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Father says this is partly our own fault, and he may be right. The obelisk is at the edge of Alexandria, near the Ramleh railway depot. That is a bad part of town. Our citizens have not paid attention to Cleo or taken care of it. We neglected it. It seems so lonely standing there by itself.

When they put the American flag up, we knew we had lost Cleopatra’s Needle.

Over the years, bad men have come with sledgehammers and broken off pieces of Cleo to sell to relic hunters. That is why the bottom corners are no longer sharp edges like they once were. Worse, I have seen thoughtless men stand at the obelisk and relieve themselves on it. They use it as a BATHROOM! There are disagreeable odors there. Many people do not want to go near Cleo. No wonder our government was willing to let the Americans take it.

“Egypt has other obelisks, Panya,” Father told me.

I have not seen other obelisks myself. But it doesn’t matter how many we have. Cleo is OUR monument. I say if the Americans like monuments so much, they should build their OWN. It is wrong to give away our monuments. In fact, I believe we should demand the return of ALL the treasures that have been stolen from us in the past by foreign nations.

Father refuses to do anything about it. He says it would be dangerous to resist the Americans, and our own government. He will not put his life on the line for a piece of stone. He says, “Calm down, Panya. Relax.”

Well, I WON’T relax. I want to SCREAM! Father may not be willing to do anything, but I am. We should fight back. I will not be a mouse.

NOVEMBER 15, 1879

I saw a poster on a bulletin board near the railway station yesterday. It announced a meeting of the Young Egyptian Party. I will paste it in this book....

I told Father I was going to meet a friend after school today, but the truth is I went to the meeting of the Young Egyptian Party. It was held in the back of a warehouse. When I walked inside, everyone looked at me. I realized I was the only girl there. That made me angry too. ALL Egyptians should do what they can to prevent the Americans from taking Cleo away.

I signed a paper that says I am a member of the Party. Somebody asked me what I am willing to do to help the cause. I said, “ANYTHING.”

The older boys said they were afraid to put a girl in harm’s way. Some of them did not even want me around. But somebody suggested that I could spy on the Americans, who would not suspect a young girl. Fine. I agreed to watch what the Americans do and report my findings back to the Young Egyptian Party. I will be good at spying, as I am an excellent observer.

NOVEMBER 18, 1879

I am starting to see articles in the newspaper about what the Americans intend to do with Cleo. Apparently, they have decided they are going to bring it to New York City and place it in a large park called Central. A man named Gorringe, who is a commander in the United States Navy, has been put in charge of removing the obelisk and bringing it to America.

Suddenly my fellow Egyptians are starting to take notice. There are other meetings like ours being held, petitions being passed around, and calls for action. Where were all these outraged citizens a year ago? Or five years ago, when it could have made a difference? Even today, many people, like my father, do not care if Cleo stays or goes. People only care about their jobs, or the price of bread.

There is a lesson to be learned here. We must appreciate the things that are meaningful to us, or they could be taken away.

NOVEMBER 21, 1879

I went to spy on the Americans today. I pretended to be a silly girl who has nothing better to do after school. They did not suspect me.

It looks like the Americans are moving fast to remove Cleo. Maybe they are afraid our government might change its mind and tell them to go home. That Gorringe man has hired at least one hundred Egyptian workers by my count. I watched as they started to clear the area around Cleo with shovels and rakes. Some of them look to be boys younger than me, and others are old men who can barely walk. No women or girls, of course. I suppose the Americans do not consider us capable of doing physical labor, just as Egyptians do not consider us capable of fighting back.

I watched as some of the workers dug with shovels around the obelisk. The older ones filled baskets with dirt. The younger ones carried the baskets to the shore and dumped the dirt in the water. I wrote down my observations and reported them to the Young Egyptian Party. I was thanked for my efforts, but I felt it was not enough. Just watching will not stop the Americans.

“What did you do after school today, Panya?” Father asked when I got home. I lied. I told him I was doing schoolwork. I feel bad about lying, but I feel good about what I am doing for my country.

NOVEMBER 22, 1879

More spying today. I observed that Gorringe man for the first time—the American in charge of moving Cleo. He is hard to miss. He is a tall man, over six feet. He has blue eyes, bluer than I have ever seen. Gorringe directs the workers, with the help of an Egyptian translator. From the moment I set my eyes on him, I DESPISED this man Gorringe.

I do not know how much Gorringe and the Americans are paying these foolish Egyptians to help them. They work day and night. But today everything stopped for a moment when a stooped-over worker digging with a shovel unearthed some bronze amulets and other ancient objects. The Americans took possession of them and gave the man a few coins as a reward for his discovery. He seemed happy to take their money. IDIOT!

Henry Gorringe.

Before I left for the day, a group of protesters arrived. They yelled at the workers to stop helping the Americans. It did no good, of course. But I will say this. The workers do not appear to be in any rush to complete the job for the Americans. They work slowly. They say “the more days, the more dollars.”

All they care about is money in their pockets. They don’t care about Egypt losing our history. As long as they get paid. People will do ANYTHING for money. That is all we will have left after foreigners take away our treasures.

When they are not shoveling, I see some of the workers drinking alcohol, gambling, or fighting with one another. Then they stagger back to work looking sleepy. They are a DISGRACE to Egypt. They should be ASHAMED of themselves. I am DISGUSTED by them.

NOVEMBER 24, 1879

The area around Cleo has been cleared of dirt, garbage, and rubble. Now I can see the steps and the pedestal below the obelisk, which had been covered up my entire life. It looks lovely. If only the Americans were making Cleo look beautiful for OUR benefit. No, they only cleaned it up so it will be easier for them to take it away.

NOVEMBER 25, 1879

Today the workers built wooden scaffolding all around Cleo. After the scaffolding was up, I observed them putting wooden planking on all four sides of the obelisk. They must be covering it with wood to protect it during its long voyage to America.

I wonder where the Americans got so much wood. We have plenty of stone and granite in Egypt, but wood is a scarce resource. Maybe they brought the wood over from America. I hear they have plenty of it there. We have stone treasures. They have wood. They should build wooden treasures and leave our stone ones alone.

I fear the Young Egyptian Party must act soon or it will be too late. The Americans are bold. I have seen them walking down the street and eating in our cafes. My fellow Egyptians hiss, curse, and threaten them as they walk by, but it doesn’t seem to bother them. I wonder if they are even capable of feeling guilt or shame. Maybe they don’t even know what they are doing is wrong.