Drugs, Neanderthals and Snowmen
I've got a feeling that the drugs may be kicking in.
I need to back track a little at this point to provide relevant history. I'm sure some of my older readers will remember the issues I had with my old toilet (although if you're a lot older you may have issues remembering that and other things - like your name, who's running the country, where the keys are and how do you put your pants on). I remember clearly the mornings spent bent over it with a piece of wire and a plunger trying desperately not to look at or smell the toxic brew that I was dabbling in.
Well, those days are long gone thanks to a lovely new loo. But our new loo has two little drawbacks. First - it is lower which, in a household of tall males with aiming issues can cause some drippage. Second - it has a much narrower outlet hole. This makes it hard to get a swoosh (I'm using basketball terms so-as not to be too graphic for those eating their breakfasts) with number twos - I think you all know what I mean. And this means that I'm back, bent over the toilet with a brush trying to keep it in 'just new' condition - just in case we need to pawn it.
Just the other day Sam went to use the facilities when I heard him cry out in disgust. When I asked him what was wrong he told me that the seat was wet. Oh yes! I had finally managed it - I'd wet the toilet seat (albeit with the toilet brush). Revenge for all the times I've sat down without looking and risen knowing exactly what I'd sat in. Only real men wet the toilet seat, don't they?!!
I've spent some more time researching my condition - because I've really got nothing better to do except 52 leotards and 4 rhythmic costumes. I found this great forum called Yasmin and Yaz Survivors. If the word 'survivor' is in the title you know that it's probably a drug that you shouldn't be touching. Really wish I'd investigated further two years ago when the doctor prescribed Yaz to me. The information was all out back then. Personal stories which are just like mine - deteriorating health, baffling symptoms, multiple doctors visits and all the while feeling like you're becoming a hypochondriac.
I've gone against the advice of the gynaecologist and stopped taking the pill. She didn't want me to make two changes at once but I just couldn't continue to put that drug into my mouth knowing what it's done to me and being absolutely convinced that I won't start to get better until it's out of my system. She's just going to have to live with my decision - when I finally tell her. I figure that we'll be taking a few blood tests to check on my hormone levels anyway so being off Yaz may actually help stabilise my levels quicker and the tests will give us a heads up if anything's going wrong.
I've become a little less trusting about doctor's opinions through this ordeal. They don't know everything - especially about newer drugs. They're just going on the information given to them by the drug reps and the drug reps are just trying to sell their product.
Do I sound cynical?
Today I've had the pleasure of my favourite Neanderthal workman back working in the neighbour's yard. Apparently he's not that great a craftsman and had to take down the vertical beam that he'd put up because it wasn't straight. There's been lots of swearing and exclamations of frustration - my favorite being 'you fu#@ing a$$hole' directed at himself. I agreed with him out my window, safe in the knowledge that he was wearing earmuffs. How brave was that?!
Finally, I wanted to give a graphic demonstration of how hot it's been here over the last couple of days. 
No, I'm not dreaming of a white Christmas.
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Goosebumps (R) Series 2000 No. 16 THE MUMMY WALKS by R.l. STINE Copyright 1999 by Parachute Press, Inc.BOOK JACKET INFORMATION Goosebumps No. 16 APPLE FICTION One small step for mummy ... Welcome to the new millennium of fear Goosebumps (R) SERIES 2000 I didn't see a flight attendant as I stepped into the plane. But my seat was easy to find. It was the very first seat in the front row of the first-class section. I fiddled with the seat belt. Then I remembered the envelope my mom had given me. Did my mom and dad write me a letter? I tore open the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper. My heart skipped a beat as I gazed in shock at the short message: WE ARE NOT YOUR PARENTS. SCHOLASTIC INC. RL4 008-012THE MUMMY WALKS&You'll be fine, Michael,& Mom said. Itwas the hundredth time she said it! We walked past the lines of people in front of the ticket counters. Everyone in the airport seemed to be in a desperate hurry. I watched a young couple run toward the gates. Their suitcases bounced on tiny wheels behind them. A man and woman stood near the security station, pawing through their carry-on bags, arguing loudly. &I thought you had the tickets. I gave them to you this morning!& &No. You idiot--I told you to bring them!& As Mom, Dad, and I hurried past, I saw a little girl sitting on top of a stack of suitcases, crying. Her parents were pleading with her, begging her to stop. Dad carried my canvas duffel bag. He turned to talk to me--and stumbled over a luggage cart. I laughed. Dad looked so funny. Why did everyone have to be so tense? Dad dropped my duffel bag onto the conveyor belt. We walked through the security gate. Dad set off the buzzer. Rolling his eyes, he took his keys from his pocket and tried again. This time he made it through. I watched my bag on the TV screen. When it went through the X ray, I could see everything in the bag. It was totally cool! He picked up my bag, and we walked down the long hall to the gate. Mom and Dad were walking so fast, I had to jog to keep up. &Aunt Sandra will be there to meet you in Orlando,& Mom said. &You'll see her as soon as you get off the plane.& &I know, I know,& I groaned. How many times had we gone over this plan? At least a thousand! I'd spent the last two weeks thinking about all the things I wanted to do in Orlando. Of course, Disney World was at the top of the list. But I wanted to spend a lot of time at Sea World too. I'm really into fish and life under the sea. When Mom and Dad took me snorkeling in the Bahamas last summer, I totally freaked. I mean, there's this whole beautiful world down there with all these amazing creatures! It was like traveling to another planet. Dad says I'd make a good astronaut. He says I'm a real explorer. And he's right. I love going to new places, discovering new things. So why are they making such a big deal about me flying to Orlando by myself? We reached the gate. Dad set down the bag. He glanced nervously at his watch. Mom squeezed my arm. &Don't worry,& she said. &I'm not worrying!& I insisted. &What is your problem? I'm twelve years old, you know!& Mom and Dad exchanged glances. Mom bit her bottom lip. She had already chewed all her lipstick off. &Last boarding call for Flight 501to Pittsburgh,& a woman's voice blared on the loudspeaker. &Flight 501 is boarding through Gate 45.& &You've never flown by yourself before,& Dad said. &We've always been with you.& &I'm not worried,& I assured them again. &It's not too hard. I just sit in my seat, and in a couple of hours I'll be in Orlando.& I laughed. &The pilots have to do all the work. Not me.& Mom and Dad didn't laugh. &You're sitting in First Class,& Mom said. &So you'll be comfortable.& &That's cool,& I replied. &This guy at school told me they serve ice cream sundaes in First Class.& &Maybe,& Dad said, glancing at his watch again. He raised his eyes to the gate. &Time for you to board.& Mom let out a little cry and wrapped her arms around me. &Have a good, safe trip, Michael,& she whispered, pressing her cheek against mine. When she pulled back, I saw that she had tears in her eyes. Dad hugged me too. He cleared his throat, but he didn't say anything. &I'll be fine,& I told them again. &I'll call you from Aunt Sandra's.