The Roughest Courage

By Wendy Kavaney

Pandora Donner, who formerly worked at Elmhurst University's Library, now works as the Office Assistant at the University's Physical Plant. Pandora doesn't have any close family alive and depends on her friends for community and support. Pandora has a close friend from the Library, and in spite of the Physical Plant being an almost completely male environment, she finds friends there also. This is the story of how her friendships at Elmhurst are tested, and how Pandora learns that real friendships are entities of the roughest courage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wendy Kavaney
• Release date: Feb 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005662462

Book preview

The Roughest Courage

by Wendy Kavaney

The Roughest Courage

Copyright 2020 Wendy Kavaney

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and locations are either purely imaginary or are fictitious composites drawn from the author’s experiences.

No part of this work may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except brief quotations for review purposes.

Cover photo by Wendy Kavaney

Editing and book design by Jansina of Rivershore Books

Abra Books

St. Paul, MN

For Keith Adams

I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with the roughest courage. When they are real, they are not glass threads or frost-work, but the solidest thing we know.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

A stubby, orange-haired man walked down the hall of the Physical Plant and stopped in front of Pandora’s workstation.

Pandora?

Yes? she replied, making eye contact with the balding man in front of her. Why do so many balding men try to hide it by combing a few strands of oiled-down hair over their scalp? Pandora wondered. That just makes it look worse. There’s nothing wrong with being bald. Some men look more attractive that way.

Could you fax this contract and a cover sheet to Norman Construction? asked Joad. Here’s their number. And he handed her the contract and a scrap of paper with a phone number scrawled on it.

Sure, said Pandora Donner cheerfully. Joad left without a thank you, which wasn’t unusual for him. Ever since he had been promoted, he had given up basic civility. Before his promotion from Director of the Physical Plant—which is how Pandora and her coworkers still thought of him—he had been a pleasant enough person to work for. But now he had more responsibilities than he could handle and a position title so long that no one could remember all of it. This was not an exaggeration. Pandora, who was the office assistant, always had to look up his title on those rare occasions when she needed to actually use it. Pandora was frustrated with her inability to remember the actual title. Part of her difficulty was due to deficits in her short-term memory caused by her multiple sclerosis. But part of it was also caused by the meaninglessness of the title. It was something like Assistant Vice Principal in charge of many disparate areas. But as for the actual wording, Pandora couldn’t remember it for the life of her. All she knew for sure was that it was a position that seemed mostly made up to add another layer of bureaucracy to an already top-heavy organization. As for Joad, he was always stressed out now and had completely lost his sense of humor. He was in over his head and had started grasping his employees around the neck and pulling them down in an effort to keep himself above the water line. It was not pretty. Fortunately, because Pandora was so far down the chain of command, she was not exposed to much abuse.

As Pandora filled out a cover sheet, she thought how ironic it was that the former Director’s name was Joad. She assumed the name was taken from the last name of the impoverished family from the classic, The Grapes of Wrath. The Physical Plant Joad could hardly have less in common with that impoverished but courageous and giving family.

Then again, there was Pandora’s direct supervisor, the Acting Director of the Physical Plant, who had to be approached somewhat carefully. Her name was Mavis Hilpisch, or as the guys that worked at the Physical Plant occasionally referred to her. Mavis Hillbitch. She fawned over Joad, at least to his face, and was generally careful how she referred to him in front of other people. But sometimes she’d spit a little venom, which was much more in keeping with what Pandora thought was her true, reptilian nature.

If Joad was at sea in his job, Mavis was even worse. Pandora thought that Acting was the proper term for what Mavis did. She’s as clueless as I am about most areas of the Physical Plant work, thought Pandora, and unwilling to learn. She was also more than willing to blame someone else if something she did went wrong. On the other hand, she was quite willing to take credit for other staff members accomplishments. She was not to be trusted.

Most of Pandora’s co-workers were a typical bunch that you would find at almost any workplace. Most were goodhearted and easy to work with. Some were a little more thoughtful, a little funnier, and a little kinder. Pandora was good friends with these few, even though she hadn’t been working that long at the Physical Plant. But she was generally appreciated by almost all of the men because she had a good sense of humor and generally brought in snacks for the crew.

