Chapter 2

"So Larry, what was so important you had to drag me away from a very important meeting all the way out here for?" McPhee demanded, slamming down his suitcase on his desk.

"I'm sorry sir, but I really had to talk to you," Larry insisted, clearly agitated.

"Well, go on then, spit it out!"

I would if you stopped interrupting! This was the fifth time the man had stopped him mid-sentence. "Look, I need a favor. One of the actors-"

"Which one?"

"The pharaoh. He's been through a lot of stuff recently, and I wondered if you'd let me pull him out of work for a few days, get him some counseling. Maybe there's someone you could recommend, or?.." For the umpteenth time, he considered blurting out everything to McPhee, but decided against it. He worked here, and even he realized how insane it all sounded at times.

"Well, he's your pharaoh, you're in charge of him, right? Why are you asking me for permission?"

"I just figured since it would probably affect our profits temporarily-"

"Is he mad?"

"What? No! He just needs a little therapy, you know, PTSD and all that." The museum curator was now squinting at him rather oddly, as if checking for any glitches.

"You know Larry, sometimes I fear you're the one who needs therapy." He's probably right. "By all means, give your pharaoh as much time as he needs. And as it happens, I do know someone who can help." He paused dramatically. "My niece." His chest swelled with pride as he gazed at his employee expectantly.

"Your niece."

"Yes. She's a transfer student, trying to transfer from Cambridge, majoring in psychology."

"Um, I'm sure she's wonderful, sir, and very talented in her field, but I was thinking along the line of seasoned professionals?"

"I know, I'm brilliant! No need to thank me. Actually, you're doing me a favor, I promised I'd help her find an internship and you just gave me one! Healing the broken mind of a famous actor, brilliant! That will get her into Oxford for sure!"

"He's not exactly famous..." Well, he kind of was, just not in the way McPhee was thinking.

"Nonsense. So Larry, if I do this favor for you, you'll write an outstanding letter of recommendation for my niece? For Oxford? I know you've got some 'pull' now," McPhee said, winking and nudging his shoulder conspiratorially.

Larry stood there gaping. How had this conversation gotten so far out of hand? Now he was supposed to help a college student transfer into Oxford?! "Sure, you know what? Why not. I'll write her a letter if she knows what she's doing. If she helps Ahk."

"Deal." They shook hands, each surprised by the other's firm grip. "I"ll bring her here tomorrow evening." With that, the curator shooed Larry out of his office, saying, "Now go, I have a few very annoyed council members to appease, if you don't mind. What gives you the right to barge in on my time like this?"

The following night, Larry met with both McPhees, trying not to be disappointed by what he saw in the girl. She looked to be around the pharaoh's age ( around eighteen or twenty, though he supposed she could have been a bit older) and rather plump, though she had a pretty face and a clear complexion. In truth, she was a younger, female version of her uncle, complete with the dull-colored, scholarly clothing and blank facial expression. This is the person who's gonna help Ahk? He thought as they shook hands. Even their mannerisms were the same, as she spoke in a similar monotone to McPhee's. Oh well- as Teddy would say, don't judge a book by its cover. Might as well give her a chance. Putting on a cheerful, professional air, he said, "Welcome to the Museum of Natural History!"

"I work here, Larry- I don't need an introduction!"

"Yes, I know, sir, I was welcoming your niece."

McPhee still looked like he was questioning the night guard's sanity, while the girl remained silent, staring down at her toes. Trying to dispel the awkward air, Larry cleared his throat. "Well, I hope you'll enjoy your time here, Miss-"

"McKenzie."

"Mckenzie. Welcome."

"Thank you, Mr. Daley, but we might as well get down to business, shall we? We both now I'm not here on holiday," she said, staring him down through her glasses. Yep, she's every inch a McPhee, Larry groaned inwardly. He liked his boss, as far as bosses went- the guy had given him several chances, after all, despite the extraordinary mishaps he'd suffered early in his career. Unfortunately, McPhee didn't strike him as a particularly empathetic character- if his niece was like him that way, Ahk might need additional counseling after she was done with him!

"Right, well. Sir, could I please have a word with your niece in private?"

"Of course, Larry, I was about to head off anyway. Errands to run, you know, and I understand there will be details you need to hash out, client-patient privacy and all."

"Privilege," McKenzie corrected.

"That's what I said, dove. Be good now, Minerva, and call me the minute you feel ill-used! Actually call me in the next five minutes, you never know," he added, hugging her briefly before looking her up-and-down, as if making sure she wasn't already being overworked. The two of them exchanged a look of such tender intimacy that Larry felt like he was intruding on a private family reunion. He'd never seen such an expression on McPhee's face- it softened his features from stern professor to loving uncle in such a way that made him unrecognizable. Kissing her cheek, McPhee finally left.

"Farewell, uncle," she murmured. For a second, she looked so lost and forlorn that Larry had to resist the fatherly impulse to hug her. Instead, he put his business persona back on as he addressed her. "Shall we?" The girl immediately straightened up and smartly followed him on his brief tour.

"So, how much did your uncle tell you about this assignment?"

"Only that I was to counsel one of your actors here in this museum. Might I add, Mr. Daley, that it does not exactly bode well that one of your actors is already suffering from possible PTSD so soon after starting work? If I find anything unsavory about working conditions here, I will have to report it." She lowered her glasses over her nose for emphasis.

