The Pandora Effect

by Olivia Darnell

  “I’m sure you will find something,” Angelica assured her. “An event such as that would call for a unique gift.”

  “Well, I really appreciate this, Mr. Aliger.” Louis said as he picked up the little box again and re-wrapped it in the tissue paper. He placed it back in the box and stood up.

  “Yes, a special gift,” Julia said enthusiastically cutting off Louis’s attempt to leave. “It’s very nice of you to give these things to Louis. I know Frank would love to see your store and meet the both of you. He’s majoring in Criminology, you know, but he loves antiques and stuff like that. He wants to be a Texas Ranger some day. His great uncle was a Texas Ranger, wasn’t he, Louis?” She did not pause for a reply and Louis sat down again. “One of these days he might even go into politics. Of course, he’ll be starting out with the State Troopers in the crime lab. He’s already been offered a position there in Austin.”

  “That sounds very promising,” Angelica mused as she poured another cup of tea for Julia from the tea pot on the table and sat back in her chair tucking one foot under her.

  “I’m very proud of him,” Julia continued.

  Perry had poured himself a cup of the green tea and had sat back down, crossing his legs while listening attentively to Julia’s narrative. Julia talked animatedly about Frank while Louis sat drumming his fingers on the back of the sofa. He glanced at Perry from time to time and never failed to catch him looking at him with his peculiar expression. It almost seemed he was totally amused with the both of them. A half-smile played on his lips and his violet eyes twinkled as if it were the most interesting conversation he had ever been a party to in his life. Louis couldn’t wait to get with Tyler McDaniels and tell him about it. See what he thought of it.

  Occasionally, he would sneak a peek at Angelica, but she appeared totally enrapt by Julia’s chatter. His mind wandered back to the conversation he’d had with Tyler and Mike at the fishing hole. There had been something strange about it. He still wondered how Mike had figured out what he had wanted to do about the War Memorial. Suddenly the entire exchange was replaying in his head like a mini-movie. It was a strange sensation and there seemed to be some hidden meaning lurking in the scenes or just out of sight and sound in the wings. His attention was suddenly drawn back to the conversation at hand as he heard his name mentioned. “I think so,” Julia was saying. “Louis wanted to be a State Trooper, didn’t you, honey?" She rubbed the back of his hand. "But he was a quarter of an inch too short and twenty pounds overweight and that was a long time ago. Now he’s even shorter and more overweight. They used to be a lot more strict about their height and weight requirements. Of course, Louis has always been on the heavy side.” She patted his tummy gently.

  Louis was very put out by her comments, especially in front of the Aligers. He sucked in his stomach automatically, cleared his throat and felt his face reddening, but Julia continued unabated. She told about Frank’s childhood including a boating accident in which he had almost lost a foot in the motor blade. She slowed down only when Angelica refilled her cup for the third time.

  Perry held up three fingers causing Angelica to frown at him.

  “Excuse me,” Louis sat up. “What was that you just did?” He directed the question at Perry.

  “What?” Perry asked innocently and Angelica closed her eyes.

  “The three fingers,” Louis said. “You held up three fingers. I was just curious.”

  “Oh.” Perry glanced at Angelica. “That’s your wife’s third cup. I was just reminding Angelica of what she was referring to earlier. The ancient Chinese poem about drinking tea.”

  Julia raised her eyebrows and looked down in the cup wondering briefly how it was that the tea was still steaming hot. “And what is significant about the third cup?” She leaned towards Angelica.

  “The third cup... and the poet warns against drinking more than three cups of green tea at any one sitting... the third cup, he says searches the dry rivulets of the soul to find the stories of five thousand scrolls. You see each cup you drink progressively makes you feel better according to Lu Tong. It cleanses your mind and eases your troubles and makes your spirit soar. Lu Tong thought that tea drinking was the answer to humanity’s problems.”

  “I wish!” Louis scoffed and then stood up with a note of finality. “If I drink enough tea, my spirits would soar alright. They’d soar to the bathroom about fifteen times in the middle of the night. Makes for too many pit stops.”

  “Pit stops?” Angelica looked up at him and he was immediately taken in by her deep brown eyes. He’d almost managed not to notice them since they had been there.

  “Yeah, uh, yes,” he stammered and reached to pick up the box. “I spend most of my day in a patrol car. I can’t be stopping every fifteen minutes looking for a... a...” He couldn’t finish the statement with her eyes on him like that.

  “Beer does the same thing,” Julia took one last drink of tea and stood up beside him. “Tea would be better for you.”

  “I don’t drink tea or beer while I’m on duty.” He looked at her incredulously. “You act like I’m an wino or something.”

  Perry and Angelica exchanged meaningful looks.

  “It’s one of the reasons you have a weight problem,” she told him to his chagrin. The last thing he wanted was to have his slight paunchiness and his beer drinking pointed out in front of Angelica. She did not seem to be the type to approve of drinking in any shape or form and certainly, if one considered Perry Aliger’s appearance, she liked her men tall and slender. He just couldn’t imagine Perry Aliger drinking a Bud Light.

