The Year of the Great Seventh (11 page)

“Is there any way I could help your hypothetical friend? I know some doctors who work in the field,” Dad said, trying to cheer me up.

“No thanks. It’s okay. I need to finish putting these into boxes.” I stood up and paced into the walk-in closet with a box full of books. Kneeling on the floor, I placed the existing boxes on top of each other to save space. Then I heard Dad closing the door behind him. I grabbed the new box and rested it on top of the others. The bottom cardboard box collapsed due to the weight, and all the boxes fell to the floor. Hundreds of papers flew around the walk-in closet.

I couldn’t do it. I needed to get out of here. These walls were smothering me. How could life be so cruel?

I changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top and put on the necklace that Dad had given me. Rushing downstairs, I grabbed Mom’s keys, got into the car, and drove to the Getty Center.

Last summer I worked at the Getty and enjoyed every minute of it. It was the only place in L.A. where I could find real peace of mind. The museum was secluded on the summit of a hill, leaving the frenetic speed of L.A. down beneath. It was a spiritual sanctuary.

The gardens and the stylish white buildings made for a beautiful setting overlooking the L.A. skyline. The people who worked at the Getty were mostly retirees who had too much spare time on their hands. In fact, I was the only person under sixty working during the summer. I got along with them really well. Mom always told me I was an old-spirited young girl.

The internship program coordinator had said he was going to leave my recommendation letter at the information desk. Melancholy filled every part of me when I got off the tram that took me from the parking lot to the summit of the hill. It made me realize last summer had been the best one of my life. I wished I could turn back time.

My job at the museum had been playing the introduction video at the small entrance theater. The job itself wasn’t very exciting, but I loved spending days at the museum. I got to meet likeminded people interested in art and history, and most important, I discovered, like Dad, history was my real passion.

The mid-afternoon sun seemed like a disc of fire and the sky was a vivid red. The water cascaded into a reflecting pool surrounded by red flowers in the central garden. The dramatic scenery made me think of Nate.

I couldn’t believe there was no hope for him. He was going to have to wait for his fate without even an opportunity to put up a fight. My heart sank at the thought of Nate the previous night, the car window, the pain.

I went into the museum entrance hall and headed straight for the information desk. Like every day last summer, Mary Clarke, a retired anthropologist, satisfied people’s curiosities about the exhibits.

“Sophie, I’m so glad to see you! How are you my dear?” Mary exclaimed with a toothy grin.

“Hi, Mary. I’m fine. How are you? Has it been busy around here?” I asked, reclining on the counter.

“Oh, dear! Those elementary school trips are too much for an old lady like me.” Mary chuckled, lowering her voice.

The entrance hall was in chaos with a bunch of children running around out of control. The teachers struggled to get them to line up. Two little ones chased each other around the information desk.

“Thank God we’re closing at six. I need a day off after today.” Mary rolled her eyes at me.

The children seemed to multiply by the second. Every time I turned, there were a few more of them running around the entrance hall.

“You may want to check the new Ancient Egypt exhibit until these little buggers clear off. Believe me, you don’t want to be stuck with them in the tram.” Mary winked at me, handing me a large white envelope.

Feeling sorry for Mary, I fled as quickly as I could manage. Those screaming children were too much, even for me.

I spent a couple of hours at the Research Center checking out an exhibit about Rembrandt’s drawings and looking at some books. I could spend hours here without really noticing the time flying by.

Before leaving for the evening, I decided to check the exhibit that Mary recommended. The temporary exhibits were always displayed on the ground floor of the north pavilion.

The exhibit had completely changed since last time I was there. Through the summer, an exhibit of European paintings from the nineteenth century had been on display. Now the room was filled with glass cases that held papyruses. The larger ones hung from the walls. The first papyrus I walked up to had golden Egyptian symbols with a beige background.

