Return of the Mummy (4 page)

Two days later, Uncle Ben’s workers reached the doorway to the burial chamber.

Sari and I had spent the two days hanging around in the tent or exploring the area outside the pyramid. Since it was mostly sand, there wasn’t much to explore.

We spent one long afternoon playing game after game of Scrabble. Playing Scrabble with Sari wasn’t much fun at all. She was a very defensive player and spent hours figuring out ways to clog the board and block me from getting any good words.

Whenever I put down a really good word, Sari claimed it wasn’t a real word and couldn’t be allowed. And since we didn’t have a dictionary in the tent, she won most of the arguments.

Uncle Ben, meanwhile, seemed really stressed out. I thought maybe he was nervous about finally opening the tomb.

He barely spoke to Sari and me. Instead, he spent a lot of time meeting with people I didn’t recognize. He seemed very serious and businesslike. None of his usual backslapping and joking.

Uncle Ben also spent a lot of time talking with Nila. At first, she’d said she wanted to write about his discovery in the pyramid. But now she’d decided to write an article about him. She wrote down nearly every word he said in a little pad she carried with her.

Then, at breakfast, he finally smiled for the first time in two days. “Today’s the day,” he announced.

Sari and I couldn’t hide our excitement. “Are you taking us with you?” I asked.

Uncle Ben nodded. “I want you to be there,” he replied. “Perhaps we will make history today. Perhaps it will be a day you will want to remember for the rest of your lives.” He shrugged and added thoughtfully: “Perhaps.”

A few minutes later, the three of us followed several workers across the sand toward the pyramid. It was a gray day. Heavy clouds hovered low in the sky, threatening rain. The pyramid rose up darkly to meet the clouds.

As we approached the small opening in the back wall, Nila came running up, her camera bobbing in front of her. She wore a long-sleeved blue denim
work shirt over loose-fitting faded jeans. Uncle Ben greeted her warmly. “But still no photographs,” he told her firmly. “Promise?”

Nila smiled back at him. Her green eyes lit up excitedly. She raised a hand to her heart. “Promise.”

We all took yellow hard hats from the equipment dump. Uncle Ben was carrying a large stone mallet. He lowered himself into the entrance, and we followed.

My heart was racing as I hurried to keep up with Sari. The lights from our helmets darted over the narrow tunnel. Far up ahead, I could hear the voices of workers and the steady scrape of their digging tools.

“This is really awesome!” I exclaimed breathlessly to Sari.

“Maybe the tomb is filled with jewels,” Sari whispered as we made our way around a curve. “Sapphires and rubies and emeralds. Maybe I’ll get to try on a jeweled crown worn by an Egyptian princess.”

“Do you think there’s a mummy in the tomb?” I asked. I wasn’t too interested in jewels. “Do you think the mummified body of Prince Khor-Ru is lying there, waiting to be discovered?”

Sari made a disgusted face. “Is that all you can think about — mummies?”

“Well, we
are
in an ancient Egyptian pyramid!” I shot back.

“There could be millions of dollars’ worth of jewels and relics in that tomb,” Sari scolded. “And all you can think about is some moldy old body wrapped up in tar and gauze.” She shook her head. “You know, most kids get over their fascination with mummies by the time they’re eight or nine.”

“Uncle Ben didn’t!” I replied.

That shut her up.

We followed Nila and Uncle Ben in silence. After a while, the narrow tunnel curved up sharply. The air grew warmer as we followed it up.

I could see lights ahead. Two battery-powered spotlights were trained on the far wall. As we drew closer, I realized it wasn’t a wall. It was a door.

Four workers — two men and two women — were on their knees, working with small shovels and picks. They were scraping the last chunks of dirt away from the door.

“It looks beautiful!” Uncle Ben cried, running up to the workers. They turned to greet him. “It’s awesome in the true sense of the word!” he declared.

Nila, Sari, and I stepped up behind him. Uncle Ben was right. The ancient door really was awesome!

It wasn’t very tall. I could see that Uncle Ben would have to stoop to step into it. But it looked like a door fit for a prince.

The dark mahogany wood — now petrified — must have been brought from far away. I knew that kind of wood didn’t come from any trees that grew in Egypt.

Strange hieroglyphs covered the door from top to bottom. I recognized birds, and cats, and other animals etched deeply into the dark wood.

The most startling sight of all was the seal that locked the door — a snarling lion’s head, sculpted in gold. The light from the spotlights made the lion glow like the sun.

“The gold is soft,” I heard one of the workers tell my uncle. “The seal will break away easily.”