Pandora finished with the fax and started typing work orders into the computer program. She had never really learned how to type. She was, as her friend Buck would say. A hunt ‘n’ pecker. Buck was a good guy. He was very intelligent but didn’t like people to know it. Buck was a utilities worker on campus. He did everything from changing light bulbs in high, hard-to-reach places, to assisting the plumber, to setting up for events and helping just about everyone else who worked for the Physical Plant. And he did all of it for a lower rate of pay.

Pandora checked the clock. Ten minutes until lunch time. Yes, Pandora was a clock watcher, but she had found that if she didn’t keep an eye on the time, she sometimes worked through her lunch or break. The front door to the Physical Plant opened and Pandora looked up at the sound to find her student assistant Rachel coming in to work.

You’re early! said Pandora.

My class got out early, replied Rachel as she entered the side of the sectional front desk and pushed her backpack underneath the long tabletop at the rear of the desk. Rachel was a pretty, slender young woman with blue eyes and long, wavy blonde hair. Although she was very feminine, she preferred to be called Rae, the nickname she had grown up with. Today Rae seemed subdued and not her usual outgoing self.

What’s wrong? asked Pandora.

Nothing, answered Rae. But she refused to look up.

Are you sure everything’s okay?

Everything’s fine. But Rae still didn’t look at Pandora.

Okay then, said Pandora, and she went on to give Rae instructions on what work needed to be done.

Lunch time, said Rae. The student assistants all knew about Pandora’s tendency to lose track of time, and they were all good about reminding her when it was break or lunch time.

Oh, yeah. Thank you, said Pandora, and she picked up her water bottle and walked back to the large staff room that was used for breaks and lunch, still wondering what was upsetting Rae.

Buck was sitting on the end of one of the long tables that filled the break room. Pandora sat down kitty-corner to him. Buck was working on the New York Times Crossword Puzzle. He shoved it over to Pandora.

Here you go. Have at it, he said. Pandora started looking over the clues. The puzzle was about a third of the way filled in. It was a Friday puzzle, so Pandora didn’t have much hope they would finish it, especially with the limited time they had to work on it. She started reading the clues. She filled in one space where the clue asked for the name of the third wife of Henry VIII. Then she went on to other clues but with no luck. This is really a hard one, she thought.

C’mon, c’mon! said Buck.

Pandora threw him a dirty look and said, You know I can’t concentrate when you hassle me.

Then give me the newspaper!

Pandora pushed it over to him and turned to Lee on her right. Kids today! she said. Lee smiled. He worked in the Library on campus but had taken to having his lunch at the Physical Plant break room after Pandora transferred there from the Library. He started to reply when Bill from the Security Department entered. Bill looked uncomfortable, not like his usual macho self, and mostly ignored the greetings from the other men in the room. He came and stood over Lee.

I’ve got orders to take you to Human Resources to meet with Jane and Regan. Jane was the Director of Human Resources, while Regan was the Director of the Library.

Okay, said Lee calmly. As soon as my lunch break is over.

Um, they said to bring you right away, Bill said quietly, looking embarrassed. He wouldn’t meet Lee’s eyes.

This doesn’t sound good, murmured Pandora softly to Lee. Buck was paying attention also.

I haven’t done anything wrong, so it shouldn’t be too bad, said Lee. He and Bill left the room. Pandora turned to Buck.

I don’t think this is going to be good news.

I don’t think so either, replied Buck. You don’t think they’ll fire him, do you? I mean he always comes to work and seems good at his job.

"He is good at his job, said Pandora. But the Library is so political and they don’t have a union so they don’t need a reason to fire him. She looked grim. She had worked at the Library ten months earlier, before landing the job in the Physical Plant. She remembered all the outward emphasis on team building" and the inward favoritism.

One of the other guys in the room yelled. Lunch’s over! and flicked the light switch on and off. Everyone gathered the remains of their lunches, recycling pop cans and throwing out trash as they left the room.

Don’t worry, said Buck to Pandora. I’m sure they won’t fire him.

I hope you are right.

Pandora didn’t hear anything more about Lee in the afternoon. She had a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was good at worrying, and when it came to her friends, she was one of the best. The day dragged on. Finally, it was time to go home.

As she put her key in the lock of her apartment, she could hear her phone ringing. Pandora opened the door, dumped her mail on the floor, and hurried to the phone, catching it just before the answering machine message went on.

Pandora. It was Lee.

Lee, what happened? she asked.

They fired me.

Oh no, I’m so sorry! Did they say why?