& Mom handed me a white envelope. Dad picked up my duffel bag and walked me up to the gate. &You're in seat 1-A,& he told me. He gave me the duffel bag and patted me on the shoulder. I turned and waved to them. Mom was wiping tears off her cheeks with both hands. &I'll be fine. Really!& I called to her. Then I turned and headed down the boarding tunnel to the plane. Wow, I thought. Why are they so weird? Am I the first kid in history to fly to Orlando by himself? I didn't see any flight attendants as I stepped into the plane. But my seat was easy to find. It was the very first seat in the front row of the First Class section. I jammed my duffel bag into the overhead compartment. Then I dropped into the seat. Wow. Comfortable. I'm going to enjoy this, I decided. I leaned into the aisle, searching for a flight attendant. I wanted to ask if they were going to show a movie. No one there yet. I fiddled with the seatbelt, trying to loosen it. Finally, I got it right and clicked it into place. I settled back against the soft leather seat. And remembered the envelope my mom had given me. I had jammed it into my jeans pocket. I pulled it out and studied it. A plain white envelope. Was it a letter? Did Mom and Dad write me a note or something? I tore the envelope open and pulled out a sheet of paper. I unfolded it, brought it close to my face --and my heart skipped a beat as I gazed in shock at the short message:WE ARE NOT YOUR PARENTS.&Huh?& I gripped the paper between my two hands and stared at the words until they blurred. &This is a joke--right?& I murmured to myself. Mom and Dad were always teasing me because I don't look like them. They're both tall and blond. And I have dark-brown hair and brown eyes, and I'm kind of short and kind of chubby. But this was a very strange joke. I read the short note again. Then I read it out loud: &We are not your parents.& It was written in blue ink in a large, looping script. My dad's handwriting. I realized that my hands were suddenly trembling. I folded up the note and shoved it into my pocket. &Weird,& I muttered. &Weird.& Why would Mom and Dad write that? What does it mean? &We are not your parents.& If it was a joke, I didn't get it. I'll ask Aunt Sandra about it, I decided. Or maybe I'll call Mom and Dad as soon as I get to Orlando and ask them what it meant. &We are not your parents.& My stomach felt a little queasy. My heart fluttered. I leaned into the aisle again. Still no flight attendants. I raised myself in the seat and glanced around the cabin. No one else in First Class. I counted four rows of empty gray seats. Am I the only one flying First Class? I wondered. Orlando is a popular place. Where is everyone? My throat suddenly felt dry. I wanted a glass of water. But there was no one to ask. I unclasped the seatbelt, let the belt drop to the cushion, and stood up. The floor vibrated beneath me. I could hear the engine warming up. A heavy red curtain separated First Class from Coach. I made my way to the curtain and pushed it aside. I poked my head into the Coach cabin. Shafts of sunlight poured through the double rows of windows. Empty. No one there. No one. &Hey--& I called out, squeezing the curtain in my hand. &Hey--anyone here?& My voice sounded tiny in the big, empty cabin. The rumble and whine of the jet engine was the only other sound. &Hey--& I let the curtain drop back into place and turned back to the front. &Anybody here?& I called. &What's going on?& Silence.No sign of anyone. There's some mistake, I decided. I'm on the wrong plane or something. I've got to get off this plane. I reached up and started to tug my duffel bag from the overhead bin. I was still tugging when I heard a loud, scraping sound--then a WHOOSH of air. I gasped as the airplane door slammed shut. &Wait! Let me out of here!& I cried. &Let me out!&I dropped my bag and lurched to the door. &Let me out!& I cried again, shouting over the roar of the engine. &Hey--somebody!& I pounded on the door. And fell back against the bathroom as the plane began to move. We're backing up, I realized. Backing away from the gate. &No, wait!& I screamed. I spun toward the cockpit door. I have to tell the pilot that no one else is onboard, I decided. I have to make him stop the plane! It's a mistake. A big mistake! I knocked on the door, softly at first. Then harder. &Hey--& I called in. &You've got to stop! There's no one here! Hey--can you hear me?& No reply. I pressed a hand against the wall to steady myself as the plane turned, backing up. &Can you hear me?& I shrieked. &I'm all alone back here!& My dry throat ached from screaming. I swallowed hard. Took a deep breath. And then pounded with both fists on the cockpit door. &Listen to me! Stop the plane! Stop it!& No reply. Not a sound. Someone has to be in there, I knew. Someone is piloting this plane. I grabbed the cockpit door handle. Frantically tried to pull it open. The door wouldn't budge. I leaned my shoulder against it. Tried to push it open. No. Was it locked? Why would the pilots lock themselves inside? My heart thudded in my chest. I swallowed again, my throat as dry and scratchy as steel wool. &Please!& I called in to the cockpit. &Why won't you listen to me?& The plane lurched and I tumbled against the bathroom door again. As I pulled myself up, I heard a loudspeaker crackle to life. &Please take your seat for takeoff.& A man's voice. &No! You don't understand!& I wailed. I pounded again on the cockpit door. &There's beena mistake!& Loud static made me cover my ears. Then through the static, the man's voice repeated his order: &Please take your seat. We cannot take off until you are in your seat.& I hesitated. They aren't going to listen to me, I realized. They aren't going to talk to me. With a weary sigh, I slumped into my seat. I was still buckling the seatbelt when I felt the plane take off. &I don't believe this,& I muttered. I turned to the window and saw the ground slant away. Up, up. The blue sky filled the round window. I peered down at the airport, the surrounding trees, the square blocks of houses, tiny like dollhouses now. This isn't happening, I told myself. I'm all alone. All alone on this huge jet plane. I could feel the air pressure change as the plane began to climb. It turned sharply. I heard the engines whine louder. The plane tilted slowly. Dipped to one side. Then straightened out. Turning ... turning ... Peering down, I saw that the square blocks of houses had vanished. I saw green treetops. Empty fields. Then more treetops. Then a long, narrow strip of yellow. Beach? Yes. The long, sandy beach along the Atlantic. I stared down, frozen in place. We were heading out over the ocean now. Sunlight sparkled, casting sheets of gold over the rolling blue-green waters, making the whole ocean shimmer and gleam. Why are we flying over the ocean? I wondered. And then I realized: We're not flying to Orlando. This can't be the way to Orlando. I slumped down in the seat, my hands clammy and wet, clasped tightly together in my lap. I took a long, deep breath and held it, trying to slow down my racing heart. Where are we going? Where? And then, as I took another deep breath, I saw the pilot's door slowly open. ...A man stepped out from the cockpit. His dark eyes narrowed, examining me coldly. He looked about forty, older than my dad. He had straight, shiny black hair streaked with white, pulled back in a long ponytail. His black mustache came down around the sides of his mouth and was also streaked with white. He was very tanned. A tiny diamond stud sparkled in one earlobe. He wore a green-and-black camouflagejacket over baggy khakis. He had two rows of silver medals pinned to the right breast of his jacket. &Which-who are you?& I managed to choke out. He continued to study me with those jet-black eyes. He didn't reply. &What's going on?