Uncle Ben lowered his heavy mallet to the ground. He stared for a long moment at the glowing lion’s head, then turned back to us. “They thought this lion would scare any intruders away from the tomb,” he explained. “I guess it worked. Till now.”

“Dr. Hassad, I have to photograph the actual breaking of the seal,” Nila said, stepping up beside him. “You really must let me. We can’t let the moment go unrecorded.”

He gazed at her thoughtfully. “Well … okay,” he agreed.

A pleased smile crossed her face as she raised her camera. “Thanks, Ben.”

The workers stepped back. One of them handed Uncle Ben a hammer and a delicate tool that looked like a doctor’s scalpel. “It’s all yours, Dr. Hassad,” she said.

Uncle Ben raised the tools and stepped up to the seal. “Once I break this seal, we will open the door and step into a room that hasn’t been seen in three thousand years,” he announced.

Nila steadied her camera over her eyes, carefully adjusting the lens.

Sari and I moved up beside the workers.

The gold lion appeared to glow brighter as Uncle Ben raised the tool. A hush fell over the tunnel. I could feel the excitement, feel the tension in the air.

Such suspense!

I realized I had been holding my breath. I let it out in a long, silent whoosh and took another.

I glanced at Sari. She was nervously chewing her lower lip. Her hands were pressed tightly at her sides.

“Anyone hungry? Maybe we should forget about this and send out for a pizza!” Uncle Ben joked.

We all laughed loudly.

That was Uncle Ben for you — cracking a dumb joke at what might be the most exciting moment of his life.

The tense silence returned. Uncle Ben’s expression turned serious. He turned back to the ancient seal. He raised the small chisel to the back of the seal. Then he started to lift the hammer.

And a booming voice rang out, “PLEASE — LET ME REST IN PEACE!”

I let out a startled cry.

“LET ME REST IN PEACE!” the booming voice repeated.

I saw Uncle Ben lower his chisel. He spun around, his eyes wide with surprise.

I realized the voice came from behind us. I turned to see a man I had never seen before, half hidden in the shadowy tunnel. He made his way toward us, taking long, steady strides.

He was a tall, lanky man, so tall he really had to hunch his shoulders in the low tunnel. Bald except for a fringe of dark hair at the ears, he had a slender face, an unfriendly scowl on his thin lips.

He wore a perfectly ironed safari jacket over a shirt and necktie. His black eyes, like little raisins, glared at my uncle. I wondered if the man ever ate. He was as skinny as a mummy himself!

“Omar!” Uncle Ben started. “I wasn’t expecting you back from Cairo.”

“Let me rest in peace,” Dr. Fielding repeated, softer this time. “Those are the words of Prince Khor-Ru. Written on the ancient stone we found last month. That was the prince’s wish.”

“Omar, we’ve been over this before,” my uncle replied, sighing. He lowered the hammer and chisel to his sides.

Dr. Fielding pushed past Sari and me as if we weren’t there. He stopped in front of my uncle and swept a hand back over his bald head. “Well, then, how can you dare to break the seal?” Dr. Fielding demanded.

“I am a scientist,” my uncle replied slowly, speaking each word clearly and distinctly. “I cannot allow superstition to stand in the way of discovery, Omar.”

“I am also a scientist,” Dr. Fielding replied, using both hands to tighten his necktie. “But I am not willing to defile this ancient tomb. I am not willing to go against the wishes of Prince Khor-Ru. And I am not willing to call the words of the hieroglyph mere superstition.”

“This is where we disagree,” Uncle Ben said softly. He motioned to the four workers. “We have spent too many months, too many years, to stop just outside the door. We have come this far, Omar. We must go the rest of the way.”

Dr. Fielding chewed his lower lip. He pointed to the top of the door. “Look, Ben. There are the same hieroglyphs as on the stone. The same warning.
Let me rest in peace.”

“I know, I know,” my uncle said, frowning.

“The warning is very clear,” Dr. Fielding continued heatedly, his tiny raisin eyes narrowed at my uncle. “If anyone should disturb the prince, if anyone should repeat the ancient words written on the tomb five times — the mummified prince shall come to life. And he shall seek his vengeance on those who disturbed him.”

Listening to those words made me shudder. I stared hard at Uncle Ben. Why hadn’t he ever told Sari and me about the prince’s threat? Why hadn’t he ever mentioned the words of warning they had found on an ancient stone?

Was he afraid he might frighten us?

Was he frightened himself?

No. No way.

