The Pandora Effect Read online

  “Oh, Lord have mercy!” She said when she found her voice and shuffled over to the phone. “We have to call 911!”

  Perry stood up quickly and went to take her by the shoulders. She looked up at him, her face was drained of color and her eyes were wide with fright.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” She asked quietly.

  “Come sit down.”

  Perry ushered her to the table and pulled out a chair. “Let me have a look at him.”

  Mary sat in shock with tears streaming down her cheeks as Perry returned to kneel beside Tyler. He checked his breathing. Nothing. Heartbeat. Nothing. He laid his head against his chest. Nothing. Tyler was most certainly dead.

  “Oh, Tyler! Tyler!” Aunt Mary wailed. “Oh, my God! Tyler’s dead!”

  She tried to get up but fell back in the chair to bury her face in her hands. Suddenly Perry was in front of her. He pulled her hands away and looked into her agonized eyes. “Be still, Mary. Tyler will be fine.”

  Mary sat perfectly still. A sense of relief washed over her.

  Perry went back for the third time and knelt beside her nephew. He placed one hand on his forehead and blew into his face.

  “Tyler?” He called his name softly. “Tyler! Wake up!”

  Tyler blinked and then coughed and then tried to scramble up. Perry pressed one hand against his chest holding him in place.

  “Don’t try to get up too fast,” he said. “You’ve suffered a bad fall.”

  Tyler’s mouth fell open as he stared into the stranger’s violet eyes.

  “Who the hell are you?” He asked frowning.

  “Oh, Tyler, such language!” Aunt Mary fussed as she rushed across the room and hovered over him. Perry got up and gave Tyler a hand up where he stood on shaky legs. Aunt Mary was on him at once, hugging him and kissing him. He automatically wrapped one arm around her diminutive shoulders and stood staring at Perry in shock. He ran his other hand through his static-filled hair and heard it crackling.

  “Tyler, Tyler. I thought you were dead,” Aunt Mary continued.

  “Me, too,” Tyler admitted as he hobbled over to the table with her help and sat down.

  Perry picked up the overturned chair and offered it to Mary. She stood hovering over Tyler, ignoring the chair. The stranger bent to peer into Tyler’s face.

  “Hello, there,” he said. “I’m Peregrin Aliger, your aunt’s new neighbor across the street.”

  “Huh?” Tyler was still dazed.

  “Oh, Tyler,” Aunt Mary said as she tried to smooth down his frazzled hair “Mr. Aliger saved your life. I thought you were dead. What would I have done?”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Tyler said again and shook his head when he looked down at the sleeve of his tee shirt. It was singed and smelled of smoke. “I even saw all those things, you know? The light and the tunnel and I heard angels singing, I think.”

  “Really?” Perry asked and raised up to look down at him curiously. “I think you were just unconscious. That was quite a shock to your system.”

  “I told you to be careful, Tyler!” Aunt Mary admonished him again.

  “Yes, you should be careful,” Perry agreed. “Electricity is a formidable force.”

  “No shit!” Tyler said as he rubbed his arm and then his shoulder. “I work for the Power Company. I should know.”

  “Yes, you should,” Aunt Mary agreed and went off to the stove to get the teakettle. “You nearly killed me with fright and you should watch your mouth. We have company.”

  “Sorry,” Tyler apologized and managed to smile up at the new neighbor. He was truly embarrassed about the incident.

  Perry went to take the kettle from Mary and set about fixing up some fresh water for tea, ushering her back to her chair and washing out their cups. She did not seem to mind that he took over her kitchen as if he were an old friend. Tyler sat rubbing his arm and watching the man curiously. He looked down at his hand and then gingerly laid the blackened spoon on the table, hoping that the man did not see it and put two and two together.

  “An expert he is,” Mary spoke to Perry about Tyler. “He works with electricity every day with millions of watts or volts or whatever they are. He’s run power to half the houses in the county at one time or another. Climbs up those power poles even in the rain. Dangerous work! And then look what happens. He pokes around in my light socket with a spoon of all things. A little old light socket nearly kills him. What do you think of that, Mr. Aliger?”

