PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Please tell me we have plans every day the next two weeks,” Bianca said, twisting in her chair to face us across the aisle. “My parents want Karin to tutor me.”

  Bianca’s parents considered her a disgrace. They were a very traditional Chinese family and while her older brother was entering medical school and her younger sister was some kind of cello prodigy, Bianca was, well...Bianca. She tinged her pixie cut hair with purple streaks and she wore a bit too much eye shadow. According to her parents, she had no interests that would lead to any future employment. Apparently being able to scout out hot guys with her eyes closed wasn’t going to help her cut it in the real world.

  “In what?” I asked, knowing that despite her apparent rebel look she had the highest GPA of all my friends.

  “Mandarin.”

  “Isn’t that, like, Chinese?” Tonya asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And aren’t you Chinese?”

  Bianca rolled her eyes. “So? Just because I’m Chinese doesn’t mean I speak all Chinese dialects. My family speaks Cantonese, but my parents say Mandarin will be more useful in the business world and the last time Karin came over she blabbed to my mom about this Mandarin class she’s taking at the community college.”

  “Hey, Karin’s not so bad,” Owen spoke up from the other side of Bianca.

  Tonya made a barfing sound. Her dislike of Karin was well known to everyone including Karin, despite the fact she was part of our group of friends.

  “I have family coming in, but I should be able to get away some of the time.” I rolled my pencil back and forth along the table. “I can do something tomorrow.”

  “Let’s go shopping, we can have a girls’ day,” Bianca said.

  “What about me?” Owen flicked her head and she gave him a gentle elbow back.

  “Okay, a girls plus one day then,” she said.

  “Nah, I have better things to do.” He turned back to his stack of books and pulled one out, flipping to a dog-eared page. Bianca and I rolled our eyes. Owen was just plain weird sometimes.

  “I might have some time after Christmas,” Tonya said, then pulled out her cell and started punching away at some text.

  I leaned over, trying to see what she was typing. She knew I didn’t do texts and the only other people I could think she’d want to message sat across the aisle from us. She shot me a dirty look, and tilted her phone away from my eyes. I stuck my tongue out at her, and settled back in my chair. She’d been acting really strange the past few months, always busy with some vague thing she had to do with her grandma. Then again, she had a grandma who wasn’t always nosing around into everything you’d done since you’d last seen her, so maybe she didn’t mind.

  Mrs. Schaeffer came in, and after ten minutes of lecturing about the importance of dissection as a method of learning more about organisms and the humane treatment of the specimens, the lights dimmed and the computerized video projector started. Normally movie time was an opportunity to catch up on some of my sleep, but Tonya began kicking me under the table.

  “So?” she whispered.

  “What?” I looked at her and smiled at the expectant expression she wore.

  “Come on, Phoebs, you know you can’t not tell me what the note said.” She leaned closer, her eyes growing wide. “You took off with it like the room was on fire. It must have been really good. Sex talk, right? I always knew Vivian was a little skanky. And Nathan has always been a bit too quiet.”

  Her eyebrows wiggled and I broke out in a laugh. Mrs. Schaeffer gave a sharp cough from her desk in the front corner of the room and I stifled my chuckles. No way did I need an office referral the day before Christmas break.

  “No sex talk,” I whispered. “Honest. It was just some stupid stuff. Their reaction was too much. Did you see Nathan’s face when I grabbed it?” My soft laugh sounded forced even to my ears. I opened my binder and focused on drawing a swirling flower pattern on a blank sheet of paper, avoiding her gaze.

  I didn’t want her to know what the note said. Although I couldn’t figure out why it would matter, the idea of her knowing that he had tried to break up with Vivian in a note just didn’t sit right. Hell, I didn’t even want Vivian to know.

  “He looked like he was gonna piss his pants. You sure it wasn’t something important?” Tonya asked.

  She eyed me suspiciously and I tried to relax my smile into something more natural. Considering I was supposed to be the one with some kind of internal lie detector, she was a lot better at finding fibs than I was.

