The Time-Traveling Fashionista and Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile

by Bianca Turetsky

  Louise took her place against the wall with the other servants as the apparently famous Roman general (although Louise had no idea who he was) entered the dining room proceeded by several guards in brick red togas. He was deeply tan, muscular like an athlete, with thick brown wavy hair. Actually, he was pretty cute, Louise admitted to herself. He wore polished bronze armor with a falcon embossed on the breastplate under a heavy burgundy cape draped across his broad shoulders. His brown leather boots were laced up to his knees, beneath a pleated kilt. The general was directed to sit at one end of the long banquet table, which had been covered in colorful silk tablecloths. Cleopatra’s throne stood at the other.

  The thumping rhythm of beating drums resonated throughout the hall, and the tall, heavy wooden doors were flung open as Cleopatra made her grand entrance into the dining room, followed by a troop of scantily clad dancers, gymnasts, and fire throwers. Louise had never seen the queen look so powerful and luminous. She had decided on a long, sleeveless silver shift dress in the traditional Egyptian style, accented with metallic threads and intricate beadwork. The outfit was so tight around her legs that she had to walk with small, deliberate steps. It was like the first bandage dress, Louise thought, and Hervé Léger may have owed a small debt to the queen. And as if the gorgeous gown wasn’t enough, an elaborate headdress with three golden snakes intertwined at the crown adorned Cleopatra’s head. Pearls had been woven into her dark wig and looked like little flecks of light. Louise smiled at the effect proudly. She had done a pretty good job on that one. A gold snake bracelet wrapped its way around the queen’s thick upper arm, two gigantic pearl teardrop earrings hung from her ears, and, Louise suddenly noticed with a huge wave of relief, she was wearing the missing pearl necklace Louise had been so frantically looking for!

  “She has bet the general that she could host the most expensive dinner party in the world,” whispered the handmaiden next to Louise, who was holding a single golden spoon. Veiled performers twirled around the banquet hall in colorful figure eights.

  “I know. I bought the vegetables, but there’s not even any food on the table,” Louise said, confused, looking down at the empty gold plates. And why does she get the job of spoon holder? she thought grumpily, adjusting the heavy pitcher in her sweaty hands so she wouldn’t drop it again.

  “Just wait,” the girl responded. “Quiet, the dinner is about to begin.”

  “I see you are one for clever games. What shall we wager?” the Roman asked confidently once the music subsided and the acrobats with their flaming torches had all pirouetted out of the hall.

  “Whatever you please,” Cleopatra said sweetly. “But let us make it worth your while. The Eastern Provinces perhaps?”

  He chuckled. “As you wish. Bring on the first course. You know I can never refuse a beautiful woman,” he said flirtatiously. “Particularly one who claims she can consume the wealth of an entire nation in one supper.” Even though Cleopatra wasn’t typically beautiful, she definitely was confident and seemed to have a charmed effect on powerful men, or at least this particular one.

  The kitchen staff paraded into the room in an organized procession and brought forth a rather unimpressive, small whole roast fish with its beady eyeballs still attached. A few plates of sad-looking wilted squash and onions from Louise’s purchases were the side dishes, and Louise watched as everything was placed on the table in front of the general. The Roman guest looked on smiling, as though he had already won. “Is this the best Egypt has to offer? You must come to Rome, and we can show you what a feast really is.”

  “Oh, I am sure you have extravagant dinners in Rome, but unfortunately I am rather busy right now dealing with a grain situation, and traveling does not seem possible at present.”

  “Perhaps another time, then,” he replied with a wink.

  “Perhaps.” Cleopatra did not seem impressed. “But if this is not up to your Roman standards, we do have one additional course.” Cleopatra nodded to a servant wearing a purple sarong and standing at attention. The servant walked over with two large golden goblets and placed one in front of the queen and one directly in front of the general. The handmaiden next to Louise walked over to the table as well and took her place behind the queen. Louise hoped, for the girl’s sake, that she wasn’t the one to have inherited Livia’s old job.

  The confused guest sniffed the contents of the goblet disdainfully. “Vinegar? Surely the wealthiest woman in the world can do better than that.”

