Evy Carnahan O'Connell was bored. She loved her boys more than anything in the world, and she liked nothing better than to make them happy, but lately all Alex was interested in was flying planes with his father. He had been spending less and less time at the British Museum and more time at Izzy's. He would never admit it, but Evy thought that he had really been affected by his recent experiences in Egypt. It had been three months, and Evy was still waiting for the right moment to talk to him about it. So for now, all she had to do for fun was polish and translate artifacts at the Museum, or polish and translate artifacts in her house. She was bored, and she wanted something to do.

It was a puzzling dilemma that made her think, as she sat in her room pretending to read a novel. She couldn't stand the beastly things, novels. Fantasy was not on her list of favorite subjects, since her own life was much more exciting than most of the books she had read- or at least it had been until Alex started taking flying lessons. Exasperatedly she shut the book and went downstairs to get an early start on making dinner. This was definitely not how she wanted to spend her married life- reading novels and cooking. She wasn't that brilliant of a cook, either. Irritably she got out a pan and starting pouring various things into it. Her nerves took a severe hit as a small, previously hidden statue of Bastet fell off a shelf into the nearly empty pot with a splashy clang, covering her in herb bits and water. Trying not to scream, she picked up the statue and went to wipe it off. As the obsidian image dried and shone, Evy was struck with an idea. It was so simple that she didn't understand why she hadn't thought of it before. Smiling now, she set the image aside and went to use the telephone.

"That's it, O'Connell! You're doin' great! You can't hear me anyway, so it wouldn't matter if I said you were a bloody ostrich!" Izzy shook his head and wiped his forehead. On a hot day like this, it was just too much to ask him to look up as O'Connell Jr. flew one of his precious planes all over the blasted sky. Unfortunately, however, Izzy's sense of finance far overruled his sense of personal property, and the O'Connells always paid him well and in advance. It just wasn't fair.

He turned as he heard his telephone ringing, glad of an excuse to stop craning his neck up into the sky. He trudged towards the umbrella, which was shading the ancient, dying telephone. Maybe with this latest payment he would be able to buy a new one. He picked up. "Izzy speaking, what do you want?" "Izzy? This is Evy O'Connell, hello." Izzy rolled his eyes. Another one. Why didn't the whole bloody family just move in with him? "Hello there, Mrs. O'Connell, what can I do for you?" "Well, I'd like to speak with my husband, if he's not too busy." "I'll see if I can get him for you, Mrs. O'Connell." Not too busy, hah, as if O'Connell would spend a moment on the ground in this place. Izzy had bought new planes with his share of Carnahan's diamond. It had been a long fight, but his beauties were worth it, and O'Connell definitely appreciated them.

"Hey!" Izzy shouted at the top of his lungs, running towards the plane and waving his arms. He picked up the bright red signal flag and waved it wildly. "Hey!" he practically screamed, hating O'Connell for making him play messenger-boy. He watched as the plane slowly circled around and came in for a landing. He let the flag drop and jogged over to where Alex and Rick O'Connell were just getting out of the plane. "Don't leave the bloody engine running, O'Connell," he shouted. Rick gave him thumbs-up and turned it off. "Now," Rick said, taking off his headgear, "what was it you wanted?" Izzy sighed lengthily. "Your wife's on the phone for you, O'Connell." Rick raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Evy? I wonder why?" Alex shrugged and went to go look at the other planes, not removing his flying gear. Izzy swore that one day that kid would wake up and that outfit would be glued to him. It was like he never took it off. Rick made his way over to the telephone while Izzy quickly made sure that his beautiful airplane hadn't been damaged by those blasted O'Connells.

"Evy?" "Rick? Hello, darling, how are you?" "I'm just great, Evy, but why'd you call us down?" "Oh, were you flying? I'm sorry, dear… but I have a proposition for you." "Okay, shoot." "I want to go to Egypt tomorrow." "What?" Rick blinked, thinking that perhaps he had misheard. "Egypt, darling. Egypt? You know, pyramids, flesh-eating beetles…" "If you're trying to convince me to go, then you're not doing too great. Why are we going to Egypt?" "I've had nothing to do for the past month. I'm quite bored, Rick, and if it's all right with you, I need a change of scenery. It's not like money is a problem-" "That's not the problem. I'm having a little trouble switching gears here." "Oh, don't worry, Rick, you'll get used to it on the plane, I'm sure."

Plane? Rick's eyes traveled and rested on his son, who was inspecting the propeller of B-32. "Can Alex fly us there?" "Oh, Rick, that's very sweet, but-" "He'd be amply supervised, of course. Izzy's been teaching me to fly, too, and I'm getting pretty good." "Rick, that's not the point, he's only eight years old. No, dear, the plane I was thinking of was one of those new-fangled ones that hold ten people at once. They're absolutely safe- a bit expensive, but that shouldn't stop us… oh, it'd be such fun, Rick!" Hearing the excitement in his wife's voice, Rick knew he couldn't refuse her anything. He also knew that there were a lot of risks to having your eight-year-old fly you in a two-person plane to another continent. It had just been a whimsical thought. He sighed. "All right, honey. Should we come home early to pack?" He asked through his wife's squeal of excitement. "No, darling, I've got it all under control. I'll start right away, you don't have to do a thing." Rick shrugged. "Okay, Evy. I love you." "I love you too, Rick." He smiled and hung up the phone. Making his way over to Alex, he called, "Guess what, son? We're going to Egypt."