Tombquest: Book of the Dead

Death's Door

The humidity was swamp-like as Alex and his mom waited for the crosstown bus the next morning. Everyone was sweating and impatient. Alex knew that when she was by herself, his mom walked to work. But in the last year, the trip had become too hard for him on bad days. In this heat, it was out of the question. So his mom pretended she liked the crowded, loud bus. She tried to make it an adventure, just like when she used to stay home and read to him when he couldn't make it to school, calling his sick days "story days." He could see right through it, but he played along.

When they'd gone home the night before, he'd wanted to ask her about the Book of the Dead. But he couldn't find the words to express exactly why some old rags haunted him so much.

"What's that on the horizon?" his mom said, reaching down to nudge him.

He sleepily poked his head out over Eighty-Sixth Street and peered into the distance. It always took him a long time to wake up in the morning, and today the sticky heat felt like a web he had to push through. He looked out at the traffic and finally saw what his mom was talking about. "Bus," he said.

At the sound of this single word, a pair of old men in worn-out suits roused themselves from the bus stop bench. Alex's mom leaned down and whispered, "You have powerful magic, my son. You have summoned the Ancient Ones!"

Alex managed a laugh despite his aching chest, and his mom leaned farther out to check on the bus's progress. As she did, her Egyptian scarab necklace swung out and caught the morning sun. The polished blue stone shone softly and the refined copper borders gleamed. She reached out instinctively with her right hand and pressed the winged beetle back to her chest, as if pledging allegiance. It was just about the only piece of jewelry she owned, and Alex had never seen her without it.

As they climbed aboard the bus, the cranked-up air conditioning washed over them. It felt nice, but Alex stared out the window the whole way, imagining not just walking alongside the bus, but running. These daydreams never worked out for him. At recess he used to fantasize about hitting a Wiffle ball high off the wall only to end up striking out — and hurting himself on the swing. But his body felt like a prison sometimes, and daydreams were a look out the window.

The bus hit a pothole and jarred his brittle body. The dream ended. His thoughts returned to the real world.

"Is the exhibition opening today?" he asked.

His mom shook her head. "Tomorrow. There's still one last artifact we haven't installed. So we've got a ton of work to get done today to get everything ready."

Her voice was tense. Whatever this thing was, it was important.

Soon enough, Alex and the rest of the world would discover what belonged in the case for Exhibit 7A6.

~

Alex looked for Ren in all the usual spots once he got to the museum. Finally, he gave up and texted her. The reply was quick and disappointing. She was on her way to the big Costco on 117th with her mom.

It figures, Alex thought. With two parents, his best friend spent half as much time at the museum as he did.

He disliked battling the crowds during the day, so he hid out in the office and played video games for hours, slipping into a trance where he could forget about his own achy body. His avatar leapt over obstacles, swung heavy objects like they were pillows, and had a special victory dance where he flexed his bulging biceps, which Alex thought was particularly impressive.

His mom came by around noon and they went to lunch at a diner. It was a short walk, but the air was hot and sticky and thick and it took Alex a long time. He'd noticed that whenever his mom had to slow herself down for him, her energy burst out in other ways. Today she fidgeted with her hair — first unclipping it from its tight bun and letting it fall down past her shoulders.