Chapter 2: Dogs and Gods

I stood frozen as the two men stared at me standing stalk still in the door way. I wasn't really sure what they were talking about but I did not want them to notice me so quickly. Luckily, I was spared from having to say anything.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Bitou suddenly exclaimed pulling the boy's curious face from me. "I have a gift for you. I think you'll like it."

There was a moment of awkward silence. I thought if he had a gift he would be pulling it out now, but he didn't make any such movement. He just grinned at the boy who stared back at him with a thoughtful look.

"Is that so?" the boy inquired. "And it is where?"

"All in good time. You'll have it soon enough, anyway. Well, I've done all I can do. The rest is up to you. I do wish you the best of luck." Bitou gave one last smile and faded into thin air.

It wasn't every day you saw someone disappear like that, so it was understandable for me to be in utter shock at the sight. I didn't notice at first the boy had approached me until his chestnut eyes were directly in front of mine.

"May I ask what your name is?" the boy asked.

I mechanically opened my mouth to answer but then I felt my attention being tugged to the two large trees ahead as though a siren was blaring from over there. I was only several feet away from the spot where the green glow was coming from and now I could think of nothing more than finding its source.

I walked past the boy without a word. When I reached the trees I closed my eyes. It was coming from the ground right in between the two tree trunks. I ran my hand through the grass vigorously but there was nothing hidden there. I then realized that this green glow was larger than it had looked from far away.

I stared at the ground for a moment as I thought about what to do next. It couldn't be buried in the ground could it? It didn't seem likely as the grass and soil didn't look to have been disturbed. But finer details escaped me as my determination had me clawing my hands into the dirt. I was so focused I forgot all about the boy and jumped when he spoke next to me.

"Do you need help with that?"

My eyes tightened into a glare, but otherwise I shook my head and kept digging. My pants were getting dirty and my fingernails were full of soil. After a couple of minutes of toiling, my fingers scraped against something hard. I started digging around the object so I could pull it out. It felt round and long, but it was smooth and hard. For a moment I thought the universe hated me and had sent me a magically glowing beer bottle. I finally managed to dislodge it from its grave and found it was a jar. I pulled it out from the ground. When I saw what it was, I felt as though ice water had been dumped on top of me.

The body of it was an aged, white color. It was rounded but tall. The top of the jar I recognized all too well. The jackal head was black and had a fierce, long snout. It wore a green and gold headdress on its head as most paintings of mummies had. I absentmindedly rubbed the dirt off of it as tears rolled down my face.

I couldn't keep from thinking of all my memories connected to this jar. I remembered my parents enthusiastically describing it to me. Then I thought of the night it had been stolen. Nothing my parents owned survived the fire. Nothing but this jar. And now it was in my hands after six years of it being missing. The boy shuffled next to me.

"So this was Bitou's gift." I saw his hand reach out for the jar and I quickly got up and backed away from him.

"No! You can't have this!" I yelled at him. It was irrational to get so angry. I wanted to blame him for everything that has happened today. I wanted to scream at him to get out of my life. Instead, I clutched the jar to me and ran away from the school.

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"Why aren't you in school?" My uncle asked as he came in through the front door.

"I came home early. Aunt Sophie called in for me. What are you doing home?"

"I couldn't stand listening to Barbara talking nonstop next to my office so I'm working from home today. I'll be in my room." He was about to go upstairs when he stopped suddenly. "Why does it smell like pinesol?"

"I… I've been cleaning."

He looked at me suspiciously. When I ran home in my emotional state, I came to realize that this hectic feeling I had been carrying with me this whole day hadn't gone away. I was restless. Without thinking about it, I started cleaning every part of the house, even getting out a ladder to dust the ceiling fans. It helped to have something to focus on.

"You should be staying in your room," My uncle scolded. "Even if you're playing hooky, at least pretend you're sick." And he headed upstairs.

I should have felt guilty, but with all that had occurred today I didn't have the energy to feel concerned. Try as I might, I couldn't keep my mind from wondering back to the jar and how it had appeared so suddenly after all this time. My gut reaction was that it was connected to everything that had occurred today but I couldn't wrap my mind around how that was. The puzzle pieces were scattered, but I couldn't fit them together. There were still pieces to the picture missing.

I glanced at the jar sitting on the table. It never left my sight since coming home. It was a strange sensation that the sight of it made memories flood into my mind. My mother complaining about the fingerprints I was leaving on the glass cabinet that housed it. My father explaining mummification in detail that probably wasn't suitable for my young age. A foxish dog holding it in its muzzle.

The fire.

I picked up the jar from the table when the doorbell rang. I was too overwhelmed to deal with a salesman. Nevertheless, I answered the door to find someone I wasn't expecting.

