The Mummy's Curse Page 10
Ahmed smiled a wily smile. “In a way, yes,” he said. “May I?”
The back wall was getting closer—it was only about six feet from the edge of the pit now, with all of us scrunched together in the small space between the wall and the snake pit.
“Go ahead,” Sam said.
“Thank you, madam,” Ahmed said. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out what looked like a flute.
“Oh, are you kidding me?” Tommy said, flailing his arms in frustration. “You’re gonna play music now?”
“Shhhh!” Leila said, and Tommy did.
Ahmed started playing a sultry tune. Immediately, the slithering pile of snakes came to a halt. The snakes lifted their heads and swayed to the music, as if hypnotized by the melody.
“I don’t believe this!” Tommy said. “The guy’s a snake charmer, too!”
Not only was he a snake charmer, he was a very good one. Quickly, before the snakes came to their senses, we lowered ourselves into the pit and tiptoed our way across, careful not to touch any of the swaying serpents along the way. It was tricky lowering Ahmed while he kept playing his flute, but we managed it somehow.
At the far end, I put Leila on my shoulders and helped her out. We all raised Ahmed up together so he could keep up the tune. He didn’t stop playing for a second. It was pretty impressive, I have to admit.
“Tommy,” I said, “now it’s your turn to hoist the rest of us—put all that brute strength to some good use for a change.”
He gave me a snarl, but did as I told him, hoisting us out one after the other as if we were made of feathers.
Finally, we all pulled together to yank him up. He made it over the edge just as the back wall clanged into its final position at the other edge of the snake pit.
We’d have all been dead by then, if it hadn’t been for the Happy Hippie and his fantastic flute.
And to think, he’d only come along at the last minute, and only because he played a trick on Dr. Mounir’s chosen cook!
We all rushed down the passage to the treasure chamber. Theo, Nels, and Jurgen were caught completely by surprise. They had all put their guns back in their belts, and their arms were piled high with treasure—so high that their view of us was blocked until we were almost on top of them.
Between Joe’s kung fu moves and Tommy’s knockout punches, we got the upper hand quickly. But the biggest surprise was Ahmed, who whirled into action and showed some martial arts moves that Joe and I had never seen before.
“Whoa!” I said, my jaw dropping. “Ahmed, you are a man of many talents.”
“I’ll say!” Joe agreed. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”
Ahmed smiled and gave us a little salute as he finished hog-tying the last of the three vicious videographers. “Lieutenant Ahmed Hussein, of the Egyptian Special Police, at your service,” he said, producing an official badge from his pocket.
“Egyptian Special Police?” Sam repeated. “You mean—”
“Yes, Miss Samantha,” said the Happy Hippie. “I was assigned by my government to come along on your expedition and protect your life—and the lives of these two young men,” he added, putting an arm on Joe’s and my shoulders.
“Our lives?” I said. “Who in the Egyptian government thought we needed protection?”
“Captain Ali,” Ahmed said. “He sends his apologies. He did not mean to insult your talents—but he just wanted to make sure that the sons of Fenton Hardy came to no harm.”
“I can’t believe it,” Joe said. I could see he felt a little insulted. “What made them think we couldn’t handle the job alone?”
Ahmed smiled. “Just after you left for Ras Khalifa,” he said, “Captain Ali received word from Interpol of a plot by an international criminal gang to steal the Golden Mummy’s treasure.”
“So all that Happy Hippie stuff …” Tommy said, slowly letting it sink into his thick skull.
“I am sorry to have deceived everyone,” Ahmed said, giving a little bow with his hands held together. “But I hope my cooking was satisfactory.”
“It was better than that,” Sam assured him.
“It sure was,” Joe said. “And you know what my favorite dish was? Hard-boiled crooks, well done.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, slapping Lieutenant Ahmed on the back, “very well done!”
16 Echoes of Egypt
Bayport’s annual fair was in full swing the day after Frank and I got back from Egypt. They do it out at Gormley Park, which used to be a really big farm. For one weekend a year, it turns into a full-scale carnival, with rides, 4-H stuff like pig-judging contests, and all kinds of live performances.