& I demanded. &Where is everybody? Where is this plane going?& He raised both hands and motioned for me to relax. &All in good time,& he said. He had a surprisingly soft voice with a hint of a foreign accent. &But--I don't understand!& I sputtered. Again, he motioned for me to relax. His hands were as tanned as his face. He turned to the small galley and pulled a plastic tray from a shelf. &It is a long flight. I will prepare a lunch for you.& I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding. My knees suddenly felt weak, as if they were about to collapse. &I don't want lunch!& I screamed in a high, shrill voice. &I want out of here! Turn this plane around! There's been a terrible mistake!& He raised a finger to his lips. &Shhh.& He opened a refrigerator and pulled out a sandwich wrapped in foil. &What would you like to drink?& &I don't want a drink!& I shrieked. &I want to get off this plane! I want to go home! This is a mistake!& &It is no mistake,& he said softly. He placed a can of Coke on the tray. &It has to be a mistake!& I insisted. &I'm supposed to meet my aunt in Orlando! Who are you? What is this flight? Where are we going?& He set down the tray and turned to me. &My name is Lieutenant Henry,& he replied, bowing his head slightly. &I am sorry. That is all I am allowed to tell you, Excellency.& &Huh? Excellency?& I frowned at him. &Why did you call me that?& He didn't answer. He's crazy! I decided. He's some kind of lunatic. He and a pilot have hijacked this plane. I'm being kidnapped or something! My knees gave way. I dropped back into the seat. I took a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. &Do not be frightened,& Lieutenant Henry said. &You will be told all, Excellency. You will learn everything in due time.& Excellency? What was he talking about? &Here.& He set the tray in my lap. &Have some lunch. It's a very long flight.& Lieutenant Henry disappeared back into the cockpit and didn't return. We flew all night. I tilted the seat back and tried to sleep. But I was too frightened. What is going on? I asked myself. That weird note from my parents ... the emptyplane ... this man calling me Excellency ... I stared out the window. I could see a pale half-moon, trails of gray mist curling over it. Dark ocean below. Endless ocean, gleaming brightly in the moonlight. I finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When I awoke, red sunlight was streaming through the small, round window. I peered out. The ocean had been replaced by another kind of sea--a sea of yellow and white sand. &Desert,& I murmured. The pilot's door opened. I saw the back of a man's head in the pilot's seat. Red hair falling out from under a black baseball cap. Lieutenant Henry stepped out and closed the door, blocking my view. &Did you sleep, Excellency?& he asked, nodding his head in another short bow. The plane bounced. He steadied himself with one hand against the cabin wall. As he raised his arm, I glimpsed a brown leather gun holster under his jacket. Oh, wow, I thought. The plane really is being hijacked. Does he plan to shoot me when we land? Is he going to hold me for ransom? He's in for a surprise. My parents both work. They don't have much ransom money. &Did you sleep?& he repeated. &I guess,& I replied, stretching my hands over my head. &Where are we? What desert is that down there?& He turned into the galley. &We will be landing soon,& he replied. He gave me breakfast --orange juice, an apple, and a bowl of cornflakes with milk. Then he disappeared back into the cockpit. As I spooned up the cereal, I peered down at the yellow sand. White rocks poked up through the sand like bones. As we slowly dropped, the shadow of the plane slid over the sand, a long gray shadow. We bounced down on a small runway between two low yellow hills. The plane hit hard. The milk splashed out of my cereal bowl. I could see a long white stucco airport. As we rolled to a stop, I saw a row of green Jeeps. Brown-uniformed soldiers with rifles. Clusters of people in white robes. The plane stopped with a jolt. I was thrown forward against the seatbelt. Lieutenant Henry appeared in the cockpit doorway. &Sorry about the landing, Excellency,& he said. &The runway is a bit too short for this large plane.& &Where are we?& I demanded angrily. &Why did you bring me here? Why do you keep calling me Excellency?& &Come,& he said, motioning for me to undo the seatbelt. The cabin door slid open. Bright sunlight streamed in. &I'm sure that General Rameer will explain everything to you.& I unbuckled the belt, but I didn't stand up. &Am I being kidnapped? Am I?& He smiled for the first time. His dark eyesflashed merrily, as if I had made a joke. &Of course not,& he replied. Lieutenant Henry led me out into the bright sunlight. As we stepped onto a metal stairway, I had to shield my eyes from the glare. A blast of hot, dry air greeted me. Our shoes clanged down the stairway. Four stern-looking soldiers met us at the bottom. Lieutenant Henry nodded to them. They gave him a two-fingered salute. Standing back by the little airport, I saw a crowd of people. Some were in white robes. Some were in camouflage shirts and pants. Some wore brightly colored shirts and shorts. They all were cheering. Many of them waved green pennant-shaped banners. At the side of the building, a small band was playing. Was this all for me? &This is totally crazy,& I murmured. With Lieutenant Henry at my side, I followed the four soldiers across the airfield. They led us to a long black limousine parked at the end of the runway. A dark-uniformed driver bowed and pulled open the back door of the enormous car. The soldiers stepped aside, walking stiffly in rhythm. &Get in, Excellency,& Lieutenant Henry urged. &Climb into the car. General Rameer awaits you.& I hesitated. The hot sun beamed down on me, but I still felt a cold chill run down my back. I'm a million miles from home, I thought. Nowhere to run. No way to escape. I lowered my head and peered into the car. Sitting on the red leather seat was a large, smiling man in a white linen suit. He had curly white hair above a slender, tanned face. A stubble of dark beard on his cheeks and chin. Flashing black eyes. He held a shiny black cane between his legs. A green-jeweled ring sparkled on the pinky finger of his right hand. He waved for me to climb in beside him. &Welcome, Excellency,& he called out in a hoarse voice. I leaned into the doorway. &Why are you calling me that?& I cried. And then I couldn't hold it back. All of my anger, all of my fear and confusion burst out of me. &I demand to see my parents!& I screamed. &I'm not getting into your car! I want to talk to my parents right now!& General Rameer's smile faded quickly. His eyes dulled. His whole face appeared to darken. &I'm sorry, Michael,& he said softly. &Your parents are no longer alive.&I gasped. And grabbed the limo door to steady myself. &Huh? My parents--?&General Rameer nodded sadly. &But--they took me to the airport in New York yesterday!& I cried. &They saw me onto the plane and--& &Do you mean the Clarkes? Those people are not your parents, Excellency,& General Rameer said. &Not my parents?& &They were supposed to let you know the truth before you boarded the plane.& The note! We are not your parents. Was it true? &But--I--I--& I sputtered, still gripping the limo door for support. &Get in,& General Rameer urged. &I will not harm you. There is no need to be afraid, Michael.