The Scarabs Curse

The Scarabs Curse

By Stephanie Gilbert

Copyright 2024 Stephanie Gilbert ©

All characters in this story are totally fictional and over the age of eighteen.

No A.I. was used in creating this story.

Thanks to ChiefHal for his proofreading assistance.

Chapter One

I was not too fond of school and had no idea what I would do with my life. The first opportunity I had, I left school and kicked around in whatever job came my way. I worked shifts in a factory for a while and then worked on demolition sites, ripping down old buildings.

That's where my story takes a turn. I was working my way through this old house stuck between two high rises. We had to check that no one was in any of the rooms before pulling off the wall lining and trying to salvage the copper pipes and wiring. I was working my way down through the enormous old mansion, opening every closet and checking all the cupboards; you'd be surprised where homeless people hide.

This was the fun part of the job because if I found anything I liked, I could take it home in my lunchbox. That was the boss's rule; anything that wouldn't fit in your lunchbox, we had to ask. Over the last year, I have found watches and jewelry, sometimes under floorboards, but mostly dust and junk lived within these walls.

I opened the cupboard under the stairs, and no Harry Potter was living there. I pulled on the light string, and it didn't come on. No surprise there as if it had; someone could have died tomorrow when I took an axe to the walls. Some books were lined up on a small shelf at the back. I took out a few, as some of them had some real value if they were the right ones.

I pulled on the top of the last book, which snagged before slipping from my fingers. I heard a soft click behind the wall. I tapped on each panel until the triangle piece at the bottom of the stairs moved. A puff of dust came out as it locked back into place.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled to myself.

I pulled on the book again, saw the panel's slight movement, and stuck my fingernails into the gap. It wouldn't give and snap back into place at the slightest pressure. I found an old fork in the kitchen, pulled on the book, stuck the fork in the gap, and pulled the book some more. I worked back and forth, getting more play each time I pulled on the old spline.

With a swoosh and more dust, the triangle swung open, and I could see into the void behind me. I switched on my torch and got onto my hands and knees, crawling through the new hole. The opening was under the second flight of stairs that went up. But there was another set going down that you couldn't get to other than with the book. "Kool."

I crawled back out when I heard Jake yelling my name. "Go, Jake. I will lock up when I finish in the basement."

"Did you find anything?"

"No, the squatters have taken anything of value."

"Yep, that's what I got upstairs, too. Only old mattresses and empty wine bottles. It would have been a beautiful building in its day."

"Cost more to do it back up than it's worth," I said as Jake picked up his lunch box and headed back to his truck.

I squeezed through the small hole and dropped to the stairs, brushing away the cobwebs on my way down. There was indeed a hidden basement with an old coal furnace and shelves lining every wall. I blew the dust off some more old books and stacked them away to take to be checked. I found an old watch with a crystal I couldn't see through. I put it with the books and continued my search.

I wasn't expecting to find gold or silver in the basement, but a glint of red caught my eye. I brushed the dust off what looked like a bug. The red eyes and gold gleamed unmistakably like money. I picked up the palm-sized insect with its long pincers and rubies for eyes.

"I wonder if you are real?" I asked the little feller.

Finding nothing but tools and other worthless rubbish, I picked up the books and the insect and crawled out the door. I dropped everything into my lunchbox, including the watch, from my pocket, and locked up the safety fence. After a hard day's work, I walked to the bus, flagged it down, and headed home.

"Hi, Mom," I yelled as I headed through the entry towards my room.

"Don't I even get a hug anymore?"

"I'm covered in dust and cobwebs. I'll have a shower and hug you as much as you like."

"I'll hold you to that."

I took my lunchbox to my room, took out my day's finds, and put the box aside for Monday. I showered, shaved and bounced into Mom's arms. "You eating before you go out?" Mom asked, still wearing her nurse's uniform.

"I'll grab a meal at the bar. Jake is already texting me about all the chicks on the dance floor."

"Jake couldn't pull a girl if his life depended on it." Mom rightly added.

"Nite, Mom, don't wait up." but I knew she would.

