Pandora’s Bible (Parts I and II)

Part I: Genesis

     In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. He shaped humans from clay, and placed them among animals with which they were kept company. The humans progressed through thousands of years, increasingly becoming healthier, stronger, and smarter, producing new ideas that continued their growth. They surpassed the animals, and gained control of the world as the dominant species. It seemed only a matter of time before they surpassed themselves as well.

     As they continued to learn, they began to find fault with their old ideas. The information that had helped them to become who they were was thrown out like Lucifer from heaven. They forgot who created them, and disowned their god. The second millennium came and went, and the humans began to progress at an alarming rate. They took their direction from a new god, Science, bowing down to his every whim. Their bodies were no longer made of flesh and blood, but machinery. Steel and wires connected their arteries and muscles, creating a new race of humanoids unlike the men that had once walked the earth. Their old god shuddered at what had become of his creation.

     The paradise he had once made so green and lush was ravaged by war and chemicals. In their haste for advancement, the humans disregarded the health of their planet. Smoke coated the yellow skies, and tropical storms destroyed their skyscrapers. Vegetation could no longer produce oxygen for them to breathe, so they bought and sold the last of this precious resource. God looked down on them and wept.

     But the humans looked to their new god for hope, and he delivered to them their salvation: me. Pandora. A new planet discovered to replace the one they had mercilessly killed and abandoned. As the floods raged and darkness covered the earth, the humans piled into their spaceships and travelled to their new home.

     Years passed as the machines shuttled to my surface. World leaders held conferences deciding which parcels of my body they would claim as their own, and environmentalists instructed them on how to make me last longer than earth. Eventually, I could see the glimpse of their satellites and space stations through the blanket of glittering stars that surrounded me, and I knew they would land soon.

     The cold, metal feet of the rocket was contrasted by the fire that shot out of it onto my mountain-covered shoulders. More and more touched down onto Pandora, their new habitat. Slowly, a rocket hissed open, and a man stepped out, someone I recognized. His tousled brown hair appeared as if it had been nervously combed through, and his smiling face was underlined with vague fear. His mechanical green eyes glittered like my grain fields he had walked through previously on an exploratory mission years ago.

     Yes, I knew this man. Adam Lodge, an astronaut, had been the first one to explore me. Now it appeared he would be the first to settle me as well. I watched as he spoke to the other half-human, half-machine beings that accompanied him. He passed around maps and blueprints, taking care that his words were not misinterpreted by the electronic ears that listened to him in addition to the human ones.

     Adam helped the others out of the spaceship, letting them walk over the valleys of my skin for the very first time. They looked around in wonder, admiring the clear blue of fresh water and the ripe green of trees that most had never seen in their lifetimes. Some removed their metal lungs, breathing in the unfiltered air. Finally, Adam helped the last passenger out of the rocket, a woman heavy with child. Once she was firmly upon my surface, they embraced, crying. Like the Pandora from their own mythology, I could reveal hardships of all kinds, but for this moment, I was happy to offer hope.

     Years passed as the humans began to make their homes upon my surface. I gave them food, animal companions, and shelter like their god before me had. Adam rose to prominence among the settlement, becoming a leader for them in uncertain times. He went around with his wife and newborn son, naming the regions and beasts I provided for him.

     “Pandora is our new home. We must protect her at all costs, so that she doesn’t end up like our once-beloved Earth. As we continue to develop more settlements, more humans will move to our new home, and change her like we have. This is why I am proposing that we enclose this green garden for eternity. People can come to enjoy the shade of the trees and the coolness of the streams, but no change will be made to this area. No buildings will be built, no plants cut down. This paradise is called Eden.”

     The people loved Adam and his beautiful wife, and they loved his Eden. They flourished along with the garden, even as more people from earth inhabited me. But as the years passed, I could feel a shift in the cosmos. Change was coming. I knew something was amiss when Adam’s lovely wife entered Eden with their son. They were playing along the banks of the streams lacing my surface when a man appeared behind them. His wife turned to greet the newcomer, but was shocked by his appearance.

