The Pandora Effect

by Olivia Darnell

  “I have to leave, Angelica,” he said. “Are you sure you want to go through with this dinner tonight?”

  “Oh, yes.” She smiled. “Once I have made up my mind to study a thing, I study it thoroughly.”

  Perry sat on the bottom step and looked down at the bottle of Brunello di Montalcino. It was a very rare and costly Italian variety of Tuscan red and he knew that if he didn’t drink it, no one in this little town would ever drink it either. It seemed a shame to let it sit on the shelf, hopelessly waiting for someone to appreciate it. He turned it up and appreciated it right from the bottle. He was beginning understand the allure that alcohol held for these people. It made your tummy all warm and your mind all fuzzy. Everything sharp and painful would fade into a mellow oblivion... at least for a while. Wine was not an emotional state, but it sure felt like one. He added wine to his mental list of pleasant sensations and took it off his list of foods and beverages. The little mouse nuzzled his leg and looked up at him, twitching its whiskers expectantly. Perry reached down one hand to the mouse and it climbed into his palm. He picked it up and held it gently against his stomach. It rolled over on its back and offered its soft underbelly for a scratching. Perry obliged the little guy and it stretched its tiny head back, closing its eyes. Perry looked around the brightly lit street and then glanced over toward the pecan grove. Someone was there under the trees very near to where he had originally buried the chest full of Pandora boxes. He set the mouse on the steps and got up, taking his wine with him and strolled out to see what his other visitor was doing.

  Reggie Greene sat cross-legged on the leafy carpet next to the muddy hole left by Billy Johnson’s disinterment of the box. He looked up at Perry with a small frown marring his freckled face.

  “Watcha’ doin’?” He asked the boy, sitting next to him on the ground.

  “Nuttin’.” Reggie’s frown was replaced with a sun grin as a strip of sunlight fell across his big, brown eyes.

  “Nothing?” Perry smiled at him. “Looks like you might be doing something.”

  “I was just kinda wonderin’...” Reggie looked down at the hole in the ground. His black and yellow roller blades lay beside him. “I was wonderin’ what happened to ’em.”

  “To the little boxes?” Perry was surprised that Reggie had known what had been in the hole.

  “Yeah. I know they was here, but now they’re gone.” Reggie looked at him with deep concern written on his face. “But not the boxes. I mean the wishes inside ’em. I was wonderin’ what happened to the wishes.”

  “They’re gone,” Perry told him. “How’d you know they were here?”

  “I could feel ’em.” Reggie held out one hand over the empty pit.

  “Well, they’re gone now. That’s what they were supposed to do, go away.” Perry was disturbed by Reggie’s words. He had remarkable perception. Were there many others like him? Had his short association with the boy altered him somehow? Angelica had told him it could be dangerous to teach him the trick with the koosh ball.

  “Do you still have your ball?” Perry asked him and turned up the bottle. It was losing its chill.

  Reggie dug in his pocket, pulled out the ball and held it out. It danced lightly on his hand and blue sparks circled about it like the electrons in an atom. Perry was taken aback by the progress the boy had made. It seemed to take no effort at all. Reggie put the ball away.

  “It’s real easy now,” Reggie told him. “But I don’t show nobody anymore. It scares ’em. Things don’t just go away, Mr. Algier. You took them away and now they got you.”

  “What do you mean?” Perry asked and frowned at him.

  “I mean that now you are all confused and you’re drinkin’ like my uncle Joe. He’s a wino. You ain’t turned into a wino, have ya?” The boy asked in all seriousness. “You don’t seem nuthin’ like my uncle Joe.”

  “You’re right,” Perry told him. “I’m nothing like your uncle Joe. I’m not a wino, but I have been drinking... a little.”

  “Winos drink in the mornin’,” Reggie eyed him suspiciously. “My dad says only winos drink in the mornin’.”

  “So they do,” Perry agreed and turned up the bottle. He didn’t really want to drink in front of the boy, but he seemed unable to control himself. “But I won’t be drinking much longer. What do you think I really am, Reggie?”

  “I think you might be a Angel or maybe a fairy or somethin’,” Reggie told him truthfully. “I saw you in Heaven when I was dead, member?”

  “Yeah, I ‘member’,” Perry’s frown deepened. “But that wasn’t Heaven, Reggie. It was just a dream.”

