by H. R. Hobbs
“Come with me. I have something that you can do.”
Finally! Mitch couldn’t wait to get out of there.
Jabari led them to another room filled with rolls of some sort of material. “We will need this linen to wrap the body.” He proceeded to show them how to take the material from the roll and tear it into long strips. “We will need many strips. It is a very big body.”
Mitch and Brock settled down onto the dirt floor and began tearing the fabric. Jabari was in the next room, attending to the body. The boys had only been at it for an hour, but it seemed like they’d been at it all day. To pass the time, they talked about what they were going to do when they got home.
“The first thing I’m going to do,” Mitch said as he pulled another piece of linen from the roll, “is put the spyglass back in the trunk, which is what I should have done in the first place. Just like Hank said.”
“I’m going to get the biggest glass of iced tea and drink it in one gulp.”
“Don’t talk about anything cool. It just makes me feel hotter.” Mitch wiped his sweaty forehead on his robes for the millionth time. “I thought I knew what it meant to be hot. But I had no idea.”
The boys were quiet for a while and then Brock said quietly, “I miss my mom and dad.”
Mitch hated to admit it, but he missed his parents, too. He even missed his sister. That’s how bad it was. Mitch didn’t care if his parents ignored him for the next ten years. At least he would be home.
“Where do you think we can find this amulet thingy?”
Brock’s question was one that had been running through Mitch’s mind ever since Jabari had told them that’s what Great-Grandpa George had used to get home.
Mitch scanned the room. There were shelves and shelves of clay jars. The jars had stoppers carved to resemble the head of a bird, monkey, dog, or human. Mitch shivered. He knew what went into those jars.
“Maybe there’s something in those boxes.” Brock pointed to where four wooden boxes sat on the dirt floor under the shelves.
“Maybe,” Mitch answered. “But we have to be careful. If anyone catches us going through them, we could be in trouble. Or we could get Jabari in trouble.”
“Everyone seems to be busy. Why don’t I go over and look through them, while you keep lookout? If you hear someone coming, cough or something.”
Mitch still wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but he nodded in agreement anyway. The men who worked with Jabari were already suspicious. If they caught them going through the boxes, he wasn’t sure what they would do to them.
Brock unfolded his legs and slowly stood up. He paused and listened for anyone coming. Mitch held his breath and listened too. Satisfied the coast was clear, Brock tiptoed over to the boxes.
Mitch watched as he reached in and began moving things around. Anxious to see if Brock discovered anything, he divided his attention between Brock and listening for any sounds coming from the hallway. He was folding a piece of linen when a loud bang! came from Brock’s direction. He froze. His ears strained to hear any sound from outside the room. Seconds later, the scuffling of feet could be heard coming towards them.
“Psst!” Mitch hissed.
Brock scurried back to his spot on the floor and picked up the linen and began tearing.
Jabari appeared in the doorway.
“Is everything all right?”
Mitch grinned. “Great!”
Brock grinned alongside him. “Never better.”
Jabari studied them for a moment, watching as they frantically tore strips of cloth and folded them.
“One of the men thought he heard a loud noise coming from in here.”
“Nope. Nothing loud from us.”
“Quiet as mice.”
Jabari cast his gaze around the room once more. Finally he said, “Stick to the task I have given you. We do not want to raise the suspicions of the others any more than they already are. Please. I am risking my family’s safety by helping you.”
The boys nodded and Jabari left.
“That was close,” Mitch said, stating the obvious. “And Jabari was right . . . we can’t hurt his family while they try to help us.
Brock nodded sheepishly.
“Did you find anything in the box?” Mitch asked.
“No. Just a bunch of tools. Hammers and chisels. I’m afraid to ask what they use those for.”
Mitch’s eyes grew round at Brock’s words. What they’d seen so far had him imagining all kinds of horrors.
The boys spent the rest of the morning tearing strips of linen. Neither of them offered to check the rest of the boxes, for fear of what they’d find. Or worse, getting caught.
Jabari came around the corner an hour later.
“Come. It is time to eat.”
He turned and swept out of the room. The boys grabbed their food and waterskins and followed Jabari out to a shaded court, where the rest of the men sat in the shade eating. Jabari pointed to a spot on the ground away from the other men and the boys sat. The men ate food off a square of leather. It was similar to the leather pouch Rehema had given them that morning.
Mitch untied the leather strap surrounding his pouch and opened it up. A square wrapped in what looked like green leaves sat in the center. Peeling back the leaves, he was surprised at what lay before him. Inside were three circular pieces of what looked like bread. Beside them lay what he thought was cheese and some olives. This was lunch?
He looked to where Brock was unwrapping his and nearly laughed out loud at the look of disgust on his face.
Mitch leaned over and whispered, “Don’t like olives?”
“Eww, no!” Brock moved them to the edge of the leaves. “And what is this white stuff?”
Jabari, who sat on Brock’s left, leaned over. “It is goat cheese. Very delicious. My wife makes it herself.”
Brock sat back and looked at his lunch again.
“You don’t like it?” Jabari asked, his forehead creased in a frown.