  “Can you really picture Nathan and Vivian ever having a meaningful conversation, let alone in a note?” I arched a brow and this time it wasn’t as difficult coming up with a believable expression. Until I snatched the white missile, I hadn’t thought it possible either.

  “Ladies,” Mrs. Schaeffer’s voice boomed over the droning commentator from the video.

  Our heads whipped up to find her glaring at us. Most of the time, a dirty look from a teacher didn’t fazed us, but Mrs. Schaeffer had a wonky eye and a husband nobody had seen in five years.

  “You’re more than welcome to watch the video after class with me or you can stop your chatting and watch it now.”

  Knowing from experience she was serious, our heads bobbed frantically. The dissections continued and I slouched back in my chair, tipping the hard plastic seat back on two legs. I really had no interest in biology and even less in chemistry or physics. If Dad hadn’t made two science classes mandatory, I’d have enrolled in three sessions of art. Closing my eyes, I let myself drift off, blocking out Tonya’s groan of dissatisfaction. The noises around me faded and I imagined Nathan at the beach, decked out in his surfing gear. Fantasies were so much easier than real life.

  I was almost asleep when something hit the back of my head causing me to jerk up and nearly fall out of my seat as it skidded backwards with a grating screech of protest along the tiled floor. Two dozen sets of eyes focused on me and only the darkened room concealed my embarrassment. I gave a grin and waved at my gawkers, putting in a little extra smirk for Owen and Bianca, who tried so hard not to laugh.

  Once everyone, other than Tonya, had diverted their attention away from me and back to the screen, I glanced behind me to see what had ended my nap. Resting inches from my black boot was a balled up piece of paper. My eyes shifted around, looking for who had decided I was the new trash can, and they came to rest on Vivian. Figured. How was it possible to have been in this class with her for an entire semester and not even realize she was there? I didn’t skip that often.

  I picked up the paper and then swiveled back around to face Tonya. “When did she start coming to this class?”

  “This is the first time. Maybe she’s stalking you.”

  Shaking my head in denial, or maybe in defeat, I smoothed out the crumpled paper.

  Leave Nathan alone.

  I looked back at Vivian and she made some kind of ugly face that I guessed was supposed to be threatening, then grabbed her things and stomped out of class. Mrs. Schaffer harrumphed and someone giggled, probably Bianca.

  Vivian was such a drama queen. What did Nathan ever see in her? I rolled my eyes, then slid the note over to Tonya. Her soaring eyebrows made me wish I hadn’t. No way now would she believe me about the first note. My best chance against her questioning was a quick escape after class, before she started the interrogation.

  Luck, however, deserted me. The bell rang and Tonya grabbed my bag, holding it hostage behind her as she stood with the table between us. That was the problem with having a best friend; they always knew what you were going to do. She was almost as bad, or good depending on your point of view, as Chloe sometimes, though I’d never say that to Chloe. Doing that would just open Chloe’s vision floodgates and I’d be constantly bombarded with every detail of every soon to be minute of my life.

  I refused to struggle for my bag. Tonya would only take it as confirmation that I was hiding something from her. Instead, I screwed my face up in confusion and
hoped she’d buy it.

  “What’s wrong?” I sank back further in my chair, tipping it up on its back legs again as Mrs. Schaeffer went out the door, following the rest of the students. Owen and Bianca stopped behind Tonya, waiting, Owen looking mildly disinterested, while Bianca was completely confused.

  “What are you hiding?” Tonya asked, her head tilting to the side.

  “Noth-”

  “Cut the crap, Phoebs. Vivian is pissed and you’ve been looking guilty all class, well at least the part where you were awake.” Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring my bag as it swung around and bumped her hip. There was no way to get out of this, but if I told her now it’d be all over campus within an hour.

  “Fine, but not at school. I’ll tell you when you come over tomorrow.”

  “I can’t tomorrow.” Her face shuttered and she turned around, tossing my bag to me in a quick motion. I caught it as it slammed into my chest.

