We got out, and as Amon spun in a slow circle, I fumbled for my credit card. Amon then turned his attention back to us. Fixing his gaze on the driver, he murmured a few words, and without further comment, the man turned his head, put the car in gear, and drove off. I wonder how long we’re going to be able to keep doing this.
The hotel was opulent, and other than the decor, I could have easily mistaken it for an upscale building in Manhattan. The lobby boasted a five-star restaurant, and the outer sections were lined with expensive shops selling women’s clothing, designer handbags and luggage, and souvenirs; a bar; and an after-hours lounge. There was even a perfumery.
Amon hypnotized the guy at the front desk, and we were soon swept with our meager belongings up to the top floor. They gave Amon keys to the minibar and to a VIP lounge where we could dine in private if we wished. After teaching him how to order from the room service menu, I disappeared into the shower.
Donning a robe and thinking I’d head to bed wearing it instead of my rumpled clothes, I ducked my head into the next room to find Amon surrounded by dishes of food. He sat in the sunshine coming in from the window, not eating. Our view was incredible. Far below was the beautiful Nile, sunlight twinkling across its surface. Though his hair and skin were gleaming, I’d never seen him so melancholy.
“I see you’ve ordered a feast. Aren’t you hungry?” I asked.
“I have no passion for food.”
“That’s very unlike you.”
“Yes. Do you see, Lily?” Amon pointed to the Nile. “I have ridden on this very river countless times and yet I do not know this place.”
“I’m sure the water has eroded the banks over time—”
“I do not mean the dimensions of the river; I mean the land, the people around it. They have been lost, stolen. They have disappeared like the dew before the sun.”
“Amon”—I took his hand and gripped it in mine—“they…we…are still your people. We have new technology, we travel by different means, we have all kinds of jobs you’ve probably never even considered possible, but we are the same. We still have the same needs—we drink, eat, seek friendship and love. We worry over those we care for. We fight in battles. We are hurt. We become ill, and we die.”
“Yes. But perhaps you no longer need a…relic…such as me. Maybe it is time for me to sleep under the glass like the others, never to rise again.”
I wondered how it would feel to waken only once every thousand years, to see the world change and move on without me, to have no ties to anyone, no family. He must be terribly lonely. Though we were as different as two people could possibly be, I knew what being alone did to a person.
Turning my head, I stared at the blue river gleaming below. “The Nile has nurtured and fed countless generations, and it’s still here serving and providing for the people of Egypt. Many may walk along its shore and take it for granted. They may not even think about the kings who rode its waves or the people who depended upon it for drinking water or for crops, but that doesn’t lessen its impact. It doesn’t lessen its importance. Your people may not know you. They may walk past you in the street and never feel your power, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t need you.”
I didn’t know what else to say. I knew how different this raising must have been for him when compared with the other times. Then he was celebrated and now he was forgotten.
Looking up, Amon said, “You are right, Lily.”
“What? How?” I had just been thinking that I was very wrong.
“It does not matter if we acknowledge the sun; it continues to shine regardless of the heed we give it. If my efforts go without recognition, then so be it. I pledged my service to the people of Egypt, and I will continue to provide it until such time as Egypt no longer has need.”
“When might that be?”
“When there is no longer a threat of darkness.”
“That might never happen.”
“Then I shall continue to serve.”
Amon’s hazel eyes looked haunted.
“How are you handling all of this? I mean, all the changes you see in the world must be staggering.”
“You are how I…handle it, Lily.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is difficult to explain.”