Pandora's Box, Part 21

Little Boy Blue was practising playing his horn in the stables, banished from the cottage by the other waifs and strays until he could create a more tuneful sound. Jack Horner lurked in the pigsty, pretending to sweep the dirty straw. He stopped and stared as a bedraggled, filthy man trailed past the wooden fence.

“Robert!” Jack Horner shouted. “There’s a stranger!”

Robert raised his head quickly, pausing his woodchopping, holding the axe high. “Who are you?” he said, gruffly. “What do you want here?”

“It’s me, Epimetheus,” the strange man rasped, holding onto the gate for support. “And who are you, friend? I’m sorry, but my eyesight is not what it once was.”

“I’m Robert.” He stared at Epimetheus, astonished. “Is it really you?”

“Robert? Ah, the oldest of the boys. I remember now. You’ve certainly grown in the last year or so.”

“Or you’ve shrunk,” said Robert bluntly. “I would hardly have known you in this sorry state.”

“Why is your hair so long and scruffy?” Little Boy Blue blurted out, ignoring Robert’s disapproving scowl. “Did you lose your comb?”

“Little Boy Blue, that’s rude,” reprimanded Robert, though secretly he agreed with the observation. What does Epimetheus mean by this unexpected, unwanted visit? he thought.

Epimetheus nodded, a trace of bitterness casting a shadow across his face. “I lost a great many things. I know I must look a terrible state, please pardon me. It could not be helped. Now could I trouble you for a drink? My throat is worn dry.”

Robert picked up a small pitcher next to his pile of logs and handed it to Epimetheus, who drank it down in one noisy gulp. He stepped towards the cottage, surprised when none of the waifs and strays moved to welcome him inside.

“My brothers,” he said, trying to smile. “I have walked for a very long time and come a very long way.”

“What for?” asked Jack Horner, frowning.

“Why, to see Aurora again and to see that all is well with her.”

Little Boy Blue began to speak again. “But she…”

Robert held out a large, rough hand to stop him. “Hush, Little Boy Blue.”

“She’s not… she’s not dead?” Epimetheus asked, gazing around with his pale, half-blinded eyes.

“No,” Robert answered. “She is alive and all is very well with her, now.”

“And may I see her?”

The other waif and strays peered out of the cottage window, their elfin faces alive with curiosity. One look at Robert’s stony face told them not to open the door.

“No,” Robert said. “She is not here.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s gone somewhere over the rainbow!” Little Boy Blue said. “And no-one knows how to get there except the locksmith.”

Jack Horner pushed him. “You were told not to say anything, idiot.”

“Stop it, the pair of you,” Robert ordered.

“The locksmith?” Epimetheus gave a short, pained laugh. “So that knave came here, after all, I should have known it. And what business is it of his where Aurora might be?” He scowled at Robert, bristling like an angry porcupine.

“He married Sylph, so he’s like a father to Aurora now,” said Jack Horner, creeping closer, enjoying the drama that stopped him from having to do chores.

“I drank wine at their wedding!” said Little Boy Blue. “And danced a jig.”

Epimetheus sighed. “It seems I missed an exciting chapter. May I congratulate Sylph?”

“No, she is not here either.” Robert began chopping the logs again, withdrawing his attention from the man, in the hope that he would soon be on his way. “There’s no excitement for you here, Epimetheus.”

Epimetheus felt the chill dismissal in the words and rage beat alongside his pained heartbeat. “I sense your hostility, Robert, but do not believe I deserve such rough treatment.”

“Is that so?” Robert eyed him coldly. “I’ll remind you of the facts then: Last time you came, you brought the wrath of the queen to this door, almost resulting in Aurora and Sylph being killed! Leave us alone, Epimetheus.”

“But I must see Aurora.”

“You’ll never see her again,” Robert said. “None of us brothers can, only Sylph and the locksmith. Aurora and Tom have to hide away from the wicked queen all their lives.”

“Aurora … and Tom?” Epimetheus’s tongue stumbled over the phrase.

“They let me play my horn at their wedding,” Little Boy Blue squealed, throwing caution to the wind.

“It was awful,” groaned Jack Horner.

“Their wedding?” Epimetheus looked stricken.

“And they’re having a baby!” Little Boy Blue was unstoppable now. “A crow passed by with its young and Sylph said it was a sure sign Aurora was having a baby.”

“A crow?” Epimetheus knelt before the young boy, tears falling freely down his gaunt cheeks. “Tell me more about this baby. Ah, how I wish I had been a father.” 

Robert rubbed his nose, embarrassed at the blatant emotion on the older man’s face. It was unseemly and it was time this pathetic scene came to an end.

“I must ask you to leave now, Epimetheus,” he said, gruffly yet with a kindly undertone. “We all have chores to do. Aurora is safe and happy, and there is nothing here for you.”

Epimetheus rose, stumbling out into the woods as if pricked by nettles, his heart cracked in two. He staggered through thickets, over brambles and gnarled tree roots that twisted under his weary feet, until at long last, he arrived at a cliff edge, with black waves calling his name far below. Epimetheus peered down to the rocks erupting from the sea’s foam. Hopeless, and fatigued beyond rational thought, Epimetheus raised his face to the gods, opened his arms wide, closed his eyes on the world and tipped forward, diving downwards to the ocean below.

A pod of dolphins shimmered past, glistening in the sunlight, Hope riding on their smooth backs. She collected Epimetheus in her generous arms, and they rode the waves to his homeland, far, far away.

Epimetheus gazed up at the sun, his tears drying in the wind as the Greek shoreline beckoned. Thoughts of his brother, Prometheus, tumbled across his mind once more, and he urged the dolphins to swim faster, longing to save his brother and live in harmony forever more, at home.

“Prometheus, I am coming!” he cried.

Birds screeched a welcome, as the dolphins deposited Epimetheus onto the golden sands, laying him down as gently as a mother would.