The drive back seemed to take forever, despite the fact that they hadn't traveled very far. The little red automobile zipped down the roads, hugging the curves until the rooftops of the town came into view. Edward sped them along until they entered the outskirts, dropping his speed to a more calm level once the road became street. Maggie sensed the excitement in him, which merely mirrored her own.

They might actually get that box open!

He pulled back into the same space as before and as two car doors opened and slammed in unison, they simultaneously exited the vehicle.  They ran together up to their room and flung open the door. The box was sitting right where they left it. Maggie picked it up and turned to him.

“Shall we try it here or down in the tavern?"

“I say down in the tavern. I think everyone here deserves to see what they have been protecting all of these years."

“Are you saying you know what this is?"

“Hell no! But don't you think they would be interested, seeing as this thing has been under their roof for who-knows-how-long."

“You have a point. Let's go!"

Once outside and as they passed the car, Maggie retrieved their basket.

“We might as well snack while we figure this out."

 They entered the tavern, found a seat in the corner, and then asked for the barmaid. The girl they asked knit her eyebrows and shook her head.

“Who?"

“The older lady."

“Elise?"

“Is that her name?"

“There is an older lady who occasionally works here, but she has been sick these past few days. As far as I know she is still home in bed."

“But we've talked with a lady over the past few days. Who was that?"

“I have no idea. I'm just back in myself."

Edward frowned. “Can we talk with  Reynard please?"

“Sure, if you like." She turned and walked into the back.

Maggie whispered to him. “What the hell? Who was that lady?"

“I don't know, but I'm hoping he does."

Reynard was as confused as they were.

“Marie told me you were asking about Elise. I assumed she was feeling better and had been pattering about doing those things she is prone to doing. But I made a quick call and she has been home for a week."

“So was that lady…you know...Lily?"

The old Belgian shrugged. “It's possible. But to look like someone else is a pretty neat trick."

Maggie was pulling on her ear as she thought. “So this lady looked like this Elise?"

“I thought it was Elise. She sounded and acted just like her." Reynard fell into deep thought.

Edward followed his train of thought. “If it was her, then once more I have to ask; why didn't she just say so?"

Maggie tapped the box. “Because we were to find this?"

“Still, we have no idea what's inside."

“She said she didn't know either. You'd have thought she'd be curious enough to stick around and find out."

“The logic doesn't follow. She had the key. She could have gotten it out anytime she wanted to."

“True, but maybe she didn't know how to open it."

Edward growled under his breath. “I think…"

Maggie cut him off. “NO THINKING! Feel. What do you feel?"

He cracked his knuckles. “I…feel…that we need to open this box."

“OK. Then go for it."

He thrummed his fingers on the table for a moment before moving to the brass ring. But before he could do anything, Reynard stopped him.

“What is this thing?"

“Oh right. You never heard that story." For the next ten minutes they caught him up on the details as best they were able. In the end he seemed a little put out, but his curiosity got the best of him.

“OK my friends; see what you can do."

Edward grabbed the ring and pulled up on it. It didn't budge. He twisted it and it moved easily enough, but still nothing happened. Then he got the idea of lining the ring up with the dark line running through it. Once it was in position he tried again to pull up on it again. This time it rose a few millimeters. He tried twisting it again and was rewarded with a tighter feel to the turns. And from inside a hollow clicking sound emanated with each revolution.

Maggie's eyes glowed.

“It's working!"

“But when do I stop turning?"

“I suppose you stop when it stops."

He shrugged with a bit of fatalism and continued turning the ring.  After a dozen turns it balked.

“I guess that's it. Now what?"

They waited for something to happen, but nothing did. Feeling impatient, Maggie leaned forward and pushed down on the ring. It snapped back down as it was before.  From inside a faint whirring sound sprang forth.

“It's working!"

“So it is," commented Reynard, “but what is it doing?"

Edward leaned back, then thought better of it and leaned forward to stare at the box. “I have no idea. We were pretty much directed to find this damn thing and we still have no clue what's inside."

“How long does it take before anything happens?"

“Again, I haven't a clue. I guess we'll all find out together."

“And this thing was in that old floor safe?" Reynard asked.

“Yep."

“Remarkable. I guess there was more than one reason this place fell into the right hands."

“Maybe so. I seem to see thinly veiled threads of conspiracy all about everything that is happening to us."

“Paranoid are you my friend?"

Maggie spoke for him. “He called it feeling edgy."

 Reynard laughed. “Paranoid is an acceptable word. There is often much that goes on outside of the periphery of our awareness. That doesn't mean it's all bad. I mean, can you tell me how water gets into the pipes of my wonderful kitchen? The process is undoubtedly complex, and yet how often do you think about it?"

“I can't say that I ever have."

“My precise point. You see, knowledge is power. Look at you now, feeling helpless against this device. And until it opens…if it opens, then you will be sitting here staring at it like it's going to do a trick and you don't want to miss it."