I got back early from the bar. Jake was full of shit; as usual, there were two girls on the dance floor, but they were old enough to be our grandmothers. Not that Jake would have argued, as it would have been his first. I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, and picked up the first book. I researched, and it was not the worst find I had ever made. It was probably worth twenty dollars in its condition.

The next three were in similar condition and maybe a few bucks more to the right buyer. The last book was more fragile, and when I opened it, I thought it was a joke. The inscription on the inside cover said, "Thanks for letting me stay at your house for the last two years. I can never repay you." It was signed by Thomas Edison.

I checked online, and his signature was worth hundreds, but inside this old book with the story of where I found it. I figured it might fetch me a few grand, maybe. I was excited about the book, checked the watch, and tried to clean the glass, but it was all scratched. I read online, and they said to use some toothpaste. I put some on a rag and polished away for fifteen minutes until I saw the word Elgin and did a little research. It turns out that it could be a World War One army watch.

With more research to be done, I looked at my little friend. I turned it over in my hand, trying to find some markings. There was a small winder that seemed to be working as it tightened when I turned. Then I pressed a button on the underside, and it clicked and buzzed for a few seconds, then did nothing.

I thought it might be a music box, but it was clearly broken. I placed it on my desktop on its thin golden legs and returned to the laptop to find out what it was. The first pictures I found were of a large bug from Egypt called a scarab. Legend has it that the scarab helped people move to the afterlife. "Creepy," I muttered.

I thought I saw a glint from the red eye facing me, and when I went to pick up the beatle, it tried to scamper away. The tabletop was too slippery for its thin golden legs, and I quickly covered it with my cupped hands. When I slowly parted them at the top, my little friend had folded up like he was dead.

I tried searching further but found nothing about the little machine. I picked him up in my palm and looked closely before turning him onto his back and pressing the button again. There was a zap, and a sharp pain shot into my finger. The Scarab flipped onto the table and tried to escape again.

"Whooo, little guy," I said as I cupped him again.

When I opened my hands this time, he looked up at me defiantly with his little red eyes gleaming. I couldn't believe it, but I was almost sure the little insect was waiting for me to talk.

"Where are you from? Tuff guy."

He rocked from side to side for a moment, then tiptoed to the watch and tapped his pincers against the glass.

"Thomas Edison?"

Tuffy stood still again as if considering me, then returned to the watch, tapping at the glass. "The owner of the watch found you."

He scampered back in front of me and bobbed once, like a tiny bow.

"It's an old watch from about World War One. Was he serving in Egypt?" I asked, and I got another nod.

"Do you live at that old house?" I asked, now feeling a little silly talking to a golden beetle, but I got another nod.

"Has he passed?" I asked, glancing at the old watch.

Tuffy looked at me long enough that I thought I might have to rewind him before he dipped his front legs in a long, low bow. I felt sad for the little fellow, who had lost his companion, but it was getting late. I went to turn off my laptop, but Tuffy scampered over to it when I closed the lid and tapped at the side.

"Ok, Tuffy, I guess you like the light," I said, climbing under the covers.

I watched him, frozen, staring at the screen. I wondered who made him as my lids became heavy.

"Morning, Mom," I said, hugging her from behind while she was trying to turn the bacon.

"Did anything turn out to be valuable?"

"One of the old books looks promising. It has a signature of Thomas Edison inside. if it's real."

"Well, we might get the pipes fixed yet." Mom said, kissing me on the cheek.

We managed to hold onto the house after Dad went to the hospital. He had tried to come home a few times, but his schizophrenia had returned when he had to deal with life. In the last few years, he had retreated into his own mind, and I found it hard to visit.

"I'll do the lawns, then do a little more digging into that book."

"Okay, baby. I'm heading off to work." Mom said, serving me the last of the eggs.

I came back into my room after I put away the mower. Tuffy was playing dead in the middle of my keyboard. I went to pick him up, but he lifted the half shells on his back and fluttered his golden wings.

"OK, but I want to use my computer."

Tuffy scampered off to the edge of my desk and watched me touch the mousepad, and the screen came to life.

"Save my home." was written on the screen ten times in big, bold letters.

"Was this you?"

Tuffy scampered to the laptop and tapped on the side.