I went around the room, observing the others in the cases. Each one was the size of a paperback book. The pages, deteriorated by the passage of time, were also beige and covered with golden lettering. There was a large red papyrus hanging on one of the walls. It seemed to be the paramount piece of the collection as it was the largest one. It, too, was covered with golden hieroglyphics. To the side, an information plaque explained that it dated from 30 BC, the time of Cleopatra and Mark Antony.

The translated text read:

“Ammateus, marked by the legend of Orion, will suffocate with his own hands the life that guides him. Then he will bring the sons of Satan back from the death, marking the end of it all.

“Only the divine stone found where heaven meets Earth will save her. The salvation to both lies beneath.”

I skimmed through the text, and it explained some background below the translation. It said something about the Egyptian people fearing a night spirit known as
Ammateus
that was supposed to bring the end of the world. It also mentioned they believed a divine stone could protect them from this night spirit. It was a gift from the gods to protect the Egyptians.

I was about to move on to the next papyrus, when a word rang a bell. The first one was “
Ammateus
.”

I knew I’d heard this word before, but I couldn’t remember exactly where. Dad tutored me about Ancient Egypt a few days ago. I remembered we’d spoken about Egyptian mythology, the gods and demons, and how Egyptians erected obelisks to be protected from the night spirits. But he hadn’t mentioned the word
Ammateus
.

He described how gods and demons had adopted different names through different stages of Ancient Egypt. I was almost sure that
Ammateus
hadn’t been one of them. I couldn’t remember where I heard that word, and I moved on to the next papyrus. Trying to read through the next information plaque, I couldn’t let it go. I knew I’d heard it before, but I couldn’t remember where.

Flashbacks played in my mind.

My throat contracted. This couldn’t be for real.

I went back to the large exhibit and read the word out loud. Ethan’s party and the parking lot. Nate had said that word each time he’d had an episode.

The previous night I promised Nate as we stood together outside his house that I would stay away from him for my own good—and for his. I had to fulfill his wishes, whether I liked it or not, and be the invisible girl I had always been.

Was I contriving a reason to break my promise? The text on the papyrus made no sense. I asked myself if this is how a desperate mind worked. Surely Nate would think that if I contacted him again the very next day.

I couldn’t think about it any longer. Holding my breath, I grabbed my phone and texted Nate.

You need to come to the Getty Center. It’s really important.

I continued to examine the papyruses in the same area to see whether any others mentioned the same word. They were divided in chronological sections. None of the others seemed to be related to Mark Antony and Cleopatra.

My phone beeped within seconds.

Is everything all right?

Please hurry. You need to see something.

I keyed the letters with the speed of sound.

A pause and then another message came in.

Is everything all right? What is it?

The museum closed at six o’clock. Nate only had half an hour to drive from Beverly Hills. He needed to hurry.

No time to explain. Please, you need to come. It’s really important!

Nate texted right back.

Okay, I’ll be there soon.

I went outside and sat on the marble stairs where I could watch the tram arriving at the museum. The sun was setting and the darkness of the night tinted the multicolored sky. The city lights were slowly coming to life.

The breeze was quickly picking up on top of the hill. At this time of year, the temperature dropped as soon as night fell. My tank top didn’t really keep me warm so I brought my knees close to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. The tram climbed up and down the hill with not a single passenger. I followed it with my gaze, eager for Nate’s arrival.

Why did Nate murmur the word
Ammateus
to himself when he was having an episode? Now I could clearly picture him saying it at Ethan’s party and also last night in the parking lot. Maybe he’d read that word in a book and it came afloat from his subconscious when he lost control. What about the freckles on his back shaped like the Orion constellation? Wasn’t that too much of a coincidence?

On the tram’s seventh trip, I spotted a passenger in the first car. That had to be Nate. Getting up from the steps for a better view, I quickly recognized him.

