The Goddess of Sumer

Another clap of thunder sounded closer this time.  She was glad that Tim hadn’t questioned her too closely about her search – what would she have told him?  She wasn’t very good at lying, but she had promised her uncle complete secrecy.  This whole search was making her uneasy.  Why was this box so important?  And why did he need it now when he was sick in bed?

She reached for another box and set it aside with a sigh.  Too small.  She picked up another and turned it toward the light.  This is the right size.  As she pulled the cardboard flaps apart and felt around inside she reflected on the strangeness of her uncle’s behavior.  Had he gotten involved in something illegal?  That wouldn’t make any sense.  First of all, he had always been a conservative law-abiding citizen.  But even so, between his inheritance and his many business ventures, her uncle was a very wealthy man.  Why would he risk all that?

This must be it!  She leaned forward on her knees and lifted the oddly shaped box out of a nest of brittle straw in the larger carton.  A musky odor – strangely familiar – emanated from the packing crate and suddenly filled her mind with a vision of a huge stone temple.  She shook her head to clear the image and inhaled deeply.   I must be more tired than I thought!  Just then, wind knocked a heavy branch on the roof, startling her and reminding her of the storm outside.  The attic suddenly seemed cold and foreboding, full of dark secrets and danger.  Jessica pushed aside her momentary fear and tried to figure out what she was holding.  This is the weirdest looking hat box I’ve ever seen.  As a matter of fact, I’d be willing to bet my life that there is no hat in this box…. What could it be?  Jessica carried it away from the mess and moved over to the window where there was more space on the floor.  She could see the wind lashing the tree branches around the house; and she shivered involuntarily as she lifted her prize to the meager light.  Intense curiosity washed over her as she turned the box around in her hands, replacing her fear and fatigue with excitement and nervous energy.  He never said I couldn’t look inside, she thought wrestling with her conscience.  It was hexagonal and the lid had very old hinges with an ornate latch and a carved ivory handle.  The badly tarnished exterior was evidently bronze but it was much too heavy to contain a hat – no, something substantial thumped under her hands when she hefted it up and down.   She gently lifted a parchment card that was strung with twine around the handle.  An exhaustive note was scrawled up and down the card in illegible lines, making Jessica wonder if she had the right box after all.  Chinese!  How strange!   Her curiosity finally won.   

She had just removed the last of the tape and was lifting the lid when a loud crash sounded behind her and all the lights went out.  “Oh, my God!” she cried, momentarily paralyzed by the sudden darkness.  The rain was heavier now, echoing through the attic and pounding against the roof.  She slid the box off her lap, and stood up reaching her arms in front of her to feel her way to the top of the stairs.  She opened the door and realized in dismay that the lights were out downstairs, too.  I hope Tim hasn’t left yet!  She wished fervently, clinging to the handrail and treading carefully down the stairs.

The second floor was deathly quiet after the noise of the storm in the attic and Jessica felt another shiver of apprehension.  As her eyes began to adjust, she hurried down the main staircase and headed for the kitchen.  Other than the tick-tock of the antique grandfather clock in the foyer, the ground floor was quiet too.  “I must have missed him!” she thought nervously. “Now it’s my turn to get wet!” She felt skittish at the thought of the long walk to the estate manager’s cottage, and then she scolded herself.   “Grow up!  It’s just a storm!”