him for a moment before she caught his meaning.
“I'm not dead,” Myra snapped crossly. “I just got a new body.”
“Right, that's not scary at all,” Jonas said, smiling tightly. Twist let his annoyance out with a sigh while Myra pouted pointedly at Jonas.
“So, how do we get to Cairo, then?” he asked tightly.
“The train would work well,” Jonas said, ignoring Myra's pout completely. He glanced at the wooden sign that stood near the end of the wharf, and then led the group into the city. For all the world, Twist could see nothing but curly lines on the sign, with not a word among them.
The city began to look like a somewhat more interesting place to Twist as he and his companions began to walk through it. While the buildings were of a simple, blocky construction with little in the way of ornament at all, and both the streets and the walls of every structure were of the same sandy color, the crowds that hurried down the dusty streets and filled the wide squares were amazingly international to his eye. He saw people who looked European, Asian, Indian, Middle Eastern, and even British. Upon turning a corner, Twist stopped in sudden shock.
“What's wrong?” Jonas asked, surprised by the sharpness of Twist's motion.
“That's the Union Jack,” Twist declared, pointing to a small house in the corner of the square, and at the English flag that wafted in the breeze before it.
“Oh, it looks very colorful,” Myra observed hopefully, keeping her eyes on Twist.
“That's probably the consulate,” Jonas offered.
“Can we go inside?” Twist asked him.
“Why would we?”
“Because it's England in there.”
“Really?” Myra asked, obviously wondering at how a whole country could fit into a two-story house, before dismissing the idea with a shake of her head.
“Whatever,” Jonas said, smiling now. “You know, there was a consulate in Bombay too.”
“I didn't think of it then,” Twist said quickly as he hurried to the house.
The door opened instantly under his hand to reveal a small office with a wooden floor, flowered wallpaper, sun-beaten velvet curtains around the windows, and a portrait of Queen Victoria on the far wall. There were also a few desks covered with papers and books, with chairs on both sides of them. The center desk was the only one currently in use, occupied by a small man in a gray tweed suit who was pouring himself a cup of tea from a round, ceramic pot. He looked up over his bushy red mustache at Twist.
“Oh hello,” he said brightly. “How can I help you?”
Twist stared at the tea pot on the desk, and at the butter biscuits on the little plate beside it. He inhaled deeply the wafting scent of paper, ink, and proper tea, and focused on the fact that the ground beneath his feet was technically English soil. A single tear burned into the corner of his eye, and his heart filled to the brim with a gravity that could have dragged him down through the Earth and all the way back to his home.
He gave himself one moment, and then took in a deep breath, whipped away the tear, and tipped his top hat to the man behind the desk before he turned to leave. He shut the door behind him and found Myra and Jonas on the curb outside, back in Egypt under the setting sun.
“Did you get what you needed?” Jonas asked.
“Yes, I think I did,” Twist said, pulling himself into a taller posture. He held his walking stick with a bit more dignity, and offered his arm to Myra. “Shall we continue?”
Myra took his arm with a smile and Jonas turned away to hide his own smile from Twist. Together, they continued on towards the train station, and to Cairo beyond.
“Well, we might be able to find a couple of camels,” Jonas said with a heavy sigh as they left the Suez train station in the gathering dusk.
“I'm going to pretend you were kidding about that,” Twist answered. “How many hours is it until nine in the morning, anyway?” he asked,
“I'm not dead,” Myra snapped crossly. “I just got a new body.”
“Right, that's not scary at all,” Jonas said, smiling tightly. Twist let his annoyance out with a sigh while Myra pouted pointedly at Jonas.
“So, how do we get to Cairo, then?” he asked tightly.
“The train would work well,” Jonas said, ignoring Myra's pout completely. He glanced at the wooden sign that stood near the end of the wharf, and then led the group into the city. For all the world, Twist could see nothing but curly lines on the sign, with not a word among them.
The city began to look like a somewhat more interesting place to Twist as he and his companions began to walk through it. While the buildings were of a simple, blocky construction with little in the way of ornament at all, and both the streets and the walls of every structure were of the same sandy color, the crowds that hurried down the dusty streets and filled the wide squares were amazingly international to his eye. He saw people who looked European, Asian, Indian, Middle Eastern, and even British. Upon turning a corner, Twist stopped in sudden shock.
“What's wrong?” Jonas asked, surprised by the sharpness of Twist's motion.
“That's the Union Jack,” Twist declared, pointing to a small house in the corner of the square, and at the English flag that wafted in the breeze before it.
“Oh, it looks very colorful,” Myra observed hopefully, keeping her eyes on Twist.
“That's probably the consulate,” Jonas offered.
“Can we go inside?” Twist asked him.
“Why would we?”
“Because it's England in there.”
“Really?” Myra asked, obviously wondering at how a whole country could fit into a two-story house, before dismissing the idea with a shake of her head.
“Whatever,” Jonas said, smiling now. “You know, there was a consulate in Bombay too.”
“I didn't think of it then,” Twist said quickly as he hurried to the house.
The door opened instantly under his hand to reveal a small office with a wooden floor, flowered wallpaper, sun-beaten velvet curtains around the windows, and a portrait of Queen Victoria on the far wall. There were also a few desks covered with papers and books, with chairs on both sides of them. The center desk was the only one currently in use, occupied by a small man in a gray tweed suit who was pouring himself a cup of tea from a round, ceramic pot. He looked up over his bushy red mustache at Twist.
“Oh hello,” he said brightly. “How can I help you?”
Twist stared at the tea pot on the desk, and at the butter biscuits on the little plate beside it. He inhaled deeply the wafting scent of paper, ink, and proper tea, and focused on the fact that the ground beneath his feet was technically English soil. A single tear burned into the corner of his eye, and his heart filled to the brim with a gravity that could have dragged him down through the Earth and all the way back to his home.
He gave himself one moment, and then took in a deep breath, whipped away the tear, and tipped his top hat to the man behind the desk before he turned to leave. He shut the door behind him and found Myra and Jonas on the curb outside, back in Egypt under the setting sun.
“Did you get what you needed?” Jonas asked.
“Yes, I think I did,” Twist said, pulling himself into a taller posture. He held his walking stick with a bit more dignity, and offered his arm to Myra. “Shall we continue?”
Myra took his arm with a smile and Jonas turned away to hide his own smile from Twist. Together, they continued on towards the train station, and to Cairo beyond.
“Well, we might be able to find a couple of camels,” Jonas said with a heavy sigh as they left the Suez train station in the gathering dusk.
“I'm going to pretend you were kidding about that,” Twist answered. “How many hours is it until nine in the morning, anyway?” he asked,
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