“Outside the Box”

The sound of the busy streets assaulted her eardrums and throbbed through her body. The trench coat she wore shielded her from the bitter cold, but her cheeks stung and her nose was numb. She pulled her fedora tighter around her ears and bent her head to the wind. Fog had settled around her ankles, rising up from the streets and creating black holes into which the passer-bys vanished.

“I hate this city,” she muttered under her breath, pulling her leather gloves tighter on her fingers. The absence of her hands on her hat caused it to shift in the wind, and a rebel strand of auburn hair to cascade from its arrangement falling across her flushed cheek. Absently, she tucked the strand back in its place and pulled her hat back to down around her ears.

A cat moved from behind a garbage can, its ribs showing through its matted, muddy, disheveled fur. It was missing patches around its ears and along its back. It tilted its head up and stared at her, paused as if to come closer, then changed its mind and vanished. With a sigh, she momentarily envied the cat. She knew how it felt to trust someone, only to change your mind halfway through.

Finally content with her barrier to the cold, she stepped out of the alley and moved like a cat along the grayscale street. Paint-chipped walls rose up into the cloudy, dreary sky as Evie stood before the youth hostel. A heavy wood door protected the office from the elements, but as she stepped within the building she realized that the rest of the building did not. It was drafty and freezing, seemingly cooler in the building then it was outside. A decrepit old woman sat behind the desk, staring at the ceiling.

Evie slowly approached the woman, eyes wide. She silently prayed that she was not dead. Finally, the woman shifted her eyes to her and frowned. She took in Evie’s trench, her blue tweed business suit, and her fedora. “Can I help you, dearie?” she asked in a withered, hoarse, cracked voice.

“No,” Evie replied, looking around the room. Chunks of drywall hung from wet walls, and exposed pipes dripped from the ceiling. “I have the wrong address.” She turned and left the building, moving across the litter ridden street.

She stood out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood, her high quality trench sparkling like a diamond in the rough. The alleyway across the street was shrouded in mist and fog, hidden in darkness. It provided the perfect spot for her to disappear and watch from afar.

It had not been too long when she saw a light switch off upstairs in the building, and within minutes a young woman emerged from the front door. She wore a scarf wrapped around her hair, concealing it. She was tall and willowy, with a long scarf-like skirt and a heavy coat. A shawl wrapped her neck, disguising her face and shadowing her features. But the tell-tale bag was slung over her shoulder and on her hands she wore pale blue gloves.

Evie pulled her collar up and stepped onto the street. She trailed the young woman, lingering in alleyways to prevent detection. The young woman strolled the streets, her chin tucked down, concealing her face. When she finally emerged from the dirty, grimy streets of the downtown hovels, she still did not lift her eyes. But Evie was less noticeable in the area of the city into which they had stumbled.

She turned down one street and another, staying close to the walls and hiding her face from passers-bys. Evie couldn’t help but notice that she carried herself easily, almost as if she was light as a feather. No one even glanced in her direction; she was literally invisible to anyone who walked by. Her head remained bowed, no matter what was happening, as if there were a line painted on the ground that only she could see.

Finally, she stopped before a tall office building, and lifted her eyes. For the first time since she had left the hostel, she lifted her eyes from the ground and cast them heavenward. Evie stopped where she was and watched her. She stepped to the side of the front door and leaned against the wall. Once again, her eyes dropped to the ground.

As she watched, the young woman slid her blue glove from her left hand, and stared at the flesh. Beside her, the glass door from the lobby of the office building opened and a man in a business suit stepped out, securing his hat around his ears. He did not even glance to her, seeming to not even notice the young woman to his right. He turned to his left, and Evie watched as she lifted her hand.

She brushed it along his spine, and Evie watched as the man realized that someone had been there. He turned slowly to see her, and before Evie’s eyes the man aged fifty years. He seemed startled at first, and as recognition emerged on his face, so did comprehension.

His voice traveled to Evie’s ears as he said, “Pandora.” It cracked halfway through the word, becoming wizened and throaty. “How did you find me?” he asked, falling to his knees before her.

She spoke, her voice haunting in Evie’s ears, “All evil will be revealed in time.” Pulling her glove back on, she stepped away from him. He watched her from where he kneeled, recoiling from her. She turned and walked down the street, eyes down once more.

She tossed her hat on the queen-sized bed in the middle of the hotel room. Turning toward the window, she looked out at the foggy, gray street. Since she knew where Pandora was, all she had to do was get her answers. But first she felt she had to do some research.

Turning from the window, Evie found herself facing a mirror on the wall above her low dresser. The woman in the reflection was faintly tanned, in contrast to the socially acceptable pale skin. Her auburn hair was styled around her face in what the salon girls were calling “the Garbo”, after the actress. Evie did not really watch a lot of the silver screen, but Alison had said that this was the style, so she had done it.