     I was as surprised as she was to discover that he had no electronic modifications to his body. He spoke no words to the mother and child as he turned quickly from them and began to saw down a tree. Horrified, Adam’s wife screamed at him to stop.

     “Eden cannot be defaced! This is our sacred garden!”

     The man continued to saw away, and felled the tree. He quickly moved onto another as Adam’s son began to weep loudly.

     “Excuse me, sir! You can’t—“

     But her calls were cut short, along with her sons screams. A pistol sat smoking in the other hand of the stranger, unseen by the mother and child. Two bullets rang sharply through the misty air, killing them instantly. Storm clouds overhead formed as I began to weep over their deaths. Rain poured down over the murderous newcomer as he continue to fell trees. I flooded my banks and thunderously screamed overhead to stop him, to no avail. He worked at every tree in Adam’s garden, until all that was left was a valley of broken branches, piling limply upon the lifeless bodies of his wife and son.

     When Adam finally discovered them, he screamed, unheard to the people under the lightning I dangerously flashed. He scooped them up and hastily buried them in the center of his settlement. They were the first people to die upon my surface. Eden was destroyed, and Adam would never be the same.

Part II: Exodus

     Months passed quickly after the first two murders on Pandora, and Adam became increasingly bitter. Instead of the kind, selfless leader that had fearlessly led the people to me, he became a harsh dictator. He refused to allow any more people to live upon me. The ones who were already settled became trapped under his unflinching law, harsh curfew, and controlling police force. He became disregarding of the resources I provided him, and I could feel my lifeblood draining away.

     The people suffered, and I suffered. Oxygen masks became more and more common as my blue skies faded under Adam’s factories. My emerald trees were felled more often to build horrendous prisons to house civilians convicted of crimes as simple as breaking curfew. My once twisting streams evaporated under the harsh light of the surrounding stars through my weakened atmosphere. Dust gathered upon the graves of Adam’s wife and child. I forgot what it was like to give hope to the people.

     That was until I discovered Noah: a handsome, nature-loving boy who reminded me of the man Adam used to be. Through him, I knew I could set the people free. In the deepest valley of my surface, I shaped a creation of my own, a woman. Her flowing hair and tan skin were reminiscent of the land she had been shaped from. Using her as my mouthpiece, I could communicate with Noah. I christened her, my new daughter, Elara, and sent her on her way to the settlement.

     "Excuse me, are you Noah? I’d like to speak to you in private for a moment.” 

     Elara didn’t wait to see if the young man would follow her. She waltzed over to a bench near the rock haul that Noah was assigned to labor in. Puzzled by this strange girl, Noah reluctantly followed, making sure his supervisor was distracted. Noah began to speak, but was immediately interrupted by my offspring.

     “Before you say anything, I need you to trust me. Understood?”

     Even more puzzled than he had been before, Noah nodded his head. He had to find out what this person wanted with him before he got into trouble at work.

     “Good. My name is Elara, and I have come to see you with a purpose. I have been sent as a representative by my mother, the very planet Pandora that you reside upon. She is unhappy with how her servant Adam has been ruling the people, and wishes to end him.”

     Noah balked at the mention of Adam, waving his arms to stop Elara.

     “Whoa, let me stop you right there. As unbelievable as it is that you are talking to me on behalf of a planet, there is also no way I’m getting mixed up in a scheme like this! Treason is a crime punishable by death. There is no way I’m going to be a hit man to take out our leader!”

     Annoyed, Elara glared at Noah for his interruption.

     “I have yet to finish my statement. Perhaps you will understand the situation more fully if you listened before speaking.”

     Surprised once again by Elara, Noah shut his mouth.

     “Thank you. As I was saying, Pandora wishes to stop Adam, by herself. She has been watching you for the last few months, and believes that you are a worthy candidate to help the people. You are strong and caring, and she believes this task is suited to you.