  “Oh, surely she can.” Cleopatra smiled knowingly and reached up to her neck as if to unclasp her necklace. Louise gulped nervously. That pearl was her only chance of getting out of here. What was Cleopatra planning on doing with it? The queen paused for a moment, as though she were a chess player considering her next move, and then took off her left earring instead, a creamy pearl so large the weight of it stretched out her elongated earlobe. It seemed as though the entire room took in a collective breath, tense with anticipation. Without hesitating, Cleopatra dropped the earring into the golden goblet of vinegar. The drink began to hiss and spit as though she had thrown an Alka-Seltzer tablet into a glass of water as Louise’s grandpa used to do.

  The Roman looked on in wide-eyed shock as Cleopatra stirred the bubbly liquid around with the long, golden teaspoon handed to her by the handmaiden Louise was talking with before. Cleopatra nonchalantly picked up the cup, as though she were merely stirring sugar into her tea. “We did say the Eastern Provinces, did we not?” she asked, smiling at her now clearly uncomfortable dinner companion.

  His previously flirtatious eyes turned cloudy with anger as the realization that he had been outsmarted quickly dawned on him. Cleopatra had just made the most expensive cocktail ever. When the bubbling finally subsided, she raised the cup to her ochre-stained lips and took a delicate sip.

  “A bit rich for my palate,” Cleopatra said with a sigh. “You do know how much these pearls are worth, do you not? For the other I could probably buy the Parthenon or a small nation.” He nodded mutely. She gulped down the rest of the drink while looking him directly in the eye, savoring her victory. “Now, shall we eat?”

  Another army of waiters marched into the dining room from the arched doorway, this time carrying impressive platters of crackling boar, a towering arrangement of oysters, and a whole cooked flamingo!

  “I’m not hungry anymore,” the Roman general declared, abruptly standing and nearly knocking his heavy claw-foot chair over as he furiously stormed out of the room with his befuddled security detail trailing behind him.

  Cleopatra turned toward Louise. “Oh, well,” she muttered. “I suppose this will be a short visit. But wasn’t that great fun, Charmian?”

  Louise smiled and nodded, totally impressed by the queen’s boldness and, most important, relieved to see the necklace still securely clasped around Cleopatra’s neck, the pearl not dissolved. She still had a chance of making it home, and she couldn’t wait to tell her mom that vinegar, Mrs. Lambert’s favorite condiment to drench all of their food in, actually did have some magical properties after all!

  “Wake up,” a husky voice whispered urgently into the darkness.

  Louise had finally fallen asleep after a long stare-off with the taxidermic leopard she was lying on. She had felt much more relaxed knowing that the magic necklace was still within her reach.

  A woman in a hooded wool cloak abruptly shook her awake. “What’s going on?” Louise asked, alarmed and still half asleep in a groggy dream world. Were they in danger? She rubbed her eyes and through the darkness realized that it was actually Cleopatra standing over her and looking rather ordinary without any makeup or jewels on.

  “Let’s go into the town in disguise. They will never know it is me,” she said, looking more like a mischievous teenager than a serious queen. Louise supposed in a way she was both.

  “Awesome!” Louise exclaimed, feeling for the first time as if they could almost be friends and take a break from this queen-servant dynamic they had going on. She jumped
off her pelt and wrapped herself in the itchy beige cloak that Cleopatra held out for her.

  “Awesome?” Cleopatra repeated, confused. Louise had to remember to take that word out of her vocabulary for good.

  “You must not forget your wig,” Cleopatra chastised, handing her Charmian’s braided hairpiece. Louise had actually kind of gotten used to her new closely cropped haircut. It was pretty liberating to not have to worry about how to flatten down and tame her natural frizz every second of the day.

  “I thought we could go down to the kitchen,” the queen said conspiratorially, “and gather some eggs to bring with us…”

  Wow, we’re going to egg people’s houses? It was like mischief night in the suburbs. Her mother would kill her if she found out what she was up to. For so many reasons!

  “… and then we can leave them by the townspeople’s doorsteps, so when they wake up they will find the eggs and it will be like a gift from the gods, an offering from Isis during this difficult time.”