Most of the time her long auburn hair was tied back out of her face and tucked under a black hat. Of course, most of the time she wore tight black pants, black crocodile skin boots, and white shirt with a crocodile skin jacket, so the skirt she wore was a strange difference.

Even after the long train ride, and the taxi trip to the hotel she did not know what she was doing here. She had accepted the job of locating this young woman before she knew the specifics of her. A young woman of Greek origin; with long dark hair, dark eyes and olive skin. She wore sky blue gloves and carried with her a black velvet bag which contained a box of mythical foundation. She seemed ageless, immortal, to anyone who had ever reported her to any authorities. But most of the past was shrouded in mystery. She was unnoticeable, no one recalled what she looked like, or even seeing her. She vanished into the background, fading as quickly as fire when it ran out of air. She was snuffed from memory like a candle under water.

For months, Evie’s employer had been in search of this legend, this myth. She had been hired only recently, having had the reputation of being able to find anyone, anything. But this was one assignment that Evie Quinn had not felt prepared to take on. She felt uncertain about the intentions of her employer, and what was worse, uncertain about her own feelings about the situation.

Frowning, Evie still stared into the mirror, taking in the pencil skirt and tweed jacket that accentuated her slender waist and long legs. She wore black pumps to match the skirt, and from beneath the blue tweed peeked her ivory blouse. Lips were painted scarlet, cheeks were flushed pink, and blue eyes sparkled from beneath heavy lashes. She reached up and began to unbutton her jacket.

Her satchel held more of these types of clothes, clothes she rarely wore. Her life was centered around adventures and escapades, not parties and social gatherings. It had been months since she had been in a city of this caliber, and she had never felt at home. With a sigh, she sorted through her luggage. She wanted to complete her task and go home.

Morning dawned bright and pure, cutting through the fog and piercing the cold shadows of the streets. Evelyn Quinn waited across the street from the youth hostel, her fedora pulled deep over her eyes, shadowing her face and concealing her identity. The room that she was sure Pandora stayed in had the window open, the curtains billowing in the breeze. She watched the window for a long moment, and then moved across the street.

She now wore a long black cloak, over a black business suit and white blouse. Her long hair was flowing over her shoulders, glinting red in the slants of sunlight. There had been no movement in the room since she had arrived there awhile before. Steeling herself against what she had to do, she made her way across the street, and into the front door of the hostel.

The old woman sat behind the desk, staring at the ceiling once more. This time she dropped her eyes as Evie entered. “Hello, dearie, welcome back,” she said in her wavering voice.

Evie did not reply; she simply strolled past the woman and up the rickety stairs, judging by the placement of the window she walked the hallway. Finally stopping before the door she suspected was Pandora’s, she raised her hand and rapped loudly.

It swung open with no delay. Before her stood a ravishingly beautiful woman with large dark eyes and olive skin. She held herself ramrod straight, shoulders back, long willowy limbs seemed to float on air as she moved. Long tumultuous curls cascaded over a sky blue dress of satin, it tapered to her waist and then fit perfectly to just below her knees. It was elegantly made, but also not professional. She made her own clothing to hide her poverty. She made her own clothing to fit in, to vanish.

“Pandora,” Evie said softly, her eyebrows arching at the sickening beauty of the girl before her. Behind her stunning splendor the room was a sparse backdrop. A twin bed sat in the middle, covered with a gray flannel coverlet, worn in several places. A lamp sat on a bedside table, and a suitcase sat on the floor. Other than that, it was empty as a tomb.

“Evelyn Quinn,” Pandora said, stepping aside. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Shock took over Evie’s elegant features as she stepped into the room. Her eyes widened as she struggled with the insinuation that her trailing skills were lacking. Finally she choked out a hoarse, “You were expecting me?”

“Yes,” Pandora replied. “I saw you coming to me. I saw you last night.”

“If you knew I was watching you then why did you not approach me?” Evie demanded, caught off guard by the insinuation that her trailing skills were lacking.

“Because you were hunting me, and I thought it best if you caught your own prey.”

Evie shook her head, turning toward the girl as she closed the door. “I’m not preying on you, miss. In fact, I’m doing exactly the opposite. I am studying you.” Pandora frowned, silent for a long moment.

“Why are you studying me?”

“Why are you stealing souls?”

A smile played on Pandora’s lips as she replied, “I do not steal souls, Evelyn. I retrieve those that cannot be contained any longer. All evil will be revealed in time, and in time all evil shall be collected.” She lifted her pillow and removed her black velvet bag. “In this bag lie the horrors of the world, Miss Quinn. In this bag, I have hidden the black marks of the human race. In this bag, I hold the darkest secrets of the people I have come in contact with.”

“Why do you hold them?”

