"Carefully, CAREFULLY! These figures are being used for display, not as candles!" McPhee called patronisingly across to the deliverymen who, in Effie's opinion, were handling the heavy crates holding the new wax exhibits perfectly fine. They each gave the weighty curator a dark look before resuming the task, going out of there way to stumble and wobble at every opportunity. McPhee threw his hands into the air and stormed into his office with a squeak, and Effie couldn't help but giggle.
"He needs to calm down a little bit," she told Nicky, sitting beside her. "He's going to give himself a heart attack one of these days!"
Nicky nodded silently in agreement, slurping at a Coke. It was his third one that afternoon as he wanted to make sure that he would be fully awake to check out the new arrivals. Effie had already given him the lecture on the damage to his health and blah blah blah but he wasn't too bothered – besides, Effie's habits of skipping meals altogether had to be worse than a few cokes! He could see all of her ribs when she inhaled!
"I think this is all of them." Larry told the pair as he counted out the boxes – seventeen in total. *A/N AT THE bottom.
"Still got one more, man." One of the deliver guys called out – a typical 'dude' if there ever was one. Chin stubble, long hair, and skater-hat on backwards; check! Larry frowned; flipping through the list McPhee had given him, and shook his head.
"No… It says here that we're only getting seventeen figures. There are already seventeen in here."
"Dude, there's definitely another box." The deliveryman replied, assured, before heading back out to wherever the lorry was parked to go and fetch it. Nick and Effie looked at one another and shrugged, before heading over to Larry.
"McPhee said he would make changes, remember?" Nick prompted his Dad, nudging him with an elbow.
"Yeah, but he also said he'd keep me informed."
"I guess he just forgot. He's been really stressy and weird lately."
"Even more than usual," Effie added.
"I guess so," Larry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I was just prepared for the seventeen written down, y'know? We did our research and stuff… now we've got an unknown newbie and next to no time to figure out how to deal with them!"
"You never know – they could be alright." Effie pointed out, and Nicky nodded firmly.
"Yeah, it's probably like Mother Teresa or someone."
"Well here they are," Larry muttered as the crate was brought in, and the trio moved towards it eagerly, looking for the nametag. They each read it in turn before glancing at one another slowly, confusion shining broad on their faces.
"Marie… Laveau? Who is she?" Nick asked, turning towards Effie.
"I have no idea… which could either be a good thing or a very bad thing."
"Good in that most evil people are remembered.' Larry pointed out, visibly relaxing. "Besides, she sounds French. There are no cruel French."
"Um, Robespierre anyone? The Guillotine?"
"Good point. Effie, Nicky - research time."
In the end Nick and Effie discovered that Marie Laveau had been a practitioner of Voodoo and Witchcraft in New Orleans in the 19th century, most famous for her apparent manipulation of a Court with the use of strategically placed charms. Nothing about her seemed too threatening – much to the pair's relief – although they were baffled as to why she would be included in a Civilisations and Leader's exhibit. When they got round to questioning McPhee he had only offered a vague answer;
"Well, you know, we might install a mystic exhibit at some point."
Three hours later and only moments before sunset, Larry, Effie, Nicky and Rebecca were stood nervously in the lobby waiting for the tablet to work it's magic. The crates lay in their original positions but with the lids un-nailed and removed so as to minimise the level of panic that was likely to ensure. Larry hadn't actually wanted Nick and Effie to be present in case something did go down, but they won him over in arguing that he needed all the help he could get. Other exhibits like Teddy, Sacajawea and the Civil War Guys had requested to be moved into strategic positions around the lobby also, so that when the sun finally set there would be even more extra help at hand. Ahkmenrah had wanted to be there also, but Larry had told him firmly that there was 'no way in hell' that they were going to even try to get his sarcophagus downstairs. Nobody had particularly wanted to be responsible for the dangers of moving such a delicate artefact as Ahk's remains either. Instead, he had promised to race down as soon as he could.
"Just under a minute, guys. Get ready,' Larry told the others solemnly, shifting his position slightly so as to keep the youngsters behind him. Rebecca did the same. The group watched with baited breaths as the last of the sunlight filtered through the great stain-glass windows above the door, before fading slowly and then out.
Almost instantly the wooden crates began to rock and shake in turn, and with multiple showers of polystyrene peanuts and splintered pieces of wood, their contents began to emerge.
