammed his elbow into Alturus’s face, causing Alturus to slump forward with a groan.
Archy was dazed at how quickly the giant moved. As the man’s other foot stepped onto the curb, Georgia stamped on it with her pink military-style boots.
“Penalty!” she shouted, backing away.
It took everyone by surprise.
The giant stopped briefly and his eye flickered at her, his face full of smoldering menace. It stalled him just long enough for Archy to grab Georgia’s hand and run back into the terminal. They kept low, jumping bags and dodging the slow-moving luggage trolleys and found their way back to Vincent and the others and dove right into the middle of the group.
“What on earth!” said Richard.
“What’s happening?” said Vincent. “Where’d you meet George?”
“I can’t explain now,” Archy gasped back at them. “Just cover us.”
“What?”
“Hide us now—it’s serious,” hissed Georgia.
Vincent yanked clothes from his and Ward’s backpacks, covering Archy and Georgia with everything from smelly T-shirts to badly stained handkerchiefs. Richard spread his coat out on top of the mound. He then spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “You two want to tell me what’s going on?”
Georgia’s muffled voice came through the mound. “Explain in a minute. Tell me if there’s a huge bloated-looking guy out there. He’s massive—bigger than a tool shed.”
Richard took a very slow and subtle look around the airport’s lounge. “I don’t see anyone like that.”
“Me, neither,” said Vincent.
“Don’t all look,” said Georgia, peering between some dirty shirts. Just then the giant came into view. There was a hush and dozens of people stared as he barged his way between an elderly couple.
“Look at the size of that guy!” Ward blurted. “What did you do to him?”
“Shh!” Georgia hissed.
Archy peeked out from the clothes and watched the giant cast his gaze over the tourists, his freakish eyes sweeping past him and the group. Archy watched him cross the floor and enter the men’s room. Everyone outside could hear a loud crash and someone yelling. Seconds passed. Three airport security guards ran in, and promptly backed out as the giant exited.
“Lanet!” yelled the giant, elbowing passed them and disappearing into a stunned crowd.
Georgia and Archy suffered the stench of dirty laundry for another twenty minutes until Richard assured them it was safe. Georgia leapt up first from the mound yanking a handkerchief off her shoulder, “Bleeergh!”
Archy, still panicking, put on Ward’s stinky sweater and pulled-down baseball cap for a makeshift disguise, and Georgia followed his lead, taking a cap from Richard’s luggage and donning his jacket. It was so baggy the sleeves were hanging by her knees and she had to roll up them up to see her own hands. When the flight was called the five of them then made their way swiftly through the gate and onto the plane.
Shortly after takeoff, Georgia walked back from first class. She stood in the aisle with her hands on her hips, looking expectantly at Archy and Vincent.
“Who was he, Archy?” she asked.
Richard and Ward were in the row ahead of Archy and Vincent. Richard peered between the seats and Ward knelt, looking over the back.
Archy did his best to clarify things to them all, but he didn’t know much himself. The incident seemed so bizarre. He thought they might think he was nuts if he told them he saw Alturus vanish in front of him. Instead he told them what Alturus had said, that the rug was very old. He added that it was probably valuable and that the big guy was obviously after it. And he kept it at that.
“All that hassle for a flippin’ rug,” said Vincent, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Can you imagine if you’d gotten something decent?”
This triggered a flurry of questions and remarks about the giant. It unnerved Archy, especially when they had fun taking turns at guessing his profession.
“I’ll bet he’s Security, and it’s stolen,” Vincent offered.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Richard gravely. “He could be from one of those auction houses, but he looks like a mobster. Either that or he’s KGB or FBI or CIA.”
“Or worse still, from the BBC,” Ward chipped in.
Georgia slapped Ward’s arm. “You’re so stupid! Listen, Archy, the thing to do is sell it quickly. Dad might buy it.”
“Do you think so?” asked Archy.
“Sure, Georgia can get Dad to do anything.” Vincent added bitterly.
“Don’t start, you two,” said Richard.
The conversation remained lively for another few minutes, during which time Archy listened to a host of grim possibilities about the giant man in the airport. Finally the lights dimmed and the little screens on the seat backs flickered on to start the film.
Georgia squeezed past Archy into the center seat, knocking Vincent’s headphone out of his hand, and as he bent down, she grabbed hold of his ear. “Vincent, by the way, what’s my name?” she said, starting to twist it. “Geooorg…”
Vincent yelped. “AARRRGH!”
“That’s right,” said Georgia with satisfaction. “You just need to join it a bit quicker.”
“Georgia, GEORGIA. Okay?”
“Perfect!” she said, letting go with a haughty grin.
“Georgia, thanks for helping me back at the airport,” said Archy, interrupting them. “I keep thinking what would have happened if that guy had gotten closer.”
“It was fun!” She gave a dismissive flick of her hand. “Anyway I’m sure you’d do the same. He was monstrous though, wasn’t he?”
Archy nodded. “Monster is right. Luckily I won’t ever see him again.”
Georgia reached up to adjust the airflow to maximum, sniffing the air. “Nice sweater,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“Oh!” said Archy, taking off Ward’s jumper and stuffing it under his
seat.
His mind raced with no direction and no answers. He looked to each side to see Georgia and Vincent’s silhouetted, silvery faces laughing at the film. Archy put on the headphones but the volume was off. He didn’t really notice. He felt a strange mixture of emotions and for the thousandth time wondered: Did Alturus really vanish? No, it was a trick, that’s all, he reasoned. But then there were other voices in his head they were panicky, shrill, and full of fear. Why was that big bloke chasing me? What happened to Alturus?
Back in the airport in London, Archy’s energy drained with the familiarity of the people around him as they jostled grim-faced. Now he was back on the ground and the trip was over. He watched Richard and Vincent drag their luggage off the carousel when Ward began tugging on his sleeve. “Hey, that big guy who was in the airport chasing you in Istanbul—I got it now—He’s Mafia!”
Archy glanced over to see the giant crashing down the stairway, like a bear on its hind legs. A thousand sirens began to wail in his head as he wriggled, hiding between the waiting passengers.
“But he wasn’t on the plane,” Ward continued, not noticing Archy now crawling on the floor, “or I would’ve seen him.”
“Shhhhh!” hissed Archy, gripping Ward’s trouser leg.
The passengers around them were loading their luggage onto trolleys and moving off. Archy watched through a widening gap as the giant hunched under a telephone kiosk with one arm over the top, tapping anxiously on its roof. When he hung up, he walked slowly in their direction, scanning the people from left- to-right. A thinner-looking man followed closely behind.
Richard swung his luggage trolley around. “You’d better get on this thing. I’ll cover you with our stuff. Quick!”
Archy lay on the luggage trolley and stretched out. Vincent lowered an oversized bag onto his stomach, threw a coat over his feet, then piled the other stuff on top. Richard strained the trolley around just as the giant arrived, towering behind them.
“All right then, I’ll see you outside,” Richard said rather stiffly, shoving off.
