Chapter Twenty-Five
Ethan
I ’ve been in Egypt for a couple of weeks, and although Sadie arrives tomorrow, I’m still not ready to see her.
Ashraf, my Egyptian project manager, picked me up at the airport. We met on the first dig I came on over ten years ago. Five years later, he was the first team member I recruited when I secured a concession as dig director, and he’s become one of my best friends. I’d trust him with my life, and on a couple of occasions I’ve had to.
“You look tired, my friend,” Ashraf commented as we made our way through the crowded arrivals hall to a taxi he had waiting.
“It’s a long flight.” I couldn’t look him in the eye as I responded. It had nothing to do with the long flight, and everything to do with anxiety about how the dig would go. He knows me well enough not to buy a disingenuous response. Fortunately, he didn’t persist. Just nodded silently and patted my shoulder as the taxi took off towards my regular hotel.
“Rest tonight. Tomorrow is time enough to start work.”
Knowing Sadie would be joining me here in a matter of weeks was unsettling me, to say the least, making my arrival bittersweet.
I had been looking forward to putting some physical space between us in the hope the time apart would lessen the connection. Having her on the dig will mean the opposite. We’ll be living and working together in close quarters for six weeks. Whether we like it or not, I suspect this dig will resolve our relationship. Or lack of one.
I don’t even want to think about what dramas being so close to Riley might create.
In the weeks since, I’ve been kept too busy to dwell on what will happen when the students arrive. Even though I have a regular team I work with year on year, there’s still lots to organise.
I spent most of the first week tied up with red tape at the Department of Antiquities, negotiating protocols and processes. Followed by a week full of a favourite Egyptian pastime: haggling over all the equipment and supplies we’ll need.
Today, Ashraf and I are meeting with the captain of the boat I’ve used for the past two years as both transport and accommodation. Staying on a boat allows us to save time on daily transport by being near the dig site, not to mention the added benefit that there are none of the distractions staying in town can offer students. Of course, this year, a distraction for me might be a good thing.
“Ethan!” Khaled, the boat owner and captain, calls from the deck as Ashraf and I stride down the little jetty where he’s moored. His pride and joy has had a coat of paint since my last dig.
Although Khaled and his son Sayed also rent the boat out to small tour groups who want to travel up and down the Nile, I’m well aware my taking it for six weeks every year is their most lucrative contract.
“How’s business, Khaled?” I ask, leaping up the gangplank.
“Better now my favourite customer is here,” he says with a laugh, proudly indicating where someone has freshly hand-painted the name of the boat. “As you can see. We are all ready for you, Basha .”
We sit on the deck and discuss staffing and catering while drinking the strong, sweet tea Egyptians favour, all to the background noise of the busy waterfront. Despite the looming arrival of the students—and most particularly Sadie—the sights and the smells of the river work their usual magic, and my body relaxes as the tensions of the past six months drain out of me. The contentment I usually feel as soon as I arrive in Egypt is finally settling into my bones.
Ashraf would say ma’at is being restored. Order from chaos.
Before Jess died, I had thought I was in control of my life. The universe proved me wrong by taking her the way it did. Sudden. Unexpected. Perhaps there’s a lesson here. That I need to let go. Let the universe do its thing. Let ma’at take over and lead me to where I need to be.