  “More coffee, Louis?” Angelica stood up suddenly and picked up his cup from the table without waiting for a reply and went off toward the kitchen. He looked at Julia and then at Perry who shrugged. Louis set down the box and resumed his seat on the sofa resolutely. Julia did not seem put out at all and happily sat next to him and picked up her cup. He was totally shocked that Julia seemed more than willing to stay longer after all the trouble he had getting her to come in the first place.

  “My mother used to write some poetry,” Julia told Perry.

  Louis sat back to watch the exchange going on between them. Was he as charming to her as Angelica was to him? Why was he thinking such thoughts? And about Julia! No, not his Julia. That could never be the case. She was just lonely after spending so much time cooped up in her bedroom, praying. What did she pray for, he wondered? He never remembered hearing her ask for anything in particular. Surely she hadn’t been praying for someone like Perry Aliger to come along and pay attention to her. His thoughts rose in timbre inside his head. But there was no way around it, he was jealous and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt the way he did at that moment. It was almost as if she knew about his feelings for Angelica and was deliberately setting about to show him how it felt. Angelica returned with the coffee which had a decidedly vanilla taste to it. Smooth and creamy like expensive, clean sheets after a long shower. He focused on the coffee and tried to bring his thoughts back to reality.

  “And that was about four years ago,” Julia concluded and set down her cup. She had just finished a lengthy summation of her fight with cancer. Louis was in a daze. Julia had never told anyone about her troubles and she had never used the ‘C’ word that he had heard. How was it that she could sit here with two almost complete strangers and run down the whole terrible truth to them? hell, she hadn’t even told him some of the things she had just expounded upon. He had a lot to think about. And quite frankly he didn’t want to think at all.

  Julia reached for the teapot and shook it before pouring out the last of the tea into her cup.

  “This is the fourth cup. What does your ‘Too Long’ say about it?” Julia asked him and Louis let go a sigh.

  “With the fourth cup the pain of past injustices are supposed to vanish through your pores,” Perry paraphrased the poet’s words.

  “He could be right,” Julia nodded. “I haven’t felt this good in months. I’m sure it�
��s just a fluke. But I keep hoping the doctors are wrong. You never know. I’ve always believed that when your time comes, it’s God’s will and you just have to accept it. Maybe it’s better not to know ahead of time, but then, if you do, that’s God’s will, too.”

  “That’s a stoic view,” Angelica said dryly.

  “Tell me about cup number five.” Julia looked at Perry almost ignoring Angelica totally now.

  “Whoa, Betsy!” Louis stood up again. “It’s almost ten o’clock and we’ve all got work tomorrow,” he said quickly.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize.” Julia looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. We’ve kept these good people much too long.”

  “That’s quite all right.” Angelica pushed herself out of the chair where she’d been sitting with both feet curled under her. She reminded Louis of a sleek cat and he almost expected her to begin preening herself. “We’ve enjoyed every moment, haven’t we... Sweetheart?”

  Perry was taken aback. Angelica had never used such a word before.

  He was even more surprised when she crossed the space between them to take him by both arms to pull him out of the chair.

  “Beyond a doubt,” he said quietly as his wife wrapped one arm around his waist and smiled up at him adoringly. It was just a show... after all.

  Louis picked up the box and Julia followed him to the door. Perry and Angelica followed them out and stood on the balcony as they made their way down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, Julia turned to wave back up at them. She took Louis by his free arm and said “Oh, look at the moon, Sugar. Isn’t it beautiful?” Then they were gone out of sight around the end of the building.

  Angelica and Perry looked at each other in puzzlement. They went down the stairs and looked cautiously around the corner of the building at the full, brilliant white moon visible at the end of Catherine Street between the trees. Angelica frowned at the sight of the deceptively over-sized orb and then looked up at Perry as if waiting for an explanation. He just smiled and turned back toward the stairs.

  Angelica followed more slowly.

  “I fail to see the attraction,” she commented when they were back inside. “I have often wondered why they are so preoccupied with gazing at Luna.”

  “If you have to wonder about it, Angelica,” Perry smiled somewhat sadly. “Then you are definitely not ready for the answer.”

  Chapter Fourteen:.

  “You made your point, Peregrin,” Angelica said after sitting for a few moments in silence staring out at the moonlit streets of Magnolia Springs.

  “Did I?” He asked and stretched his legs in front him and his arms over his head.

  “Yes, you did,” she said almost reluctantly. “Perhaps the thoughts of others can inspire emotional responses. I appreciate the information, but I do not think it is truly relevant no matter how interesting it might be. I believe that her recovery is progressing quite well. The green tea I sent with them should produce a noticeable effect. She was looking quite animated tonight.”

  “Very,” Perry agreed. “But surely a little romantic musing will help.”

  “You really enjoy yourself, don’t you?” She looked at him and tilted her head to one side. “You actually amuse yourself.”

  “Yes, I think I do,” he agreed and smiled. “Whoa Betsy!” He imitated Louis Parks’ drawl perfectly.

  “What does that mean?” She asked. “Woe means trouble and Betsy is not Mrs. Parks’ name.”

  “I’m not sure, but it’s fun to say,” he told her.