  Louise smiled, feeling a tad guilty that she thought they would throw the eggs, not leave breakfast. “That sounds like a great idea. Let’s go!” But before they had even left the room, they were interrupted by a commotion at the bedroom door. A sweaty messenger wearing a linen loincloth and worn leather sandals was ushered in by two burly watchmen.

  “Your Highness, I am sorry to interrupt you so late in the evening, but I have just received word that Arsinoe and her tutor have fled the palace,” the flustered boy said. “She is angling to be declared queen by the people,” he continued, averting his eyes. At that news, the guards escorting the messenger grabbed his arms so he couldn’t escape.

  Cleopatra froze, clearly shocked by this surprising turn of events, and a nervous electricity suddenly filled the air. Louise was reminded of that saying “don’t shoot the messenger” and wondered if it originated during ancient times. “Ambitious little child,” Cleopatra finally replied with a slightly admiring smile on her lips. “But that will not do.” Her brown eyes had turned cold and dangerous, as if Louise were looking at a totally different person from the giddy teenage girl who just a few minutes ago wanted to sneak into the town wearing a disguise. “Do you have other news?” she asked the now visibly trembling boy, who shook his head no. “Then you are dismissed,” she ordered as the guardsmen let go of his arms and the terrified messenger darted out the doorway. “Everyone may go!” she yelled, and the three-hundred-pound Mack truck-size men slunk out behind him like scolded schoolchildren.

  Cleopatra began furiously pacing the room, thinking out loud and calculating her next move. “Isis, please show me the path. Do I warn Ptolemy?”

  Louise realized that now was her chance to warn Cleopatra about what she had overheard. After seeing the icy-cold reception the last messenger with bad news had received, Louise was a little hesitant to put herself in that situation, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t know if she had the power to change history, but she had to at least give it a try.

  “Your Highness,” Louise began, clearing her throat. Cleopatra stopped pacing and turned toward Louise as though she had forgotten she was even in the room. “Your Highness,” Louise repeated with a little more confidence. “Do not trust Ptolemy. You were right about him. It’s not safe here for you. I overheard him talking with his advisers. Even your tutor Pothinus is in on it,” Louise rushed, trying to get everything out. “He doesn’t want to share anything. He will never be happy to just be co-ruler.”

  “How will he lead?” she scoffed. “Ptolemy is a selfish child. He is no ruler. He cannot even speak to the people directly as he has not bothered to learn their language. But Arsinoe?”

  “Well, from the way that she plays with her toys, I am pretty sure she’d like to be finished with both of you,” Louise confided.

  “She is but a child.”

  “I know, but you have to be careful. I swear you were right about them. You are the only one who can lead your people,” Louise pleaded.

  “When did you learn of this?” Cleopatra asked suspiciously. “Why have you not informed me of this earlier? I can have you killed for conspiracy, you know. I thought I could trust you, Charmian.”

  Louise gulped. This was not exactly turning out as she had planned. Just then, the angry queen put her finger to her lips and cocked her head like a jungle cat listening for a predator in the distance.

  “Did you hear that?” Cleopatra whispered, rushing to the balcony door.

  “Hear what?” Louise asked, and then she did. It was a low rumble coming from outside. It was a sound Louise was now all too familiar with, like the sound of a thousand hungry French peasants storming Versailles. It was the sound of an angry mob.

  Louise followed Cleopatra to the balcony, and they peeked through the long white curtains to discover that a swarm of people had begun to gather outside the palace gates. They were holding torches and bricks, and they were shouting and shaking the tall gold bars that surrounded the royal estate. News of Arsinoe’s escape must have gotten out. The uprising had begun. Perhaps Louise was too late in delivering the news after all.

  Surveying the situation, Cleopatra snapped to attention like a general. “Charmian, prepare my trunks at once. We must leave immediately through the rear gates. There is no time to spare. We will go under the cover of darkness to Syria, where I can gain the support of the Egyptian people. They will follow me, I have no doubt. Once I gain their loyalty, I will come back and reclaim my throne. You must help me pack. I will not be triumphed over!”

