Chapter 10
Patience makes the man, Dr. Davis sighed to himself as he crouched down behind a garbage can- far too close to it for comfort. He repeated this mental mantra as he stalked his quarry, a lone gentleman who proved rather oblivious to his surroundings. Up until that point, Mr. Harris had been surrounded by far too many potential witnesses for his pursuer to do anything. Mr. Davis was all for efficiency: no witnesses, no need for unnecessary violence. Luckily for him, his patience paid off when Mr. Harris ducked over in a deserted alley to pick up a tin can.
Mr. Harris never sensed the shadows parting behind him. He never got the chance to face the man standing over him with a lethal, lead pipe.
It was over quickly.
Swiftly, Mr. Davis snatched off his own amulet and switched it with his victim's crucifix. In a split second, his own form was on the ground, and to all the world, it was Mr. Harris who was walking away.
"My studies in Egyptology paid off," he smirked.
Ahkmenrah sighed, shuddering off another nightmare. First the flashback, now more fire and fear. What was going on? For once, he longed for the peaceful nothingness that marked his typical days. Regardless, it was time to attend other matters.
Admittedly, ever since his therapy sessions had begun, he'd failed to fulfill his resolution of unlocking his tablet's secrets. He had progressed no further on how it worked beyond the simple incantation of summoning the museum's inhabitants. For a while, he hoped that something would spark (so to speak), but after the lion incident, the tablet had done nothing else remarkable. Night after night, it hung on his wall mimicking the golden ornament the patrons took for granted.
It was time for that to end. Over time, he'd reasoned there was nothing to fear, that his tablet was not dangerous, and any legends that it was were foolish superstitions instigated by a handful of cowardly guards. Sometimes he found himself wondering about it, but for the most part he'd convinced himself there wasn't much more to uncover. However, what Larry had told him about Kahmunrah's remarks had reignited his curiosity- if its remarkable ability of bringing the museum's inhabitants (including himself) to life nightly was only 'a parlor trick,' what else was it capable of? Surely it was worth investigating again, especially if there was a threat emerging.
Therapy wasn't the only reason he'd avoided dealing with the tablet. Each time he looked at it, his heart clenched as he recalled everything his father had refused to teach him. Only when he was suffering from his fatal illness's first symptoms did Merenkahre deem it appropriate to even tell his son about the tablet's existence; by the time he was willing to reveal a single incantation, he was practically on his deathbed. If only...
He'd need help. Normally, he would ask Teddy, but the president was busy helping Larry train the new janitor. He looked forward to meeting Mr. Harris- the guardian had described him as a warm, friendly gentleman with an upbeat personality. He'd make a welcome change from Gus, Reginald, and Cecil; personally, he'd never trusted those three after they'd tried stealing his heirloom and framing Larry.
McKenzie burst in, her carrier bag bulging more than usual. Could bags get pregnant? Lately he suspected hers was- each time she visited, it got heavier. "Hello Ahk! Since we've decided to be friends and all, I thought we could try a few ice breakers!" She enthusiastically dumped her bag out onto the table. Every game imaginable tumbled out, from "Uno" to "Battleship" to "Risk". Ahkmenrah enthusiastically grabbed one of the two games he recognized, "Battleship".
"Shall we?"
"Very well, but you've signed your own doom; I happen to be a master at this game."
"We shall see."
Twenty minutes later, the two of them were staring intently at their separate grids. They were so into it, McKenzie almost forgot to speak- which was a main reason she was there, to get him to open up more- but after sinking a couple of his ships, she returned to her senses. "Sooo, have your night terrors diminished?"
Accidentally knocking the wrong peg off, Ahkmenrah sighed. "No, they continue to plague me."
"Have you tried anything to rectify them?"
Ahkmenrah shifted mildly guiltily. "If you are referring to those breathing exercises you assigned me, then no, I suppose not."
"Do you even know what's causing them?"
He barked a laugh. "That remains a mystery as well."
More strategy, just not the kind McKenzie hoped to accomplish. "Well, where would you like to start with this?"
"What is 'this'?"