“I'm not that bad!"

“You had better be. That is what learning patience is all about. And yet, I don't think your attentiveness will affect the outcome. You have set something in motion that will come to fruition regardless of your gaze."

“Meaning?"

“Eat. Drink. Be merry. Don't stop living just to wait for a single thing." Then he smiled at Maggie. “Unless that one thing is your mate. They are always worth waiting for."

An hour went by, and in that time the basket's contents went from brimming to empty.  Bread crumbs littered the table and little smears of butter and jam were on the napkins. And through all of this the box just kept humming and clicking away, seeming to be totally engrossed in its own newfound resurrection.

After several hours the couple found themselves both sore of eye and backside and extremely bored. They were still excited to be on the verge of finding out what this object was and yet now it seemed as though the whole thing was some sort of complex joke. Edward had set the thing in motion, but now it might very well run forever, doing whatever it was that it did within the hidden confines of the polished wooden surface.

Reynaud came out several times to follow the progress of things, bringing with him when he did large mugs of beer. On the last of these trips he sat down with one for himself.

“I told you to relax. Have you even gone to the bathroom?"

“No."

“Then go, one at a time if you wish. Someone will be here I am sure, at the precise moment they need to be."

He remained seated while they went to relieve themselves, finding mirth in their eagerness to discover the nature of the device. He had no idea what it might be either, but his many years told him that whatever was inside was going to be there regardless of what went on outside of its periphery. However the young were impatient and despite the faint wisdom these two had, they had nothing compared to that held by their elders. But one learned wisdom, and this was just one of many steps in the process.

Of course, he too was curious. If this was truly the contents of that impossible-to-open safe in their room, then how came it to being there? It must have lain hidden a very long while, waiting for just the right person to acquire the dual ability of opening both the safe and the box. He hated to let it go, and yet, he knew better than to argue with fate. For fate had a name and it was a feminine one. This lady whom he had taken as being Elise might very well have been she who was to be respected above all others. And then again, it might not. Sometimes that was all the answer you got out of life.

No answer.

When the couple returned and took their seats, he sat in silence and observed them. In their faces was eagerness and youth, and he remembered being that young once. That was a long time ago. He wondered what trials they would face in their future. He pondered what direction their lives might take as the years passed them by. Life was unpredictable, for most creatures that is, and he for one would have it no other way. War and violence were not things to revel in, but they were also not boring.

Peace and quiet were boring, but they brought more happiness than the strife of conflict. He grunted to himself.  What would they ever know of conflict? Had they ever taken down a Messerschmitt in midair? Had they ever battled he who lived in the wetlands surrounding Dartmoor? No they had not. They would have their own problems to deal with. He mildly envied them. He, Reynard, was the foxiest of the Kludde clan, but he was getting on in years.  There might be still time to engage in a little rigorous fun, but he doubted that was ever going to be the case. Still, there was much unrest in the region as of late…

“Whatcha thinking?" asked Maggie.

He jumped a little. “Oh nothing much. Just reminiscing."

Edward set his hand on the box, sensing the minute vibrations going inside.  He looked up at their host and smiled. “Good, bad or indifferent?"

“All of the above and none of the above at the same time. Life is what you make of it. Though to be honest, I was thinking about how much I miss having some real excitement now and again. I hate war, but there is nothing that gets your blood going like a good conflict. You were fun to toy with my friend, but in the end, it wasn't real."

Maggie shuddered. “No thank you. We've been in enough trouble already. We don't need a war."

“Need a war?" Reynard asked incredulously. “No one needs war, but war often descends upon us regardless of our feelings towards it."

Edward pulled his fingertips from the wood. “So it would seem.  I can't say that I would enjoy such carnage. However, if you ask me when I'm angry, I might have a different story."

“That I can believe my friend. You are a formidable opponent. Blood lust is a very strong emotion that few understand. Pray that you never have to get involved in any such destruction, but if you do, all I can tell you is to let go of your emotions. There is little room for compassion in such things."

Maggie sniffed disdainfully. “I beg your pardon, but compassion is always a good thing to have around."

“Yes girl, I would like to agree…and yet no. There will be times when compassion might be your undoing. I do not wish to argue with you and so I will not. But just remember what you have done already, and ask yourself if I am not correct."

“I have; that is something we have discussed aplenty. I'll go so far as to agree with you that you occasionally have to make hard choices, but every one we have made has seemed like the right one."

"Then I envy you. But then, you are young. Just wait until you have to decide between what you love and what you are fighting for."

“They're one in the same!"

“Not always." But he refused to elaborate and the conversation fell to silence.

Except, that is, for a faint whirring.

And clicking.