     “Pandora wants to send a storm to destroy all the evil that Adam has created here. A huge flood will wipe away his polluting factories and restore Pandora’s lifeblood. however, she does not wish to harm you, or the people, who have done nothing wrong. Your job is to evacuate them underground so that they will be safe from the waters above.”

     Noah quizzically looked at Elara, curious as to whether or not she was serious. After a moment, he spoke.

     “You’re right that I’d do whatever I can to help the people, but there is no proof that a storm this size is even going to happen!

     “Proof?” Elara grinned. “You want proof? I guess you have to be convinced some way. Pandora!” she shouted, “if you can hear me, grow a tree next to Noah to show him that you want him to save the people from the flood!”

     Although I was weak, I had to convince Noah to go along with my plan. Hastily, I caused a small pomegranate tree to sprout next to Noah.

     “What is happening!” he exclaimed. “How did—where had—“

     “Now will you help us?” Elara asked smugly.

     Noah stared amazedly at the tree.

     “How can I say no after a spectacle like that?”

     “You won't be sorry that you helped Pandora. Thank you.”

     Elara stood up, then disintegrated into sand at Noah’s feet.

     Noah began construction on the underground sanctuary the day after he was visited by Elara. I watched him struggle over the weeks to dig a large enough space without being detected by Adam’s police force. Day after day, he carted down air ventilators, food, water, sleeping bags, and lanterns. Throughout the ordeal, Noah never lost faith in what he was doing, which reassured me that I had made the right choice. After months of work, he finally finished the evacuation center. The only thing left was for me to use the last of my strength to flood the planet.

     However, things started to fall apart after Noah completed his sanctuary. One day at work in the rock haul, he was detained by Adam’s men.

     “Noah! We need you to accompany us to Adam’s offices!”

     The men roughly grabbed Noah and dragged him to Adam. They threw him into the office and locked the door. Adam lay coughing and cursing on the ground and Adam began to speak.

     “Noah, do you know why you’re here?”

     Noah grimly sat up and looked into Adam’s mechanical green eyes.

     “I’m here because you want to put me in prison, probably for some minor infraction that wouldn't be considered a crime anywhere else in the galaxy!”

     A cold grin spread across Adam’s face.

     “Always the peoples’ advocate, aren’t you Noah? Well, I guess you’re correct. I’m detaining you. Did you really think you could get away with building a hideaway that size?”

     Adam’s eyes narrowed.

     “I’m watching your every move!” he screamed. “No one can escape my vision!”

     Noah retracted from Adam. The dictator breathed heavily, then calmed down over a series of minutes. He never broke contact with Noah.

     “I suppose you think I’m ruthless, putting people away for such small things as stealing or lying. But you know what?” He leaned close to the younger man. “One of those criminals has to eventually be the one who murdered my family. I want him dead!”

     Adam was thrown into a rage once again, but was interrupted by Noah.

     “You’ve lost your damn mind, Adam! Do you think this is what a leader is supposed to be like? Uncaring? Living in the past? It’s not! You’re disillusioned!”

     Adam froze, then turned slowly to face Noah.

     “My wife and child are dead because of some vagrant who was never punished.” he slowly let out through gritted teeth.

     “Adam,” Noah countered. “I know losing them was hard for you, but it’s been years! Torturing the rest of the population won’t bring either of them back!”

      “I’ve been the best leader I could during the difficult times we’ve had on Pandora. I keep people in jobs and criminals in jail. Hell, I brought all these people here when earth was destroyed! You think I’m a bad leader?”

     By this time, Noah was seething.

     “You rule through fear! You keep your people in line with threats. None of them are happy! And you know what? It’s about time someone told you this: you’re stuck in the past! You are incapable to lead, and it's time we did something about that.”

     I recognized this as my cue to put in place the final steps of our plan. With the last of my lifeblood, I surged through every stream, river, lake, or puddle I could sense on my surface. At once, waves larger than the tsunamis racking earth rose up and flooded my surface. Noah burst through Adam’s window and ran into the streets.

     “Everyone, a flood is coming quickly! If you want to live follow me to my shelter!”

