Archie and the Cursed Artifact
The late 1914 afternoon sun streamed through young Cora’s bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the worn hardwood floor. With a sigh, she leaned back against the faded patchwork quilt draped over her bed, the pages of her adventure book fluttering in the gentle breeze.
“Cora. What’cha reading?” The familiar high-pitched voice pierced the tranquil silence.
Cora scanned the top of her bookshelf filled with adventure books behind many cherished figurines. Kel and Uda, the two mischievous three-inch magical living wood carved Villagers looked down, their imploring eyes eager to get her attention. “What now? Don’t you see I’m busy?” her tone was laced with reluctance.
“We want to show you something, something we found!” Kel exclaimed, his eyes wide.
Uda nodded vigorously. “You’ve been spending so much time reading these days. We miss our adventures together.”
Cora’s grip tightened on the book, her knuckles turning white. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m 12 years old now,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I’ve outgrown those games.”
Kel and Uda exchanged a glance of confusion before Uda produced a crumpled slip of paper from behind her. “We have something that might change your mind,” she said in a mischievous tone.
Cora eyed the paper with skepticism. “What’s this?”
“The first clue,” Kel replied, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
With an annoyed grunt, Cora slammed the book on the bed and got to her feet. Kel and Uda looked down as if ready for another mischievous prank. She took the paper out of Uda’s hand and unfolded it. Cora squinted at the messy scrawl. “Follow the trail to find the treasure that awaits…”
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Uda prodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Cora wavered, torn between her desire to lose herself in the pages of her book and the allure of a real-life adventure Kel and Uda concocted. With a reluctant sigh, she gazed up at the twin Villagers. “Fine, but this better be good.”
Kel and Uda exchanged a victorious giggle as Cora walked out of her room and down the hallway, following the cryptic clues.
The first stop was the library, where Cora was instructed to pull out an old favorite children’s book she had long since abandoned. As she reached for the tattered volume, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. She remembered the countless hours she had spent poring over the stories of families and friends who cherished their time together. That, and how her mother would read these stories and made her safe at home while off on an imaginary adventure. The pangs of longing tugged at her heart.
As she opened the book, a slip of paper fluttered to the floor, revealing the next destination: the kitchen.
Cora’s mother greeted her with a warm smile as she entered, her hands dusted with flour from the bread dough she was kneading. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Would you like to help me with dinner?”
“No. I’m on some stupid adventure put together by Kel and Uda. And I’m also still too young to cook dinner,” Cora said with the pangs of guilt against her mother who only had a desire to spend time with her.
“You’ll have to learn how to cook for your future spouse and family,” her mother said, brushing her hair off her forehead with the back of her hand, her fingers still covered in flour.
Cora shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m on an adventure,” she replied curtly, scanning the room for the next clue. Her gaze landed on the well-worn cookbook propped open on the counter, and she flipped through the pages until another slip of paper fluttered out, directing her to her father’s office. Cora grunted and hurried away to avoid her mother from convincing her to help.
As she entered the unoccupied cozy, yet masculine, lumber businessman’s office, the scent of pipe tobacco and ink enveloped her. Her father’s framed photographs of logging expeditions adorned the walls, capturing moments frozen in time. Cora’s heart swelled with fondness as she recalled the times her father had taken her along to the camps, furthering her love for adventure.
The note instructed her to look behind a specific frame that rested upon the desk—a picture of her and her father from one of those cherished trips. With a chuckle, Cora remembered the trip when her father introduced her to the new lumberjacks and expressed his pride in having her by his side, a sentiment shared on many other occasions. Her hands shook as she picked up the frame from the desk, discovering a hidden clue behind it that urged her to explore the living room.
With another grunt, Cora marched to the living room. She reinspected the badly scribbled scrap of paper that instructed Cora to position a chair beside the tall bookshelf and ascend to the top. In an old frame, she discovered an old photograph. The picture and frame, both from the 1870s, depict her grandparents and their children with serious expressions, despite their typically jovial nature. She reminded herself of her mother’s stories of her grandmother, Sarah, coming to America from Norway, and Sarah’s mother’s death during the voyage, were vivid in her memory. The tragedy happened at such a young age. Moreover, Sarah was 12 years old then, at Cora’s age now. The story concluded as Sarah’s father comforted her, and she did move on and have a joyous life with their new family shown in this picture.
