The Pandora Effect

by Olivia Darnell

  “So you are a scientist!” Sam exclaimed and looked at her with renewed interest.

  “Yes, she is,” Perry answered before Angelica could say anything. “She believes that it is not necessary for the scientist to get into the maze with the rats to understand their behavior. What do you think, Mr. Morris?”

  “I suppose it would be hard to empathize with someone without some sort of common frame of reference,” Sam tried hard to sound intelligent. He was after all an educated man. He lacked much in the scientific pursuits, but he’d taken all the basic courses. He’d rarely met anyone with which he couldn’t carry on some sort of intelligent conversation. “If we really want to know how someone feels, we need to know something about how the person thinks or at least, what they think.”

  “Especially those close to us?” Perry asked him.

  “Yes, certainly,” Sam told him. He wondered if Maureen had been telling him about their relationship. Maureen was always accusing him of not understanding how she felt about things. He supposed that there was some truth to it. He had always wondered why Maureen seemed so unhappy with the way things were. Furthermore, he had always felt that Maureen did not understand him either.

  “Well, then.” Perry stood up. “It certainly has been a pleasure talking to you, Mr. Morris. I can assure you that I have no ill feelings about your behavior this morning. I should think it very admirable of you to be looking out for your fiancée's welfare. And I’m glad we could be of assistance to you.”

  Sam stood up to shake hands with him again, albeit reluctantly, but no shock occurred. He was totally confused. How had they assisted him? He’d come to try to round up some business for the Savings and Loan and had been given some kind of weird counseling. He had the distinct feeling that he was being dismissed much like he dismissed his loan officers and tellers at the end of a boring staff meeting when he had grown tired of listening to their endless complaints. It felt none too pleasant to be on the receiving end of it, but it was obviously time to go.

  “I’d best be getting home,” he said almost reluctantly. “It was a pleasure meeting the both of you. I hope you enjoy your stay in Magnolia Springs and, as I said, if there is anything I can help you with, feel free to stop by and see me at the S and L. My business card is in the packet.”

  “We’ll surely do that, Mr. Morris,” Angelica told him as Perry made a move to usher him out.

  Sam sat for several minutes in the cool comfort of the Lincoln before starting it up. Something was very strange about the Aligers. He felt as if he had been through a terrible ordeal. His shoulders hurt and the headache lingered. He felt very guilty about all the things he had said and thought about Maureen. He suddenly wanted to get home to see her. He hoped that she had waited for him and had not gone off to the spa or...somewhere.

  Mike Padgett sat brooding over his beer at Harold’s while Tyler slouched in a chair next to him. Billy Johnson was in his customary seat on Tyler’s left. They were all pretty much depressed over Mike’s predicament and none of them had any useful ideas. Mike was glad for the sympathy. It was good to have friends to share his troubles with. Billy occasionally spouted various oaths and curses directed at Mike’s former employer. But no amount of swearing and cussing could cure the situation. At six forty-five, Harold’s was virtually empty on a Thursday evening. Tyler was there only because he’d heard about Mike’s misfortune and had noticed his Jeep parked outside.

  The front door opened to admit a big man dressed much like Billy Johnson in overalls and a tee shirt. Donald Baxter, Magnolia Springs' premier Ace Hardware man. He blinked in the dim light and then came to their table to sit in the empty chair next to Mike.

  “Hey, Mike!” He said clapping the smaller man on the back. “Tyler. Billy.”

  “Hey, Don,” they answered in glum unison.

  “What’s up?” Tyler asked him.

  “Nothin’ much,” Don waved for a beer. “Mike, you still doin’ that woodworkin’ stuff?”