Standing in the doorway was the boy with the black and copper hair. Anger flared when I saw him. I made to slam the door in his face. He reacted too quickly, though, and managed to slide his foot in the doorway. I wondered if it hurt when the door slammed into his foot. I found I didn't care much if it did.

From the crack in the door an arm holding my backpack shoved itself inside. I had completely forgotten about it. I sharply snatched if from him. His arm dropped out of site. "May I come in?" his voice sounded from the other side.

I hesitated. Although this would be a good chance to get some answers from him, my Uncle Dan would not allow me bringing a friend into my room. Not when I'm "sick".

I leaned forward and spoke in a fast, hushed voice. "You can't come in through the door while my uncle is here. My room is on the top floor. The tree over there is right next to my window. If you can get to it without making any noise, I'll let you in."

I kicked his foot and closed the door quickly wondering if I'd done the right thing. Throwing my backpack over my shoulder, I headed up the stairs.

My uncle popped his head out of his room when I reached the top of the stairs. "Who was that at the door?" he asked.

"Molly brought my homework over," I lied. This seemed to be enough for my uncle. I went into my room. There was a soft knock as soon as I entered and I saw the boy sitting on the tree branch right outside my window. I put my things on my bed and opened the window.

"You climb as fast as a squirrel," I commented. He climbed in with no reply. I stood uncomfortably as the boy stood on my chest under the window observing my room. He stopped when he saw the jar on my bed and I could almost see a light spark in his eyes. He then looked at me with very thoughtful eyes. His eyes had fierceness in them, but I stared right back into his with what I hoped was fierceness too. To break the moment, I said, "We need to talk."

"Yes, we do." He sat on the chest as he said it. I went over to my bed to sit and held the jar in my lap. The boy looked at the jar in my hands before he looked up to address me. "I hadn't meant to scare you earlier."

I snorted. He didn't really react at all to my contemptuous answer. His blank stare was very unsettling.

He took a moment to look at the jar again before continuing. "I came here to ask you for the canopic jar. It's very important to me, you see. I would be grateful if you would let me have it."

I could tell he was picking his words carefully, but I wasn't going to let him flatter me into giving it off. "No, you can't have it."

"Why not?"

"It's not yours."

"Then whose is it?"

I remained silent not wanting to explain it was once my parents and open the conversation into a long story I didn't want to share. It was my business, not his. He leaned back where he sat regarding me.

"Do you know how many of those kind of jars exist? Mortals have been making replicas of these since they started digging them up in the ancient lands. Just about every tourist stand in Egypt sells them. There's a better chance of that being another knock-off than it being your parents."

"I never said it was my parents," I whispered.

He didn't show much reaction. His eyes turned glassy and he cast them to the floor. I was shaken, but I tried not to let it show. Had he made a lucky guess, or did he know more than he should? I didn't want to believe it, but I was leaning towards the latter.

"What can I do to get you to give me the jar?" he asked me.

"You're not very good at this, are you?" I scrutinized. "I'm not giving it to you." I leaned back putting my weight on my arms. I didn't like it. It was so inhuman how I could flat out tell him no and he gave no reaction at all. "Tell me something," I continued. "At school everyone thought you were Andrew Darnell, but you're not. Why is that?"

He scrunched his eyebrows together looking confused. "You don't think I'm Andrew Darnell?"

"Why should I?" I replied slowly. He glanced at me but shook his head looking away. "Just who are you?"

"If I tell you, will give me the jar?"

"I might start considering it, maybe."

That seemed to be enough for him. "My name is Anubis."

"And my name is Cleopatra."

He cocked an eyebrow. "No it isn't."

I hid my face in my hands and groaned. This guy couldn't be serious. "Of course it isn't. It's just… whatever. So, what, is Anubis a gang name or something?"

"No. It's what I go by."

"Then what did your parents name you? Give me that name."

"It doesn't matter. No one calls me that anymore," he responded flatly.

"Fine, fine. Whatever. Then Anubis," I said his name as though it were a slur, "while you were playing around as Andrew's replacement, where is the real Andrew?"

He slumped back against the window with a gloomy look on his face. He then looked me in the eyes and said, "He committed suicide yesterday."

I squeezed my grip on the canopic jar in my lap feeling my pulse pound in the veins of my hand. Andrew had killed himself. It somehow didn't surprise me, sadly, but it still left me feeling horrible. I didn't know him well. I had a feeling he had a rough life at home, and then school was sure to be hell for him too. I saw him leaving school yesterday and thought about talking to him. Why did I stop myself? Could I have done something if I had? Maybe. Maybe not. It wouldn't stop me from feeling quilt over it. I was so thoroughly miserable I forgot about 'Anubis' before he asked, "Are you okay?"

"How do you even know this? Were you involved?"

"No."

"Then why?! Why are you here acting like you're him?"

"Bitou led me here, but he never answered my calls. I needed to stay close, so playing the part of a student was a good opportunity."

