The Firma Twins and the Purple Staff of Death: A Firma Twins Adventure, Book 1

By D. H. Timpko and Lisa J Michaels

Talking mummies! Human-sized rats! Aliens! A treasure hunt in an exotic location! An identical twin who’s jealous of her younger sister’s amazing talents finds fantastical powers far beyond anything she could have imagined.

Isis Firma, the oldest of identical twins, envies her younger sister Electra

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gettier Group LLC
• Release date: Aug 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9780986088216

D. H. Timpko

D. H. Timpko looks forward to a future when time travel resolves the dilemma of not having enough time to do what she loves most-writing, reading, watching films, studying Egyptology, traveling, playing computer games, and spending time with her two intellectually challenged (but sweet) cats, devoted pug, family, friends, and wonderful husband. She has no regrets about not having time to clean house.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The Dead Have Their Say

Hey! I’m back! My sister Electra threw open the bedroom door. She placed her ice skates and gym bag in the closet.

So how was the rink? I asked, putting down my pen.

Cold! Mrs. Greenaway thinks I’m ready for the skating competition.

Congratulations! I said. My smile hid my real thoughts. I had almost said of course, but it wasn’t her fault she’s gifted and I’m not.

Electra grabbed my notebook. What’re you writing?

Half standing, I tried to retrieve it. Hey! That’s mine! Give it back.

Patience!

With you as my sister, patience should be my first name, I thought, returning to my seat.

Unusual, huh? she said after reading it. You think our family’s unusual?

Don’t you?

Maybe. She closed the notebook. Then she tossed it back on the desk where it knocked my pen to the floor. Why are you writing that?

Annoyed, I bent over and picked up the wooden pen. I examined it carefully. It was unharmed. Good. Aunt Epiderma had given it to me last Christmas.

If you’re going to be a writer, you need a good looking pen, she had said.

I relaxed in the chair. Remember the work Dad did last year with our genealogy?

Yeah. What about it?

Well, he told me about all the twins in our family, but he didn’t show me their names, birthdays, or the dates on which they died. It was weird.

Did you ask him to show you the family tree?

Of course I did. That’s why it’s strange. You know he normally bores us with details. This time he put me off.

Maybe he was sick, Electra said.

Dad’s never sick.

I guess. She shrugged.

I thought if I showed him I was writing about the family in my diary, he might share the information.

Electra laughed. So you’re writing a diary!

What’s wrong with that?

What are you going to write about besides all the twins? It’s not like you do anything.

You don’t know what I do!

All you do is read books and study Egyptology.

I sighed. What was I thinking? She was right. My life wasn’t exciting enough for a diary.

Girls! Mom’s voice sounded from downstairs. Phoenix and Kelly are here.

My sister pushed past me and reached the bottom of the stairs first.

Hey! Kelly Horton, Electra’s best friend, said. At six feet, he’s three inches taller than Electra and me, which makes him ideal for the school’s basketball team. Like my sister, he’s a talented athlete. How was your practice?

My coach sees the Olympics in my future!

Cool!

Phoenix broke in. So what’s the plan for your birthday? What are we doing?

This year it’s Isis’ turn to decide. Electra produced an exaggerated sigh. "Just imagine how much fun that’s going to be. Not."

I scowled at my sister. Looking at Phoenix, I said. Last night I dreamt I attended a funeral in ancient Egypt. This priest carried a three-sided black staff with a purple star. He told me to remember the man being buried. ‘He has a message for you,’ he said. ‘But he’s dead,’ I said. ‘Death is not as final as you think,’ he said.

Phoenix’s eyes widened. Wow!

Awesome. What does it mean? Kelly asked.

I don’t know. But, when I woke this morning, I had a very powerful feeling.

Electra snorted. You don’t have feelings.

Yes, I do! I’m human like everybody else.

Of course she is! Phoenix said.

My sister shook her head. Oh, come on. You know what I mean—feelings that don’t have rhyme or reason. You’re the one who always makes fun of psychics.

Anyway, I said, ignoring her, the Institute of Ancient Egyptian Stuff has a mummy that was just autopsied, so that’s where we’re going.

Interesting, Kelly said. I’m game.

I’ve always wanted to go to the museum, Phoenix said.

Boooring! Electra flashed her green eyes.

Too bad. This year we’re doing something I like.

So we piled into our family van and set off for Washington, DC. Dad found a parking space near the Smithsonian Museum of Iconic Television Series, which was across from the Institute of Ancient Egyptian Stuff.

We’re taking Hermy and Shermy to the Mummy Dig, Dad said, speaking of our five-year-old twin brothers.

It’s going to take us a while to get to the museum, Mom said. You kids can go run ahead. We know where you’ll be.

We reached the other side of the Mall and climbed the long flight of white marble stairs to reach the Institute’s porch, which surrounded the building.

What are you waiting for? Our next birthday? Electra charged into the museum in such a rush one would think the mummies were leaving on the next flight to Timbuktu.

I don’t run off just for the Hades of it like you do, I said. Too late. She was in the museum. I cursed the fact that most museums in DC are free. No admission. Nothing to slow Electra down.

Hades! I swore again following Dad’s rules. It’s one of the peculiarities of the Firma household. We are only allowed to swear by gods and goddesses of Greek, Roman, Nordic, or Egyptian mythology, and he forbids using four-letter words, especially if they begin with the letter f.

So Electra left us outside. Irksome.

Well, said Kelly and followed her in.

You should see your face, Phoenix said, pushing her straight black hair behind her ears.

You’re right, I said. You’d think I’d be used to her eternal rush, rush, rush.

You’d think. Phoenix grinned.

I laughed.

Oh, my! Phoenix stopped as soon we entered the museum. You never told me how impressive this place is.