  “Yeah, but I’m gonna have to give it up for awhile,” Mike told him. “It’s too damned expensive. Do you know that one plain old four foot pine one by twelve costs eight or nine dollars? The real pretty stuff costs up to thirty-six dollars a board. Like cedar and birch.” Mike shook his head. “Then there’s saw blades and sandpaper and varnish and stuff, but you know how much that costs, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I know,” Don nodded. “That’s too bad about your job. Specially since I got somebody who might be intrested in buyin’ some of those clocks from you. Maybe even a whole truck load of ’em, matter of fact. Guy owns a store. Sells knick-knacks and stuff. Said ’e’d like to put in some of the local stuff and ast me if I knew of anybody who made crafts. Called ’em artists! Said ’e’d pay good money for ’em.”

  “Really?” Mike perked up and remembered what Joanne had told him. “Who? Where?”

  “Wait.” Don started searching his numerous pockets for something. “He give me a card. Here it is.” He pulled a business card from his bib pocket and handed it to Mike. “Got a funny name. Knew I’d never remember it.”

  “Well,” Tyler sat up straighter. “Here’s your chance to become famous, Mike. Maybe your guardian angel is lookin’ out for you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Mike shoved the card over in front of Tyler. “And maybe somethin’ else is lookin’ out for me.”

  Tyler picked up the card.

  “Well, I’m damned.” Tyler said softly as he squinted at the card in the poor light. “Peregrin Aliger, Esquire, QUO FATA VOCANT, Antiques, Handicrafts and Imports, The New Castle Gift Shop, 221 Catherine Street, Magnolia Springs, Texas. How about that?”

  “What?” Billy leaned forward to look at the little card then snatched it from Tyler’s hand to read it for himself.

  “What do you think, Mike?” Don looked at him. “I’d say the guy's loaded. He sure smelled like money and I bet ’e’s got connections all over the state. He looked like one ’o them guys in the Texas Monthly c’lone ads. Y’know? My grampa always said there’s sucker born ever minute.”

  “I didn’t know you were related to P.T. Barnum!” Tyler grinned at Don who frowned in puzzlement.

  “Whaddaya tryin’ to say, Don? Only a sucker would by my stuff?” Tyler’s comment passed over all their heads as Mike peered at Don in confusion.

  “Naw, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that this guy could pay good for your stuff and prob’ly knows people who’d pay even more for it. You know how those rich people are. You stick two things together ain’t never been stuck together before and they’ll pay thousands of dollars for it,” Don explained. “This might be your lucky-ass break.”

  “Yeah!” Billy joined in. “You ought to go by and see ’im. I heard he’s loaded to the gills. What’s a few thousand to a feller like that? Could tide you over til you can get another job. Louis told me the other day that when he ast him for a donation for the war memorial, he pulled out his wallet an’ said ‘how much do you need?’ like he would’ve just gave him the whole amount on the spot. I ast Louis why the hell he didn’t take it and just forget about the damned booth an’ all. Louis is such a dick sometimes. Hell, he prob’ly could’ve got enough money to rebuild the flagpole and give us all a beer bust in the bargain.”

  Mike shook his head. “He done the right thing, Billy. You just don’t go round takin’ money from a guy like that. He would’ve ended up owin’ him something. As I see it, this looks like more’n a coincidence too. Looks like a setup to me. I lose my job an’ here comes his card like outta the blue. What’d I tell you fellers about him?”

  “Yeah, Mike.” Billy leaned forward to look at Mike with wide eyes. “First he’s after your clocks and then... your time... and then... tick-tock, tick-tock... “

  Mike’s eyes were wide with suspense and Tyler hid his face behind his hands.

  Billy took a deep breath and leaned back in his rickety chair. “Cuckoo! Cuckoo! He’ll have your soul!” Billy waved to the bartender to send him another beer
and then laughed loudly at Mike’s expression.

  “Damn you!” Mike leaned back frowning. “It ain’t funny, I tell you!”

  “I don’t know what ya’ll are talkin’ about,” Don told them. “I sure didn’t mean to cause you no trouble, Mike. I’m sorry I told him who you was.”

  Mike let out a long breath and picked up his beer.

  “Seriously, though, Mike,” Tyler felt the need to say something. “Let’s go gather up some of your stuff and take it over to him. He ain’t so bad. I promise you. I’ve met him up close and real personal, remember? I’ll introduce you to him. You said you’d like to meet him. And then you can decide whether you want to deal with him or not.”