  Perry stood up. He couldn’t stay there and risk doing more damage to the boy’s psyche. He’d already done enough.

  “See?” He said brushing the dirt from his jeans. “I’m no Angel. Angels don’t get dirty.”

  Reggie grinned up at him. “I guess not.”

  Perry started back toward the building. Reggie jumped up, grabbed his skates and ran after him.

  “Hey!” He said catching up with him. “I just wanted you to know I ain’t skeered no more. I can fly like a eagle on my skates and I’m gettin’ a new bike for my birthday. I done picked it out down at Sears. It's gold and black and red like the windows in your store with ram horn handlebars. Least that's what my daddy calls 'em.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “And somethin’ else,” Reggie said and stopped.

  Perry looked down at him waiting before continuing on.

  “You don’t have to worry about any more fairies dyin’. I really, really b’lieve in ’em now.”

  Perry nodded. Reggie turned and ran off toward town.

  Perry walked back to the Mercedes and unlocked the door. He was afraid of what would happen next. He still wanted to keep the dinner date with Angelica, but he was truly afraid of Falco Atrox and he had never been afraid of anyone before.

  Chapter Thirty:.

  Tyler pulled up a white wicker chair next to Julia’s chaise lounge where Louis was situated with a radio and a stack of magazines. Julia handed him a glass of iced tea and he wondered if it was tea from the Aliger’s gift shop. His throat felt parched and his mouth was dry. The tea was wonderful. Mike sat in the porch swing with both feet planted firmly on the floor, his elbows leaned on his knees.

  Julia fussed over Louis’ pillows and he leaned his head back looking up at her with a perplexed frown. That he was glad to be home was obvious, but he was uncomfortable with her constant fluttering about over him. He was afraid she would wear herself out. Tyler picked up on Louis’ feelings and looked up at Julia.

  “Why don’t you go get some rest or do something for yourself, Mrs. Parks?” Tyler asked her. “Me ’n Mike can take care of him for a while.”

  “Would you?” Her face brightened. “I really need to go into town and pick up some groceries. If you fellows wouldn’t mind...”

  “Go on ahead. I got a cattle prod in my truck if he gets out of line,” Mike told her. “You need to get him some of that yogurt and cottage cheese.”

  “Yeah, and some Jello and applesauce,” Tyler added grinning at Louis.

  “And don’t forget the prunes,” Mike nodded seriously. “He’d need some o’ them.”

  “Julia! Don’t leave me with them!” Louis called after her as she disappeared into the house.

  “Yeah, Julia, wait,” Tyler said in a low voice. “You forgot to tell us where the enema bag is.”

  “Get away from me!” Louis kicked at him.

  Julia stuck her head back out before leaving them.

  “Louis, how about some wonton soup for supper?” She asked. “I can pick some up on the way back. It would be good for you.”

  “Whatever you want, Baby,” he told her and made a face at Tyler. "But you know I like the hot and sour soup..." he added, but she was gone. "Damn."

  They sat in silence for a while to make sure she was gone this time.

  “She’s sure lookin’ well these days, Louis,” Tyler co
mmented.

  “Yeah,” Louis nodded. “She is. It kinda scares me. I’m gonna take her to the doctor as soon as I’m up and about. I want to find out if it’s some kind of remission or something.”

  “Yeah. Stuff like that happens sometimes,” Tyler agreed. “Sometimes God has plans we don’t know about. You know my aunt Mary has made some improvements too. Hell, she’s gettin’ around better than me these days. I’ve been dreadin’ the day when I went to check on her and found her... you know. But last week... well we got some real good news from her doctor. Seems he’s amazed about it, too.”

  “That is good.” Louis took the pillow from behind his head and dropped in on the porch. “Take me for instance. Right now I feel like gettin’ up, grabbin’ a beer and mowin’ the yard or somethin’. But Julia, now, there’s somethin’ else there. I bet your aunt didn’t attribute her improvements to Perry Aliger, did she? Julia is tryin’ to make me believe that she’s completely well now because she got one of those little boxes from him. Just like Sam Morris, huh? She even brought one to the hospital for me to put my heart attack in. Now that worries me.”