     The screaming citizens ran after Noah, piling into the bunker underground. Adam, a look of terror on his face, scrambled after them, but I pushed him back with a wave. Once all the people had been seated in the bunker, Noah closed the door.

     I unleashed the full force if the waters that had risen up at my cue. Rain clouds gathered overhead, spattering the already flooded ground with condensation. The quick waters smashed into the factories and buildings that stole my healthy environment and enslaved the people. Adam’s screams became inaudible over the rushing sound that lured forth. I washed over the graves of his wife and child, ridding them of the dust that had gathered upon them.

     For forty days and nights, I continued to pound my skin over and over with all the water I could, while Noah kept the people safe in his bunker. Finally, I could feel that all was finished. The water absorbed back into the valleys and gorges that it had come from. My surface was as it had been before Adam brought the humans to me: lush, and undeveloped.

     As a sign to Noah, I grew another tree next to him inside the compound, this time an olive sapling to show my peace. Happily, he unlocked the door of the bunker, and the people staggered out into the sunshine. Just as they had done when disembarking their space ships, they happily glanced around at the colorful trees, flowers, and animals. The people rejoiced, and danced on my surface. They encircled a laughing Noah, begging him to be their new leader. Joyfully, I smiled, a huge arcing rainbow over the glimmering day I had created with Noah.

     Finally, the people were free to roam over a garden much more expansive than Eden had ever been.

TO BE CONTINUED IN:

Part III: Leviticus

Article from Meadows, Nevada Local Newspaper

“ST. MEADOW’S MIDDLE SCHOOL STUDENT OF THE YEAR WINS $2,000 HIGH SCHOOL SCHOLARSHIP. Hope Miller, a recent eighth-grade graduate of St. Meadow Middle School, has been awarded a $2,000 scholarship to the high school of her choice. Ms. Miller’s teachers describe her as a hardworking, intelligent young lady with great potential. Her greatest skills include writing and analyzation of the English language. She is speculated to be using the prize money to attend the elite St. Elizabeth High School.

Part 1: A Way Out

     What am I doing here? To tell you the truth, I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life. It’s a Saturday night. You’d think I would be out partying, or with friends, or at least doing something worthwhile. Homework, maybe? But no. I’m sitting alone in my room, listening to music that I’m slightly embarrassed to admit is completely emo. Following the sad girl stereotype that I’ve cruelly thrusted upon myself, a book of self-composed poems is open on my lap.

     Every day, I try to write about my life, to make it sound poetic and meaningful. I write about my lack of friends. I write about the people I wish were my friends. I write about Daniel. I write about my parents and their expectations. I write about how hard my life is, even if I am a privileged white girl going to private school in Meadows, Nevada suburbia. I write and write, but I could honestly care less if my writing is bad or not. All that matters is that I’m writing, granted it is just a lot of bad poetry.

     My dream is to write professionally, but obviously this can never happen. As I have been repeatedly informed by my parents, writing is a passion pursued only by those who wish to make little to no earnings and die destitute and lonely. I think they forget sometimes who they are taking to. I’m Hope Miller, and if there is one thing I love more than writing, it’s proving people wrong.

     My dad wants me to be a lawyer, and maybe it’s because he knows I love arguing so much. They’ve always set me up so that I would have an easy time getting a job that pays top dollar. Everyone expects me to go to Harvard, or become some company owner. But I know I wasn’t born to do a typical desk job and raise my own white, suburban family. There are so many things I want to do, but my parents’s expectations are definitely standing in my way.

Today is the day I finally do something about it.

     My parents are out to dinner, and my sister is occupied in her room with one of the annoying brats she claims is her new best friend. This means I finally have a way out. My escape plan is simple: I take my mother’s stash of money hidden in the fake jelly jar, and I walk away. For the entirety of my fourteen pathetic years on earth, I’ve followed the rules that my parents, teachers, and peers have pressed upon me. No one would ever expect me to just disappear, but that is what I’m doing.