& &Climb in,& Lieutenant Henry also urged, placing a firm hand on my trembling shoulder. I gazed back toward the airport. The crowd was still cheering. The green pennants waved. The band continued to play a happy march. The sun pounded down on me. My head throbbed painfully. I suddenly felt as if I were melting, melting into the tar of the runway. I took a deep breath and climbed into the red leather seat beside General Rameer. The limo door closed behind me. I felt a cold burst of air from the air-conditioning. I turned to General Rameer. His white suit gleamed. He gripped his shiny ebony cane tightly with both hands. He nodded to the driver. The car began to roll across the runway. Past the band and the crowd of cheering people. I couldn't see them clearly now. The limo windows were tinted dark gray. &My parents--& I started. &Don't worry about the Clarkes,& General Rameer said softly. &They will be treated well.& &You mean--they're okay?& I gasped. The general nodded. &They are being well paid for protecting you. They did a good job for the past twelve years.& &Uh ... protecting me?& &They hid you and they protected you,& General Rameer replied. I squinted out the tinted window, my mind whirring, trying to understand. The big limo bounced over a narrow road. I saw rows of small white houses on one side of the car. The rolling sands of the desert stretched endlessly out the other window. I saw people walking along the side of the road. They turned and stared at the limo as we bounced by. &I--I don't believe any of this,& I stammered, shaking my head. He patted my arm. His eyes watered. His face suddenly revealed real sadness. &I know this must be hard for you,& he said in his hoarse, whispery voice. &I know this must come as a terrible shock.& &So ... Mom and Dad--I mean, the Clarkes--& I started.&They took you away to the United States,& General Rameer interrupted, his dark eyes locked on mine. &You were a baby. You cannot remember. They escaped with you to New York. They had their orders.& &Orders?& &To protect you. To keep our enemies from finding you. To bring you up as a normal boy.& &And my real parents?& I asked. He lowered his head until his forehead touched the tip of his cane. &Your real parents were killed in the war.& I swallowed hard. &War?& &Our twelve-year struggle with the rebel forces. Our twelve-year battle against those who would take control and destroy our nation.& I stared at him, sweat pouring down my forehead despite the air-conditioning. Struggling to take this all in. Struggling to make sense of what he was telling me. &What is this nation?& I asked finally. &What is it called?& His face brightened. &Jezekiah,& he told me. &Jezekiah. It is your homeland, Michael. It is your nation.& &I--I'm very confused,& I confessed. I clasped my cold, clammy hands together in my lap. &It is to be expected,& General Rameer said, nodding. &But the news is all good, Excellency. You see, after twelve years of war, we have won. It is finally safe for you to return and lead your people.& I swallowed again. Was this all a joke? A lie? I stared deep into the general's eyes, searching for the truth. But I could see only my own reflection. &Am I really the leader of this nation?& I finally choked out. &Is it true?& He nodded. &Yes. We are driving to the Royal Palace. You will take your place as the ruler of Jezekiah.& He gripped my arm tightly. &But first, you must prove that you really are Michael. You must prove that you really are the royal prince.& I uttered a short gasp. &Prove it? How?& He squeezed my arm. &It is an easy test. You must tell us the location of the mummy.& I gaped at him. &Mummy? What mummy?&The limo pulled through a tall iron gate onto a long, paved driveway. Two rows of palm trees leaned over us as we rolled slowly up to the Royal Palace. My mouth dropped open as the palace came into view. An endless pink-and-white building of towers and turrets and gated courtyards. All along the drive, brown-uniformed soldiers stood guard at stiff attention, rifles raised at their waists. As we passed a wide courtyard, I saw a bubbling waterfall splashing into a huge,tear-shaped swimming pool. Tall shrubs and clumps of palm trees provided shade all along the walk that led to the brass double doors at the front. &This is your home, Excellency,& General Rameer said quietly. &I see you are overwhelmed.& &I don't believe any of this,& I confessed. He chuckled, but his expression remained solemn. &I hope it works out for you,& he muttered under his breath. &In ancient times, our people made mummies of the dead, just as the Egyptians did,& General Rameer explained. The two of us were in the dining room, an enormous room with gold-papered walls, silvery curtains, and a crystal chandelier that appeared to float over us. We were seated across from each other at one end of a long, polished mahogany table. Servants had brought out lunch--bowls piled high with fruit, dates and figs, plates of roast chicken and lamb, salads, potatoes, and rice. When I sat down, I didn't think I could eat. My stomach felt tied in knots. My head was still swimming from everything that I'd heard and seen. But I was hungrier than I thought. After all, I hadn't eaten a real meal for nearly a day. I piled my plate high. General Rameer seemed pleased to see me eat so hungrily. And as I ate, he explained to me about the mummy. &The mummy of the Emperor Pukrah is a national treasure, Michael,& he said, spreading a thick brown paste onto a slice of flatbread. &Pukrah was an ancient leader. Pukrah's mummy is the oldest one known in the world.& General Rameer tore off an end of the bread and handed it to me. The pasty stuff had a strange taste, sweet and spicy at the same time. &Pukrah's mummy was kept for centuries in this palace,& the general continued. &Then, twelve years ago, the rebels began their war. Your parents--our rulers--decided the mummy was no longer safe. &They knew the rebels were desperate to capture the mummy. So your parents decided to hide the mummy where neither side could find it. And they hid something of priceless value inside the mummy.& I swallowed a slice of chicken. Then I scooped some of the spicy potato salad onto my plate. &What did they hide?& I asked. General Rameer tore a cluster of grapes from the bowl and popped them one by one into his mouth. &Your parents opened the mummy and hid the Jezekiah Sapphire inside.& &The what?& I asked. &It is the most beautiful jewel in the world,& General Rameer gushed, clapping his hands together. He suddenly had a dreamy look in his eyes. &The sapphire is so valuable, our entiretreasury is based on it.& I squinted across the table at him. I didn't really know what he meant. But I could see by the expression on his face that the Jezekiah Sapphire had to be worth big bucks. &Our nation cannot survive without it,& General Rameer said, leaning close. &For twelve years, the war was fought. The rebels searched desperately for Pukrah's mummy. They knew if they found the mummy--and the jewel-that victory was theirs. &But your parents hid the mummy well. It was not found.& He sighed and picked up another handful of grapes. &Now the war is nearly ended,& he said in his hoarse voice. &A few rebels remain. But we have won. We must find the mummy and claim the sapphire.& I dropped my fork. &You mean--you don't know where it's hidden?& General Rameer shook his head. &Your parents didn't tell anyone. And then they died as the war began. No one here knows the mummy's hiding place. Not me. Not any of the other generals.& He leaned even closer, and his dark eyes burned into mine. &We must have that mummy. Our nation cannot survive without it.& He grabbed my wrist tightly. &And you, Michael. You are the only one who knows where it is hidden.& &Huh? I do?& I tried to free my arm. But he kept his tight grasp on my wrist, his eyes frozen on mine. &You were a tiny baby. Your parents planted a memory chip in your brain telling the mummy's hiding place. Then you were rushed away to the United States where the secret would be safe.& &Oh. I see.