When Past is Present

By Free Spirited One aka Cleo

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Characters from the Film "The Mummy" are the property of Universal all other characters copyright the author. I am doing this for fun and making no money.

CHAPTER 1

1935 Cairo, Egypt

“Rick, are you coming?” Evelyn Carnahan called to her husband as she ran down the stairs for the door. “We are going to be late, you know.”

“Yah, yah, I’m coming.” Rick O’Connell pulled on his jacket and checked himself in the mirror.  He hated to do anything that required a suit, or a cleverly disguised hangman’s noose ironically called a tie.  But he loved his wife.  If several hours of discomfort would make her happy then he’d just suffer.  A rueful smirk lit his face as visions of scarabs’ intent on turning him into a bug buffet flashed through his head.  He concluded that comparatively speaking, the tie really wasn’t that bad.

Inhaling deeply, he descended the staircase to escort his wife to the opening of a new exhibit at the Cairo Museum of Antiquities where Evelyn still worked as the librarian.  She would not for much longer.  War was coming to North Africa and Rick had finally persuaded his wife and her alcoholic brother to get out of Egypt while the going was still good. 

Rick really wasn’t in the mood for a party but knew that his wife would never forgive him if he didn’t go.  She felt it was important that she be as involved as possible in the workings of the museum until the day they left.  She was convinced that kind of dedication would attract the right kind of attention.  Undaunted by neither the passage of time nor their impending departure, Evelyn’s quest for entrance into the ranks of the Bembridge Scholars was still in full swing.  Her application rejected a forth time, she labored on, determined to gain entrance or die trying.  Her brother Jonathan was taking bets that old age would happily accept her into its ranks long before the scholars at Bembridge. 

Regardless of his opinion, it was a goal that meant everything to Evelyn.  That fact in mind, Rick obligingly donned his most hated suit and tie whenever the occasion called for it.

~~~~~

“The ship leaves in five days, Rick,” Evie reminded her husband for the thousandth time as they drove to the Museum.  Hoping the answer might be different if she asked again, she asked again. “Are you sure we really have to go?”

“Yah honey, I’m sure.  The British are massing forces in Alexandria so it’s only a matter of time.  Try and think of it as an adventure.  You’ve never been to America and you haven’t met my folks yet.  It will be good for you and Cleo.”  He put a brave smile on his face.  “It’ll be good.”

Evelyn wasn’t so sure, especially since she had thought his parents were dead until a month before.  Regardless, she donned her brave smile too.  She had lived through one war already.  She had also lived through terrors no modern war could conceive of.  If she could survive Hamunaptra, she could survive anything.  His parents couldn’t possibly be any worse than that.  Not wanting to give the City of the Dead and its flesh deficient occupant even a moment of her time, she deliberately changed her thought pattern.  Better to focus on other things.

But it was a recurring theme.  They’d tried to put it out of their minds.  In a vain attempt to forget what had happened there, the bags of clothes, books, and supplies they brought back with them were relegated to a dark corner of the hall closet.  They hadn’t thought of them again until they were packing for a trip and she came across them in her search for luggage.  It had been a blessing when she discovered the treasure Beni had collected.  They were on the brink of financial ruin. 

She had spent six months inheritance to rescue Rick from Cairo Prison and fund their ill-fated expedition.  Her salary at the museum was not enough to cover the mortgage let alone feed her miscreant brother and out-of-work husband.  She had feared they would lose everything they owned, including their house. 

At first she had resisted selling to private collectors but was convinced to do so when Rick questioned how she intended to explain her find to the museum.  Her scholarly piety had grudgingly admitted there was no other way to keep the city secret.  She had taken up the Med-Jai mantra: no one must ever enter the city. 

The proceeds of the treasure were split three ways over Jonathan’s protests that after their marriage they were joined as one and as one should receive only one share, thereby making it a fifty-fifty split.  His suggestion was vetoed.

With her share of the money Evie had gone on a literary spending spree.  She purchased hundreds of books, only to discover that she didn’t have the space to house them.  The nice thing about being wealthy was she could afford to build a library worthy of her collection and that was just what she did.  It had been a joy to finally walk into what had once been her father’s small den and see a large wood paneled room filled with floor to ceiling stacks of neatly shelved volumes and a few artifacts she couldn’t bring herself to part with. 

It had been so orderly once.

Now chaos had taken over, a jumble of boxes littered the hardwood landscape of their home.  Almost all of Evie’s books and their belongings were packed.  They were preparing to cover the furniture and lock the door in hopes that the house would still be there if they came back. 

When they came back, Evie corrected herself.