  Tyler cringed.

  “Please call me Perry.”

  The man turned a smile and his strange colored eyes on her as he placed their cups back on the table with an extra one for himself. He opened the red and gold box and took out a teabag for each of them. “We all get careless from time to time, I suppose. Usually it’s the little things that we think we know best that cause us the most trouble. Things we take for granted. Like an Olympic weight lifter straining his back lifting a laundry basket.”

  “Really?” Tyler muttered. He was becoming somehow irritated with the man’s easy manner. He was beginning to resent the fact that a perfect stranger had been needed to save his life and he did not like the way his aunt seemed to be taking to the man. “And just how many Olympic weight lifters do you know?”

  “A few, but who’s counting?” Perry asked brightly and went back to get the kettle. “Do you know I used to work for a large power company myself?”

  “Is that right?” Tyler eyed him doubtfully. The man looked as if he’d never done and honest day’s work in his life. His clothes were a picture of perfection from his collar to his shoes. Every hair was in place. Not a blemish marked his face. No scars or marks of any kind marred his perfect complexion. Tyler frowned. It was impossible to guess his age. He could have been thirty. He could have been forty. He carried himself as an older man than his looks betrayed as if he had the confidence of a mountain and, yet, he gave no signs of self importance as if he weren’t even there in the room with them. Tyler shuddered. He’d never met anyone who made him feel so totally self-conscious of his own shortcomings without saying a word. It was almost as if he expected the man to disappear in a puff of smoke at any moment. “Come to think of it, you do look like a company exec or something. Which company did you work for?” Tyler decided to be nosey.

  “Not a local one,” Perry answered vaguely as he turned off the gas and brought the kettle back to the table to fill their cups. “It was a long time ago. I’m certainly not the expert your aunt says you are. I was more of an apprentice you might say.”

  “Oh, a union man,” Tyler nodded and picked up the tea bag string to dunk it automatically. A spicy orange scent filled the air. It had an immediately soothing effect on his frayed nerves and he realized he was being rude to a man who had just saved his life. He excused his behavior by attributing it to the after effects of the NDE, near death experience, as Readers Digest called them. “You’re a Yankee then?”

  “A Yankee?” Perry asked as he returned and sat down next to Mary. “Oh! A Yankee.” He helped Mary unwrap her bag from the little cellophane cover. “Not a Yankee, no. More southern. Much more southern. Not exactly what you would call a Rebel, but not a Yankee.”

  “You don’t sound like a southerner. In fact, you don’t sound like anything. I mean, you don’t have any kind of accent. You sound like a news anchorman.”

  “Don’t be rude, Tyler,” Mary chided her nephew. “Mind your manners. We mustn’t insult our new neighbor. He has a fine, pleasant voice. Just fine.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. McDaniels,” Perry said. Of course, Tyler noticed that he had a perfect set of teeth just like his own. Offhandedly, he wondered who had paid for Aliger’s smile. Perhaps he had an Aunt Mary somewhere.

  “You should call me Aunt Mary. Everyone does.”

  She patted the man’s hand as he removed the tea bag from her cup for her and picked up a single sugar cube with a tiny pair of silver sugar tongs and dropped it into her tea. Tyler couldn’t believe it, he’d never noticed the
tongs before in his aunt's tea service. He'd always used his fingers to pick up the little squares. It's a wonder his aunt hadn't cut them off for him. Mary picked up Tyler’s teaspoon and stirred her tea. What was the world coming to? Aunt Mary was drinking sugar in her tea now! It almost seemed as if this stranger was flirting with his great aunt and, furthermore, doing a damned fine job of it. Mary smiled at him and looked down at the table demurely. He thought he actually saw a blush on her wizened cheeks.

  “Ahem,” Tyler cleared his throat and blinked “the Junk shop you say? You bought the junk shop? Why on Earth would you buy that old place?”

