It was hopeless. I knew it was and don't even know why I tried fighting it. Stronger people than I had failed, I thought I would be different. I told myself I wasn't like the rest of them; I was resilient and prepared, and I gripped the cold steel I held in my hand like a talisman, praying for it to give me the strength I needed to overcome this challenge and add my name to the short list of heroes that came before me. Still, I was forsaken, my prayers unanswered, and my strength waned. This was the end, my weeks of preparation for naught. I failed.
I could feel the drool dripping slowly from the corner of my mouth as I held my head in my other hand, my elbow propped on the desk, and my mind was drifting between that weird place of asleep and awake, and sleep was winning. Professor Kipp was just so boring. His slow, monotone voice just droned on like white noise. Not falling asleep at least once in his class was an achievement. It wasn't entirely his fault, though; it was the tail end of May, warmer than anticipated, with a nice thick layer of humidity, and it was hard to make Early Human Studies exciting and interesting.
How long he left me there drooling on myself, I couldn't say. What I could say was that it hurt when Professor Kipp knocked my arm out from under my head and watched gravity reaffirm its existence by slamming my forehead into the desk and into a nice cold puddle of drool. It only took that split second, and I was wide awake, taking in the empty classroom and a stoic, gray-headed man just watching me.
"Let's have a chat," Kipp said as he started to walk away, not looking back at me as he headed for his office. He wasn't speaking in a monotone now but didn't sound angry either. Something in his voice was commanding, and I obeyed without thinking.
Grabbing my bag, I quickly followed him and wiped the drool from my face. I couldn't have been the only student to even fall asleep during one of these lectures, and I would have bet that at least one other person was catching a quick nap during it as he did, and the professors didn't care if you slept through their class or even bothered to show up. So, what did he want to talk to me about? And this was the first time I had ever fallen asleep in his or any class. Shrugging, I followed him down the aisle past the empty desks and into his office, where a welcome blast of chilly air smacked me.
"Sit," the old man told me as he pulled out two mugs and two teabags for each and turned on an electric kettle.
I sat in the only other chair in the small but neat office while the water quickly boiled and waited silently as Professor Kipp poured, both of us silent as we let the tea steep. This was unusual, I thought. I was really not sure what he could want to talk about, especially over some tea. If he was angry or anything or just wanted to reprimand me, I don't think he would have made tea for that, so I graciously accepted the mug he pushed towards me.
"I don't use cream or sugar, I'm afraid, so you'll have to make do," he said, sitting in his chair, the old cushion and springs creaking as he leaned back. He was sipping at his hot mug and staring at me in a way I'd never seen him look before. His usually stoic, bored expression and monotonous tone were gone, and I saw a man who wasn't old and frail, just experienced. He held a sparkling intellect behind his usually absent eyes.
"That's fine, thank you," I replied, taking the cup from the desk, letting the warmth of it seep into my hand, bringing it to my lips, and letting its aroma first burrow into my nose. Earl Gray. My favorite.
I closed my eyes before I took that first sip, and Professor Kipp was watching me intently as I did, my mind instantly bringing me back to an early memory of me and my Grandmother sitting together in her recliner, her ever-present cup of tea next to us on the end stand. I was back there with her while she hummed softly and crocheted another set of gloves for one of her many grandchildren. I could smell her tea, Earl Gray, and feel her warmth and love soaking into my little body as I snuggled next to her and watched cartoons. The memory lasted only an instant but also forever. It was an eternal memory that would stay with me forever, that sense of love and safety.
"The tea isn't that good," Kipp commented, taking another sip from his mug.
"What?" I asked, opening my eyes and coming back to the present. "Oh, it's just that Earl Gray brings back a happy memory for me."
"I get the same way when I smell bacon, but who doesn't?" He said as he put his mug on the desk and leaned forward. "I know you're wondering why I asked you to my office. No, I don't care if you were asleep. I'd be asleep, too, listening to me. You're smart, your grades are excellent, and I don't care if you go to class to sleep; I still get paid. I've been watching you throughout the year. I know you're passionate about this subject, but I think you're almost obsessed. I want to know why, what draws you to the past the way you are?"
That wasn't necessarily a complicated question, and if asked if probably anyone, they would say that they're interested in the past. I didn't answer right away. I knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear, and it was a question I had never really asked myself sincerely. I was caught off guard, not expecting such an innocent and mundane question from how he had just acted a few minutes before.