Supposedly because I was ‘sabotaging’ the team reorganization in the Library and depressing everyone with my threatening behavior, answered Lee.

That’s bullshit! said Pandora. The pointless team plan is what is depressing everyone, and all you’ve done is respectfully ask questions about the plan. Regan is the one that nearly always has someone in tears by the end of the meetings.

Well that’s what they said they fired me for. They also had all my belonging packed in a box when I got back to the Library and had Bill from Security escort me off of campus and see that I left. I’m also supposed to make appointments with Regan if I want to use the Library, otherwise they will call Security and escort me off campus again. Lee had graduated from Elmhurst, and graduates were entitled to use the Library.

I don’t believe that. Can they really do that?

Apparently they think so. But I’m going to look into it. The only thing they didn’t send with me was my collection of Far Side cartoons. Lee had his favorite Far Side cartoons arranged neatly under the glass on his desktop.

Oh, what a shame! said Pandora. She too was a Far Side aficionado. How are you doing?

Okay, I guess. Trying to work up the courage to tell my father.

But you didn’t do anything wrong! He shouldn’t be angry.

Oh, he won’t be angry. He’ll just be worried about me.

Is there anything I can do for you? asked Pandora.

I can’t think of anything, but if I do I’ll let you know. I’d better go now. I have other people I should call.

Okay. Take care of yourself; I’ll be thinking of you, said Pandora.

Thank you. You were wise to get out of there when you did, said Lee.

Pandora hung up the phone. She looked in her freezer for something quick to eat but gave up because she really had no appetite. She was worried about Lee and also afraid he might break off contact now that they no longer shared a workplace. He was such a private person. She picked up her mail and idly went through it. Ironically enough there was a slim magazine that Elmhurst sent out to prospective students, current students, alumni, faculty, and staff. It was a piece of propaganda entitled Elmhurst Ways. I wonder how many people know that it’s one of Elmhurst’s ways to fire someone who had worked there for eleven years for no cause. Hmm, she thought, who would be interested in that? The idea of a newspaper article sprang to her mind, but she discarded it because Lee would never go for it. For him it would be too much like asking for pity. She leafed through the magazine once more and saw the name of the Chair of the Board of Trustees. Well now, he might be interested. In addition, the President of Elmhurst was probably clueless about the whole matter. It might not hurt to contact him. Pandora got up and got a pad of paper, put on some tunes, and wrote a long letter. She would run it by Lee tomorrow. And she would have to somehow find the address of the Chair of the Board of Trustees. That might be tricky, as she couldn’t exactly go to Human Resources and ask them for the address without tipping her hand. And in any case, they probably wouldn’t give it to her.

The next day Pandora called Lee up and told him about her idea of a letter to the Chair of Elmhurst’s Board of Trustees, with a copy to the college’s President.

My agreeing to your sending it would depend on what the letter said, was Lee’s response.

I can read it to you, or you can come over and take a look at it.

Why don’t you read it to me.

Pandora cleared her throat and did so.

Wow! I’m impressed.

Don’t make fun of me, said Pandora.

No, I mean it, I didn’t know you could write that way.

What way?

So calm and logical and formal.

Well, I was a philosophy major and I wrote my papers like that. So would it be okay with you if I typed it up and sent it?

Yes. If you feel comfortable taking that kind of chance. You could get into big trouble, you know.

I know, but I’d sleep easier after sending it. I think it’s the right thing to do and I’m no consequentialist; I’m more in agreement with Kant that we should do that which we can will universally. And I can will universally that when one sees an injustice being done, that they at least write to the powers that be.

The old golden rule, said Lee. Do unto others what you would have them do unto you.

Yes, I suppose, but most people think only in terms of not doing wrong. But I think doing nothing can be the biggest wrong of all. I believe in sins of omission.

Is that why you’re doing this? asked Lee.

I’m doing it because you’re my friend, which makes it easy to do, and because it’s the right thing to do.

What if you get fired?

I’ll be sad, of course, and worried about getting a new job. But I’ll fight them as best I can, and at least my conscience will be clear because I’ve done the right thing.

I’m glad to hear you say that. I wouldn’t want to be taking such a risk without being aware of the possible consequences.

Oh, I’m aware of the consequences. But I can live with myself better this way.

You’re gutsy.

Not really. I just know what it feels like to watch someone abused and not try to help them out, said Pandora. I don’t want to feel like that again.

