Soul and Shadow (11 page)

At last, I burrowed against him while he stroked me softly. Our idyll was rudely interrupted by a sudden hiss. Kent
'
s lips moved against my hair.
"
It
'
s the Cat of the Baskervilles,
"
he murmured.
"
She
'
s staring at us, and her eyes are glowing red.
"

I sat up reluctantly to look.
"
Cleocatra,
"
I said sternly,
"
what
'
s your problem? Are you jealous?
"

She meowed disdainfully, as if to say such an emotion was beneath her. Still, she stayed rooted to the spot, waving her tail back and forth.

I tried to reason with her.
"
I have fed you. I even gave you some cream. You have fresh water. What do you want?
"

"
For you to chuck me out,
"
Kent supplied.
"
But that is not happening, cat. You
'
ll just have to get used to me.
"

I liked the sound of that.
"
He
'
s a very nice man, Cleo, really,
"
I coaxed, holding out a hand to her.
"
Give him a chance.
"

My only response was the feline equivalent of a snort.
"
Fine then. Have it your own way.
"
I snuggled back up to Kent, but after a minute he disengaged himself gently.
"
It
'
s no use,
"
he said.
"
Her eyes are boring holes through me. Anyway, I told you I had something else to give you. I left it in the car. Won
'
t be a tick.
"

When he was gone, Cleocatra jumped up on the couch and rubbed against me, purring.
"
Don
'
t be so full of yourself,
"
I told her.
"
He
'
s coming right back. Why can
'
t you behave? You never did this to Stephen. Be a good girl.
"

This, however, was not in the cards. As soon as Kent reappeared at the door, Cleo made a beeline for the bedroom, arching her back as she swept past him. Ignoring her, he set a box on the table.
"
One more kiss,
"
he said,
"
and I
'
ll show you what it is.
"

I was only too happy to oblige. But I was also curious. What could he have brought me? When I opened up the box, I couldn
'
t believe what I saw.

Inside was a stunning piece of jewelry. Rows of beads, with a clasp of lotus blossoms held together by pearls. It was, in fact, a reproduction of Amisihathor
'
s necklace.

I lifted it reverently.
"
Oh, Kent. It
'
s absolutely amazing. Where on Earth did you find something so fabulous?
"

He smiled.
"
A gentleman never tells. Let
'
s just say I have my sources.
"

I fingered it in delight.
"
I never thought I
'
d have anything so beautiful. I won
'
t say you shouldn
'
t have, because I love it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
"

"
Does that mean you like it?
"
he laughed as I embraced him.

"
I love it,
"
I said softly, my lips against the skin of his throat.
And you
, I added silently.
My Kent
.

And the rest of the evening passed very pleasantly indeed.

Chapter Thirteen

Kent left at eleven. Normally, I would be winding down at this time, getting ready to sleep. But I was full of too much energy for that. I wanted to draw. I
'
d work on the scene that had come to me during my yoga class.

Before saying goodnight, Kent had fastened his gift around my neck. Now I went into the bathroom and gazed into the mirror. A thrill went through me. A different face seemed to look out. It reminded me of playing dress-up as a child. I knew it was my reflection that I saw, and yet it wasn
'
t. I had a new power and a mysterious beauty that exhilarated me.

I don
'
t know how long I stood there, but it was Cleocatra who brought me back to reality. She had come into the room and was yowling at the top of her voice.

"
What
'
s wrong?
"
I demanded.
"
You have been acting crazy tonight. Cleo, stop that racket!
"
I reached down to her, but she backed away from me. I followed her to the hallway, wondering if there was something outside that had upset her. I checked the door and the windows; all was quiet. Probably a furry little denizen of the night was prowling about and Cleo wanted to give chase.

"
Sorry,
"
I told her.
"
Here, play with your mouse instead.
"
But she ignored the stuffed toy I dropped at her feet and stalked off to hide behind the couch.

"
Be that way then.
"
I left her sulking and went to get my sketchbook. Settling into the big leather chair, I picked up my pencil and gazed at the blank sheet of paper. I always began this way, trying to make my mind a blank as well. When I felt calm and peaceful, scenes would begin to appear, developing slowly like a picture on film. Closing my eyes, I waited for the images to come.

