Imhotep (47 page)

He
leaned back against the rail at the stern of his ship.  The current alone
was moving the boat so rapidly that he felt a strong breeze on his face. 
The rowers were by their stations along the sides of the boat, but they were
resting, putting the long handled oars in the water only to adjust the boat’s
course, not to power it.

He saw
them talking among themselves, marveling over the power of the river. 
Sometimes he caught them looking at him, a touch of awe on their faces. 
They believed that his sacrifice had brought the fast-moving flood.

Tonight
they would reach Kom Ombo.  He would visit with his sister Hetephernebti,
be re-united with Inetkawes - he smiled at the memory of his celebration
with the three sisters brought to Abu after the temple dedication, he still had
the strength of a king - and prepare for the confrontation he expected at
the Temple of Sobek.

The
words in the message Imhotep had received were burned in his memory.  But
even the idea of being attacked by a crocodile didn’t lower his spirits. 
Imhotep had assured him that he would not be harmed.

He saw
Imhotep and his young bride at the prow of the ship.  She was standing
now, her morning sickness over, and Imhotep was standing beside her, his arm
casually draped over her small shoulders, pulling her close.  He was
looking at the passing land, turning to lightly kiss Meryt’s forehead and smile
down at her.

Djoser
wondered what the world looked like through Imhotep’s eyes, if he saw the same
desert, same eternal sky, if he felt the same intensity of the sunshine,
smelled the life in the river below them.

The
living air that surrounded him seemed to lift King Djoser even higher.  He
stepped away from the railing and Djoser, “The Wise,” Horus Netjerierkhet,
“Divine of Body,” King of the Two Lands, the “Golden Falcon” opened his arms,
turned his face to the burning fire in the sky that was the god Re and began to
sing a hymn of thanksgiving.

T
ama watched Brian and Pahket talk for a
moment before he leaned down and kissed Pahket, turned and ran off into the
night.  Pahket kept her eyes on Brian until he disappeared into the
darkness, then she turned and saw Tama watching her.

Tama
left the doorway of the hut and walked across the still warm desert sand to
Pahket. 

Their
conversation the night Tama had first arrived had been uncomfortable. 
Pahket had been worried that Tama would try to take Brian away from her again,
as Pahket thought she had done at Khmunu so many weeks ago.

Tama
had seen Pahket’s cold distance, but didn’t understand it.  During their
flight from Khmunu to Waset, Brian hadn’t told her about Pahket, except to
mention her as the servant girl at To-She who had cared for him.  Tama
understood that Pahket would be worried about punishment from Djefi, and she
knew that Pahket was among strangers and away from everyone and everything she
had known all her life.

But it
wasn’t until she had seen the way Pahket looked at Brian when she thought no
one was watching that Tama understood why Pahket had rescued him.  And
later, when Brian had tried so hard to talk to Tama, she had noticed Pahket’s
concern.  At first Tama had thought Pahket was worried about what Brian
might say about Djefi, but this morning she awoke with an understanding. 
Pahket was jealous of her.

There
was no need for that, Tama thought.  If Brian wanted to be with Pahket,
then Tama would give them her blessing and wish them well with an open,
unburdened heart.  One did not try to control and direct one’s own
heart!  How foolish to try to steer another person’s love. 

But I
am lucky, Tama thought.  I have lived my life with truth and
acceptance.  Pahket has lived at To-She amid the fears and control of
Sobek and Djefi.  The accident of our birth can control our life if we let
it; we spend our life struggling against the invisible bonds of prejudice and
ignorance and custom and habit.  But all we have to do is recognize them
and they drop away.

Now
she saw Pahket’s expression harden as she approached.  Tama wanted to hold
her and comfort her.  Pahket had been so brave to rescue Brian and it was
clear that she loved him. 

She
should feel happiness, not worry, Tama thought.

Pahket
looked up at her, frightened and defiant.

Tama
reached out and took Pahket’s hand.  She felt it hang limp and cold in her
grasp.

“Little
sister,” Tama said.  She stepped closer and, dropping Pahket’s hand, she
put her arms around her and hugged her.  “We should talk.”

“We
both want the same thing.” She felt Pahket stiffen slightly.  “We want
Brian to be happy.  I can see that you love him and I see that your love
has saved him and makes him happy.  That is good.  There should be no
coldness between us.”

She
released Pahket and stepped back to watch her face.  She glanced over
Pahket’s shoulder into the darkness.

“He
will be gone for some time.  Come, we can talk.”

D
iane saw a flash of brown and suddenly
Yunet's hand slapped her hard across her cheek.

She
put her hand to her cheek and glared at Yunet, who glared back at her, her own
anger bubbling over.  Diane heard an ugly, barking laugh from Siamun who
was standing a few feet away, watching them.

“Do
you want to die?  Are you that stupid?” Yunet screamed at her.

Diane
shook from the anger and humiliation she felt.

“Fahk
yu,” Siamun said, imitating the words Diane had spat at him as he walked past
her a moment ago. 

“Faahhk
yuuuu,” he shouted, laughing at her.

“Don’t
you ever touch me again,” she commanded Yunet.

Yunet
slapped her again, a quick, stinging slap.  Diane turned her head from the
blow and kept looking away from Yunet.  She walked a step away from her
and started to cry.  There was nowhere to go on the small boat, no way to
escape from Siamun and Yunet.

Siamun
watched a moment longer and then, sensing that the excitement was over, walked
to the stern of the boat to piss over the side.

Diane
felt Yunet approach her.

“Diane,”
she whispered.  “That was for Siamun’s sake.  I’m sorry.  I
would never hurt you, but I had to hit you, otherwise Siamun would have. 
I saw his face.” She hesitantly reached out and touched Diane’s shoulder. 
“I know him, dear one.  I know how he would enjoy giving you pain.”