  “Tell me about this attraction to the moon.” She took on a demanding tone he knew all too well. Now she was treating him as her lab assistant. A regression.

  “Gravitationally speaking, it is what causes the ebb and flow of the tides in the oceans and seas and in some of the larger lakes such as Lake Michigan and...”

  “Stop it!” She said irritably. “Do not toy with me. You know perfectly well what the question is, Peregrin Caelum.”

  “All right. Let’s see.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes before quoting Sydney Carter's hymn.

  “I danced in the morning

  When the world began

  And I danced in the moon

  And the stars and the sun

  And I came down from Heaven

  And I danced on the Earth...”

  She turned her attention back to the streets below, contemplating his words.

  “Did you make that up?” She asked.

  “And what if I told you I did?” He raised his head to look at her.

  “It explains nothing,” she said shortly.

  He adjusted himself in the chair and leaned on one elbow closer to her to quote the words of G.K. Chesterton.

  “When fishes flew and forests walked

  And figs grew upon thorns

  Some moment when the moon was blood

  Then surely I was born.”

  He quoted again from his yellow book the words to the song by Sam Cooke:.

  “The moon belongs to everyone

  The best things in life are free

  The stars belong to everyone

  They gleam there for you and me.”

  Angelica made no response.

  “The moon,” he continued “is nothing but a circumambulating aphrodisiac divinely subsidized to provoke the world into a rising birth-rate.”

  “There!” She turned to him triumphantly. “There is the answer. That is what I wanted you to explain. Why would the moon or any other celestial body inspire people to engage in... procreation?”

  “Not procreation,” he objected. “It does not inspire them to procreate. It inspires them to make love. There is a difference.”

  “But with the same results,” she nodded, quite satisfied to have reduced all his efforts to a hormonal level.

  “But not with the intent to procreate,” he told her.

  “What other intent can there be to such an act?” She asked as if daring him to expound.

  “You do not believe that people engage in sexual activities for reasons other than to propagate their race?” He asked her.

  “Do you claim to know the difference between the two? Is it not an exercise in the survival of the species?”

  “I claim to know nothing.” He closed his eyes again. This time from a growing sense of weariness. “I imagine that I do.”

  “There you go with your poets again,” she said disdainfully. “You are as bad as they are.”

  “Bad? In what way?” He blinked at her.

  “You are confusing. You speak in riddles. You say pretty words that make no sense under closer scrutiny and when you are put to the test, you present no empirical evidence. Instead, you resort to your speculations and imaginations.”

  “And you revert to your laboratory rats again,” he told her resignedly. “You are lacking essential data.”

  “You still think I should get into the maze?” She asked.

  “You have not put me to the test. And I am quite sure that I could present you with some empirical evidence given half the chance. You should listen to your instincts,” he told her.

  “Instincts are not in question here,” she said adamantly. “All forms of life have them. I find them quite distracting. We are concerned with the soul, not the physical body. The basic link between all sapient life forms and sentient beings. If you wish to ponder and consider, ponder and consider that!”

  “...their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, even in your dreams,” Perry quoted from Kahlil Gibran.

  “And dreams!” Angelica sat straight up. “Those are the most disturbing episodes, but I will tell you what I believe, Peregrin. I believe that dreams belong to the soul. When the mind... the conscious mind... shuts down for sleeping, the soul takes advantage of the down time to live its own life. The being within the being. The soul does not dwell in the house of tomorrow, it lies in the tombs of the night, buried in the conscious mind. Have you, yourself, experienced these occurrences?”
>
  “Dreams?” He looked away from her. “I have experienced dreams while asleep and awake. They are quite exhilarating at times. And other times not so. I do not agree with you. I don’t think that dreams are the separate life of the soul. I believe that they are the separate life of the conscious mind, living freely what it would if it were not constrained by the physical body and societal strictures. I believe that dreams are a way of doing what you want to do without anyone’s approval or disdain.”

  “Then you have not experience nightmares!” She told him

  “Oh, the little horror stories?” He laughed. “Do you have nightmares, Angelica? You should have told me about them. I attribute nightmares to my imagination which is, as you know, quite rampant at times. I believe nightmares are puzzles presented to us by life and then re-arranged into more understandable forms. The challenges presented in nightmares are solvable. If you can determine where they come from, you can solve the problem. They are perfectly safe ways to work out solutions... no matter how insidious they may seem. If we cannot dream our way out of them, we can simply wake up.”

  “Your imagination is certainly rampant,” she agreed whole-heartedly. “Now tell me what your nightmares are.”

  “Shhh!” He held up one hand to silence her and she looked about.

  “What is it?” She whispered.

  “Julia and Louis,” he said. “They have come back to see my little friend.”

  “How do you know?” She asked him incredulously.

  “He sent me a message,” he whispered as he smiled at her.

  “Shhh!” Louis pressed one finger to Julia’s lips as she giggled. He led her up the stairs very quietly. He held her hand and they stayed close to the wall in the deepest shadows. He knew it was ridiculous and that they would never be able to explain why they were trespassing on the Aliger’s property at midnight, but hell, who cared? Julia was still glowing from the effects of the visit. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and turned it on to shine it at the base of the Aliger’s doorjamb.