& What a lame reply. But what was I supposed to say? My mouth suddenly felt dry as cotton again. I took a long drink from the crystal water goblet. General Rameer finally let go of my wrist. But he didn't turn away his gaze. He didn't blink. He stared at me as if trying to find the mummy's hiding place in my eyes. &It is good to have you back where you belong,& he said, forcing a short, tense smile. &What a pity that your parents cannot see what a fine young man you have grown to be.& &Uh ... thank you,& I replied awkwardly. I took another long drink. A servant stepped forward with a silver pitcher to refill my glass. &Now you will lead us to the mummy and the sapphire,& General Rameer said. &And the nation will be so happy to have you--its true leader--back home.& &Uh ... yeah,& I replied, nervously ruffling the white linen napkin in my lap. &Do you wish to tell me the mummy's hiding place now?& General Rameer asked softly. &All of Jezekiah is waiting to hear.& I took a deep breath. &Well ...& I froze in panic. My heart did a flip-flop in my chest.Do I know where the mummy is? I asked myself. No. No way. I don't have a clue. General Rameer stared at me, waiting. Waiting for my answer. All of Jezekiah is waiting for my answer, I realized, gripping the edge of the table. When they find out I don't know anything, I could be in real danger. What am I going to do? What am I going to tell him? Think of something, Michael ... think!I let my hands slide off the table edge and uttered a loud groan. I rolled my eyes up in my head. Tilted my body ... tilted ... ... until I fell off the chair, onto my side on the carpet. &Ow!& I landed harder than I had planned. Above me, I heard General Rameer cry out in surprise. I saw two servants come hurrying over to see what the problem was. General Rameer climbed out of his chair and leaned over me. He gazed down with real concern. He shook me gently with both hands. &Michael? Are you okay?& I groaned again and rolled onto my back. I blinked several times. &Sorry,& I whispered. &I--I'm okay.& I sat up unsteadily, blinking a few more times. General Rameer stepped back. He let out a sigh of relief. The color came back to his face. &It's all ... too big a shock,& I said, rubbing my forehead. &I mean ... yesterday I was a kid from Long Island. Flying to meet my aunt and going to Disney World. And today ...& &Yes, yes.& The general helped me gently to my feet. &I understand.& He held onto me until he was sure I was steady. &You have had your whole world turned upside down, Excellency. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to hurry you. It is just that we must have Pukrah and the sapphire back--immediately.& &Yes. Of course,& I replied, swallowing. He handed me the water goblet. &I will give you time to rest. And to think. Later, once you are feeling better, we will talk again.& I nodded weakly and took a long drink. Two uniformed guards appeared from out of nowhere. General Rameer ordered them to take me to my quarters. They led me down an endless hallway. The walls were covered in silky gold curtains. I gazed at a long row of enormous, gold-framed oil paintings. Portraits of old-fashioned-looking people, all dark and short and kind of chubby. Are these really my ancestors? I wondered. No. I was sure that General Rameer and hismen made a terrible mistake. They got the wrong boy, I decided. It's as simple as that. And that note from my parents? Just a joke? Or did my parents somehow make the same mistake? It was all too much to think about. I felt as if my head was bursting! The guards led me to my quarters--not just one room, but several huge rooms around an outdoor courtyard with a tall, bubbling fountain. I stepped into the front room, all gold and silver and red. The room was as big as my whole house back home. Filled with chairs and couches and desks and bookshelves, and furniture I didn't even recognize! I didn't really get a good look. Because my eyes stopped at the telephone on the desk against the back wall. And I knew instantly what I had to do. I had to call Mom and Dad back home. I had to get a call through to New York. I had to explain the mistake that had been made. They must be so frantic, so worried, I realized. When Aunt Sandra called them and told them I didn't arrive in Orlando, they probably went nuts. They must have the police and the FBI out looking for me! My heart pounding, I practically leaped across the enormous room. I grabbed the phone. Mom and Dad will know how to get me away from here, I told myself. They'll talk to this general. And I'll be on the first plane back to New York. I lifted the receiver to my ear and listened for the buzz of a dial tone. Instead, I heard silence. A click. Then a man's voice purred in my ear: &Yes, Excellency? Did you wish to make a call?& I groaned. &Are you the ... operator?& &Yes, I am your operator,& he replied. &Well ... I'd like to call Long Island, New York,& I told him, trying to sound calm. &I'm so sorry,& he said. &I cannot make that call.& &Excuse me?& I cried. &You mean--& &I have certain orders, Excellency.& &But--but--& &I'm really sorry, sir. Do you wish to call somewhere else?& &Uh ... yes,& I replied, thinking quickly. &I'd like to call Orlando. Orlando, Florida.& &Oh, I'm sorry, Excellency. I cannot do that.& &But I need to speak to my aunt!& I shouted angrily, losing it. &I'm so sorry,& he purred. &My orders, sir.& &Orders?& I shrieked. &What exactly are your orders?& &From the general,& he replied, softly, calmly. &You're not allowed to make any calls. Until the general gives permission.& I slammed down the receiver.I glanced quickly around the room. Now what? I have to get out of the palace, I decided. If I can get away from here and get into town, I can use a pay phone, a phone without a personal operator! It shouldn't be too hard to sneak away, I told myself. I just have to avoid the guards. I took a deep breath and trotted to the door. My hand trembled as I grabbed the shiny brass knob. Turned it. Pulled. The door wouldn't move. I tried pushing. Then pulling. &Excellency?& a voice called from the other side of the door. &Is there anything I can get you?& A guard. I was locked inside. And the door was guarded. General Rameer wasn't taking any chances. &Doesn't he trust me?& I murmured out loud. I'm trapped here, I realized. I'm supposed to be their ruler--but I'm a prisoner until I lead them to Pukrah's mummy. With a heavy sigh, I threw myself onto one of the red velvet couches. I sank into the cushion and buried my face in my hands. A few seconds later, I heard a cough. The rustle of a curtain. A footstep. I'm not alone in here, I realized. I lowered my hands from my face and spun around. &Who's there?&A girl about my age stepped out from behind the silk curtains. She was tall and thin, dressed in a white polo shirt tucked into white shorts. She had short red-brown hair parted in the middle, with bangs that came down to her olive-colored eyes. &Who are you?& I cried, jumping to my feet. She raised a finger to her lips. &Shhh.& Her green eyes flashed. She motioned to the door. &They will hear,& she whispered. She tiptoed over the thick carpet, studying me as she walked. &Are you the prince?& &I--I guess,& I stammered. &But who are you?& She returned her finger to her lips. &Shhh. The guards don't know I'm in here. I'm Megan Kerr.& &Michael Clarke,& I told her. &At least, I thought I was Michael Clarke until this morning. Now I'm not really sure what my name is.& She studied me some more. &Is it okay to call you Michael?& I shrugged. &Whatever.& &Should I call you Excellency?& &No--please!& I begged. Her eyes went to the door. We could hear two guards talking on the other side. &Well, who are you?& I demanded. &What are you doing in here? You don't sound like you're fromhere. Are you an American?& She pulled me over to the red velvet couch. I sat down next to her. &Yes, I'm American,& she whispered. Her expression turned solemn. &My parents were the American advisers to General Rameer. They were both killed in a bomb explosion.