“Why do you seek them?”

Pandora’s voice was hauntingly soft, lingering on the air like frost. “Do you seek them because of your secrets? Do you seek them to protect yourself in society, to answer your questions? Or do you seek them because you are told to? We all have our masks, Evelyn. We all hide ourselves away from society,” she broke her gaze, turning it toward the window. “I simply hide others secrets when they no longer can.”

Silence poured over the room as Evie watched Pandora stare out the window. She couldn’t see past the woman to the world behind her. The woman before her was a mystery to everyone but herself, and she did not seem to want to talk. For a long time, the two women stood apart, one staring out the window, and one staring at the other.

“What’s in the box, Pandora,” Evie asked, finally.

“Evil.”

“How did it get there?”

“Magic.”

Sighing, Evie turned away and moved toward the door. “There’s something going on in this situation, and I’m going to find it,” she said.

Pandora turned toward her, and frowned. “Evelyn, giving this box to your employer will not help mankind. It will destroy anything that touches it. I cannot allow you to do that. I have been trusted to carry this burden, and you will come to realize that, in time.”

“I think you’re wrong, Pandora. When you wish to find me-“

“Chicago Congress Hotel,” Pandora interrupted. “I know.” Evie closed the door behind her and made her way to the stairs.

The light on the desk in her hotel room was shining brightly from its place as she poured over page after page of Latin. She had studied it in school, but had never really reveled in it. She never actually thought she’d use it in normal society. Now she was rolling her eyes at her own stupidity. She reached past the bottle of scotch she was nursing and picked up the hotel phone.

“Yes, hello,” Evie said calmly, “I need to be patched through to an operator, please. Thank you.” The woman came on the line, and asked the location that she needed. Evie rattled off the number without thinking, her voice calm and serene, even though she could feel her heart racing.

Within a few rings, a male answered. “Hello?” His voice was grainy, distant, as if he were speaking through a wall.

“Yes, hello. Is Alison Sarina there?”

“Just a moment,” the man said huskily.

The voice that flooded the line rushed over Evie like a flood. “Alison Sarina speaking.”

“Ali-Cat! It’s me.”

“Evie!” she said.

Evie grinned, and lifted her glass of scotch to her lips. “How’s things at home?”

“Oh, you know, the same old, same old. Hathaway is obnoxious, Pamelia is absurd, Samantha is full of herself, and Otis is rude.”

“You’re not allowed to complain about Otis Wren,” Evie retorted. “You married the man.”

Alison’s voice held a smile as she replied, “Yes, I did, didn’t I? So, what have you been up too? How is your vacation?”

“I’m not doing so well, actually. I got roped into a job, and I need your help.” Evie replied. “But it’s pretty secretive, so I need your complete confidence.”

“You know me better than that, Evelyn. Anything you need, and I’ll be here for you. Just tell me what I can help you with,” Alison whispered.

Evie rose to her feet and moved across the room to the window. Down on the street headlights of passing cars appeared and disappeared in the fog. She took a deep breath and said, “I’m searching for a young woman who carries a box with her at all times. This evening I watched her drain a man of years within moments. Then she said, ‘All evil will be revealed in time’ and vanished into the night. I need to get that box.”

“If I didn’t know better I would say that you just described the legend of Prometheus and Pandora.” Alison replied, laughingly. Evie did not offer an explanation. Alison stopped laughing abruptly, and fear took over her melodic voice, “Are you looking for Prometheus’ Pandora, Quinn?”

“What if I am?” Evie asked, sliding into the chair of her desk once more. “Why is that so horrible?”

“Pandora is a legend unlike any legend that’s ever been told. The legend is frightening enough, but the real story is something far worse. Do yourself a favor, Evie. Stay away from Pandora. She’s a walking nightmare.”

“I can’t do that, Alison. I have to do this. I have to find her,” Evie replied. “Can you help me?”

“Don’t ask me to do this…” Alison whispered

“Why not?”

“This is not the makings for a happy ending, Quinn,” Alison said, rising to her feet. “You don’t want to know what is inside, Evie. You need to stay as far from it as possible. The only person in the world who can contain it is Pandora. Let her do it. Don’t meddle with magic that you don’t understand.”

For a long moment, Evie was silent. She stared at the ice in the glass before her, melting into water. “This is my job, Ali-Cat. This is what I have to do,” Evie whispered.

“No,” Alison replied softy, and Evie could almost see the downcast eyes of her best friend as she continued, “Evelyn, this is not something that the weak at heart should tamper with. In Greek mythology, Pandora was given a box by the gods, and was told not to open it. Naturally, she did... All the ills of the world flew out, and no one has ever been able to contain them again. Only hope was left in the box. Further legend says that she was given the chance to right her wrong. She was granted immortality until she located those evils and returned them. If it were to fall into the wrong hands…”

“That will not happen, Alison. You have my word,” Evie whispered.