  “Where else but Earth would one find such a charming old place?” Perry responded. “Of course, I prefer to call it a trinket shop. Junk is such an ugly term, don’t you think? Trinket sounds much more pleasant. In fact, it feels good just to say it. Try it... trinket. Like chocolate or cherry or chamomile. Not like junk. Plunk. Thunk. Drunk. Very unpleasant word. But then there’s skunk. Now there’s a misnomer for you. Such a beautiful, sleek, black and white mammalian concoction. Very formal. Nimis accuratus. Elagans at odoratus. That would have been a better name for him. Elegant, but odorous. But then those are not English words. Everything sounds better in Latin. A lovely language. Too bad no one uses it anymore.”

  Tyler stared at him. The feeling of detachment had returned. He could not believe he was sitting at Aunt Mary’s table having this conversation.

  “How very true!” Mary agreed and leaned her chin on one hand to gaze at the man. “You aren’t a clergyman, are you? One of those modern fellows who don’t wear the collar?”

  “Oh, no,” Perry shook his head solemnly. “I’m a student of sorts, but actually I’m an entrepreneur.”

  “First Latin and now French? What next, Greek? Chinese?” Tyler snorted then laughed at his own joke. “I’m afraid you won’t find many language scholars around Magnolia Springs to practice with Mr. Aliger. Most of the local boys are limited to three syllables or less and then, again, some of them communicate entirely in grunts and nods. Primitive types, you might say... Aliger, is that a foreign name, then?”

  “There you go again!” His aunt scolded him. “Perry isn’t a foreigner.” She returned her attention to the man. “Are you, Sweetie? You can’t be.”

  “Oh, no more foreign that either of you,” his said and smiled his enigmatic smile. “None of us are American Indians, are we? But then, of course, that is another misnomer. Even the so-called Indians on this continent, with the exception of the Anasazi, were all from Siberia, I believe.”

  “Except for the Anasazi?” Tyler repeated. “Weren’t those like the Pueblos or the Navajos?”

  “Of course they were,” Perry nodded and stood up suddenly. “I really have to be going, Aunt Mary. I’ve taken enough of your time and hospitality for one morning.” He took one of her hands in his and kissed it lightly on the back. To Tyler’s consternation, she blushed again!

  “Oh, you shouldn’t run off so soon!” She said getting out of her chair.

  “I must get back to see that my wife doesn’t exhaust herself. She’s like that, you know?” he said.

  The man turned to Tyler and stuck out his hand. Tyler got to his feet and reached to take it, locking eyes with him. A small electric current much like a shock from carpet on a dry day coursed up his arm reminding him of the shock he had just suffered. Perry did not flinch, but Tyler drew back his hand to look at it. Must still have some loose electrons in his system, he thought.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. McDaniels,” Perry told him. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon. Of course you must meet my wife and we would like to invite you and your wife and, of course, your lovely aunt here, to attend our formal grand opening next week.”

  “Of course,” Tyler nodded. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Good. Excellent,” Perry said as he smiled and nodded to Aunt Mary again. “Enjoy your tea. I believe you will find that the flavor stands alone. I can see my way out.”

  Tyler followed him to the front door anyway and locked and bolted the door after him. He stood peeking out the curtains on the glass door as the man crossed the street in front of the house. Aliger stopped on the sidewalk in front of the junk shop and turned to look back pointedly at him. He raised one hand in a mock salute and Tyler jumped back from the window in embarrassment. Tyler felt as if the stranger was laughing at him for some reason. He ran his fingers through his hair, which still stood on end and looked down at his arm where the redness was fading. Electricity is a formidable force. Yes, it certainly is. He should know. He’d been shocked before, but never like that. Tyler turned back toward the kitchen where he could hear his aunt singing to herself. He’d have to call Joe Ben Widner. Joe would re-wire that socket and take a look at the rest of the house for Aunt Mary. He, Tyler, would not be touching it again.

  Chapter Two:.