  “Why? I thought we were gonna go Christmas shopping? You already ditched me last weekend.” There were only six days left to shop and I needed to get, well, everything, and Tonya was one of those people that managed to find the best things the instant she walked into a store.

  She shrugged and twisted a strand of her straightened hair.

  “I’ve gotta go see my mom.”

  Liar. It whispered through me, my stomach churning to the point I thought I’d puke. There was a moment when my brain tried to make sense of what I was hearing, what I was feeling, then it came again. Liar.

  “Liar.” The word slipped out, unrestrained in its harshness, and almost instantly, my stomach settled. Until I saw the expression on Tonya’s face.

  “What did you call me?” Her back stiffened and her head reared back. Shit. Owen and Bianca went bug-eyed behind her. Tonya’s lips pursed and her eyes narrowed, darkening from brown to black.

  “I...I...” My voice faded, unsure if I should call her on it again, or try and fib my way out of it. This wasn’t the first time I’d called her a liar and she’d always laughed it off before. Her reaction and the flush coloring the soft brown of her cheeks told me I’d actually caught her.

  “Screw you,” she snapped as I stood there with my mouth moving like a gasping fish. “I don’t need to tell you every move I make, and I don’t need my best friend calling me a liar.” She spun, shoved Owen out of her way, and took off out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  My bag thudded to the floor. Owen and Bianca stared at me, the question in their faces a reflection I was sure of my own. What the hell had just happened?

  Chapter 2

  I pulled up in front of the house after school and groaned, every hope of evading Nanna vanished. Her old blue Plymouth was parked in the driveway. I hesitated before putting my Sunfire into park. The urge to simply drive away overwhelmed me, pushing me to switch gears and press my foot back on the gas, but her head had already peeked out the screen door. I turned the car off and grabbed my bag. Sliding out of the front seat, I barely controlled the urge to get back in and speed off.

  There’d been a time when I loved Nanna’s visits, before I realized she was using me. Every hug and smile she gave wasn’t really for me, but for who I reminded her of. Oh sure, a part of her loved me for me, but mostly I was her favorite because I was the living image of my mother.

  “Phoebe dear, I missed you this afternoon.” She smiled sweetly and came out onto the front porch, as if she didn’t know how much I wanted to avoid her, which of course she did know. I tried to shake off the guilt flooding me. She hadn’t really missed me. She’d missed seeing Mom.

  “Hey, Nanna,” I said, walking up the path to the house. There was a chance that if I could ignore her suffocating presence, she might just leave me alone. I didn’t need her trying to analyze me, especially when I was still confused about what had happened with Tonya.

  “You really shouldn’t be out without your jacket.” She reached for me as I made it to the top of the steps, enfolding me in a hug that felt like the warm fuzzies we practiced giving in kindergarten. It was always like that with Nanna. No matter how crappy I felt seeing her or talking to her, her hugs were like magic. I used to wonder if she had a bit of Lily’s gift to make people feel better, then I’d learned she could give some nasty cold pricklies on the side, something I didn’t think Lily could ever do. “You’re shivering. Have you told your father about the heater in your car not working? What would happen if you were caught in some bad weather? You’d freeze.”

  “Nanna, we live in southern California. I don’t think we really need to worry about snowstorms. Besides I’m pretty sure Chloe would see it coming.”

  I pulled out of the comforting hug and then, following her through the front door, glanced around the living room for my sisters. Not surprisingly, they were nowhere around. The two of them were determined to get me to talk to Nanna. Lily probably thought it would make me feel better about ‘things’, even if she wasn’t sure what those ‘things’ were. Chloe would just want me to do it because she had to make sure her vision was still right.

  Nothing about our house had changed in the seventeen years since Mom and Dad bought the place. Dad repainted every few years the exact shade of green Mom had picked out, despite it being a vile lima bean color and completely out of step with anything remotely resembling good taste by today’s standards. Even the porch swing was identical to the one Mom bought, although Dad had replaced it after I broke it doing one of my gymnastics routines back before I’d realized gymnastics actually required some discipline and just a hint of athleticism.