“I only wish I could have that faith. But the people of the world live in a corrupt and vindictive mindset. They want what will bring them money, power, and strength. They don’t see with their souls, they see with their greed. If you do this, you’ll die before you finish it. She’ll see to that.” With that, the woman disconnected the phone call by replacing the receiver. Evie sat in silence at the desk in the midst of her shadowy hotel room. Suddenly the warmth of the light was not so warm. Suddenly it cast frightening shadows around on the walls, and created monsters in the corners. She reached over and clicked it off. Darkness fell.

Rising to her feet, she moved to the window and leaned down, pressing her forehead to the cool glass. Opening her eyes, she focused on the shadowy figure across the street.

The misshapen coat was all too familiar, the wide brimmed hat hid the features, but the long hair gave it away. She beckoned Evie to her with a nod of her head, and turned to walk slowly down the street.

Throwing on her trench, Evie tossed her fedora on her head and dashed down the steps, not waiting for the elevator. The bellhop and the receptionist watched curiously as she moved quickly out the front door, but neither moved to intercept her. Across the street, Pandora waited in the shadows.

“I didn’t realize what this was doing to you when I demanded that you hand it over,” Evie whispered, coming closer to the girl than she had dared before.

Pandora did not retreat from the invasion of privacy; she simply narrowed her eyes and raised her chin as she said, “And now you do?”

“There are different types of evil, Pandora. But I never realized that you might be fighting your own. I never thought that it was your burden,” Evie asked, staring into the eyes of this immortal child.

The girl watched Evie for a long moment before she whispered, “It is not a burden. It is a gift.”

Evie blinked, shocked by this innocent belief. “How can you say that? You’re forced to live immortally to collect the evils of society in a box that you must carry in your arms. You’re protecting this from the very people that you are trying to save.”

“But I was the one who released the evil, Evie,” Pandora whispered, her voice taking on that haunting feel once more.

Pandora’s dark eyes pierced her soul, spilling calmly over her like rainwater. In her mind’s eye she saw a young woman on her knees. Pandora kneeled before the box, her fingers dancing on the lid. She wore a gown of lavender, and she seemed far younger, even though she looked exactly the same.

The girl lifted the lid and looked inside, and even though Evie couldn’t see inside the box, she saw the face of the young woman who could. Tears welled up in her eyes and came spilling down her cheeks. They poured into the box, even as Pandora slammed the lid back down. She lifted the box to her heart and held it tightly. Her face was contorted in pain, and she bowed her head as if to pray.

The haunting voice echoed in Evie’s ears, even though Pandora did not speak. I’ve carried it for centuries. Never growing older, never knowing anything other than what I am told by the creators of the box. I have seen men tortured by themselves, and I have seen men rise up once released from their bonds. I have watched the world crumble and rebuild itself. I have no choice, but you do. Don’t fall victim to curiosity, turn away, vanish before the evil finds you too. You might not survive it. I almost did not.

“I see,” Evie whispered, choking on the feeling. “You feel responsible for it all. And you’re the only one who can fight it.” A slight smile tugged at the corners of Pandora’s mouth. “You control the evil within that bag by controlling the evil within you. That’s something that normal people cannot do. That’s something that I cannot do.”

“Evelyn, this is something that I have to bear alone. I cannot share my trials and tribulations with anyone. It is my weight to carry, my cross to bear. I have no choice in the matter,” Pandora whispered, shifting the weight of the bag to her other shoulder. “I owe this to the world, and I shall carry it until my debt is paid.” Evie nodded, stepped away a bit. Pandora took a deep breath, before she continued, “I think it’s best if we part ways now, before the sins of my blood spill to yours. Continue your path in life, Evelyn. You are destined for great things.”

“As I’m sure you are, Pandora,” Evie replied.

“No,” the girl replied with a sad smile, “My great things have been washed away by the sins of my past. But at least I can bear the sins of others to allow them to achieve greatness.”

She turned from Evie and strode away, vanishing into the fog of the night. The silence of the bitterly cold, rain-soaked streets of Chicago closed in, leaving Evie in a white cloud of uncertainty. She bowed her head and closed her eyes, whispering, “In my eyes, that makes you the greatest of them all…”

A voice drifted back on the wind, hauntingly beautiful and sickeningly sad, “Farewell, Evelyn Quinn. May we meet again, under better circumstances.”

Evie turned away from the shadows of the alley and stepped into the streetlights of Michigan Avenue. She had seen the evil reflected in the eyes of the young woman in her vision. She had seen the truth of the world lost in those mocha depths. Evelyn Quinn tilted her head back down and moved across the silent street, back to the warmth of the Congress Hotel leaving Pandora in the silent, biting cold.

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