I have seen the young scribe every day I have been at Edfu. Whenever my duties allow, I meet him.

Sometimes, we sit in the temple courtyard, or walk about the grounds. He accompanies my sisters and me to the market and ensures that we procure the best goods at the best price. He seems to know everyone in the town and is always greeted with pleasure. I glow with pride when I see other women cast envious glances my way. Who would not want to be with a man as handsome and charming as Kamenwati?

Today, he has brought us a brace of birds that he himself killed. After leaving them with an adoring Tia, he and I stroll towards the river.
"
Where did you learn the skill of a hunter as well as the words of the gods?
"
I ask him, linking my arm through his.

"
My father was a scribe to his Majesty Thutmosis and was often at court,
"
he replies.
"
My family lived on the estate of my uncle, Horemheb. His foreman took me to the marshes and taught me to hunt and fish. My uncle always said that a scribe could starve like any other man, but if you knew how to hunt, you would always be able to eat.
"

I do not think it likely that Kamenwati would ever starve. There is always work for scribes. It takes many years of studying at school, but one can rise to an exalted position with hard work, and the favor of the gods. I know that Kamenwati has ambitious plans, and I have no doubt that he will achieve them.

In our long talks, I have also told him about my home and my family. My father went into the West many years before, but he left my mother with a comfortable income so that we never wanted for anything. I had no brothers, but two uncles and numerous male cousins kept an eye on my older sister and me. At various times, any of them might be staying with us.

And there had always been Kahotep, a priest at the temple. He is a great scholar who teaches reading and writing, and copies out important manuscripts. I have known
him my whole life, and he is very dear to me. My family expects us to marry, but Kahotep himself has never said anything of this. He loves me like a daughter, and I return his affection, but passion does not enter into it.

Kamenwati listens to everything I say with the utmost attention. I have never thought of myself as particularly interesting, but he certainly does. He discusses many things with me as an equal. He also praises my beauty. Men have commented on my looks before, but it has always washed over me. Hearing the words from Kamenwati gave them meaning for the first time.

Now, he is looking at me tenderly.
"
Never have I seen such perfect skin or eyes with such warmth in them. Hathor has touched you, Amisi.
"
His gaze moves up and down my body, and I shiver.
"
You are like a gazelle with your long legs and slender, graceful form. Sometimes, I am afraid that if I touch you, you will bolt away into the trees and leave me desolate.
"

My voice catches in my throat. I can only whisper,
"
I will not leave you, Kamenwati.
"
My eyes lock with his.
"
I will not run.
"

He bends his head down and kisses me. His breath is as sweet as myrrh. It is like inhaling incense, intoxicating me. I press close against him, feeling as if his heart beats for both of us. I have no more control than a feather caught up in the wind. This is all I want out of life: to please the gods and to be with Kamenwati.

I sat up suddenly. My neck was stiff and I had a cramp in one leg. I must have fallen asleep. My eyes went to the clock on the desk. Midnight. An hour later than the last time I had looked. I checked the necklace, alarmed that I might have disturbed it, but not a bead was out of place.

With a sigh of relief, I stretched and yawned. The dream was still vivid in my mind, and my fingers tingled with a familiar electric sensation. I had to get it down on paper. As I sketched, I considered how powerful suggestion could be. Here I was, conjuring up a whole life based on recent immersion in the world of Amisihathor. The images that became my paintings had often come with startling clarity, but not like the unfolding narrative of these dreams. Meeting Dame Ursula had done wonders for my creativity. And meeting her grandson had done wonders for me.

Chapter Fourteen

Ursula came over the next afternoon to look at all my work. I couldn
'
t help but wonder what she thought of my modest accommodations compared to her own homes. Although she was not in the least haughty, she was a regal woman who was used to privilege. In spite of the warmth with which she treated me, did she really feel, deep down, that I was good enough for her grandson?

I had gone to an exorbitantly priced pastry store and gotten cakes and scones to serve with tea. I had also borrowed china from my aunt. Mugs and mismatched plates would not do for Dame Ursula. Remembering her treatment of Kent, Cleo was banished to the bedroom.
"
And if I find any surprises in here,
"
I told her sternly before shutting the door,
"
you will be one sorry cat.
"
She merely swished her tail in disdain.