The first exhibit to make herself shown was the Empress Theodora. She sat up and glanced around quickly and apprehensively, before struggling to her feet under a sea of the scarlet velvet and silk. A small ceremonial crown sat perched on top of well-oiled ringlets of the darkest brown – an ornate and thick band of gold with a red velvet dome on top, finished off with a Royal seal of gold protruding from the tip on a short rod. Two strings of bead like gems fell over her shoulders from either side of the crown, with a mixture of pearl, gold and some unidentifiable blue stone. Her attire itself was impressive; a great curtain of red velvet with gold thread trimming at the foot, a thick collar of gold and even more gems hanging just above her breasts. Her light blue gaze was clear yet watchful as it fell on the group of four with a wary confusion.
Three more exhibits made themselves apparent next, and Effie hazarded a guess at the identification of Fatih Sultan Mehmed II – a personal historical interest of hers – made distinguishable by the ornate Tugra, or signature, stitched across his chest, Mao Zedong – quiet and watchful in his simple oriental attire, and Isabella of Castile and Aragon with her reddish blonde hair and pale complexion that Effie had read about.
One by one, the others emerged – each of them as wary and afraid as the next. The only exceptions that seemed unperturbed were those of Lenin and Queen Elizabeth the First, with the first wandering around with a kind of intrigued enthusiasm and the latter remaining both regal and composed with high shoulders and a firm set of the lips. Xeres was the only one to create an initial stir – thrashing and yelling wildly in his confusion until a few of the Civil War Guys had him locked still, and Larry was surprised at how well the initial shock had gone down with the group.
"Is that all of them?" Nicky muttered quietly, and Effie shook her head.
"No – someone is missing."
They were suddenly interrupted by a muffled thud from the far side of the lobby, and everyone craned their necks to find one unopened crate remaining, the occupant clearly struggling with his escape. Larry and the others hurried over quickly, with Teddy on their heels, and the night guard quickly pulled the lid up with a small grunt.
The others were greeted with the sight of a very flustered and pink-cheeked Winston Churchill, former Prime Minister of Great Britain and icon of England's Second World War memories.
"Help me out of here, will you? It's rather tight for me, I'm afraid!" He boomed, holding out a thick hand, and Larry grabbed it quickly and gave it a pull. Churchill was enormous, of course, but Larry tried his best to conceal the obvious strain of helping the character to his feet. Once he had managed, the Prime Minister stepped awkwardly out of the crate, before brushing his dark suit down briskly and glancing around with a baffled twist of the head.
"Where am I?" He demanded, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and mopping his brow with one hand, the other reaching for a small metal flask in his trouser pocket that he was disappointed to find empty.
"You're in a museum, Mr. Churchill," Effie answered for him, and he glanced at her quickly. "In the United States of America."
"The United States?" He boomed, looking around again. "What the bloody hell am I doing here?"
"It's awfully hard to explain," Effie began again, but he cut her off quickly.
"You're not a Yank, are you? You sound like you're from home!"
"I'm English, yes."
"What are you doing here? Did we come together?"
"No-"
"Mr uh, Churchill?" Larry interrupted. "If you wait for a few minutes we'll tell everyone what's going on, okay?"
"Who are you?"
"I'll mention that too."
"Well hurry up with then, old boy! We're all getting rather impatient!"
"Right, everybody listen up!" Larry shouted out to the group, trying to emit a confidence that he didn't think he had. The exhibits all turned to him – a few in recognition of the language, but most just at the sound of his voice. "For those of you who understand me – and I don't think many of you do – welcome to this Museum. In the United States. Or the Americas. Does anybody know of the Americas?" He was greeted by a few mumbles. "Okay, put your hand in the air if you have heard of the Americas before!"
Lenin's hand was the first to shoot up, and Mao's followed shortly after. Queen Elizabeth the first raised hers slowly – as if she were unsure of the action – as did Napoleon, Otto Von Bismarck, Churchill, and Marie Laveau. Isabella of Castile looked as if she were listening attentively, with a faint glimmer of recognition. Effie guessed that language would prove a problem with most.
"Uh, good! Very… very good!" Larry called out slowly, before turning to Rebecca and hissing, "They don't know what the hell I'm saying!"