When Brock didn’t answer, Mitch replied, “No, Jabari, it’s great, thank you. I guess it’s just not what we’re used to. But we’ll give it a try.”
Mitch nudged Brock’s knee and gave a pointed look to the food in front of him. He noticed the other men had stopped talking and were watching the conversation with Jabari.
Brock noticed all eyes were on him as well. He looked to Jabari, who carefully spread the cheese on his bread and folded it in half before biting down into it.
Following Jabari’s example, Brock spread his cheese and took a bite. He immediately grimaced. But at the stares of the other men, he wiped any sign of disgust from his face.
Mitch did the same and took a bite. It had a sharp, salty taste that he had never encountered before. He liked the sharp flavour of the cheese and the crunch of the olives. Brock gave him a dark look at his enjoyment of the meal.
Mitch finished his lunch quickly and folded up the leather pouch to give to Rehema. It took Brock numerous sips of water from the skin to get his lunch down, and by the time he was finished, the men were openly laughing at him.
Brock’s face was bright red as they made their way back to the linen room. Mitch wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or anger.
Jabari checked on their progress. “You’re doing well.” He looked through the pieces of linen they had stacked beside them. “You must take care to keep them the same size. This is very important when we go to wrap the body.” Jabari noticed Brock’s sullen expression and chuckled. “Do not worry, my friend. You will get used to our food and the teasing of the men.”
After Jabari left, Mitch heard Brock mumble, “I doubt it.”
Not long after the boys settled back into their task, one of the men came in and took the box of tools Brock had been looking through from under the shelf.
On his way out, he made a comment to Brock that they didn’t understand, laughed, and left.
A few minutes later, Jabar
i came into the room. “Come. We are going to begin the inscription on the sarcophagus. I thought you might be interested. Yes?” He looked back and forth between them. “You will have the honour of watching Metjen at work. He is one of my best carvers.”
Remembering the suspicious looks from lunch, Mitch said, “Are you sure he won’t mind us watching? He didn’t seem too friendly.”
“You will be fine. Metjen has worked here since he was a young boy. I found him on the streets trying to steal from one of the food stalls many years ago. I offered him a job and he has been with me ever since. He is very loyal. You can trust him.”
“Okay.” Mitch thought about Jabari’s words. It made sense that Metjen would be suspicious of them. He was probably protecting Jabari.
“Excellent. Follow me.”
Jabari led them down the hallway to a different room. There on the ground was a huge rock. It looked to be about as long as Jabari and came up to Mitch’s waist. Jabari introduced them to Metjen, who had a chisel and hammer in his hands.
Jabari explained as the man began to carve large hunks from the rock.
“The sarcophagus is usually made well before a person dies. However, in this case the man was quite young, so his sarcophagus had not been prepared. Metjen is going to form the basic shape, and then it will be decorated in the man’s likeness. I will leave you to watch Metjen work.”
The boys choose a spot a few feet from the stone to sit and watch. Stone chips flew through the air as Metjen guided the chisel over the stone. Sweat poured down Metjen’s face. Often he would stop and wipe his brow before it ran into his eyes. The stone slowly took shape as he worked. The head of the sarcophagus was higher than the rest of the body. Metjen chiseled a circle to represent the dead man’s face.
“This is really creepy,” Brock commented as they watched. “Can you imagine being wrapped up and stuck in a stone coffin forever?”
Mitch couldn’t. He’d never really thought about what it would be like to be dead, but he was starting to understand how important Egyptians’ belief in life after death was to them. They worked in painstaking detail to prepare the body for a happy afterlife.
Metjen put down his tool and brushed off the sarcophagus. He said something to the boys, but at their blank stares he waved an impatient hand and kept working.
Jabari came and got them a short time later.
“So, what did you learn watching Metjen?”
Brock answered first. “You guys are serious about where you’re going to after you die.”
Jabari chuckled. “This is true. Egyptians believe that when you die you face the judgement of Anubis. It is there that your life is weighed on a set of scales. If you have lived a good life, you proceed to the afterlife. If not, you do not proceed. Is it not similar in the Great Beyond?”
“Who is Anubis?” Mitch asked.
“Anubis is the god of judgement. He, along with the other gods, presides over the afterlife.”
Mitch nodded, unsure how to answer his previous question. Jabari continued.
“This is why the sarcophagus is created in a man’s likeness, so that the gods will recognize him on his arrival. Also, along with amulets and gold, the man’s tomb will have food, clothing, and furniture for his comfort. Depending on the man’s wealth, his tomb may contain carved replicas of servants, to perform the duties requested of the gods in his place.”
“Is that why pyramids are so big?” Mitch asked.
“This is part of the reason, yes. The pyramid is considered to be the ramp to the heavens.”
“Wow!”
“Yes, indeed—wow,” Jabari repeated, enjoying the silly word. He stopped at the opening to their workroom. “I must go and get some parcels from the family of our merchant. I will be gone for some time. Please stay out of trouble.” He gave them a pleading yet stern look.
“We will,” Mitch promised.
Jabari considered them, nodded, smiled, then left.
Mitch placed a strip of linen on the rapidly growing pile beside him. It was only their first day of work and he was ready to be finished forever.