That sounds like a story, said Lee.

Maybe, for another time, replied Pandora.

By the way, what time is it? asked Lee suddenly.

About 10:13. Why?

Randy invited me for brunch at 11:30, and so I can use her computer to job hunt and print out resumes and cover letters. Randy was Pandora’s former supervisor and the Head of the Periodicals Department at the Library. Although personal computers were starting to take off in 2001, most people still didn’t own one.

That was nice of her.

Yeah, but I’ve got to go get cleaned up so I get there on time!

Okay, go, and good luck job hunting.

Lee said thank you and hung up. Knowing about his obsessive-compulsive disorder as she did, Pandora reckoned it would take him every second of the time to get cleaned up to his satisfaction. She leaned back on her couch and sighed.

Unbidden, her mind went to the story that she hadn’t told Lee. It all happened when she was very young, before she even was in kindergarten. Pandora had a friend her same age, who lived next door. Regina Martin, she thought. Gina, as she was called. Gina had dark, almost black hair, in a pixie cut, and very dark eyes. Her dark, satin-smooth skin was always blushed with roses. It seemed to Pandora that she was always laughing about something. Well, almost always. Pandora had been a fainter image of Gina in coloring, her long hair bleached light-brown from always being out in the sun, her eyes a softer brown. They were almost inseparable. Best friends. They played typical children’s games with other kids in the neighborhood and also games Pandora made up for the two of them. In their imaginations, they rode wild ponies on the prairies, performed in a circus, were various wild animals in the jungle. One of their tamer pursuits was exchanging letters regularly. The letters weren’t really letters, as neither of them could write much more than their names. Rather they were pictures they drew and colored on sheets of paper. They would sign their drawings, fold them in half, colored picture inside, and then address them on the outside. "To Gina," thought Pandora, remembering. Pandora also recalled drawing a small square on the outside where a stamp would have gone on a real letter and coloring it in as well.

One day after her nap, Pandora drew a picture of her house, complete with over-sized red and yellow tulips in front of it, with a blue sky that came all the way down to the ground. Some children only colored the top of their pictures with a blue sky, but it seemed to Pandora, that when she looked straight ahead, the blue of the sky went all the way down, so she always colored in all of the sky in her pictures. Pandora printed her name at the bottom right of the drawing, folded it in half so there was a white surface on the outside, carefully drew a small square for a stamp in the upper right corner and this time put a red star sticker inside the square. She addressed it To Gina.

I’m going out to play! Pandora called to her mother as she pushed out of the chair by the kitchen table and ran to the back door, letter in hand.

Okay, but don’t run in the house, and be back in time for supper! replied her mother as Pandora banged out of the house and ran next door to Gina’s house. She was barefoot although was still early summer and a little cool out. But Pandora didn’t care; she loved to be barefoot.

Pandora pushed the doorbell beside Gina’s door. There was a pause and then Gina appeared on the other side of her screen door.

Don’t open the door! said a deep voice in the background, and peering through screen, Pandora could vaguely see Gina’s father sitting by the kitchen table. Gina, who had turned to look at the sound of her father’s voice turned back to Pandora.

I can’t come out and play, she said.

Oh. I have a letter for you, Pandora replied, holding up the folded sheet of paper. Gina glanced back at her father, then opened the screen door just the tiniest bit, and Pandora slipped the letter through the crack into Gina’s waiting hand.

I said not to open the door! Suddenly Gina’s father was standing over her. Through the screen, Pandora could see his dark eyes flash angrily below his short, dark, crew-cut hair. He jerked Gina away from the door with one hand and slapped her face with the other. Gina held up the letter and started to cry.

I’ll teach you to listen to me! and Gina’s father hit her again, this time on the side of her head as Gina tried to turn away out of his reach. Pandora stood frozen with fear on the other side of the door. Gina broke out of her father’s grasp and moved away. This seemed to anger her father even more, and he struck her hard a third time, the power of his blow propelling Gina back toward the open basement stairway. Pandora watched, horrified, as Gina stumbled back a couple of steps and fell with a scream down the open stairway. The sound of her tumble snapped Pandora out of her shock and she turned and ran as fast as she could, through Gina’s yard, through her own yard, and down a side street that led to a local park.