Diane
bent down, lowering herself to the deck of the boat.  Curling against the
side of the boat she covered her face and cried.  Everything had gone
wrong.  She couldn’t remember the last time anything had been right.

This
trip she and Brian had planned was supposed to be an escape from the day-to-day
existence that had become meaningless, from the mindless shopping, work, sex,
laundry, television, movies, eating, cleaning, more cleaning - the
zombie-like life that she knew was waiting for her after college.

She
cried into her hands, the warm tears on her skin the only reality she could
believe in.  Whenever she tried to grasp the real world, it always seemed
to elude her.

She
had been what everyone wanted - a baton twirler and cheerleader for her
mother, field hockey player for her daddy, prom princess for everyone,
compliant backseat date for her boyfriends.  She handed in her homework on
time, she dotted her ‘i’s with a little heart, she wore the right clothes and
said the right things.

She
had gone to the college her parents chose, she had joined the sorority her
friends had joined and taken the popular classes.  But there had been
minutes, then hours and later days when she had grown depressed, wondering
where this was leading.  She knew there was a life waiting for her, a
wonderful life with a wonderful man doing wonderful things, but she didn’t
understand how this would happen.

She
had never had to decide anything, the choices had always seemed so clear and
easy, and everyone had told her so. 

She
had awakened one afternoon following a party her sorority had held with its
brother fraternity and, after she had thrown up, she had looked at the house:
the sleepers with their mouths open, their clothes in disarray, the nearly
empty bowls of chips and pretzels, the oily chunks of cheese, the fallen beer
bottles and half-filled plastic glasses.  She smelled the stale, spilled
beer, the sour air filled with the farts and belches of the drunken sleepers.

A
swirl of dust motes had hung in the air in front of her, dancing in the hazy
slant of the afternoon sun squeezing through the slats of a window blind. 
Watching them float, she had reached out slowly, trying hard to not disturb
their slow, whirling orbit.  She had known she would feel nothing. 
She had known she was acting this out for herself, trying to imbue the moment
with meaning.

Suddenly,
she had imagined seeing herself from a distance: a hungover slut standing in
the middle of a leftover party, her hair limp and skanky, hoping to find enlightenment
in some of drifting skin cells sloughed off when a drunk scratched his head in
his sleep.

She
had felt her lower lip tremble and had known that part of her mind was staging
the quiver, trying to elicit sympathy from herself.

She
had showered, packed her clothes and left the school, determined to make her
life her own. 

She
had met Brian and they began to live together.  But soon the newness and
excitement of ‘real life’ had dulled and she began fear that this was all there
would be.  She wondered if an affair would awaken her, if a new job would
give her life meaning, if a baby was the answer.  Then one night she
stumbled across a television show about the pyramids.  They seemed so
permanent and long lasting.  Whoever built them knew the answers, she had
thought.

Now
she was in that distant past and the people here were savages.  No, she
thought, that wasn’t true.  Yunet had been kind and understanding. 
When Diane had first met her, after the horrifying trek across the desert,
Yunet seemed to be everything Diane was seeking.  She was the answer to
questions Diane hadn’t known enough to ask, the touchstone who would open a
mystical doorway for Diane.

She
felt the rough timber of the boat on her bare skin and the tingling echo of the
slap against her cheek.  She remembered the feeling of superiority she had
felt when she had ignored Brian at Kom Ombo and then the horrible shock of
seeing him helpless and tortured by Siamun.

Slowly
her eyes focused on the grain of the wood, the random lines and widths. 
Within she felt a hardening, a real resolve, not the pretentious resolve she
had felt in the sorority house.

Never,
never again would she allow events to control her.  Never again would she
simply react. 

This
is my life, damn it, my life. I'll listen and watch and think. Then I'll decide
what to do.  If I screw up, I screw up,
she thought. 
No more acting.

Even
as she made her decision, she realized that she had been ignoring Yunet’s soft
voice.  Yunet was explaining something, telling a story.

“And
so there were no children,” Yunet was saying. 

“I was
sad, I wanted children.  But for Siamun it was something much worse. 
I don’t know if he cared about children.  I think now that he
didn’t.  But he wanted to prove he was a man.  It was important to
him.”

She
stroked Diane’s face lovingly, overjoyed to see that she didn’t flinch or
withdraw.

“He
began to drink more and more.  The other guards mocked him, offering to
come to our house and help him plow.  He got into fights with them,
terrible, violent fights.  Djefi was First Prophet by then.  He made
Siamun commander of the guards.  It forced the other men to stop mocking
him and it ended the fights.

“But
he was angry with me, Diane.  He thought I was somehow emptying his seed
from my womb.  Our sex turned more and more violent.  Then one night
he began to choke me even as he was in me.  I cried and struggled to free
myself.  I felt the light begin to fade and then my hand found a
knife.  I slashed at him, unable to see what I was doing.”

She
leaned closer and talked more softly.  “I would have killed him,
Diane.  I wish I had.  The knife sliced off his ear.  He
screamed, as much at my audacity as at the pain.  He took the knife from
me and then pinned me down, sitting on my chest, using his legs to hold down my
arms.

“I
shouted and spat at him.  He laughed.  His warm blood ran down the
side of his face and dripped onto me.  He held my head down with one hand
and with the other he sliced at my face.  ‘I want you no more,’ he
said.  ‘And no one will ever want you when I am finished.’ ”

Yunet
sighed and looked off into the distance, remembering the night.  “My
screams had awakened our neighbors.  They knew there was nothing they
could do against Siamun, but they ran to the temple and brought Djefi.  By
the time he got there my uncles had already arrived and they had pulled Siamun
off me, but not before he had given me this.” She ran a finger along the deep
scar on her cheek.