     You’re probably wondering where I’m even going. The obvious answers would be Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, or somewhere equally as fabulous, but I have something even better in mind: Portland, Oregon. Ever since my family went there on vacation, I’ve had somewhat of a secret obsession with that beautiful, emerald city. Just kidding. Would I really have such a pretentious destination? I’m going to Portland because they have the cheapest bus rates.

     Meadows, Nevada is a desert wasteland that borders Las Vegas and its famous strip of casinos. The trees are all either fake or imported, foreign people who can’t afford the steep Vegas hotel rates get wasted on street corners, and whenever an elusive rain does shower down, there are hundreds of car wrecks because desert people cannot drive on damp pavement. Its an accepted fact that desert people are all crazy because of the intense heat we have to bear in the summer, but most of the people in Meadows are just messed up, including yours truly.

     You wouldn’t guess it from the emotional sludge you’ve just read, but I’m considered pretty popular at my middle school, St. Meadows (Which, if your wondering, is named after the made-up patron of our city, but my guess is you don’t care). The only reason they like me is because I’m vaguely attractive and people find me funny for some reason I can’t comprehend. I’m not really close friends with anyone, though, because I don’t really see myself fitting in with those people. They like to pretend they’re high schoolers with moderate drinking problems, I don’t. It’s as simple as that. Basically, it’s my own fault that I’m so distant from any other people my age, but being alone is a better alternative to stunting my growth with stolen prescription drugs, so I mostly avoid the immaturity of my peers. My only real friend is my aforementioned sister, Megan, but sometimes she drives me up the wall, too. I would bring her along on my little detour, but I think she may squeal to the parents if I do.

     I’m only bringing a backpack with me. It has all the essentials that make up my world: my sweatshirt, a pair of jeans, two shirts, my diary, my phone and earphones, a copy of Jane Eyre, an umbrella, my camera, and my stolen cash. I should be all set.

     I quickly look into my sister’s room, making sure she’s occupied enough to ignore the squeaky opening of my window. I’m met with the awful wailing of Megan and her friend attempting to sing along to the radio, so I’m guessing I’m good. I run back into my room, and open my window. I cringe as the frame makes noises similar to that of a pig being slaughtered, and sigh in relief when Megan doesn’t come running.

     A few years back, my parents bought me a fire escape ladder that I could use to get out of the house in an emergency. I grab it from where it is stashed behind my dresser, and latch it to my window frame. The flimsy string of rope sways in the breeze, and a wave of nausea washes over me as I imagine falling two stories onto the ground. I quickly swallow my doubts and convince myself that the ladder is safe, even though my parents got it online. I make a mental note to sue eBay if I do end up falling to my death.

     Before I go, I should probably leave a note. I mean, that’s what they do in the movies. I pick up a pad of sticky notes from my desk and scribble a message for my family. “Don’t worry, I haven’t been kidnapped. I just need a break for a while. I’ll be back later. Don’t miss me too much. -H”. Sticking the note on the open window, I grab my bag and crawl down my escape ladder (without falling!!). When my feet hit the concrete, I felt suddenly lighter with the knowledge that I wasn’t going to have to go to court over that dumb ladder. I wasn’t yet out of my neighborhood, but I already felt free.

Passage from a note found in Locker #29 of St. Meadow Middle School

“To Hope: we graduate soon, and that means I won’t get to see you every day anymore. I wish there was a way for me to stop time so that I could stay with you here, in St. M’s. You’ll never get this note, but I still want you to know that you are meant to do amazing things. Don’t forget me. Love, Daniel”

Part 2: Daniel

     I walk out of my neighborhood and down the street for a while. According to my phone, the nearest bus station is only two miles away on foot, so it won’t take me too long to get there. I wonder if my parents are home, and if they’ve noticed I’m missing. They probably haven’t. I reach into my backpack and pull out my earphones. I turn on some music, then start running along the pavement. I want to be in Portland as soon as possible, so I’m trying to make the four o’ clock bus.