He’d seen me, too. As soon as the tram doors opened, Nate ran toward me. Then he hesitated. As he approached again from the distance, I realized his hair had grown noticeably longer since the beginning of the school year. The locks of hair fell slightly over his face, emphasizing his almond-shaped eyes and his olive skin. He looked as impeccable as always with his worn-out jeans and untucked black shirt. His sleeves were rolled up. He was genuinely beautiful, almost to the extent it was painful for me.

“Sophie, what’s going on? Why did you text me?” He gasped.

There was no time to waste. It was six o’clock and the museum was closing.

“Come, hurry!”

“But what’s—” he started, without moving. His arms were crossed over his chest.

“There’s no time. The museum’s about to close,” I instructed over my shoulder, climbing the steps to the entrance.

Looking utterly puzzled, Nate followed behind.

There were no visitors in the museum, only the staff closing up for the day.

“Mary, can we come in? I just want to show him something.” I rushed past the information desk not even waiting for her answer.

We ran into the North Pavilion and continued to the corner where I found the papyrus.

“Look!” I said, pointing at the golden letters.

“What’s this?”

“The word
Ammateus
. The word you always say.” I announced it as though I’d deciphered the world’s best-kept secret.

“Sophie, what are you talking about?” he insisted, staring directly at me and absolutely ignoring the papyrus.

“When you have an episode, you always murmur the word
Ammateus
,” I said, pointing at the word on the papyrus.

“Sophie, I thought something happened to you. You can’t just… You can’t do that to me ever again. Don’t you remember what you agreed to last night?” Nate rushed to say.

“But don’t you see it? There must be a reason why you say that word…” I made one more vain attempt to make Nate come to his senses.

“Sophie, please stop. Why are doing this to me? You know we shouldn’t be here together.” Nate’s frustration was escalating by the moment.

“But don’t you see it…? Maybe there’s a way to cure you… The… the Egyptians knew what was wrong with you…” My gaze fixed on the ground, unable to look him in the eye.

Nate was strangely relaxed in contrast to what he was saying. In fact, I’d never seen him so under control. “Please, Sophie! You need to listen to me.” Nate rested his hand on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eye.

“But the Egyptians… You always repeat that…” I kept mumbling.

“Please, Sophie… you need to stop saying that. There’s nothing that can cure me. You need to understand it.” He raised his voice slightly.

“There’s always a way,” I insisted, looking down at my hands.

Nate’s grip tightened on my shoulders, and with a comforting voice, he insisted one more time. “I know you want to help me, but you need to accept the reality. I promise if you do, everything will be all right.”

“But…,” I said so quietly I barely heard my own voice.

Then it all hit me at once. I could clearly see that my words made no sense. Now that I thought of it, Nate could really have been saying anything because he always mumbled when having an episode. Also, the freckles on his back—with some imagination, you could make them into any shape. I wanted to help him so badly that I was letting my mind play tricks on me. Sometimes you can’t fight destiny.

“I’ll be okay… I promise,” Nate whispered.

This was something new for me. I’d always been told that there’s nothing you can’t achieve if you put your entire effort into it. I felt as if all I’d ever believed in meant nothing.

“It’s okay, Sophie. It’s okay.”

I nodded, unable to utter a word.

“That’s what I do. I just don’t think about it. I just take one day at a time,” Nate explained. I could feel his piercing dark eyes fixed on me. “You have to promise you’ll never think about this again, okay? Otherwise, it will drive you insane.” Nate laughed at the unintentional irony of what he said. He put his hand under my chin and forced me to look at him.

Tears were cascading down my cheeks. Nate hadn’t lost his composure a bit. I was the one breaking into pieces. Nate seemed to cope with it well. Once our eyes met, there was nothing I could deny him. He was just too beautiful.

“Okay.” I managed to say it without looking at him. “I will never think about it again.”

A security guard stepped into the room, making us step away from each other at once. The guard stared at us as though he suspected we were hiding something.

He slowly strode away, but he watched us out of the corner of his eye. As soon as he left the room, I ordered without explanation, “Follow me. I want to show you something.”