~~~~~

Jonathan and Cleo watched them leave from the window.  “Well little miss, I guess it’s just you and me now.”  He smiled down at the little girl standing in the doorway as he drifted to the crystal decanter of scotch on the desk. 

The raven-haired child sighed as she entered the room and lay down on the couch.  He knew she did not want to leave.  He’d tried to talk to her about it but all she said was she didn’t want to leave her home.  She was Egyptian she said.  He’d argued that it was only a technicality of being born in the country.  Really she was Scotch/Irish by way of England and America but she didn’t understand. 

Jonathan looked around the empty library as he raised his glass in a blind salute to nothing in particular.  He loved this house too.  He couldn’t count the times he’d stumbled up the stairs seeking his bed and woke up on the landing.  His sister had taken to leaving a blanket and pillow there for him.  He had fond memories of many mornings spent imbibing the ‘hair of the dog that bit him’ in futile efforts to kill a never-ending parade of hangovers.  Tenacious buggers.  Jonathan’s body slumped as he thought about leaving.  He was not looking forward to moving to America any more than his niece.

~~~~~

The crescent moon hung low in the dark sky, stars like fireflies dancing around its sharp edges.  It was a breathtaking night, the kind that should have been spent at the pyramids where contrasting shades of blue, black and star fire had been brought together by the hands of man in eternal homage to the gods. 

Traversing narrow streets in a race against tardiness, Evelyn never gave the splendor above her a thought.  At 15 past the hour, Evelyn and Rick pulled in front of The Egyptian Museum of Antiquities for the opening a new exhibit on 18^th dynasty Pharaohs.

As they entered, Evelyn’s excitement died quickly.  They were indeed late.  Most guests had already arrived.  In the corner, speaking to Henry Meyer, one of the museum’s largest contributors, was Marcus Baynard.  The pair was talking in hushed tones, casting cautious glances at the crowd as if they were afraid someone might overhear.  Whatever they were discussing, it couldn’t be good.

Marcus had been at the Museum since the mid 1920’s.  He was a short, balding, horse-faced Englishman interested solely in the price he could get for the artifacts he discovered.  Treasure hunters were on par with rats in Evie’s opinion.  Women should be barefoot and pregnant in his.  Due to their fundamental disagreement the pair coexisted like oil and water.  He was one of the few things she was looking forward to leaving.  Maybe he’d get blown up in the war, not that she would ever wish for such a thing, of course.

~~~~~

Rick was equally unhappy.  First, the damn tie was choking him as surely as the noose at Cairo Prison had and second, he too had noticed Marcus talking to Henry Meyer.  Neither was among his favorite people.  Rich and aristocratic, Meyer was the kind of man for which the word ‘no’ was a starting place for negotiations.  There was nothing he couldn’t buy and, in Rick’s opinion, nothing he wouldn’t buy if he thought someone was trying to deny him. 

Meyer wasn’t all bad though.  His tendency to collect for private use had served the O’Connell’s well.  Meyer bought most of the artifacts from Hamunaptra.  No one had seen or heard of them since. 

