Pandora Park

by Piers Anthony

  Mark stepped forward, lifting his sword. “Stop!” he cried.

  The monster charged right past him, so swiftly that Mark did not even stab at it. It closed on Kelsie.

  She screamed again, but it came right up to her, opening its enormously toothy mouth. The front tusks seemed about to skewer her. Mark tried to run back to help, but knew he wouldn’t be in time.

  Kelsie slapped the monster on the snout. That feeble gesture would have been laughable, if the crisis weren’t so serious.

  The monster’s scales fell off. So did a tusk or two. All that was left was pinkish bare pigskin. The thing suddenly looked much less fearsome.

  The three of them stared: Mark, Kelsie, and the pig monster. Then, embarrassed, it spun about, plunged off the path and into the thick brush.

  “Scales—like clothing,” Mark said, astonished.

  “I didn’t realize,” she said. “I just didn’t want to get bitten.”

  “You stopped it yourself. Some hero I turned out to be!”

  “It avoided you. It must have known the sword would hurt it.”

  “And it thought you couldn’t hurt it. Now we know.”

  “Now we know,” she agreed. But she was plainly shaken.

  “And now I know,” he said. “I can’t just stand there with the sword. I need to wield it.”

  “I’m sure you will, as you get more practice.”

  “Thank you,” he said, exactly as she normally did.

  She smiled. “Let’s complete our exploration. We still hardly know this park.”

  “Yes. But maybe I’d better not wish for another BEM. I didn’t even get that right.”

  “It didn’t have bug-eyes,” she agreed. “Only little pig-eyes. But it certainly scared me.”

  They continued along the path. It led them past gardens of candy canes, pools of ice cream, and mountains of cookies. But these delicacies were wasted on two children who had already figured out that candy was not always good for them.

  “Even this is getting dull,” Mark said. “But I’m afraid to look for anything really interesting.”

  “Maybe a fun park section,” she suggested. “Something that can’t chase us.”

  “Good idea!” He thought of a great amusement center he had been to once, that had everything. How far wrong could that go?

  Then they came to an amusement park section, with a Ferris wheel, bumper car arena, and a roller coaster. Mark didn’t see anything wrong with it, and that made him nervous. Something was always wrong with the things he found. Why should this be any different? But what was it? Everything looked normal.

  Their best course might be to pass it by. But then he saw Kelsie gazing longingly at the roller coaster. Maybe they didn’t have them in China.

  “Take a ride?” he asked her, half-hoping she would change her mind.

  “Oh, yes!” Oh, well.

  They went to the starting point. There were no other people, and no ticket taker. A single car sat on the tracks. They got in, fastened the seat belts, and the car started moving.

  “This is meant to be scary,” he reminded her. They could still change their minds.

  “Yes. I have seen them in films. I always wanted to ride one, but we never could.”

  So much for that. Yet he saw nothing wrong with the roller coaster. Could he have gotten it right, for once?

  The car reached the base of the lift. It angled up on the track, then rose up the steep grade. It climbed to a dizzying height, leveled off, then came to the first horrendous drop. Kelsie watched it all, rapt.

  The car tilted down, moving faster and faster, and the wind whipped hard against their faces. “Oooo!” Kelsie breathed, loving it.

  So were they going to crash? Mark remained nervous.

  They zoomed down, then around a sharp curve that flung Kelsie into him despite the seat belts, and coasted up the next rise. And down again, this time into a brief dark tunnel. In the middle of it there was what felt like a break in the track; the car jumped, and Kelsie screamed, but then it found its footing and rolled on out of the tunnel.

  “It’s a small drop in the track,” Mark explained. “In the dark it feels like a crash, but the wheels never leave the track. They can’t; they’re locked on.” Here he was reassuring her, when all the time he was afraid of a real crash. He just knew there would be something wrong.

  “It’s so wonderful,” she said, impressed.

  The car completed the route and returned to the starting place. But it didn’t stop; it raced right on through and started a second circuit.

  “Something’s wrong,” Mark said, alarmed. “It’s supposed to glide to a stop, so people can get off and new ones get on.” Was this what he had feared?

  “Maybe we rate a second ride,” she said, excited.

  But when the car zoomed though the starting point and started a third loop, Kelsie became as alarmed as Mark. Not only was it not stopping, it was getting faster. This was dangerous.

  “We’ve got to stop it,” Mark said.

  “How?”

  “I think there’s a switch at the top, in case of emergency.”

  “Can you reach it?” For there was good clearance on either side of the track.

  Mark brought out the sword. “With this maybe I can.”

  When the car slowed near the top, Mark stabbed at the emergency stop button with the point of the sword. He could never have done it alone, but the magic of the sword guided it to exactly where he aimed, and it poked the button.

  The car screeched to a halt at the top of the highest rise. They had stopped it—but now they were stranded without any easy route down.

  “I know,” Mark said, undoing his seat belt. “Hug me, then kiss me.”

  She nodded, understanding. She hugged him, and he felt the strength forming. Then she kissed him on the cheek, and he became floating light.