Frank and I were dog tired and jet-lagged, so we might have slept in and missed all the fun if diet and Iola hadn’t stopped by and rung the doorbell.
“Come on!” Chet demanded, barging into our room and yanking the pillows out from under our heads. “I can smell the fried dough all the way across town!”
Chet, to put it bluntly, eats too much every day of his life. But the weekend of the Bayport Fair, he throws all restraint to the wind and goes totally hog-wild. It’s a riot, just watching him as he packs it away—all kinds of junk food, from burgers and franks to … well, to fried dough.
Yuck.
Iola said, “I’ll be downstairs—hurry up!” and left us to get dressed.
Half an hour later we all hit the fairgrounds. The first thing that struck me as weird was the gigantic pyramid. There it stood, smack in the middle of the field.
“What in the—?” Frank said, stopping in his tracks when he saw it.
“Oh, yeah,” Iola said, grinning. “It’s an Egyptian theme this year. Check out the big slide over there.”
She pointed to a slide that looked like a sphinx with a long, steel tongue, down which kids were riding in a steady stream.
“Can you believe this?” I asked Frank.
“No way,” he said.
“They’re saying Samantha Chilton’s new reality show is going to be awesome!” Iola said. “It’s all the rage. Are you guys seriously starring in it? ’Cause that’s what I heard. How on earth did you get on the show? Oh wait, don’t tell me—just Hardy luck. Always in the right place at the right time.”
Uh … sure.
“I don’t know about ‘starring,’” Frank said modestly.
“That is so cool!” Iola said, clapping her hands. “Can I, like, have your autographs?”
I wasn’t sure how we’d explain the whole Beautiful People thing—but I figured we’d cross that bridge when we got to it. I smiled, took out a pencil, and scribbled my name on the napkin Iola had spread on Frank’s back.
“Omigosh, I know them!” Chet said, mimicking her.
Just then, this really annoying mime came up to us. He was painted all in gold, he had King Tut’s famous multicolored hat on, and he started doing that funky Egyptian head movement from side to side.
“Hey” I said, “thanks, but could you go do your thing for somebody else?”
He ignored me, doing the head and neck thing right in Frank’s and my face, backing us up until we were quite a ways from Chet and Iola.
“Excuse me,” Frank said to the guy, “but we haven’t seen our friends in a long time, and we’d like to hang with them, okay? Thanks for understanding.”
But the guy didn’t seem to understand at all. He kept it up, and now, reaching into his golden skirt thingy, he drew out a golden DVD and handed it to me.
“What?” I asked. “Are you selling this or something?”
“We don’t want to buy anything,” Frank said, taking the DVD from me and handing it back to the mime. “Please. Could you just leave us alone?”
But the mime kept on doing his thing, right in our faces. Talk about annoying!
“Take a hike, pal,” I said, stepping up close to golden boy.
He didn’t budge.
“Frank?”
Frank took hold of one elbow, I took the other, and we lifted “King Tut” off the gr
ound, escorting him to a better location, about fifty feet away.
“Take a hint next time,” I told him, wiping the gold paint off my hands as Frank and I turned to go back to where our friends were waiting.
“Hey!” the mime suddenly said. “Do you want your next case, or don’t you?”
Duh!
“Sure thing,” I said, taking the jewel case from him. “We’ll take it—as long as it doesn’t come with a mummy’s curse attached!”
Exciting fiction from three-time Newbery Honor author Gary Paulsen
Aladdin Paperbacks and Simon Pulse
Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing
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MARS HAS A MILLION DIFFERENT WAYS TO KILL YOU….
The year is 2085. Mars Experimental Station One, a colony built to test humans’ ability to live in an alien and hostile environment, has been in existence for ten years. This functioning city of two thousand people includes only twenty teenagers, each hand selected from the billions on Earth as part of the controversial Asimov Project.
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#1 MAROONED!
#2 MISSING!
#3 MARSQUAKE!
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Imagine a world where families are allowed only two children. Illegal third children—shadow children—must live in hiding, for if they are discovered, there is only one punishment: Death.
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