  “Yeah!” Billy agreed seriously. “Let me finish this one and I’ll go with ya’ll, just in case. I’d like for Mike to take a readin’ on him, up close and personal like you said, Tyler. If he tries anything funny, I’ll knock his lights out.”

  “Ain’t funny,” Mike mumbled in his glass.

  Tyler gave Billy a warning glance.

  “You have been exceptionally quiet since you came back,” Angelica said as they sat in front of the tall windows overlooking Main Street. Magnolia Springs was closing up for the night. The theatre had just turned on it’s tall marquee lights signaling that they were open for business. A short line had formed in front of the ticket booth. Several cars were parked in the slanted slots in front the General Mercantile.

  “I suppose I don’t have much to say,” Peregrin told her. She had effectively made her point that she would not welcome anymore of his conversation or opinions unless they were scientifically what she considered significant.

  “That is unusual for you,” she said then asked “where did you go?”

  “To the hardware store,” he told her shortly.

  “Why?”

  “To buy some nails for my coffin,” he said and then looked up toward the sky which was turning a deep shade of blue studded with dark gray clouds. “Still falls the rain... dark as the world of man, black as our loss... blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails upon the cross,” he quoted a passage from his book in spite of his resolve not to.

  As if on cue, a loud clap of thunder rolled across the town disturbing the muggy air and causing the people in front of the theatre to look up expectantly. The first cool breeze preceding the impending storm gusted against the window panes.

  “You are too melodramatic, Peregrin.” Angelica almost smiled as the first great drops spattered on the window ledge. Whirlwinds of dust and wayward pieces of paper swirled through the streets below. The waiting patrons of the theatre got out of their cars and made mad dashes toward the overhang in front, hoping to beat the rain. “That is a most morbid rhyme. What did you buy nails for?”

  “I find myself having many morbid thoughts at times,” he said. “I allow them to creep in whenever I feel depressed in order to experience the full impact of the emotional state of moroseness.”

  “Are you morose?” She asked him. “You have no reason to be depressed or morose. It is a senseless waste of energy.”

  “Oh, but you are quite wrong, Angelica. You are the direct cause of my depression. I sit in silent brooding and you want me to speak. I speak and you say I talk nonsense. I pour out my heart to you and you step on it.”

  Angelica made no response to his accusation. She knew it was partly true. She had forbidden him to speak to her concerning emotions and feelings and then she purposefully asked him about it. It seemed that whenever she wanted him to speak to her, he was silent. When she didn’t have time for it, he was constantly plying her with it. Frustration dogged her. They were behind schedule and it was due to his strange behavior and involvement with subjects not on the agenda. But then she had experienced just such a thing herself that very day. She had not planned on babysitting Reggie Greene. It had just happened. She was beginning to have some inkling of what Peregrin had been trying to tell her. But she still did not think that he was suitable for the search. She wondered how he had gotten the appointment with her. She had attributed his behavior to his youth. There were few around who were older than her and most were much younger.

  “I do not need your heart, Peregrin,” she told him softly. “I need your cooperation. Did you find Hannah Lipscomb? She is on the agenda. A very bitter woman filled with hatred and contempt for both Heaven and hell and Earth in between. I predict that she will make a remarkable contribution to our study. One would be hard pressed to find one worthwhile attribute in her character. You should devote your energies to contacting her. Perhaps that would take your mind off these...other pursuits. She is old and most unattractive. Perhaps she would not set off these... reactions in you.”

  “I did make contact with her,” he said. “I have already set in motion the mechanism for her interaction. She was at the hardware store. You know she has the most remarkable collection of cats. Over three dozen of them reside with her. All colors and sizes. Each one with its own unique character traits. Perhaps we should study felines.”