As Cora peered behind the frame, she heard a chorus of shouts. “Surprise!” Kel and Uda leaped out from behind the picture frame, their faces split into wide grins.
Cora’s heart sank as realization dawned. “You two tricked me!”
“We just wanted to have one more adventure with you,” Uda explained, her smile faltering. “You’ve been so grown-up lately, and we miss the fun we used to have.”
Nodding solemnly, Kel brought out a shiny object from behind him. “Here’s your real treasure—a brand new 1914 penny.”
Cora’s eyes narrowed as she snatched the coin from his outstretched hand. “Where did you get this?”
Kel averted her gaze, scuffing his foot from on top of the bookshelf. “We… might have taken it from your sister Anna’s purse.”
“You stole it?” Cora’s voice rose, laced with disappointment. “That’s wrong, and you know it.”
Uda hung her head. “We’re sorry, Cora. Are we in big trouble with Anna?”
Before Cora could respond, Kel piped up. “But look at the mark under the date. What is that mark?”
“Yeah, we couldn’t figure it out,” Uda said.
Cora’s brow furrowed as she examined the coin closer. “It’s the letter ‘D’,” she murmured, perplexed.
“We see that, but what does it mean?” Uda asked, leaning in with wide eyes.
“Does that mean that is a genuine treasure?” Kel asked.
Cora shook her head, her lips pursed. Without another word, she crossed the room and slipped the penny back into Anna’s purse, her heart heavy with disappointment.
As she returned to her bedroom, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she had wasted her time on a fruitless adventure, all for the sake of a worthless penny. With a sigh, she sank back onto her bed and opened her book, determined to lose herself in the pages once more.
*Note: Little did Cora realize the value of that brilliantly shiny 1914 D Lincoln cent penny, mostly worthless then, would now be worth a small fortune. In that condition, the value of that penny would be approximately $3,000 today. That would have been a perfect little gem of a treasure for Cora.
Archie’s University Egyptian Language Project Dream
Young, college student Archie Thorogood sat hunched over a large wooden table in the dimly lit library of the University of London. The air was thick with the musty scent of old books, and the only sounds were the faint rustling of pages and the occasional creak of the floorboards. The ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics sprawled across the parchment in front of him seemed to mock his efforts. Their complex symbols were beyond his comprehension. Perhaps he should have not proudly spouted to his professor that he could learn to decipher the ancient texts of Egypt. His professor then sent him to this difficult assignment. Though exhausted, he did not regret being sent on this task.
Archie ran a hand through his messy brown hair, his eyes straining in the flickering candlelight. He dedicated endless hours to examining these texts in search of the hidden secrets they held. However, the meanings became even more elusive as he continued studying. He felt both frustration and an unwavering determination. No one had ever deciphered the hidden message in these symbols, but he was determined to be the first.
“If only I could have been there,” Archie muttered under his breath. He closed his eyes, imagining himself walking among the ancient Egyptians, hearing their language, understanding their words. “If only I could see these hieroglyphics in their original context, I might finally grasp their true meaning.”
He gazed at the parchment once more. The symbols blending into his exhausted eyes. He wished he could talk to the scribes who had etched these symbols into stone, ask them what each one meant, understand the stories they were trying to tell.
Leaning back in his chair, Archie considered the possibility of briefly resting his eyes, and mind, to regain his understanding of the text. However, the library’s silence only pushed him further away—away from his desk—away from his chair.
The ancient hieroglyphics now appeared on the stone walls and illuminated with an eerie glow from the ambient indoor lights and flickering torchlights. Archie blinked and found himself in a different place, far from the university library. He stood in the grand halls of an Egyptian castle, richly decorated with symbols of power and legacy.
“Truly, the artistry of our ancestors is unmatched,” a voice beside him remarked. Archie turned to find a regal figure draped in fine linen, bedecked with gold jewelry. “Is it not a sight to behold, my friend?”
“Prince Iknokman,” Archie breathed, the name falling from his lips as if he’d known this man his entire life. “The splendor is beyond words.”
Iknokman’s brow furrowed, his expression moody. His appearance transformed from his delight at the bright beauty of their surroundings to a dark cloud hanging over him. “If only my brother appreciated such grandeur. He squanders our wealth on frivolous pursuits while the people suffer.”