Just like almost anyone else, I found the past interesting; I want to know how we got from there to now. How did we survive and thrive to become a dominant species? I guess those questions are ones that every archaeologist or anthropologist asks. Those were the big questions that everyone wanted to know the answers to, actually, the fundamental question of humanity. I continued to think about the Professor's question: why did I care so much? Why did I 'nerd out' and watch hours of documentaries about ancient civilizations and humans or spend unhealthy time reading encyclopedias about those subjects?
I absentmindedly sipped some more tea, and the office again disappeared as my mind's eye opened, and I dug harder and deeper at the questions. As I peeled back the layers, I watched my mind play out different scenes and scenarios of human history. My imagination ran wild and unbidden as I became an early hominid, hunting in a dense forest after a thick snowfall, the fear of starvation driving me and my kin forward. I was one of thousands of individuals through the generations of man who witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations and the deaths of entire species until there was one, the so-called pinnacle of evolution. Homo Sapiens.
Throughout the fanciful imaginings, I couldn't help but feel an echo of something, a whisper at the very edge of my hearing, a warning that something was wrong or just not quite right, and that echo turned into a small coal of burning curiosity in my belly. I had to know the answer to three questions. Who are we, where did we come from, and why are we here? Those were the answers I needed to know. I knew it wasn't a novel take, and that was the question since our ancestors first appeared. It was cliche, but it was my best answer for Professor Kipp. I felt stupid even saying it, but I told him anyway. I have been obsessed with the subject since I was eight and first read about Neanderthal.
"I want to know why we're here," I said slowly before finishing my tea. I put the empty mug on the desk and leaned back in my chair, watching Kipp, who was watching me.
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He was quiet for a long time, and I think he had forgotten about his tea as he kept staring at me. I was getting a little uncomfortable just sitting there now that my hands were empty, but I could wait him out. I don't know what it was, but this meeting felt weird. It didn't have anything to do with the class, or my falling asleep, and the question wasn't too deep or philosophical, but something about the situation had an air of seriousness. Suddenly, he nodded once and finished his tea.
"Good enough," Kipp said as he stood up, collected the mugs from the desk, and put them away somewhere, hopefully to be cleaned later. I hope he cleaned them. "Now, follow me."
I followed him without saying anything and slung my bag over my shoulder as we walked out of his office, pausing for a few seconds to lock his door, and then he walked again. He took me out of the lecture hall and through the mostly empty halls of the wing as everyone was in the middle of class. I didn't ask where we were going, and Professor Kipp didn't offer any clues or say anything as we started moving down into the basement. I'd never been down here before but knew there wasn't much happening in the dimly lit and quiet basement. It was nice. It wasn't a long walk, and after a few turns going left and right, we came to a large steel door that the professor had pulled open and stepped through.
On the other side of that door was what was essentially a morgue. The far wall was covered with several rows of pull-out freezers, and there were two metal tables in the middle of the room where cadavers would be laid. I noticed that one of the tables was occupied, and a female in a white coat was bent over the table, examining the body. I saw at first glance that it was an ancient, mummified body, and the doctor was reviewing its black hands and darker fingernails, peering through a magnifying glass at something. If she was surprised at our entrance or even took note of us, I couldn't say, but she seemed deep in thought as she gently rotated the subject's hand to get a different angle under the light. I stood there momentarily, just looking around; it was clean, and nothing appeared out of place. The walls, as was the floor, were white tile, and all the cabinets and tools around the room were stainless or surgical steel. The only thing out of place was the T.V. in the corner, which was playing an old pirate movie. The volume was low, but I could hear it just enough.
"Dead men tell no tales," one of the pirates in the movie said to another as they pushed him down the plank, the television being the only other sound in the room.
"Dead men tell the best tales," the doctor suddenly said. She straightened herself from her examination and put the magnifying glass she had been using back on a rolling table next to her, bringing my attention back to the center of the room. She was a shorter woman and had thick, curly black hair all over the place. She was wearing slippers, which I thought was strange, and she was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, making it a weird contrast between her pristine white coat and the blue gloves on her hands.
I didn't know what she had meant by saying that. Every person alive should understand that 'Dead men tell no tales' is a famous phrase. And self-explanatory. How can you tell anyone anything when you're dead? I could feel the confusion or skepticism at her statement manifest on my face into a look to match. Professor Kipp spoke up before I could ask what she meant by that.
"Doctor, this is one of my students, Alden Gailor," Kipp said as he moved further into the room, towards the doctor and the body she was still standing next to. Mr. Gailor, this is Dr. Cheyenne Moore."