“What do you think Jabari will get from the dead guy’s family?”
Brock considered his question. “Maybe some of the stuff he said they put in the sarcophagus?”
“Or . . . maybe some amulets to pack around the body?”
Brock gasped at the idea. “Let’s hope so.”
“We’ll need to find a way to look through whatever he brings back.”
Mitch thought about the best way to do that. Jabari knew what they were looking for, but simply taking the amulet, if there was one, could put him in danger too. They were going to have to let Jabari in on the plan. After all he and Rehema had done for them, Mitch didn’t want to get him into trouble.
“We need to create a diversion when he gets back. That way, one of us can look through the parcel before any of the others do. If we get to it first, no one will know if we took something or not.”
“What kind of diversion are you thinking of?”
Mitch wasn’t sure.
“When he comes back,” Brock suggested, “one of us could ask him about the sarcophagus.”
Mitch shook his head. “That won’t work.”
“How come?”
“We’re trying to distract his men, not Jabari. Besides, he’s already told us about the sarcophagus.”
Brock nodded, his shoulders slumping.
Mitch went on, “He’ll probably bring the parcel to the room in the back, where they store the gifts. It’s got to be something that will get everyone into the front room of the building. And that’s not going to be easy, because Metjen and the other men don’t seem to want anything to do with us.”
Brock sighed and they went back to ripping the fabric.
As they continued with their work, Mitch suddenly got an idea.
“I know! You pretend to get sick. I mean violent stomach pains. Maybe from the different food we had today. I’ll call for Jabari and the others, and while they look after you, I’ll look through whatever Jabari brought back.” Mitch smiled at Brock, happy with the plan.
Brock, however, grumbled, “Why does it have to be me?”
“Because you were practically green today trying to each your lunch. You think nobody noticed how it took every bit of water in your skin to get it down?”
Brock hung his head. “It was disgusting. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s olives! And that cheese . . .” He grimaced at the memory.
“Which is why you have to be the one to get sick. They’ll never believe it was me.”
“All right, fine.” Brock sighed in resignation. “What do you want me to do?”
Mitch rubbed his hands together. He was actually enjoying this. He felt as though he was on a Hollywood set, giving the actor directions. “As soon as we hear Jabari and everyone come into the shop, I want you to start moaning. Loud enough for his men to hear.”
“Moaning?” Brock pouted.
“Yeah, like this.”
Mitch folded over, clutching his stomach, and began to Ooh! and Ah! He was so loud, Brock covered his mouth, afraid the men would come to see what was happening.
“Okay, I get the idea.”
Mitch sat up and grinned. “I’ll tell Jabari to tell them you need fresh air. While they take you outside, I’ll look through what’s in the parcel.”
Brock frowned. “I still don’t know why you can’t be the sick one. You were the one who nearly fainted at the sight of that guy’s lungs.”
Mitch rolled his eyes. “I just explained it to you. Now, let me hear you.”
Brock sat for a moment and let out a half-hearted moan.
“Not good enough.”
“I can’t do it,” Brock whined.
Mitch was going to have to use some drastic measures to make this believable. He grabbed Brock’s arm. “I know this is going to hurt, but . . . you trust me?”
“Ye
ah . . .”
Mitch twisted his arm.
“Owww!”
“That’s more like it. Sorry if that hurt.”
Brock rubbed his arm where Mitch had twisted it. “That’s okay, I get it now.”
“Good. We better get back to work. We don’t want anyone to catch us slacking off.”
Nearly two hours later, they heard Jabari enter the shop.
“Okay, get in position,” Mitch whispered to Brock.
Brock clutched his stomach and fell to the side, knocking over piles of linen.
Mitch stuck his head out the doorway and yelled, “Jabari!”
Jabari, with a wooden box in his hands, came running, followed closely by the other men.
“What is wrong?” Jabari panted, looking frantically around the room before seeing Mitch crouched on the floor beside Brock.
Mitch tried to add a note of distress to his voice. “He was complaining that his stomach hurt!”
Jabari knelt beside Brock, concern written on his face. “Tell me what is paining you.”
Brock let out a loud moan. “My stomach . . .”
Jabari barked some instructions to Metjen, who was standing in the doorway.
“Maybe some fresh air would help,” Mitch suggested. “He said he was having trouble breathing, too.”
Brock shot Mitch a dangerous look from under his lashes. Then, going along with it, he coughed and gasped as if short of breath.
“Good idea.” Jabari helped Brock sit up. “Do you think you can walk?”
Brock nodded and, with Jabari and Mitch’s support, got to his feet. They led him down the hallway and out of the shop. Along the way, Mitch filled Jabari in on their plan. His mouth formed a thin line. Mitch knew he wasn’t happy, but he went along with it. Metjen appeared with a skin of water. Jabari opened the skin and tipped it towards Brock’s mouth. He swallowed and took a deep breath.
As the men tended to Brock, Mitch slipped quietly back into the shop. The box lay on the floor of the workroom where Jabari had left it. The wooden chest was decorated with carvings on the sides and lid. With a quick check to make sure no one had followed him back in, Mitch lifted the lid on the box.
