“And if you’ll step this way, you’ll
become acquainted with the family mummy, a cherished family member.”
The group filed dutifully into a
dimly lit chamber transformed by trompe l’oeil into an Egyptian tomb. They
clustered around their guide.
“This ancient gentleman is believed
by the Van Pelt family to be a distant relative, based on the location of the
catacombs in Alexandria, Egypt, where he was laid to rest.”
“Do they know his name?” inquired a
man to Melchiora’s right.
“Knatphornatten,” she replied.
Melchiora paused, then continued,
refreshed.
“This room depicts the second level
of the catacombs. The spiral staircase in the far corner was the means by which
bodies were brought down to the center of the tomb, then placed in a designated
burial niche. Note the sculptures, eerily alive in appearance. Pillars are
topped with lotus, acanthus leaves, papyrus, and two falcons below a winged
sun. Also note the Egyptian hair decoration and the Roman style of clothing.”
“Beautiful,”’ breathed an observer.
“The Van Pelt’s, like many Gold
Coast Families, went to great expense and excess to provide a proper setting
for their mummy. Other families did not consider their acquired mummy to be
family, as the Van Pelts did. They hosted lavish dinner parties with famous,
often royal guests, with unwrapping of the mummy as after dinner
entertainment.” To the varied murmurs she replied, “So it goes.”
Melchiora approached the body in the
center of the room encased in glass. The visitors drew around her and gazed
silently at the dark gray head and hands of the deceased, exposed above the
wrappings.
“Mummies of this time period, approximately
2 AD, were embalmed and wrapped with hands forced forward on the front of the
body. They were left uncovered. The facial cloth has been removed. The reason
for this pose is an obeisance to Bastet, and to fend off any who would violate
his remains.”
“I’ve studied Egyptian artifacts as
an apprentice at The Natural History Museum in LA before going into historic
furniture. I never heard anything like this,” stated a young woman with a
serious expression.
Melchiora shifted her eyes to her
questioner’s face before turning her head to address her.
“The dynasties of the early
Christian calendar have many historic intricacies that often vary from what is
more commonly known. I have my information from a visiting scholar of obscure
antiquities from Vienna. He gave a lecture here when he came to see the estate
and I have complete faith in him.”
The young woman nodded her head
slightly in acceptance of the hallowed word of a professor. Satisfied that her
guests were once again with her, Melchiora went on.
“Macabre as this setting may be, a
certain family practice is even more so. On specific occasions of the year,
Knatphornatten had a companion in his bed chamber of sorts. One of the family
would have a small divan brought in and sleep beside him.”
Melchiora drew her eyes from the
mummy’s form to the faces of her listeners. Riveted.
“Why would they do that?” gasped a
woman with a tight grip on the shoulders of her son in front of her. “That’s
gruesome!”
Melchiora noted that the son
exhibited a wide, pleased smile.
“I couldn’t begin to tell you.”
The group followed Melchiora into
the intricately carved, black-walnut hallway. A question floated from behind
her.
“And how did they make their money?”
In the cavernous sitting room
flanked by hearths guarded by iron lions poised on hind legs, Melchiora turned
and replied, “Shipping. The Van Pelt Shipping Enterprises was a stable
conglomerate for many, many decades. Of course their wealth was also due to
contraband imported into the country under the innocent guise of shipments to
private companies. They didn’t exist. Stolen artifacts were sold to
unscrupulous collectors.”
“They really were robber barons,”
exclaimed a man as he gazed up at the embossed ceiling.
Melchiora stifled the impulse to
laugh.
“How long have you worked at this
museum?” he queried.
“Oh, it’s been seven years now.
Before this, I was up state in Elk Hollow at a small museum dedicated to the
history of the Green Mountain Boys.”
At his blank stare she said, “You
know, the Battle of Mauritania. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure I have.”
Melchiora led them through the
lavish bedrooms on the second floor. In each she provided an interesting
personal tidbit concerning a former inhabitant.
“Trisha Van Pelt had a heated house
built for her cats. Her father was allergic… Mrs. Olivia Van Pelt had special
corsets designed to hide an odd deformity in her back… Harold Van Pelt suffered
from an unusual rash that he contracted from going abroad. It could only be
treated with leeches… Lorelei Van Pelt spoke eleven languages… Corporal John
Van Pelt collected rare beetles…Mr. Rory Van Pelt rolled cigars from leaves
from his prized rhododendrons.
As they returned to the grand foyer,
Melchiora put on her high-wattage smile and thanked them for coming. She gave a
slight bow to their applause.
“Thank you for your interest in the
story of the Van Pelts!”
(866 words)
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