Part of the way to the park, Pandora could no longer run because of a stitch in her side, but she kept walking, breathing hard, until she was well over a block from home. Looking over her back, she veered off and cut through a vacant lot and down a steep hill to the overgrown line of bushes that surrounded the park. Pandora dropped down among the thick roots of the heavy bushes, safely hidden from sight. From where she was, she could see children playing in the park. But they couldn’t see Pandora hiding in the bushes. She sat on the cool earth with her hands around her knees, slowly rocking back and forth. Over and over again, Pandora replayed the scene at Gina’s door. I shouldn’t have shown her the letter, Pandora thought. I got Gina in trouble. What if she’s really hurt? What if she’s . . . dead? Oh no! I can’t think that! I should have said something to Gina’s father, Pandora thought, remembered his menacing dark image. But I was too scared. It happened so fast. Still, I should have tried to help Gina. I shouldn’t have just stood there. Like a coward. That’s what I am, a coward. Pandora didn’t know what to do. She was afraid to tell anyone what had happened because they might think it was her fault. She was afraid for Gina. She was afraid that Gina’s father, with his dark, flashing eyes, might try to hurt her, too. She was afraid. She rocked back and forth, while tears rolled down her cheeks, thinking and thinking. Finally, she noticed that she could no longer hear the children playing in the park.

She looked but they were gone. It must be suppertime, she thought. I’d better go home or mom will get mad at me. She dried her eyes on the hem of her shirt and backed out of the bushes. She was stiff because she had sat there so long. Pandora slowly started walking home.

Pandora, where were you? asked her mother when Pandora entered the house. I called you for supper twice!

I’m sorry, said Pandora. I didn’t hear you.

Well, go wash your hands and come and sit at the table, replied Pandora’s mother, somewhat wearily. Pandora had a tendency not to hear when she was called home. Her mother was not aware of how far away Pandora sometimes roamed. Pandora obediently went to the bathroom and washed her hands for supper, surprised, as always, at how much dirt she had accumulated. Then she walked to the table and took her seat. Pandora’s mother filled Pandora’s plate with small portions of salad and spaghetti and meatballs. Pandora’s father was already eating. Pandora lifted her fork and started moving the spaghetti around on her plate. She felt sick and knew that she would not be able to eat. But she was afraid of angering her mother. She stared down at her food.

Why aren’t you eating? asked Pandora’s mother. You know you like spaghetti.

I don’t feel good, replied Pandora, eyes still downcast. Pandora’s mother reached over and felt Pandora’s forehead.

You’re not hot, she said. Are you sure you don’t want to try to eat some of your supper? You know you will have to go to bed if you are too sick to eat.

That’s okay, said Pandora softly, still not looking up. My stomach doesn’t feel good.

Okay then, go and put on your nightgown and get into bed, and I’ll be in to check on you in a minute, said Pandora’s mother. Pandora slid from her chair and went to her small bedroom, undressed, and slipped her nightgown over her head and crawled into bed. A few minutes later her mother came in carrying a large sauce pan.

Do you think you might throw up? Pandora’s mother asked.

I don’t know, Pandora answered. She felt the same wooziness that she experienced when she was carsick.

Well, I’ll put this pan on your night table in case you need it, said Pandora’s mother. I’ll get you some soda crackers to nibble on if you feel hungry. Pandora’s mother left and came back shortly with a small plate of soda crackers and a glass of ginger ale. She turned on the lamp on Pandora’s night stand, turned off the overhead light in Pandora’s bedroom, and left Pandora alone with her thoughts. Pandora curled up on her side and tried not to think. But the scene with Gina kept being replayed in her mind. In the background she heard the house phone ring. Pandora could hear her mother answering it.

Oh hi, Cheri, said Pandora’s mother, and Pandora’s ears perked up and she sat up to be better able to hear. Cheri was Gina’s mother. Oh no, said Pandora’s mother. Is she all right? There was a pause and then Pandora heard Thank you for calling. Please let me know if there is anything we can do. There was another short pause and then Pandora’s mother said goodbye and hung up the phone. Pandora’s heart was pounding. The call must have been about Gina. Suddenly Pandora could no longer bear not to know what had happened. She called to her mother.

What is it? asked her mother, coming into her room.

I heard your phone call with Cheri. What’s wrong? asked Pandora anxiously, sitting up in bed. Her mother came in and sat on the bed next to Pandora.

Gina had an accident. She fell down the basement stairs and broke her arm.

Is she all right? asked Pandora.

