I step off of the tram and am immediately blasted with the furnace-like heat of the Egyptian summer, immediately missing the breeze generated by the moving tram. I look around and see the entrances to a dozen tombs that were dug into the mountains thousands of years ago and have been discovered over the last hundred years. The Valley of the Kings looks much different than it did the last time I was here. I slowly shuffle towards the tomb of Ramses VII, assaulted with flashbacks of what was accomplished 3,100 years ago. I enter the tomb and see the hieroglyphs telling the story of the great battle that took place here. The battle between good and evil where good ultimately prevailed. 

I run my hands along the etchings on the walls and am surprised to see a new character in the story. The character bears a strong resemblance to me. I wonder when someone changed the story to include me along with a figure unknown to Egyptians at that time bearing a strong resemblance to a bear. I cringe thinking of what we went through to preserve this tomb.

I am transported back to 1,129 BC where the people of Egypt are mourning the loss of their king. The tomb is almost complete and we are making a list of the items our beloved king will need in the afterlife. Our list is finally complete as is the tomb. We are ready to start filling the tomb with the necessities such as garments, food, a golden throne, the finest jewelry, shabti dolls carved from stone, and of course, the king’s favorite cat named Fluffy. 

The first day we laid out the garments and food around the golden throne. The next morning when we came back, we found the door to the tomb open and all of the food gone. We were concerned about looters, so we replenished the food but did not add any other things. On the third day, the food and the garments were gone. At this point, we were no longer concerned, we were furious. We set out new food and garments, again and came up with a plan to set a trap that night to put an end to the looting. What kind of evil would raid the tomb of a king? Do they not realize this is a sacred place? 

Imagine our surprise as we cautiously approached the tomb the next morning to sounds of sad growling noises. It was a sound none of us had heard before, like a cross between a cat and a hippopotamus. What could that noise possibly be? We inched closer and came upon a trapped bear. Where did this bear come from? They are definitely not native to our country. In my village, I am known as an animal whisperer, so my friends push me forward from the crowd to try and talk with this beast. I start to talk to the bear, hoping we can find a common language and I can get the story of why he keeps stealing our gifts for the king. 

After a few tries, the bear and I figure out we can both speak French. Being polite, I ask the bear what their name is, “Comment vous appelez-vous?” They immediately respond, “Je m’appelle Bruce.” Something in my subconscious clicks with recognition, like I have met this bear before, maybe in another lifetime. I want to ask if I have met him before but have more pressing issues at hand. Instead, I stare into his eyes and ask him why he has been taking the food and clothes we have laid out in the tomb. He stares back at me and says he smelled the food while sailing up the Nile and had to come check it out. I heard bears had a great sense of smell, but had no idea it was that good. That explains where the food went, though I do not know if the others will understand. What could a bear possibly need with all the clothes? They were too small to fit him or any bear. 

The group behind me is getting restless and starts shouting questions at Bruce and I. They want to know if the bear will continue to be a threat. I turn to them and explain about the food. They are not happy with the explanation, I was right about that at least. They want to capture Bruce and bring him in front of the current king, Ramses VIII for punishment. The sense of knowing this bear becomes stronger and I plead with them not to do that. I turn back to Bruce and explain what we are doing and why. We are filling the tomb with all of the things necessary for Ramses VII to have everything he needs in the afterlife. 

As I tell him more of the story, Bruce looks more and more sorry for the trouble he has caused, like a sad puppy dog. By the end, he has tears in his eyes for all of the trouble he has caused. He says to me that he will do anything to make it up to us. I tell this to the group and they gather together to figure out a suitable gift Bruce can give as a symbol of goodwill. They decided if Bruce can find a golden scarab to place in the tomb, we will forget this incident ever happened. For us, the scarab is a sacred animal that represents rebirth and protection in the afterlife. 

Bruce scratches his head. I start to think that maybe I did not translate the word “scarab” into French correctly. Then he reaches behind his neck and that is when I realize he is wearing a necklace. My gaze travels to the pendent at the end of the gold chain and I see the pendent is a golden scarab. I began to wonder if he wasn’t so foreign after all. Bruce takes off the pendent and throws it to me. It is much heavier than I thought it would be, also bigger. I guess because Bruce is so large, it did not look as big when he was wearing it.

The group sees the golden scarab as well and are so happy that they would have something so magnificent to place in the tomb. They give me permission to help Bruce out of the ten-foot-deep pitfall trap that we had set the night before. I dragged the ladder over to the side of the hole and slowly lowered it down. Bruce cautiously climbs the ladder. Once he reaches the top, I extend my hand to help him get to solid ground.

I blink and I am back in the tomb and it is 2024. My hand has been sliding over the hieroglyphs on the walls. Some people may not think it was a true battle of good versus evil, but I know it was. We made sure the king successfully got to the afterlife by protecting items he would need. All of the sudden I hear someone yell in French “STOP!” I turn and look at the tomb guard running towards me. Their hat flies off and I realize it is Bruce the bear. He has been guarding the tomb of Ramses VII for the last 3,100 years. Making sure that no one else loots this tomb. This is my chance to ask the question that has been burning in my mind for three millennia, “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” Bruce stares at me with his penetrating gaze and answers “Yes, yes you do.”