Having duly imbibed and praised my tea, Ursula examined my pictures with great care. Every once in a while, she would nod and smile in satisfaction.

"
These are simply extraordinary, Lily,
"
she said at last.
"
There
'
s no doubt in my mind that you are seeing things through the eyes of Amisihathor. I recognize several scenes from her daily life and some of her belongings. These gaming pieces? And this cosmetic spoon? They
'
re not part of the exhibition or the published catalog. Yet you have drawn them here. And this charming riverside tableau.
"
She indicated the fruits of last night
'
s labors.
"
It
'
s just as we imagined the town of Edfu to be. Most impressive.
"

Strange thrills were going up and down my spine. It was puzzling, exciting, and disturbing all at the same time. I could not explain what was happening. It was impossible to accept that an ancient Egyptian ghost was speaking to me. But I had to admit that my recent dreams were not ordinary ones either.

I had always possessed a vivid artistic imagination. However, since I had touched Amisihathor
'
s necklace, that creative spark had changed quality. Instead of occasional still photographs, I was now seeing a full color movie. My emotions were much more engaged. It was like a living story with real characters. And I realized that I was an integral part of it.

Suddenly there was a high-pitched cry from the bedroom. Cleocatra was expressing her displeasure at being kept out of the conversation. Ursula looked at me with a smile.
"
Oh, do bring your cat out, dear,
"
she said.
"
I would love to meet her.
"

I could only hope that the feeling would be mutual. I went and opened the door of her prison and Cleo flounced past me, going directly over to the chair where Ursula sat. For a long minute they looked at each other in silent communion. Then Ursula held out her hand and Cleo sidled up, allowing herself to be petted. I breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently the sins of the grandson were not going to be visited upon the grandmother.

"
Aren
'
t you a beauty?
"
Ursula asked in a soft voice.
"
The very image of Bastet herself. What a proud history you have.
"

Cleo gave me a smug look and settled right at Ursula
'
s feet.
Here is a human who appreciates me
was the clear message.

"
You would have been completely at home in Egypt,
"
Ursula went on.
"
Cats were greatly revered and were an important part of religion. Bastet, or Bast, was one of the most sacred deities. You would have been adored, my friend.
"

Cats had been considered a member of the family. They kept rodents away from the precious grain stores and guarded against snakes. When they died, their owners went into mourning and even had them mummified so they could be together again in the afterlife. A far cry from their later fate when Europeans associated them with the devil and slaughtered them by the thousands. With no cats to kill the rats, the bubonic plague had spread like wildfire. Ancient Egyptians had been much more sensible.

"
Royalty decorated their cats with golden jewelry,
"
Ursula continued, scratching Cleo under the chin.
"
And let them eat off of their plates.
"

"
Don
'
t give her any ideas,
"
I said, but I was ignored. It was the Cleocatra show now, with Dame Ursula as special guest. There was not even a cameo for Lily Evans.

"
It was a crime to injure or kill one of your kin,
"
Ursula was saying as Cleo purred.
"
A person could be put to death for such a thing, even if it was an accident. You were the first to be rescued if a house was burning, too. You were considered to be more important than the humans. Would you like a bit of mint?
"

She took a fresh leaf off of the tray I had provided for tea. As if to show her manners to this stately visitor, my normally ravenous pet nibbled daintily at the offering.
She
'
ll be wanting her own temple next
, I thought.

"
Bastet was closely associated with Hathor too,
"
I put in, just to remind them that I was there.
"
Both were worshipped at Dendera. They were goddesses of fertility and motherhood, music, and dance.
"

"
Quite right, of course,
"
Ursula agreed.
"
In fact, there is a particularly poignant item from the collection that Amisihathor owned. It is a medallion with an image of Bastet and some of her kittens. The number five was written on it: how many children she wished to have.
"

"
A dream that never came true,
"
I said, remembering the results of the scan that was done on her mummy.