She’s going to be fine. She has a cast on her arm, and you’ll have to be careful not to play too roughly until her arm heals, but she’s going to be just fine. Pandora laid back down in bed, weak with relief.

You mustn’t take things so hard, said Pandora’s mother. Tomorrow, if you are feeling better, you can go and see Gina. Now try and get some rest. Pandora’s mother tucked her in, said goodnight, and left the room. Pandora, left to herself, went over the day. She was glad that Gina wasn’t badly hurt, but she still felt guilty. I hope Gina isn’t mad at me, Pandora thought. She tossed and turned and finally fell asleep.

The next day found Pandora at the breakfast table, her stomach in knots about what the day would bring and how Gina might react toward her. She nibbled at her cereal and toast and sipped her milk and juice.

Are you sure you feel better today? asked Pandora’s mother. You don’t seem to have much of an appetite.

I’m okay. I’m just not hungry.

Well let’s get you dressed and then you can go out to play if you want. A little while later Pandora found herself out in her backyard. She saw Gina on a swing of the swing-set at the end of Pandora’s backyard. Gina was just slowly swaying back and forth. As she got closer, Pandora clearly saw the big white cast held up by a sling on Gina’s left arm. Pandora went over and sat on the other swing beside Gina.

Hi, said Gina, looking sideways at Pandora while she slowly moved to and fro.

Hi, replied Pandora, relieved that Gina was willing to talk to her. But she still felt guilty. Pandora set her own swing in motion, in slow counterpoint to Gina’s. She looked at the impressive cast on Gina’s arm.

Does it hurt? asked Pandora.

Not now. It hurt before I went to the hospital, and it hurt when they moved the arm before they put the cast on it, but now it’s okay. It’s hard to sleep, though, said Gina. She stopped her swing with her feet. Would you like to sign my cast? she asked Pandora. My mom and dad signed it, and the nurse at the hospital, and my sister signed it, and this afternoon I’m going over to my grandma and grandpa’s house and they’re going to sign it. Gina motioned to the signatures on her cast and Pandora looked at them with interest. She had never seen anyone’s cast before.

Sure! Pandora replied, relieved that it didn’t seem like Gina was mad at her.

Okay, let’s go to my house. My mom has some great colored pens you can use! They started walking to Gina’s house when Pandora suddenly stopped.

Is your dad home? she asked, trying to keep her fear from her voice.

No, he’s at work, replied Gina, not looking at Pandora.

Okay then, said Pandora and they both walked quickly to Gina’s house. Once inside, Gina’s mother gave them four marking pens, a red, a blue, a green, and a black. Pandora carefully printed her name on Gina’s cast in blue, and drew a small red tulip with a green stem and leaf next to the name. It was kind of difficult to write on the cast because there were little bumps and curves in the plaster, but Pandora did her best.

That’s very nice, Pandora, said Gina’s mother when they showed it to her.

Gina and Pandora retired to Gina’s room to draw until it would be time for Gina to visit her grandparents.

I can’t draw very well because I have to use my right hand now, said Gina. She was left-handed.

I’ll use my left hand and then we’ll be equal, offered Pandora. Soon they were giggling about their clumsy efforts. A little while later, Pandora was waving goodbye to Gina as Gina and her mother pulled out of the driveway. Pandora walked back to her house, glad that Gina didn’t seem mad at her. But she still felt guilty.

A month later Gina’s family moved away. Pandora never saw Gina again, but Pandora always wondered about her and worried about what might happen to her with what Pandora thought of as her monster of a father.

Remembering all of this made Pandora feel sad and ashamed, even though she realized that in those days children were not taught about abusers or what to do if they saw anyone be abusive. Pandora had talked to a therapist about this once, and although the therapist had tried to reassure Pandora that she had done nothing wrong, Pandora was not convinced. I should have tried to help Gina, she thought. I could have shouted stop! or something. But I did nothing but run away. Even if I didn’t succeed in helping Gina, I should have tried. Trying to do the right thing became a creed for Pandora.

I’ll bet Lee would understand about how important it is to try, thought Pandora, coming back to the present. Suddenly she thought, The public library! I can use their computers to type up this letter. I’d better get cleaned up myself!

Chapter 2

After showering and dressing, Pandora filled her backpack, taking along a disk to copy her work. It was an eight-block, uphill walk to the library. Pandora was glad to get there. Since she had been diagnosed with MS, her stamina level had gone