Meyer wasn’t what bothered him though.  The real trouble was Marcus Baynard. He didn’t trust Baynard farther than he could throw him, which wouldn’t have been very far considering Marcus’ rotund physique.  The man had a ‘thing’ for Evie, always hatching little plots to make her look bad.  That neither Rick nor Evelyn could do much about it was enough to keep him awake at night plotting Marcus’ untimely demise.  At least this was the last time they’d have to see him.  The next four days would be spent packing. 

It was the only thought that made him smile for the rest of the evening.

~~~~~

“When will the truck get here?”  Cleopatra quietly asked her mother.  She was carrying the last of the boxes from her room down the stairs to stack with the others in the front hallway. 

“It’ll be here in an hour,” Rick called from the kitchen. 

“Is that everything darling?  You have all of your things?”  Evelyn crouched low, searching for her child’s face through the thick veil of her black hair.  The little girl was taking the move very hard.  Cleopatra was a stoic child, her emotional barometer almost always constant; deviations higher or lower both slight and infrequent.  That she was showing this much emotion made Evie very worried.  Evelyn opened her arms, offering her child a comforting hug.

“Yes, mother.” Cleo replied softly as she shuffled out of the hallway and into the kitchen past her mothers out stretched arms.

Evelyn slumped, her arms falling open to the floor.  Yet again, Cleo refused to be comforted.  She would never understand why the little girl resisted letting anyone get close to her.  Mothers and daughters were supposed to have a special bond, weren’t they?  Granted, there had been a great deal of distance, both physical and emotional, between Evelyn and her own mother.  It was something she had always regretted.  With no example to follow, Evie knew that she sometimes lost herself in her own pursuits and was not as available as she should be.  But she was trying. 

Rising, she followed her child into the kitchen were her husband and daughter sat in silence.  He was avidly reading the newspaper while she ate a piece of fruit.  Clearing her throat Evelyn caught her husband’s eye.  Nodding, he attempted to fold the newspaper.  Finding it impossible, he finally wadded it into a ball and threw it on the floor as he stood and followed his wife into the hallway.

~~~~~

“What?”  Rick asked, leaning against the wall watching his wife wring her hands and stare at the floor nervously.  That never boded well.

“I think we should give it to her now.”  Evelyn fished a small object from the pocket of her cardigan and held it in her palm, displaying it for her husband.

Rick took the small piece of intricately worked gold on a long chain and eyed it closely for a moment.  Clenching it in a fist he turned worried blue eyes on his wife.  “Honey, I still don’t like this.  I wish you’d never kept the damn thing.”

“We have been through this already.  This is her home Rick, let her take a piece of it with her.”  Evelyn grabbed his fist and tried to pry it open.

“Sure, but does it have to be a piece of Hamunaptra?”  Rick replied, smiling at his wife as she struggled and failed to open his strong hand. 

“It’s just a ring Rick, a mere trinket.  It originally came from Thebes for heavens sake.”  Evelyn pinched the skin on the back of his hand and grinned wickedly as he sucked in a breath and his palm involuntarily opened.  She victoriously plucked the ring from his hand and slid it back into her pocket.

“Yah, well, that’s not where we got it.  We got it from Hamunaptra.”  It seemed so logical to him; Hamunaptra was evil.  All things that came from the city were therefore evil.  Letting Jonathan keep the key had been one thing, giving a ring, stolen from the bowels of the City of the Dead, to their only child was entirely different.

“I simply don’t see the relevance.”  Her chin raised, a clear indicator that any opinion to the contrary would be perceived as an act of war.

“That figures.”  Of course she doesn’t, he thought.  Evelyn, the eternal optimist, would never see the relevance.  Even after her life changing experiences with the supernatural she refused to alter her fundamental belief that the world was generally good, people were normally kind, and, magical books aside, evil did not attach itself to objects.  Hell, maybe she was right.  Whatever the case, he would never win an argument to the contrary.  With a deep sigh he conceded, “Let’s get this over with then.”

Smiling triumphantly, Evelyn stalked back into the kitchen in front of him. Cleo was seated in a kitchen chair, little legs dangling in space, staring with sad eyes out the window overlooking the city.  She looked forlorn, like a tiny, raven-haired doll in a white dress. 