& &I'm sorry,& I whispered. She twisted a strand of her bangs between her fingers, then let go and dropped her hand to her lap. She sighed. &I had no relatives back home. Nowhere to go. No one to take me. So General Rameer adopted me.& &You live in the palace?& I asked. She nodded. &What's it like?& I whispered. &It's horrible!& she replied. &I miss my friends. There are no other kids here. I miss my school. I miss everything! And look at this place.& She swept her hand around. &It's all so fancy. Everything is gold and silver. Jeweled this and velvet that and silk that! Nothing is normal! I can't put a poster up in my room. I can't get any good CD'S. I can't--& She realized she had raised her voice. She gasped. We both turned to the door. &I'm sorry. Why are we talking about me?& she whispered. &You are the one who is in trouble.& Her words sent a chill down the back of my neck. &Yes, I know. I'm in major trouble.& She leaned closer. Her eyes burned into mine. &You don't know, Michael. You don't have any idea how much trouble you're in.& &Huh? What do you mean?& &These are bad men,& Megan whispered. &But, Megan, General Rameer is your father now. He adopted you--& I protested. She shut her eyes. &I don't care. He is the most evil of all of them. They are bad men, Michael.& She opened her eyes and turned to me. Her chin trembled. &Do you really think General Rameer is going to let you rule the kingdom?& I swallowed. &I don't understand. ...& &General Rameer has fought a war for twelve years,& she explained. &Now that he has nearly won, he will not give up his power to a twelve-year-old.& &But he calls me Excellency,& I argued. &And he said that once I have showed him the hiding place of the mummy--& &After you lead them to the mummy, they plan to kill you!& Megan cried. My mouth dropped open in horror. &That is why I sneaked in here,& Megan whispered. &To warn you.& &But I don't even know where the mummy is!& I exclaimed. Megan's eyes narrowed. &Then you are in even bigger trouble,& she said. &They will torture you. They--& The door burst open. Two brown-uniformed guards leaped into the room.Megan and I jumped to our feet. Before Megan could take a step, the guards grabbed her. &Let go of me!& she screamed, trying to twist free. &Let go!& They dragged her to the door. &Where are you taking her?& I cried. &What are you going to do to her?&The door slammed behind them. I could hear Megan arguing with the guards, telling them to let her go, all the way down the long hall. I froze in place, waiting for my heart to stop racing. I stared at the door, as if expecting it to burst open again, for the guards to return and drag me away too. &What am I going to do?& I asked myself out loud. Megan's frightening words repeated in my ears. They are evil men. ... They plan to kill you. ... They will torture you. But if they have the wrong kid ... I told myself, my thoughts whirring frantically through my mind. If they have the wrong kid, they'll have to let me go--right? They can't keep me here if I'm not the baby that was sent to America twelve years ago. Maybe I am that baby, I argued with myself. But if I am that baby and the memory chip was planted in my brain ... why don't I remember? Stop! I ordered myself. I shook my head hard, trying to stop all these desperate thoughts. I stared at the door. &Whoa.& I realized the two guards weren't out there. They had dragged Megan away. Was it possible? Did they leave the door unlocked? I took off. Leaped over a red armchair and flew to the door. I grabbed the knob. Turned it--and pulled. Yes! The door swung open. I poked my head into the hall, expecting to see guards. I peered in both directions. Empty. The long golden-walled hallway stood empty as far as I could see. I stepped out, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it against my ribs. I carefully closed the door behind me. Which way? Which way? I had to find the back of the palace. Maybe there were fewer guards there, I decided. Maybe if I could get to the back, I stood a chance of escaping. Shafts of yellow sunlight streamed through the tall windows that lined the hall. It was still morning, so the sun was still in the east, I figured. But what direction did the palace face? I didn't have a clue. Get going, Michael, I ordered myself. The important thing is to get out of here!Keeping against the wall, I began jogging to my right. My shoes thudded softly over the thick red carpet. Sunlight flooded the hall. The tall windows stretched nearly from floor to ceiling. Between the windows, big oil portraits of my ancestors--or somebody's ancestors --stared down at me, watching me run. Near the end of the hall, silky gold curtains billowed in a soft breeze, making a scraping sound over the carpet. I was nearly to the curtains when I heard another sound. The thud of footsteps. &Oh!& A sharp cry escaped my throat. I dove behind the curtains. Pulled them around me. Dropped to my knees. Peered out the side. Several guards marched past, rifles held stiffly in front of them. They moved in a tight formation, eyes straight ahead, swinging their free arms in a steady rhythm, not saying a word. I held my breath until they turned a corner. Then, slowly, shakily, I climbed to my feet. A close call, I told myself. Now what? Which direction do I go? My legs trembled as I stepped out from behind the curtains. Silence in the hall now. And then I heard a PING PING. What's making that sound? I turned and saw an enormous insect--some kind of giant horsefly maybe--flying into a windowpane. PING ... PING ... The insect kept flying at the window, wings fluttering furiously, battering its fat black body against the glass. What a waste of time, I thought. It'll never get out the window that way. PING PING. I watched the big insect try again, again. Out the window, I thought. Out the window ... Yes! Maybe I can escape out the window. I dove across the hall. I brushed the big, buzzing insect away with one hand. And stepped up to the window. It was a double window with a handle on each pane. I peered out, into a large, grassy courtyard. Empty. Guarded only by a tall granite statue of some kind of winged person. No human guards. Excellent! I grabbed the window handles, one in each hand. And I tugged. The windows were heavier than I thought. They didn't budge. I squeezed the metal handles and tugged harder. Please open, I prayed. Please ... please ... Yes! The windows began to move. As I pulled, they slid toward me, creaking heavily. Yes! I pulled them open just wide enough to slip through. Warm, fresh air from the courtyard greeted me. I leaned out. Pressed my hands on the windowledge. Started to lift myself up. Up and out ... And felt strong hands grab my shoulders. &Yaaaaii!& A startled scream burst from my throat. The hands tightened, pulled me back in. I turned to face two grim-looking guards. &General Rameer will not like this,& one of them said, frowning. &Come with us,& his partner ordered. And then he added with a sneer, &Excellency.&The two guards led me down a flight of marble stairs. We passed several meeting rooms with long mahogany tables. Then a library with bookshelves covering the walls and a pool table in the middle of the room. We passed a kitchen where several white-uniformed cooks busily prepared lunch. The smell of fried onions followed us down the hall. We turned a corner and entered a small room. As I stepped inside, I saw that all four walls were covered with maps. Most of them, I guessed, were close-up, detailed maps of Jezekiah and its neighbors. Some of the maps were covered with red and blue pins. Some maps had been scrawled on, with lines and circles drawn in red and blue ink. General Rameer sat at a desk at the back of the room. He had a large map unrolled on the desktop. He leaned over it, scowling and murmuring to himself, drawing a line on the map with one finger. He glanced up quickly when he heard the guards and me enter. &Michael?