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The exhibits like to eat. It wasn’t very far into his tenure as Night Guard when Larry found out that the exhibits like to eat. Nourishment is in no way necessary for the wax, plastic, and metal figures, but they still enjoyed the act very much. One exhibit in particular enjoyed eating with relish and enthusiasm. Sometimes relish and mustard if Larry felt like bringing hotdogs.
BING. Larry took his bowl of leftover pasta out of the microwave and sat down at the little folding table. He still wasn’t used to taking his meal break, but slowly and surely the museum was starting to run on its own. The first couple of nights he had been afraid to take his meal break at all, worried all hell would break loose without his direct watch. On the fourth night, his stomach had growled so loudly Teddy heard it. Teddy all but flung him over the back of Texas and wrestled him into the break room, assuring all would be well for his allotted half hour break.
As he tucked into his spaghetti, Ahk wandered in and sat down across from him at the little folding table.
“Good evening, Larry.”
“Hi Ahkmenrah.”
“I’ve been meaning to thank you for freeing me. And for staying to guard the museum.” Larry nodded while twirling spaghetti onto his fork. “It truly is an honor to – I’m sorry.”
Larry swallowed the bite. “Huh?”
“It’s just, that smells quite wonderful. What is it?”
“What?” Larry looked down into his pasta and then back at Ahk, who was also staring at the sauce covered meal. “Oh! It’s spaghetti. With marinara. Do you want to try some?”
“May I?” Ahk looked adorably guilty as he accepted the fork and took a bite. His eyes widened in delight as he chewed and swallowed. “This is fantastic!”
Larry laughed, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “Do you even… need to eat?”
Ahk shook his head as he shoveled another bite. “You must tell me more about this spaghetti. Where is it from? What is this mare…”
“Marinara.”
“Marinara made from?”
Larry felt a twinge of sadness at the sheer joy and curiosity plain on Ahk’s face. Fifty years in a sarcophagus, however many years at Cambridge, and a few thousand in the Egyptian desert didn’t seem to have dimmed the spark in the young king.
“Tomato sauce. And spices.”
“What is tomato sauce?” Larry tried to hide his surprise at Ahk’s question. There was so much that the pharaoh didn’t know. Larry resolved to not only teach him, but to also learn as much about Ahk as he could.
“A tomato is a red vegetable.” Ahk nodded, slurping a noodle into his mouth. “Well, technically, they’re a fruit. But they aren’t sweet. I’m not sure why it’s a fruit, something botany related, I think. It doesn’t really matter. You really don’t know what a tomato is?”
Ahk shook his head. “Where are they from?”
“Uhhhhm…” Larry thought back to school to remember if he had ever learned that. A little nugget of information popped into his head. “They’re indigenous to the Americas. I’m not sure about more than that.”
Ahk scooped up the last of the meal from the bowl and ate it with a smile. After pushing the bowl away, he set a hand on Larry’s shoulder. “Well, Larry, I propose we find out more. Surely someone in this museum knows all of the details regarding the tomato.”
Ahk dragged him from exhibit to exhibit, hunting for more information. It was the most enjoyable night in the museum yet for Larry.
While the sun rose and the museum fell back asleep for the day, Larry ruminated on what food he would bring the next night. Ahk had really liked the spaghetti. It only took a moment of thought.
“Pizza,” he said from his rolling chair to the now still form of Rexy. A smile crossed his face as he calculated just how many pizzas he’d have to order for everyone to try a slice. But if it made Ahk smile and they spent the night running around asking about the history of pizza, he would order from every joint within delivery distance.