Emma pushed a wisp of blonde hair behind one ear. Then, very carefully, she stepped toward the time travel machine. The strange contraption was spewing sparks, and shed a blinding light. Emma blinked, and not being able to contain her curiosity, touched the door to the machine. It felt like a normal old door, but Emma knew that it wasn’t. Who on earth would name their door “The Time Travel Machine”?!
Quickly, Emma twisted the doorknob, and slipped inside the machine. The door slammed behind her, and disappeared. In replace of it, was a large panel that lined the entire space (which was about the size of a closet) with thousands of buttons. A startling voice came from above the ceiling in choppy sentences, saying: “Welcome Time Traveler. What time period would you like to visit?”
Emma wondered if the voice could understand her. “Uh-well, what time periods do you have?” she asked.
“We have The Medieval Times, The Stone Age, Ancient Egypt-”
Emma cut the voice off. “Ancient Egypt!! I-uh-mean, Ancient Egypt, please.” This should be good, Emma thought to herself. The Time Travel Machine gave a jolt. Then, with a whistling sound, it soared upward. Emma felt like she was being sucked against the wall. Her cheeks shook and her voice was rattled.
The voice kept blabbering away. “Hello, Time Traveler. My name is Jim. I will be guiding your tour today. May I offer you some refreshments?”
Emma could barely talk, but managed to say, “My name isn’t Time Traveler…it’s Emma! And, no way am I going to eat! I mean, I can’t! I’ll spill as soon as a bite enters my mouth- or worse- I’ll upchuck!” Emma crossed her arms, and stared out the window. “Where are we, anyway?”
“We are almost to your destination, Ancient Egypt.” Jim answered. Emma nodded. Soon the machine that felt like a scary loop coaster slowed down. It hovered aimlessly above the boiling hot desert, which stretched for miles and miles.
“You’re dumping me here?!” gasped Emma.
“Yes, but I’ll be right here waiting to take you home. Enjoy your trip!” answered Jim, and Emma was shoved out the door. She looked hopelessly around, but everywhere was the same- hot sand. Emma plopped down in the sand, and noticed a camel off in the distance. On it was a queen riding on top. Emma stood to her feet and tried the best she could to run. The sand shifted and mounded under her feet, but eventually Emma made it to the camel.
The queen atop the camel was lovely: she had a long sheet of shiny black hair that flowed down her shoulders, wore a purple veil and outfit, and had chains of golden beads for a head dress. Emma watched as a young man helped her off the camel. Then, very carefully, Emma walked up to the queen and waved. “Hi!” she began, “I’m Emma Bidington! What’s your name?”
The queen stared at Emma with big, brown eyes. Then she answered, “My name is Queen Cleopatra. Hello.” Cleopatra bowed with elegance, something Emma didn’t have.
“Who’s that guy? Your son?” Emma asked, pointing at the man who had helped Cleopatra off the camel. The man blushed, and the queen replied for him.
“That is my servant, Nabeel. Now, stop chattering so, and get on the camel. You will die of thirst if you do not receive water.” And with that, Cleopatra clapped her hands and said, “Nabeel, get this girl on the camel, and put me in the front.”
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