"It's going to be pulled down, Tuffy," I said, but he kept tapping.

I looked at the screen, and dozens of tabs were open on my browser. I clicked on the next one, a picture of the old house in its heyday. It was fucking beautiful. Its stained glass windows and ornate woodwork give away the period in which it was built. Under the picture was the headline. "Period home of WW1 General going under the hammer."

"You've been there a long while?"

I clicked on the next tab, and there was information about the pyramids with pictures of Tuffy. "Is that you?" I asked, and he nodded.

There were diagrams of the house and more documents about heritage listings, but I'm sure the company I work for would have checked all that. Tuffy kept tapping on my laptop, so I kept going, opening tab after tab with information on the house. Then, when I switched to the last one, I had more text.

"Save my house, and I will give you your dream."

"Do I have to polish you so the genie comes out of your ass?" I asked, trying to swipe down his back. His wings fluttered, and he moved to the edge of the desk.

"Okay, okay. No touching. I get it. I get that you want to stop the demolition, but I don't know how to do it."

Tuffy fluttered to the keyboard and jumped on the keys one after the other, spelling out letters. "L I B R A R Y."

"You want to go to the library?" he fluttered softly onto my palm and folded his legs to play dead.

I dropped him into my top pocket and headed down the stairs. "Just going to do more research on that book, Mom," I yelled into the kitchen.

"Dinner is at six." She yelled after me.

"Ok!"

I took the bus downtown, and when I was about to get off at the civic center, Tuffy stung me through my pocket. I sat back in the seat and rode on for a few more miles. I felt Tuffy flutter, so I stood and rang the bell and noticed we were in front of the university.

"I can't go in there; It's for students."

Tuffy stung my chest, and I marched on. I was young enough, and it was a weekend, so no one paid me much attention. I found the Law section and moved up and down the aisles. I felt a flutter, so I stopped and, turning right, got another. I raised my hand and got a flutter on the top shelf, so I ran my fingertips across the splines of the books. Before I got another flutter, I saw what Tuffy was looking for. "Heritage law." was in gold writing on the spline.

I sat at one of the desks and opened the book. I didn't know where to start, but I flipped through the pages and got a flutter in my pocket, so I stopped. I started reading, but the words didn't make sense. I pulled out my laptop and googled the meanings of the words I didn't know. After four hours, I was almost blind from staring at the text.

I spotted a tall blond girl in jeans and a university hoodie. She was gorgeous and well out of my league. Tuffy fluttered out of my pocket and jumped on my keyboard. I watched the blond move through the racks of books, stopping and bending to put more on her trolley. I looked back at my screen and the words. "I grant you part of your wish. What your lips touch shall be yours" was in bold letters.

"What the fuck does that mean? If I kiss her, she will like me?" I asked and got a flutter.

"How am I supposed to kiss her? She is fucking beautiful?" I said, and I got a sting through the pocket. "Alright, Alright. I'm going." I said as I felt a warmth from the sting spreading outwards.

I walked behind the girl, who looked me up and down before turning away with a raised eyebrow. I turned to return to my seat, and I felt Tuffy move and didn't want another sting.

"My Lady, you honor me with your presence," I said, waving my arm and bowing, taking her hand during my bend.

I made to kiss the back of her hand, but she pulled it away. My lips lightly brushed her soft skin, and her retreat stopped, leaving her fingers resting on mine. She looked up from where our hands touched, the energy flowing through my skin. Was it her beauty or the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen? Whatever it was, I held on for dear life.

"I'm Emma," she said, her eyes dreamy.

"Milo, my name's Milo," I stammered, still trying to get used to her touch.

"What brings you in here? I don't think you are a student."

"Busted. I work in a demolition crew and found some stuff in the basement of a house we are stripping tomorrow. I don't think we are supposed to pull it down, but if I say anything, I will get myself fired."

"What house?"

I led her to my laptop and showed her a picture. She flipped through some of the pages.

"You could get an injunction while we find out more."

"Are you a lawyer?"

"No, I'm a research assistant. I could find the case law, but you need to file it as a private citizen."

"But I don't know anything about court stuff," I said; then I felt some movement in my pocket and thought of Tuffy readying his stinger.

