Pandora's Trials

Awake

The first thing I knew was light. The sun shone through the slatted shutters of a window right into my eyes. I stretched, my muscles popping and tensing.

"Pandora? Are you awake?" a man's voice asked. I turned my head to see a stout old man racing into the room. He pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down.

"Who are you? What is this place?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"I'm your papa, silly. We're at home," he answered.

I scanned the small room. I was in a cottage, there had to be no more than three rooms. A small stove sat by the opposite wall from my bed, and a pile of firewood lay right beside it. The walls were mostly bare, save for a few shelves with some jars of preserves sitting in neat rows.

I noticed a mirror a few feet away hanging from the wall. I got up, much to my papa's dismay.

"Pandora, sit back down! You still have to adjust-"

"Is that me?" I said.

I had warm bronze skin that glowed gold in the morning sunlight. I was tall and slender; I had to have towered over Papa by three or four inches. My face was thin, I had the faintest freckles across my nose and cheeks, and my eyes were a fierce blue. My hair was thick and curly. It held its shape from the pressure of my head against the pillows of the bed, so I fluffed it out some. That was better.

"Do you really not remember anything?" Papa asked. I turned back to him, confused.

"No, did something happen?" I began checking over myself to see if there was something wrong. My body seemed fine, so what was wrong with my mind?

Papa sighed, "You were sick, dear. Very sick. But now you're better. I know you're confused, but recovering from this illness with amnesia is a better outcome than most who recover. In fact, most don't," Papa explained.

I nodded. Papa walked to the end of my bed and opened a trunk that I hadn't noticed. He pulled out a pair of pants, a plain blue t-shirt, and some socks. He left the room, and I got dressed. The light pink nightgown I had been wearing was comfortable, but I felt much more awake in my new work clothes. I looked by the chest, and a pair of boots sat waiting for my feet. I slipped them on, then went to find Papa.

Outside the cottage, the sun shone hot and bright. I almost immediately began sweating; it must've been summer. The cottage was surrounded by a thick forest of pine and oak trees, that looked like an inviting shelter from the sun's heat.

Papa was bent over a tomato plant, his blue jeans stained brown at the knees and his dark face shaded by a large straw hat. I snatched a basket sitting by the front door, and set off to help him work the land.

I didn't remember seeing a garden before, but I liked it. The smell of the dirt and plants hung heavy in the air, and with every breath, I felt myself becoming more and more relaxed. The little worms and bugs that squirmed in the earth were so interesting, so small. I thought it was interesting how such small things could be alive.

Papa taught me all about each of the plants and what they like and don't like. I didn't think plants would be so picky. But, Papa said that if you give the plants what they want, they give you what you want in return. The strawberries in the garden, Papa said, were fat and impossibly sweet because he created a special fertilizer for the plants.

Picking those perfect strawberries with Papa, I felt strange. It was like I could remember a time when that happened before, but only the feeling of it. Like a dream that you know you had, but all you can remember is how you felt. Papa must've seen that I looked confused.

"Are you okay, Pandora?"

"Yeah," I said, tossing another strawberry into the basket sitting between us, "It's just, I feel like we've done this before, but all I recognize is the feeling."

"Happiness?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, is that what this feeling is? That everything is good?" I hadn't really felt anything up until now, and even though it couldn't have been more than a few hours, I already felt at home. Papa chuckled.

"Yes, that's happiness. It's a great emotion, really. It comes to some people easily, but for others, it's a little harder to find," he explained. I thought about his words. If this is the world, how could anyone not be happy? I asked him this exact thought.

"Well, not everywhere is like it is here," he said, "Some places have problems, and almost all people have problems, and those problems can make them sad. I think that while your circumstances do have an effect on your life, how you deal with those circumstances can truly change whether you're happy or not."

"So, actions define everything?"

"Actions and words, yes. That's the problem with people, Pandora. They forget these things sometimes. Don't ever forget this, and you will find happiness wherever you go." Papa's wisdom made a lot of sense to me, and I promised myself that I wouldn't forget it. I looked back down to the strawberries and continued picking the ripest ones.

"Are you happy, Papa?" I asked. Even though I didn't look up at him, I could feel his gaze shift back to me.

"I... suppose I am happy right now," he answered.

"But, have you been happy overall? You said that things and places in life can make people sad. Did you ever live somewhere else before you lived here?"

Papa sighed, "Yes, I did live somewhere else a long time ago. Some things happened and I moved out here to get away from things." He grabbed his basket of strawberries and stood up. "But, that's all in the past. It's good to look towards the future in these kinds of scenarios; it's damaging to be stuck in the past."

I nodded and followed him inside, but his stride seemed less peppy. I supposed I had struck a nerve in him, and I felt a new emotion. An uncomfortable one that left my face feeling hot and my stomach in knots. I would have to ask Papa about this feeling, but maybe another time.

Inside, Papa showed me how to cook a healthy dinner with chicken, fresh vegetables, and more strawberries for dessert. I enjoyed cooking a lot; it fascinated me how individual components could come together and create such great things.

The sun was almost completely under the horizon by the time Papa and I had cleaned up dinner and Papa went around the small cottage lighting kerosene lanterns that hung from metal fixtures and the large wooden beams that held up the roof. The soft yellow light combined with the sound of crickets and frogs outside lulled me into comfortable drowsiness. Papa had shown me the small bathroom at the back of the cottage earlier that day when he was showing me the rain collection system that fed water into the pipes of the cottage. Papa said he was an engineer and built many interesting contraptions before he retired. The shower only had a small amount of heated water, so I washed up quickly and dressed for bed.

As I lay in bed that night, my mind began to drift. I wondered how I got here, to this cabin. What had happened before today? The questions became so overwhelming, I was tempted to ask Papa. However, a little voice in my head told me that maybe it would be better if these questions were left unanswered. I had already asked Papa about the past once, and it seemed to really upset him. I didn't want to anger him. So, I thought about the future and began to plan some new meals in my head that Papa and I could make together as I fell asleep.