     Let me just say, Converse high tops are not exactly the ideal running shoes. My feet have already started to cramp a bit, but I just have to keep pushing forward. I stay with the beat of the music, then soon forgot about the pain in my feet altogether. Time seems to stop for a minute. The sooty clouds freeze in the sky, and the hot air hangs like a veil around my face. I blink and suddenly I’m at the bus stop. Maybe joining the cross country team wasn’t such a bad decision after all.

      I check my phone clock. Five minutes early! Breathing heavily, I walk quickly up to the kiosk to purchase my ticket to Portland. I did my research ahead of time, so I pull out $89 and hand it to the greasy cashier. He takes my mom’s stolen money, and gives me a crumpled bus ticket in return. I could hardly contain my excitement upon receiving that ticket. Walking away from the kiosk, I did a little happy dance. Going on this adventure is something that Daniel would have loved to see me do.

     Thinking about him still hurts me. Before we’d graduated from St. Meadows, he and I had been best friends. Our lockers, #28 and #29, were right next to each other, and I sat by him in every class. I’m young, but I think I loved him. Obviously, he only thought of me as his best friend, so I never let him know my true feelings. I mean, you’ve seen every movie made in the nineties. Yeah, the budding romance of two pubescent fourteen year olds is definitely the stuff of dreams.

      But honestly, I don’t even really know how to describe what I felt when I graduated, knowing I’d never see him again after he went to boarding school. I mean, he was my best friend. Most of my crappy poems are about him, and I always remember his quirks when I see the pictures I took of him.

     As I wait for the bus, I pull out my copy of Jane Eyre. Pictures are stuffed into every other page, and I flip through them until I find the one I‘m looking for. Daniel’s green eyes and laughing smile stare back at me. One of his thin arms was draped around my shoulders, and the other held up the camera. We both looked so happy.

     I was startled out of my reverie by the hissing sound of the bus. It’s plexiglass doors gaped open like a mouth, and suddenly, twangs of fear ran through my heart. I had always been such a rule follower. Who did I think I was, running away from home like this? I glance back down at myself and Daniel in the flat plane of the picture, and tell myself that this trip is going to be amazing. This is my chance to finally change my life!

I stuff the photo back into my backpack and dash into the bus as the doors are closing. The bus is almost completely empty, except for a woman in a business suit and a boy who looks around my age, maybe a few years older. Looking around, I decide to sit towards the back, nearest to the boy. I move confidently, hoping no one notices the trembling in my steps. Suddenly exhausted, I collapse into a seat and stare out the window.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART THREE: THE POETRY BOOK

I thought the sun was bright, until I saw her.

Well, not her specifically, but the golden heart around her wrist. It was a beautiful Tiffany bracelet, as I would come to know, and it's owner was a girl with the ironic name of Tiffany.

I entered English class just like any other day of my normal high school life, but after I sat down, she entered after me. Immediately, the room got ten shades brighter. It was like someone opened a window, or knocked the ceiling off of the school.

And of course, there was the bracelet.

I couldn't stop staring at it. It's rich glow perfectly matched her shining blonde hair. When the teacher introduced her to us, I could only stare in awe. How could I be so lucky as to experience an angel on earth?

I know what you're thinking: this girl was nothing but a cliche. Maybe you're right. But at the time, how could I have known? I was so drawn to her warmth, her easy laugh when the teacher made a joke, the way her golden heart dangled as she raised her hand. She may as well have cut me open and stuffed me with summer air.

As soon as class ended, I hurried to introduce myself. Standing next to her was like being wrapped in a warm blanket. I mentioned her bracelet, and she told me it was from Tiffany. When I laughed, Tiffany joined me. She looked into my eyes and asked if I could show her around the school. With a face like hers, how could I say no?

I spent the day introducing the sun to the minor planets in our school's galaxy. With the way they all gravitated toward Tiffany, I knew my time was limited. How can a meteorite compare to the center of the galaxy?

At the end of the day, I almost ran to the lockers where I had told Tiffany to meet me. I was going to walk her home so she wouldn't be lost in her new town.