He didn’t seem at all frightened now as he argued with Dr. Fielding. I could tell they had had this argument before. And I could see there was no way that Dr. Fielding was going to stop my uncle from breaking the seal and entering the tomb.

“This is my final warning, Ben —” Dr. Fielding said. “For the sake of everyone here …” He motioned with one hand to the four workers.

“Superstition,” Uncle Ben replied. “I cannot be stopped by superstition. I am a scientist.” He raised the chisel and hammer. “The seal will be broken.”

Dr. Fielding tossed up both hands in disgust. “I will not be a party to this,” he declared. He spun around, nearly hitting his head on the tunnel ceiling. Then, muttering to himself, he hurried away, disappearing quickly into the darkness of the tunnel.

Uncle Ben took a couple of steps after him. “Omar? Omar?”

But we could hear Dr. Fielding’s footsteps growing fainter as he made his way out of the pyramid.

Uncle Ben sighed and leaned close to me. “I don’t trust that man,” he muttered. “He doesn’t really care about the old superstitions. He wants to steal this discovery for himself. That’s why he tried to make me stop outside the door.”

I didn’t know how to reply. My uncle’s words startled me. I thought scientists had rules about who took credit for what discoveries.

Uncle Ben whispered something to Nila. Then he made his way back to the four workers. “If any of you agree with Dr. Fielding,” he told them, “you are free to leave now.”

The workers exchanged glances with one another.

“You have all heard the words of warning on the tomb door. I do not want to force anyone to enter the tomb,” Uncle Ben told them.

“But we have worked so hard,” one of the men said. “We cannot stop here. We have no choice. We
have
to open that door.”

A smile crossed my uncle’s face. “I agree,” he said, turning back to the lion seal.

I glanced at Sari and realized that she was already staring at me. “Gabe, if you’re scared, Daddy will let you leave,” she whispered. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

She never quits!

“I’m staying,” I whispered back. “But if you want me to walk you back to the tent, I will.”

A loud
clink
made us both turn back to the door. Uncle Ben was working to pry off the gold lion seal. Nila had her camera poised. The workers stood tensely, watching Uncle Ben’s every move.

Uncle Ben worked slowly, carefully. He slid the chisel behind the ancient seal and gently pried and scraped.

A few minutes later, the seal fell into my uncle’s hands. Nila busily snapped photograph after photograph. Uncle Ben carefully passed it to one of the workers. “That’s not a Christmas gift,” he joked. “I’m keeping that for my mantelpiece!”

Everyone laughed.

Uncle Ben gripped the edge of the door with both hands. “I’m going in first,” he announced. “If I’m not back in twenty minutes, go tell Dr. Fielding he was right!”

More laughter.

Two of the workers moved to help Uncle Ben slide open the door. They pressed their shoulders against it, straining hard.

The door didn’t budge.

“It might need a little oiling,” Uncle Ben joked. “After all, it’s been closed for three thousand years.”

They worked for several minutes with picks and chisels, carefully freeing the door. Then they tried once again, pressing their shoulders against the heavy mahogany door.

“Yes!” Uncle Ben cried out as the door slid an inch.

Then another inch. Another inch.

Everyone pressed forward, eager to get a view of the ancient tomb.

Two of the workers moved the large spotlights, aiming them into the doorway.

As Uncle Ben and his two helpers pushed against the door, Sari and I stepped up beside Nila. “Isn’t this amazing!” Nila cried excitedly. “I can’t believe I’m the only reporter here! I’m so lucky!”

I’m lucky, too,
I realized.
How many kids would give anything to be standing right where
I am? How many kids would love to be one of the first people in the world to step into a three-thousand-year-old tomb in an Egyptian pyramid?

The faces of some of my friends back home suddenly popped into my mind. I realized I couldn’t
wait
to tell them about my adventure here!

The door scraped noisily against the dirt floor. Another inch. Another inch.

The opening was almost big enough for a person to squeeze through.

“Move the light a little,” Uncle Ben instructed. “Another few inches, and we can go in and shake hands with the prince.”

The door scraped open another inch. With a great heave, Uncle Ben and his helpers forced it open another few inches.

“Yes!” he cried happily.

Nila snapped a photograph.

We all pressed forward eagerly.

Uncle Ben slid through the opening first.

Sari bumped me out of the way and cut in front of me.

My heart was pounding hard. My hands were suddenly ice-cold.

I didn’t care who went in first. I just wanted to go in!

One by one, we slipped into the ancient chamber.

Finally, my turn came. I took a deep breath, slipped through the opening, and saw —

— nothing.

Except for a lot of cobwebs, the chamber was bare.

Totally bare.