Ascent - Passion's Paradox - VOL.1

.12. Neferu NepTet

The flight of my private jet has taken off for a while when I look through the window on my right. I raise my glass of champagne to my mouth and take a sip. It is real and has a slight sweet taste. It's an occasion to savor it when I think that for the weekend I can escape this house. Every first Saturday evening of the month, I make it a point to get to my destination to say hello to the few family members who are where I'm headed. Tonight is the night I've been looking forward to.

The flight passes without turbulence of course, a little background music wanders through the atmosphere of the jet until we land on a privatized field. I'm already facing the door when the jet gradually lands on the runway and sends everything in the vicinity flying with its violent gusts, that is to say nothing except the clothes on the people who usually help on the runways.

The stairs fall and meet the ground as the door is opened for me. I indicate to Brentley who wanted to accompany me to take care of my bags, while I walk down the stairs as calmly as possible, my long coat lightly on my shoulders. It was in Queens that I went, this old home that I missed.

"I drop by to pay a little visit to my uncle, Brentley", I smile at him once I'm on the trail and my hand is on my hair as if it's going to fly away. "Is my old apartment still the same as it was before?"

"Of course, miss. We've made sure that everything has stayed in place since you left."

"That's fine. I'd rather spend the night there than at my uncle's. I wouldn't want to disturb them, but make sure he has everything he needs before he leaves, will you?"

My maternal uncle and his wife Sarah have lived in Queens since I was in grade school. In the past, these two built up significant wealth around the same time as my mother but in Egypt through their port holdings -which despite their bank accounts still pampers them. But despite all the gifts she showered them with, they refused to live the pharaonic life they could. According to my mother, they want to live modestly in spite of this and have contributed a lot to the public infrastructure in both Queens and Egypt at the time. It's a very honorable way to live, and not many families in Manhattan can say the same. Least of all me.

Reems and Sarah know the value of money, and the good it can do, but also the values it can create, unlike me. They are both good people whom I have had the pleasure of knowing. They taught me a lot of values that I still carry deep inside me, when I had to live a few years with them both.

"Tell me! Do you eat Neferu? You look like a living corpse!"

I arrived probably hours ago but nothing changes. It makes me smile. Only Sarah and Reems would react this way to trifles.

We are sitting around a coffee table in a living room with a traditional intricately patterned rug on the floor, the walls covered with tapestries and paintings while upstairs is a modest yellowed effect lamp that sets off the living room perfectly. They know how to make things look good out of nothing. Away from the sofas around the walls, we find ourselves in the center. The table is covered with a trivet with a huge dish prepared by Sarah.

"Oh Sarah", I smile at her with an amused look. "I have a perfectly acceptable line. You've only lost track of me for a month. Nothing has changed."

"On the contrary, in thirty-one days, a lot has changed. By dint of making you run this company must have made you lose ten kilos!"

She always had a tendency to exaggerate. And even though Reems doesn't express himself as much as she does, he doesn't seem to think any less. They say that grandparents are the ones who normally act like this. It looks like they're not the only ones here.

"Your aunt is right, Neferu", Reems intervenes and prepares to put his hand in the dish, but Sarah slaps her fingers and dissuades him with a stern look.