Chapter 11 #2
Bishop Point University’s campus stretched for several blocks a short distance from Glenmont’s downtown district.
Three quads connected by sidewalks formed the heart of the campus, with extension buildings in other parts of the city.
Oliver had mostly kept to the quad shared by the Communications and Earth Sciences buildings, so he wasn’t as familiar with the rest of campus.
He did know the library was located on the opposite end of the campus, so he and Dave struck out along the sidewalk.
The sun was very low behind the buildings now, shadows stretching away, as if trying to escape its pull.
Birds called out goodnights as they returned to roosts and nests. A gentle breeze moved through trees.
A quiet sense of peace settled over him. It didn’t fill him, not by a long shot, but the grip of Dave’s hand and the serenity of the evening helped him settle a bit more.
As they walked, Dave talked about the wedding. His family members would arrive the day before and, thankfully, stay in a large Airbnb. The only family Oliver had to consider was his grandmother, Eileen, who lived in a condo in Parson’s Hollow.
His thoughts turned to his father, gone for so many years now, and a pang of grief and loneliness rang through him. On the heels of that, he wondered where his mother might be, if she was still alive at all.
“Hey.” Dave gently bumped his shoulder. “Did you hear me?”
“Sorry. My mind wandered. What were you saying?”
“It wasn’t important.” Dave stopped and tugged on Oliver’s hand to bring him to a halt. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight? We can just go back home, and you can connect with her tomorrow. You’ve been through a lot today.”
“No, I want to hear what she has to say.” He hesitated. Then, all of a sudden, Oliver was shocked to discover he was on the verge of tears. It felt so ridiculous he laughed, but it sounded strained and humorless.
“Babe.” Dave pulled him into a hug. “Oh, babe. Come on. It’s too much tonight. Let’s go home.”
“It’s not that,” Oliver managed to say. He took a step back.
Dave kept a hand on his upper arm, and his fingers felt good, grounding.
Oliver wiped his eyes, blew out a breath, and tipped his head back, staring at the sky deepening from indigo to navy.
The glow of campus lights lessened the impact of the stars just starting to appear.
Oliver lowered his gaze and managed a small smile.
“I’m glad your family is making the effort to attend our wedding.
I really, truly am. I like them, even Cody…
sometimes.” They both grinned before Oliver continued.
“I just got up in my own head about my parents and…” He trailed off as his vision blurred.
Words stuck in his throat, and all he could do was lift one shoulder in a half-shrug.
Dave laid a hand along his cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. He ducked his head to catch Oliver’s eyes and smiled. Oliver was surprised to see tears in Dave’s eyes as well. He couldn’t remember dating anyone else who had ever hurt simply because he was hurting.
“I’m okay,” Oliver said. He cleared his throat and nodded, as if assuring himself it was true. “I am. I think I just…I just miss my dad.”
Dave pulled him into another hug, and he sobbed.
He dropped his bag at his feet and wrapped his arms around Dave, holding tight as he cried.
His throat felt raw from his hitching breaths, his chest scraped out and hollow.
He clung to Dave. He didn’t care what anyone walking past or peering out a window might think.
When his emotions settled, Oliver released his hold and took a step back. The wet spot on Dave’s shirt made him snort a laugh.
“It’ll wash out,” Dave assured him as he wiped his own face.
Oliver gave him a shaky smile and placed a hand on Dave’s chest, right over the wet spot. The steady beat of his heart pumped beneath his palm.
“Thank you,” Oliver said. “I guess I needed that.”
“I’m always here for you. Always.”
“I know.” Oliver picked up his bag.
“We haven’t talked much about your parents. I know your dad passed when you were in high school, but not much else.”
“I don’t talk about it often. Dad had prostate cancer. By the time they found it, it was stage four and had gone into his lymph nodes. He was gone two months after his diagnosis.”
“Jesus,” Dave whispered. “That’s awful. How old were you?”
“I was a sophomore, so fifteen? Yeah, fifteen. I remember he wasn’t here for my sixteenth birthday.”
“So young to lose your dad. Is that when you moved in with Eileen?”
“Yeah. She hired out work on the farm and moved into my dad’s and my house so I could finish school with my few friends.”
“He was her son, right?”
“That’s right.”
Dave nodded. Then, eyes softening, he ran a hand up and down Oliver’s arm. “You don’t talk about your mom.”
Oliver made a face. “No, I don’t.”
“I don’t think you’ve mentioned her once the whole time we’ve been together.”
“Probably not. She left my dad and me when I was a baby. Dad didn’t talk about her much, just said she found someone else. But Grandma’s had a lot to say over the years.”
They laughed together again, and something that had drawn tight inside Oliver’s chest years and years ago loosened a bit. He trusted Dave with his life. He could trust him with this.
A scream echoed between the buildings. It was short but rooted in terror.
“What the fuck?” Oliver turned, searching for the source.
“Where’d it come from?” Dave asked, also looking around.
“I don’t know.”
Dave grabbed his arm. “Which way is the library?”
“Oh, fuck. Samira.”
They ran.
Oliver’s bag banged against his hip. A few people were out, either heading to classes or enjoying the pleasant evening.
The majority wore headphones, so Oliver assumed they hadn’t heard the scream themselves.
He knew the general direction to the library and headed that way.
It felt too far away for them to do any good, but he pressed on.
Lampposts along the sidewalk buzzed into life as the sun set. Shadows gathered around buildings and shrubs. Crickets chirred, taking over the background soundtrack from sleeping birds.
The library came into view directly in front of them.
Three stories high, it was built from white stone blocks that gleamed in the glow of the lamps.
They stopped at the bottom of the steps, both panting.
Turning back and forth, Oliver tried to see everywhere at once.
Shadows thickened beneath the trees. That and the absence of other people made him shiver.
“I don’t see her,” Dave said. “I mean, I don’t know what she looks like, but I don’t see anyone.”
“I don’t see her either.” Oliver had started to turn back to the library entrance again when something caught his eye. A notebook lay on the sidewalk near one of the benches. It was small and leather-bound, similar to the one Dr. Brennan had written in before they’d opened the coffin.
Oliver squatted and opened it. Property of Samira Farouk was written on the first interior page.
“Oh, shit.”
“What?” Dave approached. When he saw the notebook in Oliver’s hands, he said, “Oh, no.”
Oliver scanned the grounds again, squinting to try and see through the gloom bundled around thick hedges growing along the base of the library but he didn’t see any sign of Samira.
“Samira!” Dave called.
“Samira! It’s Oliver.”
No response.
Oliver flipped through the notebook. It was full of recreated hieroglyphics along with translations. On a page toward the back, the name Amenmose caught his attention and he paused to read what Samira had written.
From the scroll entombed with Amenmose’s body: I will again be with beloved.
However, the word for beloved, mery, was also a masculine name from the time period.
The scroll was damaged slightly in this area and does not clearly show which symbol follows the owl, or M.
This could be a specific name or a reference to someone.
Oliver turned pages, but Samira had only made a few more notes.
“Do you think you should touch that?” Dave said, concern evident in his tone. “You’ve already been questioned twice.”
“I know. But she wanted to talk to me about something.” He closed the notebook and held it in both hands. “This is crazy.”
“That’s an understatement.” Dave focused on something in the bushes to the left of the library stairs. “What’s that?”