  “I’d like to speak with you,” Nanna said, turning to face me with her business face. Her hands propped on her hips, and there was a slight tap to her right foot.

  “I’m really not in the mood. Tonya and I had a fight.” I walked around her, intent on going down to my room.

  “Well, what can you expect? You called her a liar,” she said, exasperated.

  My head dropped back in defeat. No way would she let this slide. As annoying as it was for Chloe to always tell you your future, Nanna could always make it worse by bringing up the past.

  I went to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair, and sat, my eyes following my fingers as they began tracing the intricate lace flower pattern of the tablecloth.

  “Phoebe, what happened?” she asked, sitting across from me, the chair creaking in protest under her heavy frame.

  Gnarled hands stretched across the table to grasp mine. The warmth of her grip was soothing, reminding me of when I was little and she would come and read my past, making me feel just a bit more secure in the knowledge that even if I didn’t know what the future held for me, I knew what the past did. I’d always loved that until she’d started calling me on things I didn’t want brought back up, like the time I stole Chloe’s favorite Barbie and tested out my hairstyling skills.

  Nanna needed a connection in order for her gift to work. Touching a person could let her see all of the memories they left open, even those little forgotten ones. When she’d moved to the old folks’ home five years ago, I’d thought I was a bit safer, until I found out she’d taken one of my hairbrushes. It was far enough removed from me that it didn’t let her see everything, but what I couldn’t contain hidden behind a mental wall was enough for her to get an idea of what I was usually up to. I always felt like someone was watching over my shoulder.

  She waited for an answer, but I didn’t give her one. She would see everything anyways. At my lack of response, she sighed and let my fingers slip from hers, obviously finished with my memory. She shook her head and said, “You’re just like your mother.”

  I stiffened in my seat. That was not what I wanted to hear. Not because I didn’t love my mother, or at least the idea of her, or even that I didn’t want to be like her. I just didn’t want to be a replacement for her, which is exactly what Nanna wanted.

  “Before she met your father she didn’t want to accept her gift either. Once she met Mi
chael, she realized the benefits of giving hope. She never listened to her heart, how it wanted her to help the people around her, but Michael’s problems went beyond what she’d seen before. That was when she started -”

  “It’s not the same, Nanna.” I pushed my chair back, intent on ending the conversation. “Mom made a choice not to use her gift. Mine hasn’t appeared.”

  “It’s there, Phoebe, otherwise, why would you call Tonya a liar?”

  Defeated, I sank back onto the hard seat. She wouldn’t leave me alone until I told her and if I tried not telling her she’d just watch me harder. Sometimes I wish that along with seeing the past she could hear and feel everything I did at that time as well, so I wouldn’t have to go through the process of explaining myself.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, one second she’s telling me she’s going to see her mom and the next I called her a liar.”

  “There must have been something. What were you feeling?”

  “My stomach cramped,” I said, and her head nodded.

  “Your Aunt Ava had similar symptoms when she suspected someone was lying. But you sounded so sure when you said it, as if you really knew she was lying, not simply suspected she was.”

  “I wasn’t sure. I mean, I wasn’t really calling her a liar, I was just repeating it.”

  “Repeating who?” She leaned forward, the creases scoring her forehead deepening.

  “I don’t know. Just some voice in my head.” My words seemed to echo through the room and I watched her eyes widen impossibly. “Is that wrong?”

  I had no idea how these gifts worked, especially since Lily and Chloe both had different experiences. Chloe explained her visions as a blurry still-frame movie playing over top of what she saw in front of her, while Lily said she would get a tingling in her hands when she felt someone in pain. Neither of them had talked about voices. In fact, none of my mom’s relatives had ever mentioned voices, and considering the look Nanna was giving me, hearing them wasn’t a good sign.