  Now he put his arms around her, lifted her easily, and stopped off the side of the track. They floated down at half speed, her weight slowing his floating. He landed, and his mighty legs touched the ground and held, not getting broken or even injured.

  He set her back on her feet. “Don’t let go of me,” he said. “I could still float away.”

  “You saved me,” she said.

  “Well, you saved me.”

  “We saved each other. We work well together.”

  “I was afraid I wouldn’t find exactly what I looked for. I was looking for a good, safe, amusement park.”

  “Oh, I forgot!” she said, dismayed. “I should have questioned it.”

  “Not your fault.”

  They resumed checking and marking the path. Soon it led them back to their starting point. It was a loop, taking them to whatever they looked for, but nothing else.

  “I guess I’d better just practice with the sword right here,” Mark said, vaguely disappointed.

  “I wish I could go home,” Kelsie said.

  “I’ll try to look for a way. While I practice. Of course it won’t be exactly what we want, but maybe there’s be something.

  “That would be nice.”

  “Yeah.” But he hadn’t been able to do that type of search before. Still, he wanted to be positive, so she wouldn’t be depressed.

  He concentrated on basic moves with the sword, while also trying to think of something that would help Kelsie. Even though he feared it was hopeless. Just so long as she thought there was real hope.

  He smiled. The hope from Pandora’s box, maybe.

  Chapter 4:

  America

  Kelsie was depressed. Mark was clearly finding his place, using what he found to improve himself. But she was just marking time. How could she wait out the storm, when time did not pass outside as long as she was here?

  “I got it!” Mark said suddenly.

  “You have what?”

  “The answer! I know how you can get past that storm.”

  “I would love that.” She was desperate. “How?”

  “You can visit me. In A
merica. Then you’ll be out of the park, and time will resume outside. When enough has passed you can return to the park, and to your entrance.”

  That just might work. But there were bad problems. “How would your family feel about it?”

  “Oh, they’d understand. I think. You could explain.”

  “I can’t speak your language.”

  He looked dismayed. “I forgot about that.”

  Still, it was an idea. “Perhaps you could explain for me. At least you could ask. It would be understandable if they refused.”

  “I’ll ask,” he agreed. “But should I go out separately? We think time freezes inside the park, but can we be sure? Suppose I came back in ten minutes and it’s two days for you?”

  “That’s ridiculous. And it makes me nervous. We’d better go together.”

  “Come on, then. We’ll have to wait most of an hour in the outer park, until Mom comes to pick me up. We won’t be able to talk there, either, so we’ll have to cover the bases before we step out.”

  “The bases?”

  “What you need to know. What we can tell them. I don’t think we can tell them the truth. It’s not that I want to lie; it’s that they won’t believe it.”

  “We need to practice the art of the ellipsis.”

  “The what?”

  “Leaving out just enough so they think they understand more than they do. Tell them I’m a friend who got flooded out. They’ll assume I’m from another section of your town. It won’t be a lie, exactly.”

  “Got it. I’ll tell them as much of the truth as I think they can handle. I’d like to tell it all, but that will have to wait. You just smile and do whatever Mom says. Deal?” He extended his hand.

  “Deal,” she agreed, taking his hand.

  “Oh, no!”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I think I just discovered another one of your magic talents. You shook my hand—and suddenly I have to tell the exact truth.”

  “Another talent! That’s interesting. But will it carry over outside?”

  “I guess not. But I’ll try for the truth anyway.”

  They cleaned up their camping site, so as not to litter the magical park. Mark found vines and strapped the sword to his back, while Kelsie hung the cleaned pot on a branch of the candy tree for safekeeping. Then he scootered and she skated along the paths that were so familiar to him and so confusing to her.

  She got nervous as they approached the chocolate ball tree that marked his entrance. Was this really wise? But what was the alternative?

  “You don’t have to do this,” Mark said, evidently noting her distress. “It’s just an idea.”

  “But I have no better idea. But promise me, if it goes wrong, return me to the park.”

  “I promise. One way or another I’ll get you back here. I’d be nervous about staying with your folks too; I know how it is.”

  That was his empathy, the way he understood her feelings, and she very much appreciated it. He would do for her what he would want her to do for him, if they traded places. She stepped toward him, then drew herself up short. “Apology,” she murmured.

  “You were going to kiss me!” he said. “But you stifled the impulse.”

  “Yes. I cannot afford to act impulsively. There are magic consequences.”

  “Thanks. But you know, all we have to do is step outside the park, and the magic is gone. So it wouldn’t have mattered.”

  “True. So I can kiss you outside.”

  He looked distressed.

  “I was teasing,” she said quickly. “I know you don’t like it.”

  “No, I’m afraid I would like it.” Then he looked stricken. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “The handshake!” she said, remembering. “It makes you tell the truth.”

  “Yeah.”

  This was getting to be pretty much of a friendship. “I promise not to embarrass you in any way I can avoid. I will be a very proper girl in your house. But you will have to speak for me.”

  “I will.” He took a deep breath. “Are we ready?”

  “Let’s find out.” She stepped forth.