& His features twisted in confusion. &He was trying to escape from the palace,& one of the guards reported. General Rameer narrowed his eyes at me. &Where?& he asked the guards. &How was he trying to escape?& &Through windows leading to the east portico,& a guard reported. General Rameer scowled at me, furrowing his white brows sternly. &You may leave us,& he told the guards, waving both hands, motioning for them to go. &Wait outside the door.& The guards turned and walked out stiffly. They closed the door behind them. General Rameer squinted at me, tapping his big green ring on top of the map on his desk. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, clasping and unclasping my fists. My heart thudded in my chest. It felt like that big horsefly was inside me--PING PING-banging against my insides, trying to break out. &You know the palace is heavily guarded?& the general asked finally. I nodded. &Yeah. I know,& I murmured in a hoarse, frightened voice. &And you still tried to escape through a window?& &Yeah,& I confessed. &I tried.& His laugh startled me, made me jump. &That's just the kind of bravery we expect from our leader!& he declared. He stepped around thedesk and clapped me hard on the back. He shook my hand, squeezing it till my knuckles cracked. &I knew you were the right boy, Michael,& he said, smiling warmly, his white teeth gleaming under the low ceiling lights. &The ruler of this kingdom has to have that kind of reckless courage.& &Uh ... yeah. I guess,& I replied weakly. My legs were shaking. I didn't know what to say. I could barely think straight! He rested a hand heavily on my shoulder and guided me to the wall across from the desk. &Come look at this map,& he said, still smiling. He pointed his walking stick over a large color map of Jezekiah, mostly oranges and yellows. Across the desert in black were crude line drawings of structures. Maybe caves or lakes or something. &This is your kingdom,& General Rameer said. He stabbed a finger onto a black star near the southern border. &This is the palace right here. We are in the capital city of Ramenn.& He pulled his finger away, and I stared at the star as if I could actually see the palace and the town. &Did you study Jezekiah in school?& he asked. &Well ... no,& I replied honestly. He frowned. &We will have to make the kingdom more well known, won't we?& he declared. &We will have to put Jezekiah on the map, so to speak.& &I guess,& I replied weakly. &Here is the desert,& the general continued, sliding his stick over the large orange-yellow area. &As you can see, most of the kingdom is desert. And the desert is filled with many tall rock structures. And cut into these tall rocks are many caves.& He turned to make sure I was concentrating. I stared straight ahead at the map. &Go ahead, Michael. Take a good look at the caves,& he urged, lowering his voice. He took a step back so that I could see the entire map. &Go ahead,& he repeated, his hand heavily on my shoulder again. My eyes swept over the drawings on the yellow map. I saw dozens of caves, some big, some little. Why is he showing me this? I asked myself. Why is he making me study the caves? Of course, I knew the answer. I knew what was coming next. And it filled me with cold dread. &Which cave is it, Michael?& General Rameer asked softly, tightening his hand on my shoulder. &Which cave is Pukrah's mummy hidden in?& I stared straight ahead at the map. I realized I was breathing hard, my chest heaving up and down. &Which cave?& General Rameer repeated. &You have the information in your brain, Michael. Point to it now. Show me the hiding place of Pukrah's mummy.&&I ... I ...& My knees were trembling so hard, they were knocking together. I turned to the general. &I can't remember!& I cried. &Really. I'm telling you the truth, General Rameer! I really can't remember!& General Rameer's smile didn't fade. &That's no problem, Michael,& he said softly. &No problem at all.& &Which-what do you mean?& I stammered. &Well ... the memory chip is in your brain, right?& He tightened his grip on my shoulder. &We'll just have our doctors cut open your brain and remove the chip.&The guards ushered me back to my room. They practically had to carry me. My legs felt weak and wobbly and I could barely force them to move. I slumped into the room and they closed the door behind me. I heard a key turn the lock and knew I was a prisoner once again. &Aaaagh!& I uttered an angry cry and heaved a velvet throw pillow across the room. It bounced off a silky window curtain and dropped to the carpet. I lifted a glass vase off the desk and raised it over my head. I felt like smashing everything. I wanted to trash the room, break everything, destroy it all. I set the vase back down and started to pace the room furiously. I felt angry and terrified at the same time. &What am I going to do?& I asked myself out loud. I can't let them cut open my brain. I can't let them operate on me. I stopped suddenly, grabbing the back of the red couch. I had a sudden flash. &Megan--are you here?& I called. &Are you back? Are you hiding in here?& Silence. &Megan?& No. Not here. I was suddenly afraid for her too. The guards had dragged her away when they caught her trying to help me. What had they done to her? She was General Rameer's daughter now. He wouldn't harm her--would he? Several hard raps on the door made me jump. The door swung open and Lieutenant Henry swept in, his ponytail flying behind him. He wore the same outfit as on the plane--a green-and-black camouflage jacket over baggy khakis. His dark eyes glanced around the room, then settled on me. &Excellency,& he said, bowing his tanned head slightly. &Pardon the intrusion.& I just stared at him. I didn't know how to reply. &General Rameer sent me to speak to you,& Lieutenant Henry said. &He wishes for thereto be no trouble.& &Me too,& I murmured. I dropped onto the arm of the couch with a sigh. &We only ask you to restore the pride of our nation,& Lieutenant Henry continued, speaking emotionally, gesturing with both hands. &All of our people will rejoice when the mummy of Pukrah is restored to its place in the palace, along with the sapphire.& He paused, expecting me to say something. But again, I just stared back. &You will make so many people happy by revealing the mummy's hiding place,& Lieutenant Henry continued. &Why do you hesitate, Excellency? Why do you make things difficult for everyone?& I jumped to my feet. &I'm not trying to make things difficult!& I cried. &I'm telling the truth. I don't remember anything about Pukrah's mummy. I don't know anything!& Lieutenant Henry nodded and made a clicking sound with his tongue and teeth. &Too bad,& he said softly. He waved to the door. Two brown-uniformed guards stepped into the room. &Take the boy to surgery,& Lieutenant Henry ordered. I struggled to escape them. I twisted and squirmed and kicked. But it was no use. They forced me to change into a paper surgical robe. A few minutes later, I was lying on my back, strapped down to a metal stretcher. Four guards wheeled me into an operating room in the basement of the palace. Blinding bright lights flashed on overhead. Blinking, I stared up at two doctors and a nurse, all in white surgical gowns, white masks over their mouths and noses. &The operation will be simple,& one of the doctors announced. He grabbed my head in one hand, the way you'd pick up a melon from a grocery shelf. &We will cut like this,& he said. He scraped his finger along the top of my head. &One long slice. Then we saw open the skull to get to the brain.& &Please hurry,& I heard a familiar voice say from somewhere behind me. General Rameer's voice, low and calm. &The whole nation is waiting for that memory chip.