"Effie, what languages do you speak?" Nicky asked her, and she shook her head slowly.
"Not many very well." She answered, before glancing at the group. "I've learned French for a while, and a bit of Russian, but not much else."
"I did Spanish as a child," Rebecca jumped in, "So maybe I could help with Isabella?"
"It depends how much the language has changed since then. I mean, I think I could understand Queen Elizabeth the first, and she in turn could understand me, but it wont be easy."
"Ahkmenrah might be able to help with Ramses over there," Larry nodded towards the Pharaoh, who had remained silent and unmoving throughout the exchange. "But again, that will depend on language development. When did Ahk say he reined?"
"He didn't."
"Oh."
"We can still ask him." Rebecca pointed out, and the others nodded in agreement.
"But what do we do about the others?"
Nobody had an answer to this, and so they all remained quiet.
"I guess they might just pick it up in time." Larry shrugged, glancing around again. "Sacajawea did it, and so did a few others. It'll just take time."
"Haven't you mentioned that Mehmed guy to me before?" Nicky suddenly asked Effie, and she nodded. "Well then if you know so much about him, don't you know anything in his language?"
"Not really, Nicky. I only know a few words in Turkish, but Modern Turkish doesn't have much in common with Ottoman Turkish anyway."
"Oh." His shoulders slumped.
"Well for now we better just get stuff moving, you know?" Larry began lamely, noticing the impatient and increasingly hostile expressions of the newcomers. "Before we have a war or anything."
"How are we going to do this, guys?" Rebecca sighed, rubbing a hand across her head. "We can't even tell most of them where to go and what not. We can't even warn them about going outside!"
"Don't worry, Lady." Teddy reassured her. "Myself and a few of our faceless friends here will keep guard by the entrance. My best advice would be to talk to those you can, and gather all those who can help. Find the young Pharaoh – wherever he has got to – and introduce him to his countryman over there. As for the rest," he shrugged, before pulling himself back up onto his horse. "Treat it like it's a challenge."
The others watched as he rode forward, calling out directions to those who understood and pulling the older exhibits into action. Larry sighed and ran over to help, followed shortly by Rebecca, who immediately began to attempt conversation with the worried looking Queen of Castile. Nicky and Effie stood where they were, watching motionlessly. Effie felt her head begin to ache with the enormity of the task that followed.
A sudden tap on her shoulder had her turning around, and she found herself facing Winston Churchill once again, his expression one of ruddy encouragement.
"Now don't give up already, young Lady. We're British – that's not what we do. Do you know what our motto was during the war, when those bloody Fritz* were bombing our back gardens?"
Effie shook her head.
"'Keep Calm, and Carry On,' young Lady. We've faced harder challenges than this. Now go on and find this Egyptian fellow of yours! All the help we need!"
"Come on," Nicky grabbed her hand, and with a last wink in her direction and a tip of his hat, Churchill marched off to where the action was and clapped his hand on the shoulders of a stunned looking Ramses the Great.
YES it has been forever since I updated. And for that I offer my most humble of apologies. Life has not been easy, you see. I didn't have Internet for a few weeks, actually, as I was on a research trip in Istanbul for my essay of Fatih Sultan Mehmed II! I also had to break up with that boyfriend I mentioned, and a whole lot of other things as coursework deadlines approach me. Ah well.
*Fritz, was a term jokingly used to refer to the Germans by the British during World War 2. Especially during the bombings of London, or the Blitz.
I ALSO ADDED CHURCHILL TO THE LIST DESPITE THE FACT HE WAS NOT IN THE LAST CHAPTER SIMPLY BECAUSE I WAS DYING TO USE HIM!
Thank you everybody, and review shoutouts will start again next chapter.
IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT MY OTHER STORY; THE SOUND OF MUSIC.
I have had to cancel it, unfortunately, in relation to current events in the Middle East and of course, in Egypt. Now I know that sounds odd but the story was going to link in with Mubarak's government and corruption etc, and because that government is now gone - something I didn't predict and wouldn't include in my story, that is now impossible.
I didn't much like the story anyway, so no great loss. I am, however, incredibly proud of the Middle East at the moment, as having lived here my whole life it is nice to see people standing up and asking to be heard for once. Lets just hope that madman Gadaffi goes next!
Rage
xxxx