  “Yeah?” Mike looked at Tyler. “Did she say she put her... well, did she tell you what she wrote in her box?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Louis shifted uncomfortably in the lounger. “She put her cancer in there of course.” He felt like he was betraying Julia’s trust in him.

  “Stomach cancer, right?” Mike asked and stood up suddenly to look down at him. “That’s what Sam said he had. Stomach cancer and Tyler, you saw him. Did he look sick?”

  Tyler didn’t want to tell Louis everything. He hadn’t told him about the pains Sam was experiencing and about him vomiting blood everywhere. He closed his eyes and saw the red stains on Sam’s carpet again.

  “Well, yeah. He was sick,” Tyler admitted. “But he was drinkin’ whiskey straight out of the bottle. That’s enough to make anybody sick.”

  Mike went to sit on Louis’ back steps and stared off across the yard. He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t want to think bad of Mr. Aliger. Hadn’t he been the one to set him up with guy from San Antonio? And another fellow from New York was supposed to call him Monday.

  “Louis?” Tyler sat back in the chair and crossed his legs, taking another swallow of the tea. “Paula Anne bought one of those boxes from you. Remember? I think she was your first customer.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Louis nodded. “What did she do with hers?”

  Tyler shook his head. He didn’t know.

  “Julia told me that Aliger came by here Friday. He brought her one of the boxes. Told her that he’d forgot to give it to me. Anyway, he bought it for her, gave it to her and then took it back when he left. Said he was going to keep it for her. That’s weird, ain’t it?”

  “I haven’t seen the one Paula Anne bought,” Tyler’s mind drifted. He wanted to find that box. He needed to know if she’d written something in it and what she had written. “Sam said there was a bunch of them in the chest Billy brought to his house.”

  “How many?” Louis asked him sitting up straighter.

  “Didn’t say,” Tyler frowned. “How many did you sell?”

  “Nine. He gave me nine not countin’ Julia’s and I sold nine. I bought the last one myself.”

  Mike turned around to look at him suddenly. “Who’d you sell ’em to?” He asked urgently.

  “Oh, God, Mike!” Louis groaned and put his hand to his forehead. “I got a headache. I don’t know if I can remember. There were lots of people. Let’s see... Paula Anne and Aunt Mary. That’s two. Mine was three. Bobby Greene bought one for Joanne and one for his boy. That’s five. Cheryl Martin bought one. That’s six. Oh yeah! Mildred Morris bought one. That’s seven. And then... who else? Paula Anne... Sam Morris! He bought one, too.”

  “That makes eight,” Tyler told him. “One more.”

  “I can’t remember.” Louis squeezed his eyes shut. “You were there. Did you sell any?”

  “Yeah. Wait.” Tyler shook his head and then snapped his fingers. “Yeah, yeah. Maureen Fitzgerald! Now ain’t that strange? We didn’t sell any outside the circle.”

  “What circle?” Louis asked him suspiciously.

  “You know all of us that have been involved with the Aligers.” Tyler frowned. “It’s like only a certain group of people... like all connected, you know?”

  “So you still got yours,” Mike said thoughtfully. “And Sam’s still got the one Aunt Mary bought. There could have been eight in the chest Billy dug up.”

  “Yeah,” Tyler agreed subtracting in his head.

  “So he sells these boxes or gives them away and then gets them back, puts them in a chest and buries them in his backyard,” Louis said slowly. “It don’t make sense.” He looked around. “I wonder where that damned box is?”

  “What’d you write in it, Louis?” Mike asked suddenly and looked at Louis bug-eyed.

  “I wrote that I wished the Aligers would go back where they came from,” Louis looked at them and smiled. “Julia wanted me to write about my heart attack.”

  “We need to find that box,” Tyler said, shaking his head.

  “Yeah and it don’t make sense for a man like Mr. Aliger who looks to me like he would have one damned fancy set of degrees from somewhere like Havard or Yale would be selling snake oil stories to a bunch of local yokles. But I say he knows somethin’ we don’t. I don’t think he’s a crazy like some of them people from New York or Los Angeles who believe the UFO’s are coming to save the world. I think it’s somethin’ else.”

