He looks uncomfortable for a moment, but then his facesmooths out. “The who isn’t part of the story because it’s not important. What is important is what happens after she’s created.”
I kind of want to argue with him. Not that I want to get the teacher of my very first class at Anaximander’s angry with me, but it seems like who created Pandora is an important question. Of course, before I can work up my nerve to say that, Rhea jumps back in.
“Zeus had Pandora created out of clay to punish Prometheus and his creation—mankind. To help with the punishment, all the gods gave her gifts,” she tells the class. “Aphrodite gave her charm and grace. Athena gave her the ability to weave beautiful clothes. Poseidon gave her a pearl necklace that kept her from drowning, and Zeus gave her the gift of endless curiosity and a box that he warned her never to open. And then he offered her to Prometheus as a wife, and that’s what got us here.”
“Not exactly,” I remind her. “After being chained to a rock for a gazillion years, Prometheus wasn’t exactly keen on a gift from any god, let alone Zeus. So he refused Pandora and told his brother to do the same. But Epimetheus was blinded by her beauty, so he agreed to marry her. And they lived together happily until, one day, her curiosity got the better of her and she opened the box. She let out seven evils into the world, but she closed the box in time to trap hope inside so that humans would always have hope.”
Even as I say the words, they leave a bad taste in my mouth, though I don’t know why. I’ve read this story dozensof times and never felt bad for Pandora. Until now.
“That’s not fair,” I whisper as I try to sort things out in my head.
Dr. Minthe’s eyebrows shoot up. “What’s not fair, Penelope?”
I start to shake my head, to tell him never mind. But I can’t do that. Not when something isthisnot right. How have I never thought of it like this before?
“Why do we blame Pandora for all the bad stuff in the world?”
“Because she opened the box,” one of the other students who I don’t know yet says.
“That’s not a good enough reason. Her whole purpose for existing was to open that box,” I tell her. “She never had a choice.”
“Sure she did,” Atlas interjects. “Zeus told her not to and she did anyway. It may not be completely her fault, but she isn’t blameless.”
“I kind of think she is.” Again, Fifi sounds much quieter than I’m used to. But her eyes are spitting fire at Atlas as she argues, “They made her curious and then told her not to open something. How is that her fault?”
“So what you’re saying is no one is responsible for their own actions?” Dr. Minthe prods.
Fifi looks embarrassed as she shrugs. “I didn’t say that.”
“None of us did,” I jump in to help her. “But it sure seems like the deck was stacked against Pandora all along.”
As soon as I say that, an image flashes into my head ofthe mosaic on the rooftop last night. Tiles move around, sliding in and out of place so fast I barely notice it’s happening. Just as quickly, a picture begins to form, of—
“Those are very good insights, girls.” Dr. Minthe smiles at us before turning to the rest of the class. “Actually, this whole discussion has been excellent. Which brings me to the activity portion of the class.”
And just like that, the mosaic—and the picture it was trying to form for me—disappears.
30.Did Somebody Say Pan-Door-A
I TRY TO HOLD ONto it, try to grab it back, try to figure out what I was seeing. But it’s gone completely.
Which makes me think I must have imagined it, just like I did with the tiles last night. Because centuries-old mosaics don’t move and they definitely don’t show pictures that aren’t there.
Do they?
Suddenly I’m not so sure. But before I can think any more about what’s happening in my brain, Dr. Minthe starts explaining our first assignment.
“As this is your very first Myths and Civic Duty class, we will spend much of our time exploring myths and responsibility—both personally and as a society. Some of you have already shown an incredible civic-mindedness—”
He pauses for a moment and looks directly at me beforecontinuing, “While others have shown a deep desire for self-preservation.”
This time he’s looking at Rhea and her siblings, all of whom shift uncomfortably under his stare. “Neither of those things are good or bad on their face,” he adds. “But both can be injurious if allowed to flourish without boundaries. In this class, we’ll be exploring those boundaries as we explore various myths important to our belief system. And since the faculty has chosen Pandora’s box to be the myth of the year, I thought it fitting to start the semester with it.”
“I thought we just covered it,” Rhea calls out.
“Ah, yes, of course we did,” he acknowledges as he steps away. “But now it’s time for all of you to explore it in small groups. I think it will give you a little more understanding of Pandora’s situation, as well as help set the groundwork for this year’s competition.”
The word “competition” has me standing up straighter as everything inside me goes on high alert. “What are we competing for?”
