It appeared to be out of control!
People began to scatter in all directions for fear that Cleo and the entire turning machine would fall on top of them. There was screaming.
But Gorringe did not panic.
“Slack the other cable!” he ordered calmly.
Cleo continued turning. When it reached the point of being horizontal, it banged against the stack of wooden pallets that had been placed below it. So THAT’S why the pallets were there—to cushion the fall.
Cleo bounced a foot or two and then settled back onto the stack of wood. The top two pallets were damaged, but the obelisk was horizontal. It had not broken. Nobody was hurt.
And then, suddenly, there were cheers. Not from me. I would not cheer for the Americans. But other people did. I guess they could not help themselves. It was an amazing accomplishment, I had to admit. It had seemed impossible to gently turn a two-hundred-ton piece of stone sideways, but the Americans figured out a way to do it. I must admit they are an ingenious people.
It was lying on its side, as if asleep. Or dying.
For the first time in nearly two thousand years, Cleo was not standing up straight and tall. It was lying on its side, as if asleep. Or dying.
Slowly, the crowd began to disperse and the American flag was repositioned. This is a sad day for Alexandria, and all of Egypt. I weep.
DECEMBER 6, 1879
I am so mad, and it has nothing to do with Cleo. I just found out that the beautiful statue of a lady holding a torch in the air was supposed to come to Egypt, but instead it will be going to the United States. NOT FAIR! What happened was that the Khedive hired a sculptor to make that grand statue to greet ships as they entered the Suez Canal. But our country ran out of money. So the sculptor sold it to France instead, and they are giving it to America as a gift. Why does the world give America so many gifts? What did the Americans ever do to deserve them?
MARCH 29, 1880
I apologize. I have not written in this book since December. I was too saddened by what happened to Cleo. Everyone was. Even Father. I believe he feels partly responsible for not doing anything to stop Gorringe and the Americans.
After they turned the obelisk sideways, I could not bear to go back and watch them take it away. But I did enjoy hearing about their struggle.
It took them WEEKS just to drag Cleo down a short ramp. And they still have to move it miles to the port, where the water is deep enough for big ships to dock. Who knows how long will it take them to bring it to New York City?
The proud merchants of Alexandria refused to give Gorringe permission to move Cleo over the city streets. They claimed that the weight would damage the pipes that carry water under the streets. That is probably not true, but good for them. I approve of anything that will make it harder for the Americans to take Cleo away.
Gorringe and his troublemakers have spent the last few months building a huge watertight container, which they will use to tow the obelisk to the harbor. They also took apart their turning machine so they can ship it to New York City and use it to turn Cleo upright again.
Now there is NOTHING at the site where Cleo stood so proudly for so long.
MARCH 31, 1880
It all ended this morning. The Americans have left us, and they took Cleo with them. They will tow it to Alexandria harbor and load it onto a larger boat. From there, they will take it to America.
To me, this is like taking a child away from their mother. Many of us gathered at the shore to wave goodbye, with tears in our eyes.
I still believe Gorringe will fail. He has only completed the easy part. He still has to get the obelisk onto a boat, then sail it across the ocean. And March is the stormy season. With a little bit of luck—BAD LUCK—he will encounter a hurricane or an iceberg on the way to America.
Now that it is gone, people are saying they hope Cleo slips into the ocean and stays there for eternity. If we cannot own it, nobody should own it. Even the clever Americans would not be able to pull it up from the bottom of the sea.
In any case, it is out of our hands. There is nothing we can do.
Well, there is ONE thing I can do. And I have done it. I put a curse on this Gorringe man. Misfortune will come to him. It may not be today and it may not be tomorrow, but it will come. Mark my words.
Goodbye, Cleo.
Meanwhile, in the present day...
Mom sighed as she picked up her purse from the bench.
“It looks like we missed our train,” she said. “But there’s another one in twenty minutes. I think we can make it if we hurry....”
“Wait a minute!” I said. “Did you make all that stuff up? Do you expect me to believe that people used to pee on Cleopatra’s Needle when it was in Egypt? And that they gave it to us as a present? For free? Weren’t ships a lot smaller back in those days? How did they find one big enough to hold this thing? And how did they get the obelisk onto a ship anyway?”
“You’re certainly very curious all of a sudden,” Mom said as she put her hand on my forehead the way she does when I’m sick. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Just go on,” I told her. “How did they get it across the Atlantic Ocean? I don’t care if we miss the train.”
“Well...”
PART 4 I AM A STOWAWAY. THIS IS MY STORY.
(1880)
Diary of Thomas Brighton, a boy on the ship that brought Cleopatra’s Needle to America