"Uh, hello, Dr. Moore," I said, stepping up next to Professor Kipp and extending my hand towards the new acquaintance for the introductory handshake while I let my eyes travel up and down her. I thought she was cute, though surprisingly unkempt for someone in her station. And probably a few years older than me.
"Pleasure, Alden," She said as she took off her gloves and took my hand, giving it a firm shake before suddenly pulling me closer to her as a hungry smile met my halfhearted one, taking me slightly off balance. As I moved forward, Dr. Moore let go of my hand, put her arm around my waist, and used the little momentum she had created to guide me around the table with the old body on it and positioned me right at the head of it. "What do you see when you look at Ms. JUD-7725, or 'Judy,' for short?"
Still a little off balance, physically and mentally, from what had just happened, I stood there for a moment, staring down at a blackened, desiccated, thousands-of-years-old woman, not sure what Dr. Moore wanted. She could see what I could, and I looked up at Professor Kipp, who was just smiling silently with his hands clasped behind his back. All he did was lift an eyebrow at me.
"I don't know...Bio-archaeology is next year," I started, not sure what was happening anymore.
I probably should have been asking questions before this point. I wasn't frightened, but things were getting a little strange for me. The Professor had never taken me to his office for anything throughout the year, let alone an enjoyable cup of tea. Then he brings me down to the basement to a morgue, where there's a weird doctor and a mummy on a table, without any explanations. Now, that doctor asked me to examine a possibly priceless relic without being anywhere close to qualified to do anything like that. No way. And Dr. Moore still had her arm around me. I didn't notice until I tried to back away to begin my polite objection.
"I'm not qualified, let alone experienced enough t-," I tried to say until Dr. Moore talked over me and pinched my side as I began to move and then pushed me even closer to the mummy.
"Tell me what you see," The woman's tone was suddenly softer. Still, it felt very threatening as she spoke beside my ear, leaning us closer to ‘Judy' while I waited for Professor Kipp to say something. However, he still smiled happily, even rocking back and forth on his feet a little, his eyes almost shooting sparks of excitement. Sparks were almost shooting from the doctor's eyes, too, but they were fierce and hot, and I could feel her shooting lasers into the side of my head. I sighed. It was pretty cool, being this close to something so old, so I bent closer and started looking at the mummy.
The mummy's eyes were open, but only two empty black pits were left now. Her real eyes would have been removed before she was mummified and replaced with fake ones, but those had long since vanished, lost, or most likely looted at some point. Her nose was just a memory of what it once was, and her cheeks were now just leathery cling wrap, sunken and black and wrinkled and stuck to the shape of her skull. The ancient lips were pulled back in a death's smile and showed a nearly complete set of pretty good-looking teeth. The body, for the most part, had very minimal damage, which I thought was fascinating. She had all of her arms and legs and everything else. 'Judy' even had some rings on her fingers, bracelets, and an anklet, each made from gold and with colored stones and gems.
"Well, she looks completely intact," I started with the description of 'Judy,' remaking on the things I observed in the few minutes of looking at the body and throwing in a few assumptions or adjusting some preconceptions. I assumed that because of the fake eyes being gone, she had been looted, but seeing that she was fully intact when I looked and that she still wore jewelry, I doubted that. I assumed she had been very important, probably buried in a secret location, and never found until recently. I told Dr. Moore this while she still held me next to her, watching me like a tigress ready to sink her teeth into something's neck. She was interesting, if a little creepy. She only nodded when I finished and stood there, both of us still bent over the corpse, just watching me, not blinking.
"Fair assumptions and deductions, but there's something you didn't tell me, Mr. Gailor," she said as she pushed me closer to the blackened body of the ancient specimen of humanity. "What do you smell?"
What do I smell? I didn't smell anything but the inherent smell of a place like a morgue. At least I hadn't until my nose was so close to the body. It was not at all what I was expecting. 'Judy' smelled like beeswax mixed with pine and something sweet. It was a warm smell and woodsy, not at all unpleasant. And I couldn't help but smile at the scent. It was almost intoxicating, and I went in for a longer, deeper whiff. Then, the world around me shattered. My vision started to tunnel, and my ears rang louder than I had ever experienced. I could feel my heart trying to hammer out of me. This wasn't pleasant anymore.
Professor Kipp's mouth was moving, but I couldn't hear what he was saying, and I couldn't feel the soft but firm hold that Dr. Moore's hand still held on me at my side. The world was going black.
"The fuck..." was the last thing I could remember thinking or saying, and then there was just black.