Archie nodded, a pang of familiarity stirring within him. “My own brother, Marcus, is much the same. A selfish squanderer, disgracing our family name with his indulgences.”
Marcus had always been different. From a young age, he exhibited a flair for the extravagant, a trait that only intensified as he grew older. Unlike Archie, who had embraced the family’s legacy with a sense of duty and respect, Marcus seemed to revel in tarnishing it.
“When my mother gently tried to steer him away from his destructive manner, Marcus would explode in a fit of anger. ‘Why must you always interfere, Mother? I’m not a child anymore!’”
“And was your mother successful?” Before Archie could answer, they both stopped as Iknokman pointed at a wall of hieroglyphics. “My grandfather wrote this. And as you could see, his words hold great wisdom on how the son of a king must behave.”
Archie read the symbols effortlessly, as if it was his second language. “I agree. Your grandfather’s words are most enlightening. Now I which Marcus would understand them as much as I do.”
The prince’s frown deepened. “Indeed, however, my mother bears much of the blame, I fear. My brother seeks to control every aspect of the kingdom, undermining my father’s authority at every turn.”
Archie gave his full attention to Iknokman and listened intently. Despite having empathy and understanding for his friend’s family strife, the stressful relationship between Archie’s mother and her daughter came to mind. “My sister Evelyn suffers under the weight of our mother’s overbearing nature as well,” Archie confided. “If only my father would intervene.”
As the two men complained of their burdens of family strife, a brilliant flash of lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening roar of thunder. Archie’s eyes flew open, the dream shattering around him like fallen, breaking glass.
He found himself back in the library, surrounded by towering stacks of old, crusty books. Another thunderous boom echoed through the rows of shelves, and Archie’s head whipped around to locate the source of the commotion.
“Bloody hell!” a voice cursed. When a student tried to remove a book from the shelf, a chain reaction occurred, causing other books to fall to the ground, their spines cracking against the hard floor. More books fell from the shelves.
Archie sighed, his conversation with the Egyptian prince already slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers. He turned his attention back to the weathered texts before him, his unclear eyes attempting to focus on the unreadable hieroglyphs. One day, he vowed silently, he would unlock the secrets that had baffled scholars for centuries. The ancient language would reveal its meaning to him, and its wisdom for the world would learn and benefit. Until then, study. Archie’s resolve solidified. He would not rest until he had mastered the intricate lore of this enigmatic civilization, no matter how many lifetimes it took.
Cora’s 12-year-old Adventure
The late 1914 afternoon sun streamed through young Cora’s bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the worn hardwood floor. With a sigh, she leaned back against the faded patchwork quilt draped over her bed, the pages of her adventure book fluttering in the gentle breeze.
“Cora. What’cha reading?” The familiar high-pitched voice pierced the tranquil silence.
Cora scanned the top of her bookshelf filled with adventure books behind many cherished figurines. Kel and Uda, the two mischievous three-inch magical living wood carved Villagers looked down, their imploring eyes eager to get her attention. “What now? Don’t you see I’m busy?” her tone was laced with reluctance.
“We want to show you something, something we found!” Kel exclaimed, his eyes wide.
Uda nodded vigorously. “You’ve been spending so much time reading these days. We miss our adventures together.”
Cora’s grip tightened on the book, her knuckles turning white. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m 12 years old now,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I’ve outgrown those games.”
Kel and Uda exchanged a glance of confusion before Uda produced a crumpled slip of paper from behind her. “We have something that might change your mind,” she said in a mischievous tone.
Cora eyed the paper with skepticism. “What’s this?”
“The first clue,” Kel replied, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
With an annoyed grunt, Cora slammed the book on the bed and got to her feet. Kel and Uda looked down as if ready for another mischievous prank. She took the paper out of Uda’s hand and unfolded it. Cora squinted at the messy scrawl. “Follow the trail to find the treasure that awaits…”
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Uda prodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Cora wavered, torn between her desire to lose herself in the pages of her book and the allure of a real-life adventure Kel and Uda concocted. With a reluctant sigh, she gazed up at the twin Villagers. “Fine, but this better be good.”
Kel and Uda exchanged a victorious giggle as Cora walked out of her room and down the hallway, following the cryptic clues.