For some reason, I thought we had a connection. After only one day of having her in my life, I wrongly assumed that she was mine. There is no way to catch a honey-yellow canary once it has flown off. Why did I expect that I could?

I rounded the corner, and suddenly turned to ice. A football player had her in his arms against the lockers. She giggled, and a bubble of warmth grew around them. I wasn't in it. Icicles grew inside my heart, mercilessly piercing it. I knew better than to get involved in something like this, and yet I still did.

They broke apart for a moment and she turned and looked at me. I ran. Far, far away from the summer breezes, yellow wings, and sunshine galaxies. I ran with the image of a golden heart burned into my mind.

One day, two months, three years run dry

The ground is black without rain from the sky

My mouth a cage for words I can't speak

Thin streams of tears roll on my dusty cheek

I still look for you, near and far

As my worn hopes and dreams turn into tar

Your eyes I see in the burning sun

Shining over what I've become

Without your touch to give me life

An absence of hope causes great strife

Water runs as slow as feeling

Tearing holes and denying healing

But letting go is hard like the dirt

A scorpion's bite inciting hurt

Faced with the option of death or dying

It is hard to live a life so trying

My heart denies the honest fact

That you are never coming back

No matter the drought or sun's relentless shine

I can always keep searching for what is mine

      As usual, I was already late for our family’s Thanksgiving lunch. The cars piling up on the road in front of me appeared to be stuck, as in a pit full of quicksand. Losing my patience, I angrily leaned on the car horn. I would be stuck in this traffic forever, it seemed.

     Finally, the cars began to inch forward like ants along a log, and I was on my way to my sister’s house. Megan’s place was the largest in the family, so by default she was forced to host Thanksgiving dinner every year. She had been married three—no, four— times, all to incredibly rich and important men who insisted on giving her lavish gifts, like her mansion, until she divorced them. Her curly blonde hair and emerald eyes gave a facade of innocence, but Megan could become vicious at the drop of a hat. I had to admit, she definitely had her ways of getting what she wanted.

     After another few minutes of driving through Megan’s expansive neighborhood, I finally rounded the corner to her street. At once, I was met with the harsh sound of alarms and the flashing lights of police cars. My stomach dropped. The cars were parked in front of Megan’s bricked mansion. What had happened to her? Was she okay? I pulled over and hopped out of my car, running full speed toward her manicured lawn.

     “Nicole! Thank God you’re finally here!” I was immediately intercepted by my mother, who clutched at my back. She held me away from her at arms length, inspecting the green sweater and jeans that I had thrown on in my rush to get here.

     “Dear, you know I hate when you’re late…” she whined, pushing my lanky brown hair off of my forehead.

     “Mom, this is really not the time. What is going on? Why are the police here? And is Megan okay?”

     Our heads whipped towards the sound of Megan wailing from the front porch. With the multitude of voices trying to be heard over each other, I could only catch snippets of her conversation with what appeared to be a police officer.

     “—swear I didn’t know! Paco never said—“

     “—Ma’am, I understand, but you’re still technically an accomplice—“

     Eyes wild, I turned back toward my mother, who had suddenly gone pale.

     “Mother, explain this, right now.”

     “Nicole, dear, compose yourself, and I’ll tell you.”

     I took a deep breath, then counted to ten. I was ready.

     “Well, it all started when your sister introduced us to her newest love interest, Paco…”

_____________________________________________________________________

     “Everyone, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Paco! We met while I was on vacation in Cuba.” Megan beamed widely as she pulled Paco in front of the table for everyone to see. Paco was dressed in khakis and a Hawaiian shirt, and squirmed uncomfortably in front of the prying eyes of the family. In broken English, Paco greeted everyone, then awkwardly sat down next to Megan’s mother. Megan remained standing, playing the part of the attentive hostess.

     “Anyone need some snacks? The turkey will be ready in a few minutes.”

     The family chattered lightly with each other, catching each other up on what had happened in the past year and kindly complimenting Megan’s house.