& The other doctor raised a black rubber mask over my head. &First we will put you to sleep,& he said, leaning over me. &When I place this over your mouth and nose, begin taking deep breaths.& He began to lower the mask. &No--wait!& I screamed. &Wait-please! I remember now! It all just came back to me! Please--stop! I remember everything!&&Wait!& I heard General Rameer's cryfrom the back of the operating room. The doctors stepped aside, and the general leaned over me. He stared hard at me, biting his bottom lip, trying to decide if I was telling the truth. He scratched his white curly hair, studying my face. &Your memory came back to you, Michael?& he asked finally. &Yes!& I cried. &Everything. It--it was like someone turned a switch.& General Rameer turned to the doctors. &Unstrap him from the table. The guards will bring him to me in the map room.& &Should he change into his clothes?& one of the doctors asked. General Rameer frowned. &No. Leave him in the operating gown. Just in case ...& A few minutes later, I stood in the little basement room surrounded by wall maps. General Rameer stepped to my side. His walking stick clicked on the floor. He eyed me suspiciously. &I am so glad your memory returned, Michael,& he said. &The operation would be painful for you. It would take you many months to recover.& I took a deep breath. His words sent a sharp pain shooting through my head. I imagined a knife cutting through my brain. &Yeah. I'm glad too,& I murmured, avoiding his probing eyes. &It all just came back to me--in a flash.& &Very good, very good,& he muttered. He guided me to the orange-and-yellow wall map we had studied that morning. &Okay, here we are,& he said, moving the tip of the stick across the star that marked the Royal Palace. &Show me, Michael. Show me what you remember. Where will we find the sacred mummy and its hidden jewel?& I turned to the map. My eyes swept over the desert and its dozens of rock cliffs and caves. I couldn't focus. I was too frightened. They were all a blur to me. &Can you find the mummy's hiding place on this map?& General Rameer urged. &Can you point to the location, Michael?& I could hear the impatience growing in his voice. &Well ...& I ran my hand over the middle of the map. A wave of panic swept over me. My heart raced. I struggled to keep breathing normally. But my throat was so tight, I made a wheezing sound with each breath. What am I going to do? I asked myself. I don't have a clue about the mummy's hiding place. I don't know anything. But I can't let them cut into my brain. I can't! I'll stall him, I decided. I'll pick a cave that's really far away. And then ... Then ... Maybe I can escape before he finds out it's a wild goose chase. Wild goose chase. That was one of mydad's expressions. He said that all the time. I pictured Mom and Dad back home in Long Island. Then I remembered that they may not be my mom and dad. &Michael? I'm waiting.& General Rameer's voice broke into my troubled thoughts. &Uh ... yeah.& I pointed to a cave way down at the bottom of the map. &Pukrah's mummy is hidden in the back of this cave,& I told him, trying to keep my voice from trembling. The general narrowed his eyes at me. Studied my face for a long moment. I turned away and concentrated on the map. My chin started to tremble. I covered it with one hand. &The mummy is ... uh ... hidden behind a wall of stones,& I added. Very good, Michael, I congratulated myself. That's a nice detail. It makes it sound as if you really know what you are talking about. General Rameer leaned forward. He brought his face inches from the map and squinted at the cave I had picked. After a few seconds, he straightened up. &That cave is the hiding place? You are sure?& My whole body trembled. I hoped he couldn't see it. I nodded. &Yes. That's the one.& &Very good.& A smile crossed General Rameer's face. He placed a hand on my shoulder. &We will leave first thing in the morning. You will lead the way.& I couldn't get to sleep that night. I was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. A thousand horrifying thoughts raced through my mind. Moonlight from the window fell on the tall grandfather's clock against the wall. The clock read 2:00 A.m. I heard a stirring sound. Soft thuds. And a hand tightened over my mouth. Kicking, thrashing, I struggled to sit up. The bed table light flashed on. And I stared up at Megan. She raised a finger to her lips. And slowly took her hand from over my mouth. &Ssshhh.& &You scared me to death!& I wheezed. &How-how did you get in?& Her green eyes flashed in the yellow light. She tossed her bangs away from her eyes. &Don't make a sound, Michael,& she warned. &There are four guards outside your door tonight. And they are all awake and alert.& I sat up against the headboard and straightened my pajama shirt. &What did they do to you?& I whispered. &I mean, after they caught you in here with me?& &They didn't do anything,& she replied. &I'm the general's adopted daughter-remember?& I nodded. She dropped down beside me on the edge of the bed. She was dressed entirely in black--black tank top, black skirt over black tights. &I came to warn you,& she whispered. &Did youtell the general the true hiding place? I hope so.& I stared at her. I didn't know what to say. Should I tell her the truth? She didn't wait for me to reply. &I hope you told the truth, Michael. These men are desperate--and very cruel. If you lied to them ...& Her voice trailed off. A noise at the window made us both gasp. Another large insect bumping the glass. Megan's eyes locked on mine. &Did they tell you about the curse, Michael?& &Huh? Curse?& I choked out. &General Rameer and his men are so superstitious,& Megan whispered. &They were probably too superstitious to tell you about the curse.& &Tell me,& I insisted. &The mummy of Pukrah belongs to the people of Jezekiah,& she explained. &It is said that if Pukrah falls into the wrong hands ... if his mummy falls into evil hands ... Pukrah will walk! Pukrah will walk the earth until the evil is destroyed.& &Wow,& I murmured. &The men are all superstitious, Michael,& she continued. &Sure, they want to own the jewel hidden inside the mummy. But mainly, they want the ancient mummy. They are so superstitious! They don't believe they can rule the kingdom unless they own the mummy. &It is totally important to them,& Megan continued. &So if you are trying to fool them ...& I let out a long sigh. Could I tell her the truth? Could I tell her my horrible secret? No, I decided. No. I think I can trust her. But I don't want to get her into trouble with her new father. I'd better not share my secret with her. &Everything's ... fine,& I said. But my voice cracked as I said it. She stared at me. &Yes?& &Yes,& I insisted. &The memory chip--it clicked in. Really. All of a sudden, I remembered everything.& She continued to stare at me, studying me. &I looked at that map, and it suddenly became so familiar,& I continued. &I knew the right cave as soon as I saw it.& A smile spread over her face. &Michael --that's great!& she cried. &Yeah. Right,& I agreed. Did she believe me? Yes. I was sure that she did. &I was so worried about you!& she cried. &I-I didn't want anything to happen to you!& &No problem,& I assured her. Her smile grew even wider. &I'll be coming along tomorrow,& she declared. &It'll be so exciting!& She moved quickly to the window. &See you in the morning,& she whispered. And then she silently disappeared out the window, leaving the curtains fluttering. &Yeah, exciting, for sure,& I muttered, rolling my eyes. &It's going to be realexciting.& I knew that Megan was only trying to help me. But her stories about how cruel and desperate General Rameer's men were did not help calm me down. And I knew the story about