The Museum (standard:mystery, 3121 words)
Author: Hulsey	Added: Nov 14 2003	Views/Reads: 4286/2409	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
An aging curator's obsession with an Egyptian fertility necklace.

For over twenty years now, Charlie Graves had presided as curator of the
antiquities department at the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge. The 
immaculate, proud, silver-haired man had arrived at the museum early, 
to muse over the ancient Egyptian fertility necklace. The sixty-year 
old curator felt at peace with the valuable necklace, a treasure he had 
grown to love. The Ankh necklace was shaped like a cross, with a loop 
for its upper vertical arm. Bejewelled with rubies and emeralds, it was 
one of the more valuable prizes on show in the lower gallery. 

Charlie's pleasure was interrupted by the reflection in the glass case;
a reflection that seemed to taunt the old man. The verification he 
needed that he was no longer a young man, seeped into his aging body. 
The bags beneath his eyes, the leathery complexion of his face, and the 
receding hairline confirmed his maturity. 

At sixty years of age, he would have been content with five more years
at the museum, but circumstances had ordained that his days at the 
museum would be few. An overheard conversation in the canteen affected 
him greatly. It was as if one of the ancient Greek swords had been 
plunged deeply into his heart. 

"I hear old Charlie's to be replaced eh? Five years before his time, the
lucky bastard... He's had a run for his money though.” 

Clarification of the rumour gained credibility with the introduction of
young Ben, a young whippersnapper who had been sent from the employment 
exchange. "Show him the ropes Charlie," had been the order. "Young Ben 
will be groomed to take over from you in five years time when you 
retire." 

The lying conniving bastards! They had no intention of letting old
Charlie see out his time at the museum. 

"Good morning, Mr Graves." 

The irate old man turned to face his young tormentor. "Ah, Ben. Good
morning. You're early aren't you?" he asked, buttoning up the top 
button of his trainee's red tunic. 

"Well you did say that punctuality is an important asset to have, Mr
Graves." 

Charlie forged a smile and looked over his protégé, the thick black hair
and clear, blue sparkling eyes, evidence of his youth. 

Ben addressed his mentor. "That necklace, Mr Graves; you're very fond of
it aren't you?" 

Charlie, his eyes glassy, turned to face the treasure. "That I am Ben...
Unlike I, that necklace will be around forever... Can you just imagine, 
the necklace probably once caressed the flesh of an ancient Egyptian 
princess?" 

"What is the origin of the necklace, Mr Graves?" 

"Boy, words cannot justify the wonders of the Ankh. What is it? It's a
necklace dedicated to the fertility Goddess, Isis... So the legend 
goes, whoever wears the necklace will be bestowed with a wealth of 
children.” 

Charlie noticed the reddening of the boy's face and the change of
expression. "Is something wrong, Ben?" 

"No, Mr Graves.” 

“It's almost nine... Time to open up." 

Two hours later and they were facing each other in the canteen. Ben's
unusual silence had not gone unnoticed by the older man. Though Ben had 
no doubt been honed to prematurely replace him, Charlie could not help 
but like the boy. 

The seasoned curator looked around the canteen, feeling the mocking eyes
burn into him. He felt nothing for any of them; all he cared about was 
his cherished time at the museum. 


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