     “I wonder where Nicole is? She wouldn’t miss Thanksgiving, would she?” Megan asked.

     “No,” her mother answered her. “You know Nicole, she shows up just in time for the food.” Megan’s mother suddenly turned toward Paco, who had been fiddling with the cheese platter that Megan set out.

     “So Paco, I hear you’re from Cuba. What exactly do you do down there?”

     Paco stiffened, looking at Megan for support.

     “Don’t be shy, dear, you’re almost a part of this family now.”

     Glancing one last time at his girlfriend, Paco finally answered, “Well, I guess you could say I work in the, uh, what is the word? Pharmaceutical industry.”

     “Well, that’s nice. I’m glad that you and Megan are so happy together.” Megan’s mother turned her attention to the kitchen. “Oops, Meg, I think your turkey is finished.”

Smoke was curling lightly from the oven. With a yelp, Megan ran toward it, brandishing an oven mitt. Suddenly, there was a pounding knock at the door. Megan’s green eyes, filled with anxiety, turned pleadingly toward her mother.

     “It’s fine, Megan, you worry about the turkey. I’ll get the door. It’s probably only Nicole anyway.”

     While Megan fanned the open oven with her mitt, her mother pranced to the door.

     “Hello, Nicole! We’ve been—“

     But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Nicole who was staring back at her. It was the ominous face of a police officer.

     “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside. We’ve obtained a search warrant for this property, and we are going to need to enter it. According to an anonymous tip, a wanted drug smuggler and his goods are being harbored in this house.”

     Brandishing a piece of paper, the officers charged into the house. Megan’s mother yelped, then promptly started screaming.

     “MEGAN! The police are in your home!”

     The guests started exclaiming and asking questions about what was going on, when Paco quickly stood up and put his hands in the air. The police were swift in handcuffing him and demanding to see where he was hiding the drugs. Megan stalked up to the nearest officer and demanded to know why her boyfriend was being taken into custody.

     “I’m sorry to inform you of this, ma’am, but your boyfriend is a wanted drug smuggler from Cuba. We’ve been after him for some time, and it appears he may have been using your house as a discreet location to store his drugs.”

     “But that’s impossible! Paco is completely innocent! He is the sweetest man I know!”

     “That may be the case, but you are still considered an accomplice to his crimes.”

     A loud crack followed by a creaking noise sounded from the corner of the room. Paco stood, still handcuffed, next to an officer who was pulling up a floorboard. Underneath was an open safe, revealing pounds of marijuana. The officers seized the drugs, then carted both Paco and his goods outside to their flashing cars.

     One officer stayed back and grabbed Megan, asking her to come to the car as well.

     “You can’t make me! I did nothing wrong! Paco never told me what he was doing. I had no way of knowing! Get your hands off of me!”

     “Ma’am, we are going to need to bring you in for routine questioning. As of right now, you are not in trouble, but you are still technically considered an accomplice. We just need you to cooperate…”

     Megan and the officer continued to fight, when a silver car pulled up.

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     “And that is when you arrived.” my mom finished, out of breath.

     “So, let me get this straight,” I began. “This whole time, Megan has been dating a Cuban drug lord and she didn’t even know?”

     “Well, he did say he worked in the pharmaceutical industry….”

     “MOTHER! Is Megan going to be okay?”

     “Of course she’ll be fine. They just need to question her a bit about how Paco was traveling around and where he had been. She’ll be released soon enough. As for Paco, I don’t think he’ll be getting out anytime soon.”

     “Well, in that case, I’m leaving.”

     Ignoring my mother’s calls about turkey, I charged back to my car. My sister’s revelation had shocked me so much, I didn’t think I could stand the inevitable family gossip that was bound to be spread without feeling nauseous. A night spent watching television and eating whatever leftovers I could find in my fridge sounded more my speed.

As I crossed back over the street I had just come from, I thought about Paco and Megan, and began to laugh. This had been the most bizarre Thanksgiving I had ever experienced. I would call Megan at prison and see how she was doing, and hopefully get some more details.