Oasis of Eden

Oasis of Eden

By Genella deGrey

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 S Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Oasis of Eden
Copyright © 2011, Genella deGrey
Edited by Jennifer Erwine and Veronica Petroelje
Cover art by Les Byerley,
www.les3photo8.com

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-296-9

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic release: May 2011

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

Acknowledgement

It’s funny how things happen every now and then. It seems that some of our greatest blunders end up being inevitably fortuitous. Such is the story you are about to read of Jade Anne Poole.

On a completely different note, I’d like to thank Theresa Stevens, the first industry professional to encourage my writing.

Chapter One

Just north of Karnak, Egypt, 1923

What Jade wouldn’t do for a flask of gin and a hot Dixieland tune to erase the boredom right about now. Sadly, the only item available from her wish list was “hot”. The sun was relentless in the Sahara, even in February. She shifted in her seat, the backs of her legs sticking to the leather, and tightened the scarf which held her straw hat in place. The least they could have done was send a covered car. She never saw value in how the sun affected her skin, no matter what Coco Chanel and her tan did for fashion.

Jade shook her head. She must have had a momentary lapse in judgment when she’d decided to leave Chicago for a trip to Egypt to pay a visit her late father’s find.
What was I thinking?

Oh, yes. Now I remember.
This little hobby of Pop’s was threatening to deplete his entire estate—her entire estate—of funds. Although Pop had provided her with an ample allowance in the four years before his death, now she was in charge, and this silly sifting around in the sand needed to stop.

“Not long now,” the weathered driver said in Egyptian. “Another hour or so.”

Jade gave the driver a half-hearted smile.

Mum had passed on years ago, and when Jade had come of age, Pop had decided not to take her with him to dig up his trinkets and such. So she’d been left to dawdle about at the University of Chicago—she grinned in retrospect—where she took her sweet time with her studies and danced at the rubs as often as possible. She’d burnt her corset, shimmied her way around campus, and made time with the boys. Ah, the carefree life of a flapper. Primly folding her gloved hands in her lap, she tapped her toe to a catchy ragtime number that popped into her head.

Jade’s pleasant thoughts skidded to a halt like a needle scrapping across a phonograph record. Her gaze focused on the dessert, and her lips twisted into a sour pout. Two things needed to happen during this impromptu North African excursion. She was determined to break up the current dig and send everyone home.

Her other assignment, given to her by her girlfriends put a smile, on her face every time she thought about it. “Poolie,” Each of their gang had a handle, a nick-name, and
Poolie
was hers. “You simply
must
have a bit of fun with some foreign cuddler. And take notes, honey. We’re dyin’ to know how they’re doin’ it in Egypt these days.” But just where she would find a petting party full of acceptably handsome flaming youths here in no man’s land was beyond her.

Smothering a wicked giggle with her gloved fingertips, she thought of the illicit parties she and her girlfriends had attended. Life had been utterly dull before college. There were few pleasures in life, and the sparse fare set before a body should be scooped up with both hands—at least, that had been her philosophy since moving into the girls dormitory her first year at U of C.

She glanced at her driver and suffered a shudder of revulsion. No pleasurable opportunities were to be had in the near future, that was for certain.

* * * *

Almost an hour later, they pulled off the main road. It was dusk by the time she was shown to a private tent across the way from her late father’s former colleague, Doctor Harper. Looking out over the encampment, she noticed that it simply buzzed with activity, all paid for by her father’s estate. She really hated to be a wet blanket anywhere, but bringing an end to the dig was critical for her survival, and better sooner rather than later.

At a small porcelain basin in her canvas quarters, Jade washed the desert floor from her skin, then set out to find a bite to eat and, hopefully, some distillate libation in the mess tent. She wasn’t really a corn fiend; liquor, or giggle juice as she and her little gang of gals called it, had a way of banishing the doldrums—and if there existed anything duller than this, she’d be quite surprised.

“Doctor Harper. So lovely to see you again.” Jade smiled, although she was bone-weary and too tired to chew the food set before her.

“Dear Jade Anne. I’m so glad you’ve arrived safely. Was your journey pleasant?” he asked, using the name he and her father used to call her when she was a little girl. He took the seat opposite her. The same age as her father, Doctor Edward Harper sported thin white hair over red, parched skin, with a set of fuzzy cheeks and chin to match. His kind brown eyes regarded her like a loving uncle’s.

Pleasant? Not remotely. More like boring.
“Yes, it was.”
And can we get this over with as soon as possible so I can get back to misbehavin’
?
Jade considered herself an expert at saying one thing and hiding her real thoughts at the same time, which she considered a necessary evil in life. She didn’t do it to deceive him, merely put the older man at ease. There was no reason to tell him she craved more stimulating company than what she’d suffered in the last week or so.

“And how are your studies going? Hark!” He cupped a hand to his ear. “Is that the familiar strains of
Pomp and Circumstance
I hear?”

She couldn’t help but smile at his dry, intellectual humor.

He chuckled and continued. “Before your father passed, he told me you had not only excelled, but were filling in for professors here and there.”

Darling Pops
.
Her father never failed to talk her up. “Aw, he exaggerated, really. I filled in twice for Doctor Grant in Egyptian, and only once in his hieroglyphics class.” She shook her head. “Truly, it was nothing.”

He laughed and reached for a piece of flat bread. “Not many people can do that, you know.”

Jade shrugged. “Not many people learned their alphabet along with deciphering Egyptian hieroglyphics, either.”

“Yes, well you were no ordinary child.”

Her cheeks heated from his praise as if the sun was at its apex—something which normally didn’t happen unless hours of spooning were involved. Time to change the subject. “Dr. Harper, I understand you found something of significance.”

“Oh, indeed. We believe it was to be a temple of sorts.”

“Of sorts? You mean you’re not sure?”

“Yes and no. The reason for the ambiguity is due to the fact that we can’t seem to decipher exactly what the point of attraction is.”

“But you do think it’s a temple.”

“Indeed.”

“What do the glyphs say?”

“From what we can tell, they speak of visitations, of teaching, of doorways to other worlds and the uniting of similar beings—everything is quite sketchy, and there are definite gaps we have yet to fill in. The hieroglyphics do not follow the same patterns and are not as precise as sites we’ve uncovered in the past.”

“And yet you got temple out of all that?”

“It seems the room itself is set up as if it were a place of worship with a quadro-pillared dais and empty floor space which circumvents the perimeter. There are artifacts, a few pieces of jewelry and such, displayed in presentation style. It’s practically Hebrew in design.”

Jade sat back in her chair as she absorbed the information. “Wow, swell rumble.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, sorry. Very interesting news.”

“I agree. We’ve had many give up on the project by reason of contradictory views—not to mention the press isn’t interested.”

“Why wouldn’t they be interested? Not enough sparkly things to garner any serious lettuce?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Dr. Harper chuckled. “Oh, there is some gold, but it seems Mr. Carter’s extensive find far out-shines our little insignificant room.”

Poking a corner of flat bread into her mouth, Jade chewed while mulling over Dr. Harper’s information. Perhaps if she saw it for herself, it would be easier to tighten the screws and talk him out of pursuing further research on the site.

A server ducked into the tent and set something onto a table which could very well have been a full bottle of prohibited—at least in the States—refreshment. Once the server departed, Jade turned to Dr. Harper and smiled. “Will you show me tomorrow?”