"But I could use the help. I have been using Google to find out what the lawyer words mean."

Emma collected a trolly of books and sat with her thigh against mine. I leaned into her, and she let me touch her arm.

"Shit, I have to go home for dinner," I said when I saw the time.

"Oh," Emma said sadly.

"Do you want to come over? I'm sure Mom wouldn't mind."

"I... I had nothing on tonight, so why not?" Emma said she would pick out some books she thought might be helpful and check them out on her pass.

"Mom, This is Emma; she is helping me research that old house. I invited her for dinner," I said, and Mom's eyes widened, and she began to smile.

"Of course, Milo. It's lovely to meet you, Emma," Mom answered, pulling out a chair. "What's this about the house?"

"I don't think they should pull it down. A WWI general owned it, and Thomas Edison stayed there for a few years."

"Thomas Edison?"

"The inventor."

"I know who Thomas Edison is, Milo."

"But how do you stop the demolition? And do you even want to do it? Won't you lose your job?"

"My job is caput the second I open my mouth. We could save the house with a court injunction." I said, and Mom frowned. "That answers the other question; you want to do this, don't you?"

"It needs to be done. I crawled through a hidden door to get into the basement. There is something special about that house. It has to be saved."

Emma and I went to my room after dinner, and Mom brought in coffee. I sat at the desk, and Emma was cross-legged on the bed, unaware or uncaring that her panties were flashing in my direction. I leaned over her shoulder to read the text she was showing me and chanced a kiss on her cheek. She grinned and turned her head to catch my lips.

"We have twelve hours until the court offices open. We have work to do." She said, tracing her fingertips across my lips.

"I love a driven woman," I said, pressing the back of my hand to her breast.

Emma didn't push me away but leaned into my hand. Then she kissed me again before breaking away as Mom came in to refill the coffee. We went at it most of the night. Emma fell asleep at about three, and I dozed off at dawn. Mom knocked on the door at eight o'clock, but Emma was already up reading and scribbling out some notes.

"Here are the documents you will need for the injunction."

Emma pushed me into the courthouse a few minutes before they opened. I stood at the clerk's counter with my folder in hand and ten men and women in suits behind me. I submitted the paperwork and paid the fee, almost emptying my meagre bank account. I waited in the hallway within the eye line of the clerk. Emma told me this was a ploy an old lawyer had used to push things through. If I sat there without complaining, they would rush it through to get rid of my sad face.

It was getting late in the morning, and I knew more damage was being done inside the old home with every passing hour. As Emma predicted, the clerk waved me over and handed me the paperwork I needed. I rushed through the photocopy shop and down to the building site just in time to see a backhoe moving into position.

"Where the fuck have you been, Milo."

"Sorry, boss, but you can't do more work on this building."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"It's heritage listed. Here is an injunction to stop anymore..." I was saying when he waved at the backhoe to keep going.

I backed to the left to stand between the blade and the siding. The operator, Paul, moved forward a few more inches, then stopped. "If you want to hurt Milo, you are going to have to do it yourself," Paul said, throwing his gloves at me in disgust. "I need this work, Milo."

"I know, Paul, but Thomas Edison stayed here."

I saw Jim hesitate momentarily, then climb into the backhoe cab. There was a blast from a siren. Police cars screeched to a stop. TV camera operators were hot on their heels, pointing the cameras in Jim's face. "Did you know the house was heritage-listed before you started ripping at the walls?" one tall presenter asked, holding the microphone under Jim's nose.

"This is the first I have heard of it. Milo only gave me the paperwork seconds before you turned up. Paul, get the rest of the men out of the building until we sort this out." He yelled a significant change in his demeanor from moments ago.

"Milo, did you find artefacts inside that show the significance of the building?" She asked, turning to me.

"Yes, Jim, my boss lets us take home anything small we find while checking the building for squatters and stray animals. I found a watch from a WWI general. Something else led me to believe Thomas Edison lived here for some time."

"Thomas Edison. Well, this old building would certainly fit him in its heyday. Shellie Robinson, signing off."

"Keep up the fight, Milo. We might come back to you for a follow-up." She said, then looked at Jim with suspicion.