  “No!” Angelica frowned at him. How could he manage to provoke her so easily? “We already have a cat and a mouse. What are these frivolous pursuits? You wasted over six hours building that nice entrance for the little creature’s home on the porch and you spend endless hours just petting the cat. Have you learned anything of real value from either of them?”

  “Yes, I have,” he told her. “I have learned that they receive loving attention without complaint and they rarely make stinging comments when I talk to them. They are experts at unconditional love both in practice and concept.”

  “Your cat is quite predatory, I’ve noticed,” she countered. “I watched him ruthlessly kill and devour a dove just yesterday morning.”

  “I didn’t say that cats have no faults, Angelica,” he said. “It is their capacity to accept love that attracted my attention. We all have to eat.”

  “He doesn’t have to eat doves,” she said. “I feed him quite well. He did it out of instinct. You want me to act on instincts, I believe. Human instincts, at least some of them, are not so very different from the cat’s instincts. Would you have me act out some of those?”

  “We don’t have to eat each other, Angelica,” he told her levelly. “You and I are not cats, nor are we doves. There is a big difference.”

  “Not such a big difference. Your cat would eat your mouse if you did not prevent it.”

  “A good point,” he said and nodded. “We can cause anything we like. You are frustrated with me because I do not cause myself to be more like you. So what is the point of having me here? If you want a second opinion identical to your own, then why not just consult your image in the mirror?”

  She ignored his question and continued stubbornly to attack his affections for his pets.

  “They are simply part of the food chain. Cats eat mice. Mice eat insects. Insects eat everything. Everything eats everything else. Perhaps we should just break this whole study down to eating or not eating. Devouring or not devouring. One thing devours another.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” He raised both eyebrows. “People are not part of the food chain.”

  “No? People eat everything from fungus to elephants and vice versa.”

  “I have never heard of an elephant eating people.” He looked at her in surprise.

  “You know exactly what I mean,” she said clearly frustrated. “If you put a man, a lion and a sheep in a cage, which do you think will still be there the next day?”

  “That would depend on whether or not the man was armed and what kind of cage you put them in. The man could...” Perry began to analyze the possibilities.

  “Stop it, Peregrin!” She told him angrily. “People even eat each other.”

  “Why do you think that is so?” He asked her.

  “I believe it is mainly due to a lack of belief in God,” she told him calming a bit. “People have been the perpetrators and victims of mystical fantasies for centuries untold. While some ancient civi
lizations revered and honored cats, others, even unto this very day, regularly have them for dinner. But you would not remember ancient times when strange rituals and stranger beliefs ruled the day. You are too young. I believe that...”

  “Aha!” Perry held up one hand to stop her. “You believe that I am too young to relate to you. That I am immature and inferior to you. That my flights of fancy are beneath your elevated plane. You do not see me as one worthy of your understanding even less worthy of your attention.”

  Angelica looked at him in consternation.

  “I believe that you are worthy of my attention,” she said quietly. “But I do not believe that you are ready for my attention. You have not proven yourself ready to receive instruction from me. That is not to say that you are in any way inferior, you are just not ready. Will you give me an answer to one question without the poetic meanderings?”

  “Yes.” He slid from the chair to kneel in front of her. He took her hand in his and stared into her surprised eyes. “Ask me anything, O Great and Wise Teacher. I will prove my worthiness to you as your devoted acolyte.”

  “Why are you doing that?” She asked in a very calm voice.

  “Because I am in love, Angelica, and I like it. I like the feeling. And I believe you will like it, too. Until you experience the feeling for yourself, you will never attain your goal.”

  “You sincerely believe that!” She looked at him incredulously.

  Perry kissed her hands and smiled up at her.

  “And this love you have experienced,” she frowned “was it emotional or physical or both? And with whom did you experience it and when did this happen?” She sounded genuinely concerned.

  “You are so blind.” He stood up and resumed his seat to look out at the storm. “I will answer no more of your questions. I prefer to keep some secrets of my own.”

  “I forbid you to engage in that sort of activity with these people,” she told him with finality. “It will only cause more trouble for you than you can imagine and that, it would seem, is considerable.”