"Figuring out what's troubling you! What's triggering your nightmares! You still haven't told me what even occurs in them!" Aggravated, she cupped her forehead on the table and leaned on her elbow, her fury spent. "We're friends now, right? Friends communicate! They divulge stuff to each other! Why won't you try with me? Start with the dreams."
Sighing, he collected his third war ship before responding. "Do you know what the most frustrating part of my visions is? No matter how frequently I endure them, how awful are, the most terrifying element is I still do not know what they mean, what menace they are warning me against. So I am powerless to fight it."
"So you believe they're prophetic, then? B-7."
"Perhaps. Strange, is it not?"
"Says the ancient Egyptian pharaoh who resides in a magical museum," she teased.
He chuckled. "Fair point."
"Anyhow, I suppose it's an idea- them being prophetic, I mean. With all this magic, why not? A-4."
Ahkmenrah inserted a red peg into one of his ships. "Impressive. Where did you learn to play like this?"
"My brothers can be highly competitive. Where did you learn it from? Surely they didn't play this in your time."
"The Guardian's son taught me." He didn't add that he beat almost anyone who played against him- that would have been boasting.
"You mean Larry? Why do you call him that?"
Ahkmenrah shrugged. "It was the title I bestowed upon him when he freed me. He guards all of us, protecting us from the outside world and any dangers. What else would I call him?"
"I suppose it's a fitting title." She'd never thought about it before, but Larry did protect the museum's exhibits. Good thing, too- she did not want to think about what the government might want to do with them!
As if summoned, Larry bounded in. "Ahk, McKenzie, mind helping me hang up these streamers? Jed and Octavius volunteered, but the last time I left them in charge, Dexter ended up helping the Neanderthals redecorate the Huns' territory with the fire extinguishers."
At McKenzie's quizzical expression, Ahkmenrah whispered, "Please do not ask."
Mr. Harris's first impression was fairly favorable. He was tall- half a head taller than Larry- and reasonable looking, slightly wizened with graying hair at his dark brown temples. His wire-rimmed, silver glasses daintily rimmed his eyes, and he smiled a perfectly gracious, humble smile. He even bowed to Teddy and Larry, as if displaying his admiration and respect for their work. He was everything their guardian had assured them he would be. All of these qualities should have put the pharaoh at ease.
They didn't.
While the others smiled and offered their welcomes, Ahkmenrah hung apart, uncertain as to why. For all his poise and modesty, there was something off about Mr. Harris. Something he distrusted.
Watch him like the eye of Horus.
Unbidden, this thought flitted through his mind as he approached the new janitor. He offered up his hand, and was almost physically shocked by the contact from the man's calloused, weathered palm.
"Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King, Ruler of the Land of My Fathers."
Mr. Harris smiled, looking remarkably unflustered by the mouth-filling title. "Pleasure to meet you, pharaoh. Heard quite a bit about you, young man! And please, call me George."
To his own chagrin, Ahkmenrah blushed. "Yes, Mr. Har- Geor- Sir." Why was it a single phrase could cause him to turn burgundy?
He saw Larry drawing Harris aside and whispering to him, nodding his head none too subtly in his direction with the words shy and been through a lot. His crimson shade deepened as he turned away. Would he ever be able to outlive his past? True, he had endured much, but he was doing his best to move forward like everyone else. Did they truly believe he was too fragile for them to speak plainly before him? Sighing, he stared at McKenzie laughing over punch, a constant reminder of what they feared about his mental state.
Maybe they were right.
Well, things took a darker turn than I thought they would, but so the story unfolds... Until the next chapter, lovely readers! Thank you so much to all of you who commented!
VibeQuake: In case you're still reading this, sorry about the beginning. And thank you SO much for all of those awesome reviews, you never fail to make me laugh with them! If he were still around, I'd almost pity Joseph... Almost.
Wanli8970: If I say anything more, I'll probably accidentally spoil something, so mum is the word. Lol Am curios to hear what you think about this chapter!
the electric phantom: We shall see if I continue surprising you. ;)
LadyofStarClan: I'm screaming along with you! Lol
