Alexandria
/“It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Harris.”
“No it’s very nice to meet you! THE Vincent Cedrics!” exclaimed Mr. Harris. Vincent blushed and gave a modest smile. “Would you like some tea before we proceed?”
“No, thank you but could I help myself to some biscuits?” asked Vincent.
“Absolutely, please help yourself. Now then, why don’t we just start from the beginning.”
Well it all started back in 1949. I was entering the prime of my life but I was still young. I barely remember going to classes; I partied often, smoked a lot of weed, and made quite a number of female friends. One day near the end of that term, one of my professors came to me and asked me to join him on his annual archeology trips. My father kept insisting that I take my studies more seriously now that the war had been over for a few years. I took the opportunity to show I was trying, so I said yes.
It started out pretty innocent. I joined my professor every summer on his trips. Traveling around Asia, Europe, Africa and the Middle East. My personal favorite was going to Japan. One of the most beautiful cultures. It wasn’t until I graduated from Oxford with a degree in Archaeology that my passion for traveling and exploring the world latched onto me. It was all that I wanted to do; and my parents’ wealth made it possible.
One of my trips led me to the Mediterranean. I spent my days wandering the beautiful landscapes and sailing the water. In the evenings I would take time and paint my view. One particular evening in May I heard this old, battered-looking man describing a place he claimed to be called Alexandria and how beautiful it is and the untold treasure and knowledge that lay within it. I thought to myself how a man barely over 60 could know what Alexandria looks like. Everyone thought he was crazy. But for some reason this captured my interest. I bought the old man a drink and a meal and asked him to tell me more about what he saw and where he went. Day after day I spent time with the old man trying to straighten out the maze of his hippocampus in search of his guide to Alexandria. After possibly 3 weeks, I finally had what I believed to be a detailed map to the Library of Alexandria. That was the hard part, everything from there was simple.
I sort of already had a group of men that I could take on this journey with me. Did I trust them? Hell no! But as long as you keep a ferocious dog happy, he’ll be loyal. I sold them the promises of adventure, money, women, food, and fame. So on the journey we went. Myself, Patrick, Nigel, and a strange gentleman named Kiki. Kiki was the muscle. He had a tall, bodybuilder figure with mysterious scars over his body. Kiki however didn’t speak our tongue so I had to rely on Nigel. Nigel looked like someone you would find in a magazine. He looked like the perfect man for any women – except for the fact that he was a deeply cruel and selfish inside. Patrick on the other hand was a dreamer and poet like myself. He would do anything for adventure. Patrick was my best friend. We both grew up in England. He went to Cambridge, got in just off his smarts unlike myself who needed my father’s money and connections.
We spent six months, three weeks, and five days on the road. It wasn’t until one day that Kiki had to go to the bathroom. Now it is quite difficult when you are a man of his size and you are trying to squat down. By sheer luck of ours Kiki fell and the ground broke beneath him. Patrick, full of excitement, was the first to jump into the hole. There was a deathly silence for a few moments when suddenly we hear, “BLOODY HELL, WE ACTUALLY FOUND IT!!” There it was, right beneath our feet, feces beneath our boots, but here we were at last… The long lost Library of Alexandria.
Now take the idea of what we think of as a library and throw it out. This was more of a catalogue of civilizations of the past. There were endless rows of priceless gems, ancient weaponry, blueprints, artifacts, paintings, unknown technology, military plans, and scriptures. It was more like a time capsule and a wonder to behold.
We spent that first three days forging a pathway to come and go. We mostly had everything we needed, except for food. We wondered the library days, weeks even. Patrick and I would spend our days engrossed in cataloguing what we found, deciphering the remains of ancient civilizations before us. Even Kiki, in awe of the place, would roam and look at the different ancient weaponry and artifacts. But I should have felt that darkness and the greed swelling up in Nigel. His eyes would flair up just from looking around at the gold and gems lying around. He wasn’t much into the books and the scriptures. Nigel was more interesting in how much he could carry at once. He looked at Alexandria as a way out. His life hadn’t been easy and now this was his chance to change everything.
“You never mentioned how you ended up meeting these men.” interrupted Mr. Harris.
“Well, Patrick and I met my final year of Uni. Patrick was an artist. He was probably the only other guy who loved drugs more than me at that time. I would see him at every party I ever went to. We had similar taste in everything. It was just a matter of time before we became friends. Patrick and I met Nigel and Kiki in Zanzibar, I believe they call it Tanzania now. They were very both good looking men and Nigel was fluent in swahili. Kiki has a speech issue, so Nigel spoke for him. We met at a gentleman’s bar and they basically saved us from getting killed by a couple of men. Patrick and I were skilled at Poker and these men didn’t take getting hustled to kindly.
Mr. Harris laughs.
“Nigel had a decent little boat and we thought it would be a nice idea to travel together. We all had the same native tongue and were looking for an adventure – why not stick together.” Vincent paused, looking down at his hands and played with a gem-encrusted ring he had on his finger. “Sometimes though I wish I had known what I know now.”
Mr. Harris gave him a peculiar look of curiosity.
There was a day in February when we went to the nearby village to stock up on food. Patrick spotted Nigel trying to sell a valuable gold necklace to a strange looking man. We immediate grabbed him and took him back to the library.
“We could be rich! But instead you are all more interested in just looking around and writing things down in your little notebooks!” Nigel yelled throwing the necklace back on one of the piles of jewelry. “When are we going to get around to getting the money and fame that was promised?…huh!” He added.
Patrick and I tried to reason with Nigel explaining that once the world knew about the library people would come from all over to get a piece and tamper with the authenticity of the items. We had to catalogue what was there so we can preserve as much as possible. The wealth would come off the knowledge we had. The artifacts, gems, and jewelry need to be given to the museums and preserved so that the world could see. Nigel just stormed off, unwilling to hear reason.
A few days later, to cover more ground, Nigel and Patrick went to explore a different section of the library together while Kiki and I explored another. Almost as soon as we were alone Kiki tried to kill me. By sheer chance I moved out of the way just in time and Kiki fell upon some spiked artifacts and died almost instantly. Driven by fear I ran and went looking for Patrick and Nigel. After a while I heard a voice. It was Nigel.
“Kiki, let’s get out of here!” he yelled as he ran
towards the exit.
As soon as Nigel came around the bend and saw me instead of Kiki, he knew what had happened. Nigel ran towards me to attack just like Kiki had done. I knew … I simply knew my best friend was no longer of this world. I would never have been able to physically take on Nigel and I knew what I had to do, what my only option was. I grabbed my bag which had my several notebooks, a couple artifacts and jewels and ran towards the exit. I closed the entrance and locked Nigel in behind me and released the flood gates.
“But wait, how could you have flooded it? I thought that Alexandria was landlocked.” inquired Mr. Harris.
“Let’s just say Historians weren’t exactly right about the location of the library. That is a secret I will take to my grave.” Vincent looked down at his ring again with a distant look in his eyes. His mind flooded with a blurry memory. He was running through the library … rows and rows passing him … suddenly he stops and looks down upon the dead and battered body of his best friend, Patrick. Full of remorse and sadness, Vincent lifts Patrick’s hand and removes his ring. A simple gem-encrusted ring.
“I noticed you keep playing with your ring, it must mean a lot to you?”
Vincent simply replied, “You have no idea.”
THE END