"
It must have been very hard for her,
"
Ursula reflected.
"
All Egyptian women were expected to produce offspring. Who else would take care of the parents in old age and look after their tombs? I
'
m sure that Amisihathor and her husband would have adopted if they
'
d had more time.
"

This served to remind me of my own mother, and after Ursula left, I called her. I had spent a lot of time with Kent
'
s family and he had not yet met mine. I wanted him to see the house I
'
d grown up in. My mother was a good cook who raised her own vegetables and herbs. She had loved preparing meals for Stephen. While I didn
'
t expect the same amount of enthusiasm for Kent, I was sure she
'
d do herself proud.

I broached the subject after listening for five minutes about my Aunt Nancy
'
s gallstones.
"
Mom,
"
I said,
"
if you have a night free next week, I
'
d like to invite Kent over for dinner.
"

"
I would
love
that,
"
she said.
"
What about Wednesday? I won
'
t be playing bridge; Ken Colbert is having hernia surgery. I suppose we could ask the Heinleins as a substitute, if Maria can take her nose out of a book for long enough. Better say Tuesday, just in case. Is that all right?
"

"
I think so. I
'
ll check to make sure and let you know. Do you want me to do the cooking?
"

I knew perfectly well that my mother would not hear of such a thing or miss the chance to get in a swipe at my culinary skills. I was right on both counts.

"
No, no, I
'
d better do it. After all, I really enjoy it, and you—well, darling, no one is good at
everything
. I
'
ll make my three-cheese lasagna and bake a loaf of Tuscan bread. Stephen loves Italian. And of course, I
'
ll whip up a batch of oatmeal cookies. You just bring a bottle of nice red wine and leave the rest to me.
"

"
Stephen?
"
I echoed in confusion.
"
Mom, I said—
"

"
It will be wonderful to see him again. I
'
m so glad you two have made up. Or am I getting ahead of myself? I suppose it
'
s too soon to tell, but you
'
re making a nice start. There
'
s no need to rush things. Nature will take its course. I
'
m certainly not going to be one of those awful mothers who try to tell their children what to do, but you know how I feel about Stephen. If ever there were two people who belonged together—
"

"
Mom!
"
I felt like I was trying to stick my finger in a dike.
"
I never mentioned Stephen. Stephen
'
s got nothing to do with this. I want you to meet Kent. He
'
s the one I
'
m dating and he
'
s the one I
'
m inviting. Kent!
"

There was a moment of silence.

"
Oh, I see,
"
my mother said, unsmiling.
"
Him
. Well. Are you sure that
'
s what you want to do?
"

"
Not anymore. What have you got against him, except the fact that he
'
s not Stephen?
"

"
You can hardly blame me for being partial. I
'
ve known Stephen for years. I looked on him as a son. He
'
s such a dear man, so responsible, so dedicated, a
doctor
.
"

"
Kent is dedicated and responsible too.
"

"
He works in a museum,
"
my mother said in a tone that implied this was only one step up from male prostitution.

"
Maybe the most famous museum in the world,
"
I said, gritting my teeth.
"
He
'
s an authority on the Etruscans.
"

"
Never heard of them.
"
My mother was obviously not going to give an inch.
"
I just don
'
t think he
'
s good for you, Lily.
"

"
How can you say that?
"
I asked, frustrated by her perverseness.
"
Most mothers would drool at the very thought of a man like Kent. He
'
s smart and kind and respectable enough for Queen Elizabeth. He
'
s got a good job, is from a good family—what more do you want, for crying out loud?
"

"
An American would be nice,
"
she replied, as unruffled as always by my agitation.
"
You just never know with foreigners, do you? You might go over to his country and not be able to get back. It happens, Lily. They
'
ve made movies about it.
"

"
Mother,
"
I said emphatically,
"
he is from England.
England!
We haven
'
t had any problems with them since 1812. It
'
s not exactly a political hotbed.
"

"
It
'
s a long way off,
"
my mother replied stubbornly.
"
Different culture, different—customs.
"
She gave the last word a sinister emphasis.

"
Like what? Blood sacrifices at tea-time?
"
I was at the end of my patience now.
"
If you don
'
t want to meet him, that
'
s fine. Invite Stephen over and you two can have a great time. Maybe you can travel together to visit Kent and I when we
'
re in London.
"