She gazed at twin statues of Bastet, the cat goddess, which sat on either side of the main entryway. Large statues of Ramses, Hatshepsut, and other pharaohs welcomed visitors into the hall.

Kelly leaned on the railings on the left beyond the Bastet statues. We joined him and headed for the information desk. I noticed Electra giving brochures and information to tourists as if she worked there. She just sort of takes over everything. I love my sister, but really. Then Kellissa MacRae, the Egyptology research associate, approached Electra.

Hello, Isis! she greeted my sister.

That made me mad. Couldn’t Miss MacRae tell the difference between Electra and me? She should know I don’t make a spectacle of myself. I hate when people confuse us. Electra and I only look alike. We are different people. I picked up the pace.

Electra stopped gabbing to the tourists. Excuse me. The staff here at the information desk can answer your questions.

The ladies staffing the information desk beamed with approving at Electra. How did she get away with it? She stepped in, took over their jobs, and then handed them back whenever she wanted.

Hi, Miss MacRae! Electra said.

Are you here to see the exhibit, Isis?

Again, Electra didn’t bother to correct the error. Yep. Kinda exciting, ain’t it? I mean the mummy’s been here for years, then out of the blue they do an autopsy.

It wasn’t out of the blue. It took a while to arrange it . . .

Miss MacRae broke off talking when Phoenix, Kelly, and I joined them.

Oh! she said, comparing Electra and me. You’re Isis. Sorry for not realizing it at once.

I smiled. Maybe there was hope for her. She didn’t see Electra very often. It’s usually just me at the museum. A moment’s confusion was all right. After all, sometimes I mistake Aunt Eudora for Mom. I gave Electra my best, most subtle the Queen is not pleased look. A raised left eyebrow, a frozen smile for half a nanosecond. Electra should have told Miss MacRae of the mistake. She knew I hated when people confused us, but Electra—being Electra—thought it was great fun.

Hi, Miss MacRae, I said. We’ve come to see the mummy.

You won’t be disappointed. She looked at Electra and I sensed her thoughts: Why didn’t she tell me she’s not Isis?

Wait, I was imagining things. Nobody can read minds.

Phoenix nudged me.

Miss MacRae, let me introduce my best friend Phoenix Rising, I said. And . . .

My best friend Kelly Horton, Electra said.

Kelly nodded.

Isis has told me so much about you! Phoenix said. It’s exciting to know somebody who works at a museum.

Not as exciting as it is to know someone like Isis who’s really interested in Egyptology, Miss MacRae said. She knows more than I did when I was her age.

Isis, I got this for you, Electra handed me a brochure about the mummy. It’s the last one.

The last one? Miss MacRae frowned. We ordered thousands. Weren’t you handing them out?

No. I was handing out the ones about the temple. The ladies called someone to bring up the mummy ones from downstairs.

I better talk to them about keeping a larger supply up here. Enjoy the exhibit. Miss MacRae headed to the information desk.

I nodded goodbye and scanned the brochure, which explained Egyptian mummification. Mummification took a little over two months. After removing the brain, lungs, eyes, and other organs, they left the heart in the body because they thought the heart was the center of intelligence and feeling. The brochure talked about the recent autopsy, which was done through three-dimensional CT scans.

Thanks, I said. I appreciate your getting this for me. I regretted my Queen is not pleased look. I thought of something nice to say to her. Maybe there’s something to be said for rushing in after all.

You know I can’t help it.

I guess.

Mummification sounds pretty cool, Kelly said. He read the brochure over my shoulder.

Electra scowled at him.

I smiled. Want to see the mummy?

Sure! Kelly said.

Tell me again about why dead things are so interesting, my sister said.

Mummies are . . . I said.

Electra rolled her eyes. I was joking. Spare me the history lesson.

You asked!

Give me a break. We’re here. Let’s get it over with.

Well, I’m looking forward to it! Phoenix said.

Me, too! Kelly said.

You’re polluting my best friend. I heard Electra mutter.

We headed up the white and gray marble staircase, which had black banisters and posts designed as leaves of the papyrus plant. The rooms featured fanciful Egyptian-inspired paintings and wallpaper. The ceiling tiles displayed hieroglyphs from the Book of the Dead, a collection of religious writings for ancient Egyptians wanting to live forever. I don’t think it worked, at least not the way they intended. I doubt they imagined they’d be mummies in a museum half a world away thousands of years after they died. Makes me wonder what will happen to me after I die.

We came to the room of the ancient Egyptian mummies. My favorite place, and I was sharing it with my sister. Very sad. She would never feel overwhelmed by being in the presence of thousands of years of history and people who were once as alive as we are. Thank goodness for Phoenix and Kelly. They understand.

We headed to the special exhibit. Electra barely looked at the mummy. She read the placard, which mentioned that the researchers found a bug in its ear caught there during mummification.

Gross, she said. A bug in its ear! Who would want to be mummified with a bug?

That is so cool, Kelly said.

You might want to read this while you look at the mummy. I handed him the brochure Electra had given me downstairs.

Thanks! He moved to the other side of the case where there was a bench. He sat down and began reading.

I wouldn’t want to be mummified, Phoenix said. But I like the painted coffins. I’m going to look at them.

Electra wandered off to examine other displays. I stared at the two-thousand-year-old mummy which, unlike the other mummies, lay unwrapped, out of its coffin, and inside a very large glass case. It was the mummy that had been autopsied. It was tiny and looked like bones covered with a thin layer of burnt paper. I wondered what it had looked like when it was a live person.

Which ear held the bug? I blinked. Did something move? I squatted to be on the same level as its body and looked more carefully. Nothing. I peered at the right ear. Again, a slight movement. I rubbed my eyes,