Hours ticked by and still nothing happened. As the day passed into evening and then into night, the box carried on as if it was oblivious to the expectations of the folks gathered around the table. Some of Reynard's friends came, in part because it was their routine and in part because word of the curiosity had spread among them, but even as they came, they soon tired of watching it do nothing and they headed for the bar.

When the tavern closed, they were left alone in the dim light to wait out the box or take it to their room, whichever they desired.  Reynard only asked them to stick around and let him know the outcome.

“After all, you did find it in my inn. I hold no claim on it, but I am now very interested in what it turns out to be."

So were they. Still, as the time ticked away, even Maggie grew tired of waiting.

“Can we just go to bed?"

“I suppose so. Who knows when this thing will run out of steam?"

“Can't say for certain. I sure as hell have. I was so worked up for this and now I don't really care as much. Like he said; it'll be here when we're ready."

Edward picked it up and slid out of the seat. “Then to bed it is."

They closed the place up behind them and made their way to their room. The dark street seemed to reflect their present feelings, though of course the occasional streetlight threw off a glow that helped them find their way. Once inside, they tiredly climbed the stairs to their room. The box was set on the nightstand and they both got undressed and burrowed under the covers. Maggie snuggled in close and murmured in her best coquettish voice;

“Pour chercher ce qui est dans le cœur, se tourner vers la clé. Pour rechercher la clé, la tourner à ce qui est dans le cœur.“

 Edward kissed her on the cheek.  He knew and understood the phrase, but she was using it in a totally different way.

“I thought you were tired."

“No, I said I didn't care about waiting on that thing to do whatever it is that it does. You have the key to my desires you know."

“I know. Do you have more secrets that need unlocking?"

“Of course! I'm a woman aren't I?"

“That you are."

She paused. “You do think of me that way, don't you?"

He pulled her in close. “Are you still worried that I'm attracted to you simply because of your looks?"

“Could be."

“Well, that's only part of it."

“So looks have something to do with it?" she asked tersely.

“Of course they do. I'd be a liar to say otherwise and you know it. But I have found in you a soul mate. We fit together like, like…"

“A lock and key?"

 “Yes! Perfectly!"

“Yes, I think I agree. We mesh pretty darn well. So, a little manipulating of the tumblers is in order?" she asked hopefully.

He held a straight face for as long as he could. “Jeez, how corny can we get?"

“Oh do shut up and kiss me!"

He complied willingly, forgetting for the first time in almost two days about that infernal box.  Reynard was correct. The contents would be there when the time came.

 They exhausted themselves to no end, eventually falling asleep in a muddle of failed limbs and tangled sheets. As their light snores echoed about the room, the single minded ticking of the box kept time, punctuating their slight rasping with a monotonous metallic clicking and whirring. This went on for hours, right through sunrise and on and on and on.

And then, without warning or fanfare, it stopped.

When they awoke in the morning it was still in a tangled mess of arms, legs and fine cotton sheets. Maggie was gazing into his face as he regained consciousness, wrinkling up her nose as he yawned and tried to stretch. Sadly for him (or not!) he was rather restricted at the moment.

“Morning!" he replied with a yawn.

“Yes it is. Did you sleep well?" she asked.

“Well enough. I had some weird dreams about…" He tried to sit bolt upright in bed. “The box!"

“It's still here and sadly, it's stopped ticking."

He strained to see it from his prone position on the bed. “Did anything happen?"

“Outside of it stopping, not from the looks of it."

“Shit! What the hell is that thing? Just some sort of tease?"

“Relax. If nothing else we'll wind it up again and see what happens. It is old after all. It might be a little rusty after being packed away for what; maybe centuries?"

Edward set his head back down on the bed. “I don't like it. I think we should just leave it here and go on without it."

“Now you sound petulant. It's just a thing and not a person. Who can say what it was meant to be or do?"

“The lady, that's who. She somehow got us here and now what? We're stumbling around trying to find an answer to a question we didn't even possess when we arrived here."

“I think we will have plenty more of that before our lives are done. Relax. The box is going nowhere and at the moment neither are we, not until we get sorted out from the mess we're in. Last night was fun, but I think we need to get up now. "

She was right. It took them a moment to get extricated from the tangled knot the covers had become. In the process, they bumped the nightstand and in doing so, jiggled the box. A small space appeared a few centimeters below the top.

“Look!"

He picked it up and pulled on the ring. The lid (for that's what it was) pulled up and away from the rest of it. It was attached with minute brass hinges on one side and a series of now empty hooks of the other, and with it out of the way exposed for the first time the secret contents.  They looked in with undo excitement only to be rewarded with total disappointment. From what they could see, the interior was nothing more than a mass of gears, springss and more gears.

 “What the hell is all this all about?"

“I don't know. I mean, it looks like the inside of a clock, but this has no meaning whatsoever."

They held it in the morning light by the window for a better look at the interior. Maggie spied a plate on the inside wall. It contained a hand engraved name, but instead of the maker's it held another.

Pandora.