Nataliya Bogoluibova - Never call me a spy. Part two
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Derek, we’re going to Ras Mohammed! You’d better change the tires for sand! Where’s Notaspy?” Emma asked.
“He went to get Butter Pecan Ice Cream,” Derek replied.
“Oh, no! He’s always picking the worst possible time!”
Colin and his father dashed to their red off-roader to change tires. Emma managed to get the shovels. In an hour they returned to the spot and were ready to hit the road.
Notaspy had already been there waiting for them. His muzzle looked sad. The tail quivered slightly, questioningly.
“I thought you’d left me behind,” his voice cracked.
“That’s what you deserve,” Emma reproached him. “You must make a choice. Butter Pecan or the Scarab?”
“I hate Butter Pecan. I ran to buy a pack of onion chips.”
“It sounds odd…coming from you,” Emma noted.
“No time to waste,” Derek shouted, “I’m driving. Get in!”
“To the Ras Mohammed Gate,” Emma cried out.
They saw magnificent tangled mangroves at the costal line. The turquoise sea and the bright greenery were in complete contrast to the lifeless desert around. At first, they didn’t speak, awed by the experience.
“The water is salty, isn’t it? How can the shrubs survive?” Colin broke the silence, his eyes beaming with surprise.
“Mangroves grow in coastal saline or brackish water,” Derek explained. “They’re the only species of trees in the world that can tolerate saltwater.”
“The thief left a mangrove leaf in the museum, didn’t he? We would better examine the spot briefly in order not to miss any clue that could lead to the criminal,” Emma suggested.
“There’s no point in wandering in the mangroves for some vague hope. It may be a myth that the Scarab can spin time back,” the meerkat whimpered. “Let’s return to the city and relax in a cold bath! It’s not worth suffering in the heat.”
“Well, it feels like you’re purposely trying to slow us down. What has happened to you?” Emma frowned.
Notaspy complained, “It’s just the heat, I think.”
Colin cried out, “Look! There is…something over there.”
A golden bracelet was glittering in the sand.
“I bet it’s from the Royal Museum!” Derek alleged.
“The thief might have been here and dropped the bracelet!” Emma agreed with Derek.
“It gives no clue to the Scarab and the theft,” the meerkat grumbled. “A tourist might have lost the bracelet here.”
After checking the area, they drove to the Gate. Every hundred meters the road was getting worse. Less than an hour the car floundered in the sand.
“Now what? Let’s just leave the fragile hopes of finding the Scarab,” the meerkat moaned. “Wandering through the desert in such torrid weather is suicide!”
“What shall we do?” Derek exclaimed. “There is no chance to find another car in the desert.
“We’ll ride camels!” Colin beamed as he saw a camel herd in the distance. They dashed to the coast.
All of them, except Emma, mounted the camels. She had a hard time chasing after the pack animals. The camels she wanted to approach, darted away at the sight of the crocodile. At last she found one who was too brave or lazy to flee. She mounted the beast with a triumphant smile.
They were riding through the dunes until they saw the Ras Mohammed Gate. The view was so truly and utterly awesome! The desert deepened into shades of burnt orange as the day’s heat dissipated. They dismounted the camels.
Emma started acting weird. She zigzagged on the sand mumbling, “6-16-7-6-9. Even numbers – turn right.”
“Why are you walking in circles!?” Notaspy asked her. “I hope you haven’t gone crazy! I insist on a cold bath for you!”
“Odd numbers – turn left…Don’t bother me right now. I’m concentrating,” she snarled at him. “Get out of the way!”
“Seven steps, turn left. Six steps, right. Nine, left,” she repeated. Then she stopped and began digging, sand flowing in all directions. Derek and Colin were intrigued and helped her. Notaspy was goofing around. He pretended that it was none of his business and tried to act as casual as possible.