  Louise nodded in awe of how quickly and confidently the queen was able to make such important choices. She spent more time just figuring out what outfit to wear to school in the morning! Louise had some decisions of her own that needed to be made. The sound of the mob outside was a low constant thrum; and she knew that if she went with Cleopatra to Syria, there was a good chance she would never come back to Egypt, let alone her real life. The glow of flames from the torches outside cast angry shadows around the room.

  She knew that it was definitely time to find the necklace and head back to Connecticut. Or Hollywood. Or anywhere, really. Anywhere had to be safer than ancient Alexandria on the eve of a revolt.

  Louise rushed into Cleopatra’s closet to begin organizing her trunks and to try to retrieve the pearl necklace to make her own eleventh-hour escape. She shouldn’t have been shocked to discover Marla and Glenda had finally decided to pop up, but she was, and a startled Louise let out a slight squeal of surprise upon seeing them dressed for the times and raiding Cleopatra’s personal wardrobe.

  Marla was stuffed into a tight yellow Egyptian sheath dress like an Italian sausage, her thick ankles tautly laced into matching lemon yellow gladiator sandals. The dress was so tight, Louise could see her outie belly button protruding from her midsection like a turkey thermometer.

  “Why do I always end up in these form-fitting numbers, Glenda? To painfully remind me that I’ve gained a few pounds over the years?” she asked her cohort with a grimace.

  Glenda, wearing a flowing Roman-style kelly green toga dress that complemented her flaming red hair, was devouring a pile of figs dripping with honey off a gold platter. “Now, we’ve never been here before, but what a fabulous adventure! Have you tried these figs? Heaven-sent!” she exclaimed, the stack of gold and silver bangles on her arm clattering with every bite. Both women were wearing red matte lipstick and heavy eye makeup, thick black liner and cobalt blue shadow, extending up to their penciled-in eyebrows, which made them look like Egyptian cartoon characters.

  “Oh, I suppose one won’t hurt.” Marla helped herself to a plump fig, and Louise swore she heard the sound of the seams on her dress ripping one by one with each bite.

  “Jesus,” Louise muttered under her breath. “How can you eat at a time like this? Please help me out here!”

  “Nope, Jesus hasn’t been born yet. Try not to give yourself away, my dear,” Marla tsked.

  “Yes, they are very quick to murder in these times.
No reasons needed. This was a bloodthirsty society, as you may have noticed by all the people dropping dead around here. And that ghastly science experiment with the poisonous snake… We would never have sent you to such a dangerous time. You do know how to get yourself into a jam, my dear.”

  “Ooh, fig jam would be mahvelous!” Glenda exclaimed, polishing off the last of the overripe fruit and tossing the empty platter onto a nearby divan.

  “And I am quite sure that stealing jewelry is a punishable offense as well,” Marla remarked, throwing Louise a pointed look. “What do they say? An eye for an eye? A pearl for a… Well, I can’t quite remember how that part went.” Marla was now trying on Cleopatra’s various headdresses and currently had a gold vulture attached to the top of her head. “Not quite my style,” she decided, taking off the ornate bird.

  “I’m sorry,” Louise said. “I know that it was wrong to take that necklace. Believe me, I’ll never do that again.”

  “That Roman general is quite handsome, isn’t he? Talk about famous. Forget about Us Weekly—think about Shakespeare! Oh, yes, this is certainly an adventure. Perhaps we should thank you for your little indiscretion,” Glenda responded, ignoring Louise’s attempt at an apology as she dabbed a bit of Cleopatra’s almond oil behind both ears.

  “I think I’m ready for this adventure to be over,” Louise said. “I’m ready to go back home now.”

  “Well, I suppose we’ll find out what happens when you stick your nose into a trunk that says KEEP OUT. But I must admit this has been quite fun for us! New inventory! Who knew they were so fashionable over two thousand years ago? I had no idea that by ancient standards, Alexandria was like Paris, or Milan!” Glenda exclaimed, wrapping herself up in a long square of sheer magenta fabric.

  “Vintage might not be the word for it, but Cleopatra was quite stylish for such an antiquated era,” Marla continued, this time trying an elaborate topaz-studded headpiece on for size. “Absolutely fabulous! Have you seen the size of these emeralds?” she asked, greedily grabbing a sparkling green collar necklace off the table.