The Mummy's Revenge
It really is amazing just how superstitious some people are when it comes to things Egyptian. Mind you, it is amazing how superstitious some people are, full stop. I used to know a girl who was genuinely afraid to walk under ladders and when, in order to demonstrate the folly of her fears, I insouciently walked under a ladder (and, incidentally, came to no harm) she refused to continue in my company, "just in case"! She was equally fearful of black cats, spilled salt and all sorts of other things, so it probably is just as well that she never came to Egypt.
The Egyptian embassy in Berlin recently received a package, delivered by hand. Embassy staff opened it cautiously, just in case it went off with a bang, but found that it contained nothing more ominous than a piece of carved stone and a note from that well-known character, "Anonymous".
The note stated that the writer's step-father, while on a visit to Egypt in 2004, had "stolen" the piece of stone - which probably means that he picked it up from the ground at some ancient site. Ever since he arrived back in Germany, the step-father had suffered unexplained fevers, nausea, paralysis and finally had died of cancer, which the writer was convinced was a demonstration of pharaonic power beyond the grave. Fearful that the hoodoo might strike further afield and consider a step-son fair game in the absence of a real son, Anonymous was making haste to return the stone to Egypt, for his own safety and for the repose of his step-father's soul.
The Egyptian embassy sent the piece of stone back to Egypt by diplomatic pouch and handed it over to the Supreme Council for Antiquities, who are busy trying to work out where it came from. Unless there are some distinctive marks on the stone - which is unlikely, else it would not have been just lying around waiting to be stolen - the chances of it ever being replaced where it came from are minimal.
And, of course, there is always the possibility that the piece of stone was a fake in the first place. Egypt is full of men slaving away in workshops to keep the tourist market supplied with "genuine antikas". It would be just too funny to think of this poor chap convincing himself that he was "Doomed! Doomed!" by ownership of a genuine antique, circa AD 2003, and made in Japan.
Meanwhile, despite my small (but legally acquired) collection of Egyptian objects, I remain in the best of health - and so does my father, whose collection is even larger than mine.
© Kendall K. Down 2009
