The Desert Flower

Chapter 1

The soft glow from the expansive glass roof bathes the showroom floor in gentle light, illuminating the myriad artefacts and dinosaur bones displayed within their protective cases. Amidst this scene, schoolchildren dart about, their excited laughter echoing off the walls as they play tag, paying little heed to their teacher's attempts to rein in their exuberance. Meanwhile, couples stroll hand in hand, their murmured endearments blending with the ambient hum of the museum. And amidst it all, reluctant teenagers shuffle along, their boredom palpable as a tour guide endeavours to captivate them with the museum's rich history, narrating the tales behind each carefully curated exhibit.

In a corner of the Ancient Egypt exhibit, a young woman with flowing chestnut locks and porcelain skin sits poised, her captivating brown eyes scanning the room with a serene intensity. Clad in a crisp white blouse tucked into a tailored knee-length pencil skirt, she exudes an air of quiet elegance, a black tweed jacket draped over her lap. Her attention is drawn to a group of disinterested teenagers, their eyes fixed on the closed sarcophagus of a mummified king of a once most prosperous kingdom of the world.

"Khufu also known as Cheops was a pharaoh of the 4th Dynasty, during the Old Kingdom," a tour guide introduces, his voice is cheery and expressive as he speaks to the bored youngsters. "He was the one who built the Great Pyramid. This pyramid is unusual for its large size and because its burial chamber is in the centre of the pyramid rather than at the bottom...uh..."

Forgetting his lines, the young woman sighs softly, rising from her seat to help the new tour guide out, saying the lines she's heard from his predecessors about a million times before, "It's alright Johnathan, I'll take it from here. Scholars believed that King Khufu intended the burial chamber to be at the centre of the pyramid from the beginning though it was first speculated that he changed the placing of the burial chamber in the middle of construction."

"His complex also includes three pyramids for his queens and a mastaba which is an ancient Egyptian tomb consisting of an underground burial chamber with rooms above it to store offerings for his vizier which is a high official."

Picking up where she leaves off, the tour guide brings the attention of the teens back to him finally recalling the rest of his lines, "King Khufu only ruled for twenty-three years, so the Great Pyramid's completion took less than twenty-five years. Later pharaohs called him a despot but records at the time say that he was a good pharaoh and his rule was a time of prosperity for the kingdom. Any questions?"

Immediately despite there being none since the beginning of the tour about twenty hands in the crowd of about thirty students shoot up into the air. Shocked the young tour guide hesitantly points to the young girl in the back with black large framed glasses.

"Who were King Khufu's wives?" She asks timidly looking at the tour guide in expectation, her pen poised above a notepad with many written notes. "Are they in this building as well?"

At a loss for words, the young tour guide's mouth opens and closes trying to come up with a response and once again, the young woman helps him out, "King Khufu only had one wife. In all Egyptian history, he was the only one who refused to have concubines. The Queen was a commoner, in fact, she was the daughter of a barley farmer. Her name was Queen Meritites, and no she isn't in this building."

More questions arise and get answered by the tour guide who gives them textbook answers before moving the group off. Moving back to her seat opposite the glass-encased sarcophagus, the young woman smiles when she feels the presence of another sitting beside her.

For the last three years since I moved to Washington, D.C. I've always visited the Egyptian exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. My name is Kamilah Mason, I'm twenty-one years old and I'm just going by my days as a frequent visitor to this museum.

"Don't you have to follow your class, Mary-Ann?" I ask the student softly, smiling, even more, when I hear the soft sharp intake of breath beside me. "You sat next to me the last time you came to this museum too and if I recall your teacher was less than impressed with the way you disappeared."

Breathing a sigh of admission, she shifts closer to me, saying eagerly, "They won't notice I'm gone. They never do. How do you remember me? The last time I came here was like three years ago."

Chuckling softly, I reply, "You haven't changed much since we last met, so recognizing you was a breeze."

"And you haven't aged at all since then," she murmurs under her breath, her gaze drifting to the notebook in her lap. "Anyway, I tried looking up the story you told me about King Khufu and Queen Meritites, but I couldn't find anything about her. Did she even exist?"

Turning to face her fully, I offer a gentle smile, saying, "Some stories transcend the confines of history books, Mary-Ann. It takes time to understand that not everything written down reflects the full truth."

"I'm nineteen years old," She protests, her tone tinged with confusion. "I've lived for quite some time already and I know that reading stuff doesn't mean the contents are always real. What do you mean by it took you a long time?"

"Mary-Ann!" A lady dressed in jeans and a white polo t-shirt whisper-shouts to the girl, coming towards us. "This is where you are? Do you have any idea of the heart attack you gave me when I counted one less person in the group?"

"Sorry, Ms Palo," Mary-Ann apologises half-heartedly, sounding sarcastic rather than apologetic. "I was just catching up with someone who I met before."

Looking at me suspiciously, I too stand, placing my hand on the small of Mary-Ann's back in reassurance, I say, "It was wonderful to see you again, Mary-Ann. I do hope you'll come to the museum more often outside of your curriculum."

Clearing her throat purposefully loudly to grab my attention, her teacher, Ms Palo, interjects, "I'm sorry but who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Kamilah Mason," I reply, giving her a point-blank stare as her face turns as white as a sheet. "I assisted in writing Professor Kevin Grant's History Of Ancient Egypt. Mary-Ann recognised me from the time when I met her while I was observing King Khufu's sarcophagus."

This time even Mary-Ann's eyes are as wide as saucers, History of Ancient Egypt is the world's current three-running, bestselling book written by Professor Grant who is a well-known professor in the archaeology field and myself, the book is basically about many legends of the people back then.

After a short apology and some praise from the teacher, Mary-Ann bids me goodbye with a promise to come back to the museum more often. Sitting back down on the bench, I sigh heavily, my eyes finding the tomb.

"That's one heavy sigh, Kamilah," Louis Ingard, the manager of the museum comments as he comes through the exhibit entrance, his Oxford cut shoes clicking smartly on the tiled floor. "It's lunchtime. Let's go to the canteen."

And here comes the museum manager...