Ever since we were children, my sister and I have always been inseparable. Perhaps it’s because we are identical twins, or maybe it’s because we only ever had each other. Mother and Father left behind little evidence of their existence apart from little trinkets and old belongings here and there. One item in particular held their memory the most: an old scrapbook documenting Mother and Father’s trip to Egypt. They were young and full of spirit, embracing each other in front of a landmark. I can feel the love and emotion radiating through the photograph. I suppose Mother and Father became busy (and a little forgetful) since the scrapbook was only filled to the second page, one page with two pictures of the desert and the other, being the only picture I have of them. The landmark that stood magnificently behind them was unlike any structure Sister and I have seen here in New York City, or anywhere for that matter. It was a simple yet complex object, a triangular prism, that started wide at the bottom and came to a perfect point in the sky. I couldn’t quite make out the exact color of the pyramid since the photo was black and white, but It appeared to be light in color, lighter than Mother’s tanned skin, but darker than the white clouds above. I couldn’t make out much else from the old picture but ever since we saw it, Sister and I knew where we needed to go.

Our fascination with this mysterious structure started out as our favorite game to play as children, where Sister was always the bold, strong leader of our adventures and I was the happy-go-lucky explorer who really only knew how to read our hand drawn maps. But slowly the longing for Egypt faded, becoming an unreachable destiny, a path never taken, a stone left unturned. We grew up some more, held jobs, and looked pretty for long enough for us to leave Grandmother’s tiny apartment and make homes for ourselves with our husbands. Sister was a teacher at the local elementary school and I found work at a nearby bookstore. We each enjoyed our jobs, even though there wasn’t much else for us to pursue. Sister had a child first just before I did, a sweet little girl. To my surprise, my child was two children, twin boys to be exact. We made an effort to allow the three children to grow up together, so they knew they would always have someone, just like Sister and I always had each other.

Sister and I were about to turn 23, so I was on the lookout for the perfect birthday gift. While restocking the dusty bookshelves, I mindlessly pulled books one by one from a big cardboard box, until something caught my eye. As I was reaching for the next novel, I noticed a familiar pointed shape. Towards the bottom of the box I dug out a thick book, and on its cover, the same pyramid behind Mother and Father. All at once the desire to explore and the longing for adventure came rushing back. I knew what I was getting Sister for our birthday.

At the end of the work day I took off to the nearest travelling agency. They questioned my destination choice but helpfully directed me to the harbor. A voyage out to sea was an ambitious mode of travel, but so what? Isn’t that what a journey is about? I left in a rush, feeling more spontaneous than ever, and set out for the water. I knew I was nearing the harbor when the air started to smell less like automobile fumes and hot dogs and more like low tide and fish.

I barely remember the trip home, as my mind was taken over by my forgotten childhood imagination. The thrill of excitement consumed me as I held the boat tickets in my right pocket. I could picture it, the pyramid, surrounded by a flat monochromatic landscape, rising tall and strong from the dusty earth. Finally, our dream is not so far from us.

3 weeks later, there we were, standing on the ship pulling out from the harbor, and I still couldn’t believe Sister agreed to embark on this long awaited exhibition. I suppose she still had the same deep wanderlust as I, even when our fascination slipped away from us. We waved goodbye to the children and our husbands until we could no longer see the bittersweet looks on their faces.

11 days at sea went by. We spent all our time thinking about the moment we finally reached land once more, in hopes it would come sooner. On the final day of the voyage, Sister and I trembled with excitement. There it was. The land of mystery and love. We have finally arrived in Egypt.

It was much more grand than I could have ever imagined, taking our breath away. Each rectangular rock fit together perfectly, making me wonder if one block was removed the whole prism would come tumbling down. The cracks and weathering were noticeable too, but somehow its aging made the pyramid even more beautiful and impressive. Sister and I stared at the pyramid for what seemed like forever, until Sister snapped out of it and noticed a large structure behind the pyramid that appeared to be ascendable. We were both wearing flowy skirts and our strapped high heeled shoes, making us ill prepared for the dry heat of the air and toughness of the rock. Our legs ached as we reached the top of the platform. Sister and I marvelled once more about the place we knew so well in our mind’s eye. I couldn’t comprehend the sight before me. All the years of wonder and curiosity has built up to this moment.

The longer we stared and baffled over this masterpiece, the more we realized travelling all this way hasn’t brought upon us any answers, and connection, or any new information about Mother and Father. For a second I grew angry; I had sincerely convinced myself that this moment would have the power to rid all the years of longing and sadness from my mind. Feelings of mourning the loss of Mother and Father grew more apparent than ever. I stood unsettlingly still, until I broke free from my thoughts when a man entered our field of view. I watched as he sat in front of us, legs crossed, in the perfect spot for viewing the pyramid. As he sat, he faced away from the pyramid, staring at something else. Sister and I looked at eachother, confused, then back at him. We turned away from the big triangle to see what this man could possibly be more interested in. He breathed deeply as he watched the sun set over the tannish yellow desert, creating a hazy glow over the land. I felt a rush of calm release, melting the anger and grief away. The thing we came all this way to discover held the intangible reality that might bring us a piece of our parents. The soft fading light of the sun washed away the false reality, leaving only peace and acceptance. Sister and I stood there in silence as we embraced this shared moment of existential bliss.

It was time for us to move onwards, carrying our newfound wisdom, without forgetting who we came from.

Works Cited:

Photo:
https://www.theatlantic.com/photo/2018/01/weird-wonderful-photos-from-the-archives/551378/#img12

Information:
https://study.com/learn/lesson/women-1920s-roles-jobs.html#:~:text=Women’s%20Jobs%20in%20the%201920s,-The%20United%20States&text=Women%20worked%20primarily%20as%20factory,typists%2C%20operators%2C%20and%20manufacturing.
https://drstephenrobertson.com/digitalharlemblog/maps/childcare-in-1920s-harlem/
https://metroairportnews.com/travel-by-air-the-golden-years-1920s-1960s/#:~:text=Airliners%20carried%20less%20than%2020,and%20hats%20to%20keep%20warm.
https://www.altexsoft.com/blog/travel-in-the-1920s/
https://vafsjay.quora.com/How-long-did-it-take-for-ships-coming-from-Europe-to-arrive-in-America-in-the-early-1920s#:~:text=In%20the%20early%201920s%2C%20the%20average%20voyage%20from%20Europe%20to,%2C%20speed%2C%20and%20other%20circumstances.