The first stop was the library, where Cora was instructed to pull out an old favorite children’s book she had long since abandoned. As she reached for the tattered volume, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. She remembered the countless hours she had spent poring over the stories of families and friends who cherished their time together. That, and how her mother would read these stories and made her safe at home while off on an imaginary adventure. The pangs of longing tugged at her heart.
As she opened the book, a slip of paper fluttered to the floor, revealing the next destination: the kitchen.
Cora’s mother greeted her with a warm smile as she entered, her hands dusted with flour from the bread dough she was kneading. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Would you like to help me with dinner?”
“No. I’m on some stupid adventure put together by Kel and Uda. And I’m also still too young to cook dinner,” Cora said with the pangs of guilt against her mother who only had a desire to spend time with her.
“You’ll have to learn how to cook for your future spouse and family,” her mother said, brushing her hair off her forehead with the back of her hand, her fingers still covered in flour.
Cora shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m on an adventure,” she replied curtly, scanning the room for the next clue. Her gaze landed on the well-worn cookbook propped open on the counter, and she flipped through the pages until another slip of paper fluttered out, directing her to her father’s office. Cora grunted and hurried away to avoid her mother from convincing her to help.
As she entered the unoccupied cozy, yet masculine, lumber businessman’s office, the scent of pipe tobacco and ink enveloped her. Her father’s framed photographs of logging expeditions adorned the walls, capturing moments frozen in time. Cora’s heart swelled with fondness as she recalled the times her father had taken her along to the camps, furthering her love for adventure.
The note instructed her to look behind a specific frame that rested upon the desk—a picture of her and her father from one of those cherished trips. With a chuckle, Cora remembered the trip when her father introduced her to the new lumberjacks and expressed his pride in having her by his side, a sentiment shared on many other occasions. Her hands shook as she picked up the frame from the desk, discovering a hidden clue behind it that urged her to explore the living room.
With another grunt, Cora marched to the living room. She reinspected the badly scribbled scrap of paper that instructed Cora to position a chair beside the tall bookshelf and ascend to the top. In an old frame, she discovered an old photograph. The picture and frame, both from the 1870s, depict her grandparents and their children with serious expressions, despite their typically jovial nature. She reminded herself of her mother’s stories of her grandmother, Sarah, coming to America from Norway, and Sarah’s mother’s death during the voyage, were vivid in her memory. The tragedy happened at such a young age. Moreover, Sarah was 12 years old then, at Cora’s age now. The story concluded as Sarah’s father comforted her, and she did move on and have a joyous life with their new family shown in this picture.
As Cora peered behind the frame, she heard a chorus of shouts. “Surprise!” Kel and Uda leaped out from behind the picture frame, their faces split into wide grins.
Cora’s heart sank as realization dawned. “You two tricked me!”
“We just wanted to have one more adventure with you,” Uda explained, her smile faltering. “You’ve been so grown-up lately, and we miss the fun we used to have.”
Nodding solemnly, Kel brought out a shiny object from behind him. “Here’s your real treasure—a brand new 1914 penny.”
Cora’s eyes narrowed as she snatched the coin from his outstretched hand. “Where did you get this?”
Kel averted her gaze, scuffing his foot from on top of the bookshelf. “We… might have taken it from your sister Anna’s purse.”
“You stole it?” Cora’s voice rose, laced with disappointment. “That’s wrong, and you know it.”
Uda hung her head. “We’re sorry, Cora. Are we in big trouble with Anna?”
Before Cora could respond, Kel piped up. “But look at the mark under the date. What is that mark?”
“Yeah, we couldn’t figure it out,” Uda said.
Cora’s brow furrowed as she examined the coin closer. “It’s the letter ‘D’,” she murmured, perplexed.
“We see that, but what does it mean?” Uda asked, leaning in with wide eyes.
“Does that mean that is a genuine treasure?” Kel asked.
Cora shook her head, her lips pursed. Without another word, she crossed the room and slipped the penny back into Anna’s purse, her heart heavy with disappointment.
As she returned to her bedroom, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she had wasted her time on a fruitless adventure, all for the sake of a worthless penny. With a sigh, she sank back onto her bed and opened her book, determined to lose herself in the pages once more.
*Note: Little did Cora realize the value of that brilliantly shiny 1914 D Lincoln cent penny, mostly worthless then, would now be worth a small fortune. In that condition, the value of that penny would be approximately $3,000 today. That would have been a perfect little gem of a treasure for Cora.