  The bank clerk in charge of new accounts sat watching the blonde gentleman across the desk from her as he signed the signature card for his new checking account. He gripped the pen, an old-fashioned fountain pen with a broad tip, as if it were a priceless heirloom, carefully forming each letter as if he were painting his name rather than just signing his signature. She had never seen anyone write like that. In fact, in all her years of experience at the bank, she had never seen a more beautiful script. It was more like calligraphy than handwriting and she would know. Calligraphy was a hobby of hers and she made extra money filling out award certificates, diplomas and making personalized signage and greeting cards for everyone in the county. He finished writing his name and sat staring at it for a few seconds as if checking it for spelling. When he was finally satisfied with it, he raised his unusual eyes to smile at her and slid it across the desk. Peregrin Caelum Aliger. She picked it up and blew on the still-wet ink while watching him over the card. He seemed almost apprehensive as if he were awaiting her approval.

  “That’s a very nice pen,” she told him, smiling and showing off her deep dimples. “Looks expensive.”

  “I’m sure it was.” He nodded and replaced the cap on the pen before slipping it inside his coat pocket. He returned her smile with a look of relief.

  “And such lovely handwriting.” She continued to inspect the name on the card. “And such an unusual name, too.” She blinked at him coquettishly. “What is that?”

  “What? What is what?” He frowned. “Did I do it wrong?”

  “No!” She was puzzled by his alarm. “You did it perfectly. I simply meant your name, sir that’s all. It’s well... unusual. I’ve never seen it before. Is it Perrygreene? I think I might have seen it in a book once about a hairy-toed little fellow who slayed a dragon or something in Middle Earth. What was that? I can’t remember now. Anyway I’ve seen a lot of names, you know? But then of course, Magnolia Springs is just a little bitty town. Everyone around here has names like Joe Bob, James, John. You know?”

  Perry seemed to relax a bit before nodding gravely.

  “Take your middle name, for example.” She tapped the card with one long, red fingernail bearing a tiny gold rose in the middle. “I might call that Kaylum or Kay-elum and both might be entirely wrong.”

  “No one is ever entirely wrong,” he said. “Of the two pronunciations Kaylum is closest, but the second would be more accurate if you said it a bit faster. It depends on whether you want to be Ecclesiastical or Classical.”

  “Whaaat?” She said softly, her eyes wide with fascination. “You mean like Kaleyum?”

  “Not exactly.” Perry shook his head. Everyone in the bank had stopped working and had gathered behind the tall teller’s counter to watch them. He glanced up at them. “It’s unimportant. You can just call me... Perry.” The clerk was unaware that they had drawn an audience.

  “Yeah, I know.” She wrinkled her pudgy nose. “We all talk so slow around here and we’ve got awful accents. I bet it gets on your nerves, huh? I’ll bet you come from someplace real exotic like Paris or Rome or something, do
n’t you?”

  “Not exactly,” Perry said again. “I come from... another state.”

  “You mean to tell me you’re American?” She sat up wide-eyed in disbelief.

  “Why would that surprise you, Miss Martin?” he asked.

  “Well, because you seem so... cosmopolitan. I don’t know,” she said somewhat ruffled.

  “Cosmos poli...” He glanced at the other women again and they giggled and pretended to be working. “Oh! Cosmopolitan. Exactly what does that mean? But thank you for the compliment, I think.”

  “Why, you certainly are welcome, Mr. Aliger.” She smiled and then blushed. His eyes were absolutely magnetic and she felt as if he were looking through her. She hurriedly picked up the little stack of papers in front of her and straightened them.

  “I have a question,” he said after watching her for a moment. The sound of his voice seemed to startle her. She froze in mid-action to stare at him. She almost felt as if he could read her mind which would not be good at all since she had been thinking that she wouldn’t mind having dinner with him or, better yet, a late supper or even better, breakfast. She held her breath wondering if he was going to ask her out. “What is the significance of the rose on your fingernail?”

  She let out the breath she was holding and smiled at him. “Mr. Aliger, are you trying to pick me up?”

  “Pick you up?” he asked apparently taken aback. “I should think that would be most disagreeable.”

  “And you are absolutely correct,” she told him matter-of-factly. “I would be much more inclined to simply answer yes or no if you were to ask me for a date. We are both grownups. We don’t have to play teenager games.”

  He stared at her for what seemed a long interval. He failed to see what this had to do with his question about the rose.