"You're exploiting his death," I whispered.

"I made a deal with him."

I regarded him, now wary of the kind of person I had allowed into my room. "So then you helped him kill himself?"

He shook his head. "He was already dead when I first met him."

"That's not even …!" I cut off in exasperation.

"Can I have my jar now?"

I was too upset to say anything else. I could feel he was keeping things from me. Everything he said merely added to the mystery of what was going on. Our conversation was only a dance around the truth at the center of everything. I felt so helpless now I asked in almost a pleading tone, "Why do you want this jar so much?"

"My heart is inside it."

It took a second for the meaning of his words to register. I glared at his impassive figure. "What do you mean? You can't mean that literally."

"I mean my heart was cut into twelve pieces and placed into canopic jars. Yours is one of many others."

Could the person I'm talking to be off his rocker? I suppose normally I wouldn't have a doubt he was. He showed the emotional range of a spoon, he believes he can talk to dead people and live without a heart. I should be escorting him to a mental hospital. But I can see glowing jars and a black and white world when I close my eyes. I wasn't exactly one to judge what is sane and insane.

"Are you a ghost or something?"

He shook his head.

"I don't think you're a zombie either…" What was I entertaining by asking these questions? I wasn't really sure myself why I was considering these things. As I thought, his name struck a chord. I imagined how he would respond to my question. It gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. I asked anyway.

"Are you a god?"

He nodded.

The jar felt warmer than I was. Supposedly it had a severed heart in it. I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it anymore.

"Are you from Egypt then?"

"Originally, yes."

"Your head looks a bit too human for an Egyptian god." At this point I wasn't putting much thought into what I was saying. The words just spilled out of my mouth.

"We never did use those forms often. It makes us stand out as you can imagine."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so…" I couldn't even work myself to feel shocked anymore. So many impossible things had already happened today. At this point I merely felt drained. I hadn't the energy to keep up a conversation so I sat in silence slowly turning the jar in my lap around and around.

"May I ask you something?" the boy finally said.

"What is it?"

"How was it that you knew the jar was buried in the ground?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "I could… see it, somehow. It was glowing, but only when my eyes were closed."

"Hmm, that's why your eyes were closed…" his voice trailed off. "Bitou had said something like that. He called you a GBF."

"GPS," I corrected.

"Yeah, that."

"Who was that guy anyway?"

"Just one of the gods. I can't say I know him too well, but he has a good eye. He's good at finding things. Or people."

"And he somehow knew who I was and that I could find this jar?"

"It would appear so."

I sighed and hid my face in my hands. Even with my hand covering my eyes I could still see Anubis's mono-colored figure sitting across from me. "I'm sorry, I just… How am I supposed to believe any of this?"

He pointed to my lap. "You have the evidence right there."

I looked at him warily and slowly lifted the jar. I held it to my ear to see if I could hear anything. At first I heard nothing. Then I could hear a faint, rhythmic pounding. I almost screamed. I was done holding on to it.

"See," Anubis said as though to make his point.

I thrust the jar at him. "Here. You can have it now."

He took the jar from me. I reluctantly watched him as he pulled the head off the jar. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and drank from it. Some blood trickled from his mouth. It was seeing a black lump of flesh spasm before it entered his mouth that had me running to the bathroom. I threw up everything in my stomach. I suppose this was a long time coming. As much as seeing Anubis drink his own heart had turned my stomach, it was also the trigger that made me believe he was telling me the truth. I had helped a god sneak into my room through my bedroom window.

I heard footsteps behind me. Thinking Anubis followed me, I turned around only to see my uncle at the doorway.

"Oh, I'll use the downstairs bathroom," he stammered. He quickly walked to the stairs and I sighed. I guess now he won't think I'm playing hooky. I stood up and trudged back to my room. I noticed that the anxiousness that had been plaguing me was gone.

Anubis was wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand when I came in. I had a feeling I wouldn't be eating dinner tonight.

"Thank you," Anubis said. He was smiling at me, which was a first. He probably wouldn't be too bad looking if he didn't have that emptiness still lingering in his eyes.

"Yeah…Yeah, sure." I was suddenly more nervous talking to him than I was before. I couldn't possibly imagine how I could have ended up being involved with someone like him. It was absurd. But here he was, though not for long. He got what he wanted. My crazy day was coming to an end, and I was sure he would disappear with it.

Until he asked, "Will I see you at school tomorrow?"

His question stunned me. "Yeah… yeah, I'll be there," I stammered in response.

He gave a small smile. He turned to go out when a thought tugged at my mind I couldn't ignore.

"Wait!" I called out and Anubis turned around.

"How did you know my parents had a jar like that one?"

Anubis looked at me for a moment and then responded, "Because I was the one who stole it from them." He turned back and jumped out the window.