  “Like what? A member of a cult?” Tyler tried to keep up with the conversation but he was also consumed with the desire to get home and find out what Paula Anne had done with her box. “What would he know? Is he a member of some secret society, Mike?”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Mike shook his head and then turned his attention to Louis. “I was tellin’ Tyler about a book I read that belonged to Carla. It was ’bout some aliens who were collecting pieces of people. I think Perry Aliger is collectin’ things.”

  “Oh, Mike,” Tyler groaned. It was one thing for Mike to tell him stuff like that, but he didn’t like him telling Louis Parks.

  “Well, look at Julia!” Mike glared at him. “And look at you and Sam and Billy and Reggie and Chris and Louis, here! And Tyler... what about Paula Anne? What in blue blazes would she put in a box like that? You got to know something. You gotta have an idea!”

  “And what about Maureen Fitzgerald?” Louis added.

  Tyler felt sorry for Louis. It certainly wasn’t doing him any good to hear all this in his condition. Julia would shoot them if she knew.

  “Lots of guys fool around on their wives, Louis,” Tyler said sympathetically. “She just got tired of Sam’s wishy-washy attitude. A guy like Aliger could probably have...”

  “Tyler!” Mike stopped him. “That’s just what I’m talkin’ about! Why would Perry Aliger fool around with Maureen Fitzgerald. Look at his wife! It don’t make sense. First thing you know, Maureen will end up pregnant and it won’t be Sam’s kid.”

  “Shut up, Mike!” Tyler turned angrily on his friend and Mike looked at him in shock. It was Paula Anne who was pregnant not Maureen Fitzgerald!

  “Well...” Mike muttered, but fell silent.

  Louis laughed nervously.

  “What do you want me to do, Mike?” Louis asked after a moment. “Arrest him for fooling around on his wife? I’ve been thinking back to when he had his wreck. Something real funny was goin’ on then. But what has he really done wrong? Told stories about tea and blue willow dishes. Give me a bunch of pretty little boxes to make money for my project? Made Tyler’s aunt blush? Convinced Julia that she’s well? Beat the shit out of Billy Johnson who deserved it? Been nice to everybody in town? Made Sam Morris pea-green with envy? Confusin’ the hell out of me? None of that is illegal Mike. And what about Chris Parker and his stutterin'?"

  “No, I don’t expect you to arrest anybody,” Mike said glumly
. “Let’s just keep our eyes peeled. We got to be on the look out. That’s all.”

  “Oh.” Louis looked at Tyler and smiled. Tyler looked genuinely upset. Louis felt sorry for him and his battered ribs and still-swollen lip. “Tyler, you don’t look so good. Maybe you ought to go on down to the clinic and get yourself checked. You know you probably got some broken ribs. That could be serious. You and Mike are supposed to be babysittin’ me, not scarin’ the shit out of me. Don’t be puttin’ too much store by Mike, here. I know he means well, but I can assure you that Perry Aliger is not some alien or some serial killer stalking Magnolia Springs. I checked him out a long time ago.”

  Tyler just stared at Louis. How could he tell them what was on his mind? And what would they do if they knew what he was thinking?

  “Paula Anne is pregnant,” he said suddenly and felt strangely relieved. It wasn’t like it was a secret. Paula Anne was probably at home right now calling everybody in the phone book to tell them the good news.

  Louis blinked at him and Mike got up from his perch on the steps and went to sit in the swing again.

  “Well,” Louis stuck out his hand. “Congratulations. You are the baby’s father, I presume?” His smile faded when he saw the look on Tyler’s face.

  “Tyler!” Louis pushed himself out of the lounger and bent to look at Tyler closely. “What the hell are you thinking, Tyler? Tyler, talk to me!”

  Mike cleared his throat loudly. This development was news to him. He was hurt that Tyler had not told him first. If he’d known that Paula Anne was pregnant, he wouldn’t have told him about that alien stuff. He felt doubly bad.

  “Mike?” Louis looked the little man who sat swinging slightly in the squeaky swing. “You put all this bullshit in his head!”

  “I didn’t know she was pregnant,” Mike said plaintively. “I just read that stuff in a book, that’s all. I didn’t know.”

  “Tyler, just say what’s on your mind.” Louis turned back to Tyler who sat staring at his empty glass as he tapped his fingers on it. “We’re all friends here. What’s said here, stays here. Ain’t that right, Mike!” He turned to stare at Mike.