"I'll keep that in mind. It has nothing to do with his job, though something did happen a couple of nights ago," he trailed off when he saw her carefully neutral expression. "Before we go on, I'll need you to sign this," he shoved a sheet of paper and pen into her hands.

She read through it quickly and did the last thing he expected- she laughed. "'And not to divulge the secret of the Tablet or its magic to anyone outside this museum.' What exactly is this, a prank? Quite good, though the wording could sound a tad more professional."

"Trust me, it's not a joke."

"What, you're claiming everything here, withing this building, really comes to life?"

"Yep."

She blinked at him for a few seconds before realizing he wasn't kidding. "Are you serious? That's an incredible statement! I'm beginning to suspect my uncle was right- you're the one who needs therapy."

Mildly annoyed by the last comment, he nevertheless couldn't blame her skepticism- he'd probably have reacted similarly if Cecil had told him during his interview. "Since you already think I'm crazy, might as well just show you. Get ready in three... Two... One!"

On cue, Rexy came to life in front of them. As they heard the customary shouts and roars of the inhabitants awakening, Larry observed McKenzie's confident skepticism melt into shock, then uncertainty. Yet far from shrinking away from the dinosaur, she cautiously approached his stand, looking for something. "All right, you had me there for a moment. However, I know the Night Program depends on animatronics, so where's the switch you used to turn it on? Or did you use a remote to activate it?" She looked up to see the night guard grinning.

"He's not animatronic. Rexy is a real live- well, dead- dinosaur."

"But the special effects!-"

"Are a lie. There are no special effects, McKenzie. Everything, everyone is real."

"That's absurd. There's no such thing as magic!" Despite the words, Larry could see the doubt sinking into her eyes.

"There is! Really, I promise you, magic is real, and history actually comes to life here at night. I'm not trying to prank you, or trick you, or anything like that."

For a few agonizing minutes, the two humans stared each other off- McKenzie trying to come to grips with what she'd just heard, and Larry worrying she was about to go running to her uncle. Fortunately, Rexy settled things for them by gently, playfully nudging McKenzie, almost knocking her over. Hesitantly, she petted his snout; somehow, the sensation of fossilized bone beneath her palm convinced her the night guard was telling the truth. There was no way that was fake. "Clever, Mr. Daley, covering up the magic with actors and special effects," she said, gazing into Rexy's hollow eye sockets.

"Well, it was that or have all of my friends shipped off to the Smithsonian archives. Another story," he added, noting her bewildered expression. Reluctantly, he separated Rexy from his new human friend. "It's time to meet your new client, Ms. McPhee."

Fifteen minutes later, McKenzie waited patiently in the night guard's lounge area. Teddy was keeping her company, having introduced himself and fetched her a lovely warm cup of tea. My first client, finally, she thought. This was going to be fascinating. She quietly observed Larry return with a young man, obviously the pharaoh with his Ancient Egyptian garb. The night guard smiled at her. "Hey there! I take it Teddy has made you comfortable? Signed your contract?" The young lady nodded and stood, ready to shake hands with her client. "Great. Ahk, meet your..." To his astonishment, Ahkmenrah had stopped stone dead a few feet behind him, staring at the therapist coldly. "Ahk, what?-"

"No. I am sorry, Guardian, but not her." Before anyone could bat an eye, he left.

Far from being discouraged, McKenzie took off and cleaned her glasses. "Well, that was revealing."

"I am so sorry, McKenzie, he's usually very polite-"

"Nonsense! He's obviously suffering from some sort of shock or trauma- my presence merely agitated it. You were right, he seems to have some PTSD." Putting her glasses back on, she finished, "This will be fun."


What McKenzie hadn't told to Mr. Daley was that this was her very first patient. Ever. As such, she was eager to puzzle the pharaoh out, to figure out what made him tick, so to speak. She was, if anything, as anxious as the young man himself must be. This was her big moment, her chance to get accepted into Oxford. She wasn't about to let some spoiled, traumatized actor ruin that for her. Pharaoh, not actor. For God's sake, keep it together! She was still wrapping her head around the fact that this was all real, that the 'people' here were not, in fact, actors, but the true historical figures they supposedly represented. Or were they the historical figures, if most were made of wax? It was all rather confusing.

Mentally overhauling herself by deciding to stow away such questions until after her first session, McKenzie marched towards the pharaoh's tomb. Unfortunately she didn't get very far- she wound up screaming and ducking under a bench when two giant spears crossed over the exit. It would have been considerate of Mr. Daley to bloody hell warn her about those Anubis statues! Was she supposed to worry about avoiding getting impaled, or about her patient's mental health?

A loud, brusque voice from withing the tomb called off the guards. Straightening out her now rumpled clothes and doing her best to regain her dignity, the girl entered the pharaoh's domain.


Say hello to McKenzie, everyone! My second ever human OC. I hope you'll all make her feel welcome. :)

the electric phantom: Glad to hear from you again!

VibeQuake: I truly look forward to your comments. You'd have my permission to drown Joseph if he were in this story. Of course, if you ever did feature him in one of your own stories, well... I'd be curious to know what you'd do to him lol. :D

Guest: I'm equally excited to write this story!

Everyone else: please fasten your seat belts and enjoy the ride!