Kelly Link - Get in Trouble - Stories

What kind of afterlife do you get to have as a mummy? If you’re , I guess you believe your Ba and Ka will reunite in the afterlife. thinks she’s going to be an Akh , an immortal. She and the rest of them go around stockpiling everything they think they need to have an excellent afterlife. The Olds indulge them. The girls plan for the afterlife. The boys play sports, collect race cars or twentieth-century space shuttles, scheme to get laid. I specialize in the latter.

The girls have ushabti made of themselves, give them to each other at the pyramid dedication ceremonies, the sweet sixteen parties. They collect shabti of their favorite singers, actors, whatever. They read The Book of the Dead. In the meantime, their pyramids are where we go to have a good time. When I commissioned the artist who makes my ushabti , I had her make two different kinds. One is for people I don’t know well. The other shabti is for the girls I’ve slept with. I modeled for that one in the nude. If I’m going to hang out with these girls in the afterlife, I want to have all my working parts.

Me, I’ve done some reading, too. What happens once you’re a mummy? Grave robbers dig you up. Sometimes they grind you up and sell you as medicine, fertilizer, pigment. People used to have these mummy parties. Invite their friends over. Unwrap a mummy. See what’s inside.

Maybe nobody ever finds you. Maybe you end up in a display case in a museum. Maybe your curse kills lots of people. I know which one I’m hoping for.

“ ,” said, “I don’t want this thing to be boring. Fireworks and Faces, celebrities promoting their new thing.”

This was earlier.

Once and I did it in ’s pyramid, right in front of a false door. Another time she punched me in the side of the face because she caught me and in bed. Gave me a cauliflower ear.

’s pyramid isn’t quite as big as ’s, or even ’s pyramid. But it’s on higher ground. From up on top, you can see down to the ocean.

“So what do you want me to do?” I asked her.

“Just do something,” said.

I had an idea right away.

“Let me out, .”

We came down here with a bottle of champagne. asked me to open it. By the time I had the cork out, she’d shut the door. No handle. Just a keypad.

“Eventually you’re going to have to let me out, .”

“Do you remember the watermelon game?” says. She’s lying on a divan. We’re reminiscing about the good old times. I think. We were going to have a serious talk. Only it turned out it wasn’t about what I thought it was about. It wasn’t about the movie I’d made. The erotic film. It was about the other thing.

“It’s really cold down here,” I say. “I’m going to catch a cold.”

“Tough,” says.

I pace a bit. “The watermelon game. With ’s unicorn?” ’s mother is twice as rich as God. ’s pyramid is three times the size of ’s. She kisses like a fish, fucks like a fiend, and her hobby is breeding chimeras. Most of the estates around here have a real problem with unicorns now, thanks to . They’re territorial. You don’t mess with them in mating season.

Anyway, I came up with this variation on French bullfighting, Taureau Piscine , except with unicorns. You got a point every time you and the unicorn were in the swimming pool together. We did Licorne Pasteque , too. Brought out a side table and a couple of chairs and set them up on the lawn. Cut up the watermelon and took turns. You can eat the watermelon, but only while you’re sitting at the table. Meanwhile the unicorn is getting more and more pissed off that you’re in its territory.

It was insanely awesome until the stupid unicorn broke its leg going into the pool, and somebody had to come and put a bullet in its head. Plus, the Olds got mad about one of the chairs. Turned out to be an antique. Priceless. The unicorn broke the back to kindling.

“Do you remember how cried and cried?” says. Even this is part of the happy memory for . She hates . Why? Some boring reason. I forget the specifics. Here’s the gist of it: is fat. is a bitch.

“I felt sorrier for whoever was going to have to clean up the pool,” I say.

“Liar,” says. “You’ve never felt sorry for anyone in your life. You’re a textbook sociopath. You were going to kill all of our friends. I’m doing the world a huge favor.”