“Darling?”  Evelyn sat next to her and put a hand on Cleo’s arm.  The child didn’t move.  “Your father and I want to give you something very special.”

Slowly Cleopatra’s head turned and giant amber eyes looked questioningly into her mother’s concerned face.  Evelyn fished the ring out of her pocket again.  Dangling it on the chain she held it out to the little girl.  Cleo reached for it, plucking it from her mother’s fingers and stared with rapt fascination at the beautifully tooled gold.

“This is a very ancient ring, from 19^th dynasty Egypt.”  Evelyn took it gently from her daughter’s tiny hand and turned it over, showing the child the inside.  “It is inscribed.  See?  It says shenu meriti, which roughly translated means eternal beloved.  Now Egypt will always be with you, no matter how far away we are.”

Rick was standing behind them, closely watching the odd expression that blossomed on their daughters face as Evelyn placed the necklace over her head and the ring settled against her heart. 

Cleo clutched the ring to her chest and closed her eyes tightly.  When they opened, her expression was so painful that when Evelyn glanced up at him, Rick could tell she finally questioned the wisdom of giving the kid the ring.  There was a depth of emotion in the child that neither of them had touched.  That a ring succeeded where they failed wasn’t good.

“Thank you,” the little girl murmured as she slipped off her chair, hugged her Evie and then Rick in turn and wandered from the room, staring at the ancient love token.

Able to keep from saying the words, Rick couldn’t keep the ‘I told you so’ out of his expression.  Though earlier eye contact has shown that she knew she was wrong, he knew she would never admit it.  She would also defend her action until he caved in and told her she was right all along.  Her mouth opened, but the speech never got started because she was cut off be the noisy entrance of her bedraggled brother.

“Evie, old mum, what’s for breakfast?” 

Jonathan looked terrible.  He was still in his clothes from the night before, stubble covering his hollow cheeks.  His thinning brown hair was tousled, his right eye was nearly swollen shut and he was rubbing his temple in the universal gesture of a raging headache.

“Enjoy your last evening in Cairo?”  Evelyn quipped sarcastically, glaring accusingly at Jonathan’s newly acquired black eye. 

“As a matter of fact, I did not.”  Jonathan grinned weakly at his sister’s reproachful posture.  “Evie, I’m starving.  What did you make?”

“You are on your own Jonathan.  Had you gotten up when I called you there might have been eggs available but now there is only coffee,” she paused as Rick shook his head in the negative and held up his coffee cup wearing a devious smirk.  Let the drunk be miserable.  Rick knew that any suffering Jonathan was doing was deserved. 

Evie seemed happy that there wasn’t any coffee for her brother too.  There was a sharp edge to her tone as she said, “Well, I guess you get water then don’t you?”

Grumbling to himself, Jonathan shuffled to the fruit resting on the countertop and selected a piece.

“I suggest you hurry Jonathan, the truck will be here any minute and the ship leaves in two hours.”

~~~~~

With a tremendous sense of loss Cleo clung to the railing of the ship, staring back longingly at the fading Egyptian coast.  Her family surrounded her, their presence smothering in her grief.  She was leaving behind everything she had ever known to face an uncertain future in an unfamiliar country with people she had never met and was convinced she wouldn’t like.  Tears traced a glittering rivulet down her check.  Her mother noticed the rare break in her pokerfaced facade and hugged her close, seeking to provide the comfort she almost never accepted.  Now was no different.

Cleo pulled away, wanting to watch until the last moment when everything she loved faded from sight.  A small breeze blew in from the shore, against the wind.  It gently lifted her hair from her face, caressed away her tears and seemed to whisper softy in her ear.  She gripped the ring against her chest and smiled through her red eyes and stuffy nose suddenly aware that this was not the end of anything. 

It was only the beginning.

~~~~~

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