  It was a children’s park much like the one in Beijing, complete with the statue of Pandora with her box. The same company must have made it. But why? With the ability to make magic, it obviously did not need to cater to children. The whole business made her nervous when she thought about it. She would have to discuss it further with Mark, when they could talk to each other again.

  They sat on a bench and waited, because no time had passed here, just as none had passed at her entrance. That was another thing: that company could control time in a remarkable manner. So again, why waste it on children? Why weren’t they using it to make a fabulous fortune in the world? It didn’t seem to make sense, and she distrusted that. She was sure it did make sense, but not necessarily a sense they would like.

  Three children ran by, followed by a parent. They were crying out in English, and about all Kelsie understood was the word O-kay. She felt strangely weak, because she couldn’t talk here.

  At last the hour passed. A woman approached, carrying packages. Mark touched Kelsie’s hand briefly, reassuringly, and got up to meet the woman. Kelsie remained seated, letting him handle it. He took the packages from his mother. He talked rapidly.

  After a moment the woman turned to fix a sharp gaze on Kelsie. Kelsie smiled agreeably. What else could she do?

  The woman turned back to Mark, shaking her head. Of course she wouldn’t let him bring home a strange girl like a stray puppy he found in the street.

  But Mark was firm. Kelsie knew he was telling her how this friend he had met in the park had been flooded out of her neighborhood and had nowhere to go. He had to help her. It would be for only a few days. Please, Mom, please!

  The woman came to Kelsie, who dutifully stood before her. “Troo?” she asked. Behind her, Mark slowly nodded. She needed to agree.

  Kelsie nodded, blushing.

  The woman stood for a moment, plainly disturbed. Of course she couldn’t simply put a helpless girl on the street, but neither did she want to bring her into her home.

  After an agonizingly long pause, she decided. She gestured curtly toward the path.

  Weak with relief, Kelsie walked in that direction. Mark didn’t try to speak to her; he was leaving her to his mother. Indeed, the woman took her elbow, guiding her as if she were blind. This was a strong-minded parent. Kelsie knew the type, thinking of her own mother.

  They came to the family’s car, which was larger than the cars seen in China. There were many others parked near it, and very few bicycles. That was quite different from what she knew.

  Kelsie went to get into the back seat, but the woman guided her to the front. Obediently she got in beside the driver, while Mark put the packages in back and got in himself. He was no longer talking. He had made his case.

  The woman started the car and drove along the street. The houses were larger and fancier than the ones Kelsie knew, and their flat-tiled roofs were odd. Every house had a perfect green lawn, too. This was truly a wealthy region. But what about Mark’s mother? Kelsie knew by her attitude that this was far from over. The woman was wary of this strange child who had somehow bewitched her innocent son. Exactly as Kelsie’s mother would be.

  The woman produced a cell phone and called a number. She said only a few words, but Kelsie felt a chill. Was she notifying the police? If Kelsie was put in a jail cell, she would be unable to return to the park and home, no matter how much time passed. But Mark remained silent, and that seemed good.

  A man met them as the car halted at a house in a suburb. He smiled at the woman. That would be Mark’s father. He glanced briefly at Kelsie and made no comment. He had to have been the one Mark’s mother had called, so he was not surprised by the visitor.

  The woman guided her into the house and to a computer. “Mark.”

  Mark sat down and typed a letter in his language. Kelsie recognized the odd sound-based symb
ols it used. It was only two sentences long. Then he turned to Kelsie. “Ee-male,” he said.

  After a confused pause, she realized what it was: an electronic note to her family. To let her parents know she was safe. But they needed her electronic address. Her family did not have a direct one, but there was a local community one that could reach her father.

  What could she do? She gave it. Mark typed in the symbols, and sent the note.

  That was all. His mother dismissed Mark and took Kelsie to a room that evidently belonged to a girl. Mark’s older sister; he had mentioned her as being in college. So her room was vacant. In America they could afford to keep an empty room instead of renting it out; it was part of the richness so many people had here.

  The woman rummaged in a closet and produced a dress that was approximately her size. It must date from when his sister was her age. “Jange,” she said. She wanted her to don the dress.

  Again, Kelsie had to do it. She removed her own clothing, which was typical of her culture.

  Then she saw Mark’s mother looking hard at her body. Oh, no! She had forgotten about the undershirt she was wearing: Mark’s T-shirt. The woman recognized it. Her mouth tightened into a thin line. What must she be thinking? And Kelsie could not even try to explain. She felt herself blushing furiously—and of course that did not help.

  The woman said nothing, and seemed to have forgotten it in a moment. But Kelsie knew this was real mischief. She hoped the woman would believe Mark when he explained.

  The room had its own little bathroom, with a toilet and shower. That was another American luxury. Kelsie remained somewhat grubby from her soaking, and was glad to get completely clean again.

  She dressed, discovering also socks and shoes. Mark’s mother was making sure she was appropriately garbed throughout. This time.

  She dried her long dark hair, and was about to braid it when Mark’s mother reappeared. The woman shook her head.

  Not braid her hair? Kelsie normally kept it out of the way, in the manner of girls her age. It had never been cut. She had left it braided when she got soaked, as it would have been a mess to handle wet.