Chapter 3
Returning to Pandora's hair, Dr. Verus felt as drawn to this girl as he would with his living patients—if not more. Straightening a long lock of hair well past her shoulders, he turned to Dr. Galen and said, "As for your first question, or should I say riddle, of how a person is measured, I could measure the actual length of this hair, but what would it tell me? Nothing."
Smiling, Dr. Galen briefly met her junior's gaze before turning on the hair dryer, carefully tending to Pandora's hair.
They proceeded to finish the drying with towel and machine until the full volume had returned to Pandora's hair. As Dr. Verus combed the hair into uniform strands, Dr. Galen applied the curling iron. Together, the two medical professionals progressed until they had found the desired effect.
Stepping back, Dr. Verus smiled. "That's closer to what I remember of Pandora."
"She must have loved her hair." Dr. Galen unplugged the iron. "It would have needed a lot of maintenance."
The young doctor's face became solemn as he continued to stare at the body. "Huh?"
"What?"
"We're still missing something?"
"I'm fairly certain that the embalming is complete. I've done enough of them."
Dr. Verus shook his head. "Not that. My gut tells me that we are missing something significant."
Circling the table, Dr. Galen visually glanced at Pandora with a confused look. "Like what?"
"I don't know." The young doctor bit his lip.
"Take a break and go for a walk. Maybe it will come to you. We'll finish when you get back."
The resident snapped his fingers. "What I'm trying to remember is in her interview. Did you watch hers?"
Dr. Galen subtly shook her head. "I only read their histories and bios. Watching the videos would make my work even more unbearable."
"Would you mind if we pull up hers on the computer?"
The senior doctor hesitated, but said, "Go ahead, if your instincts think it's important."
"It is. I know it." Dr. Verus took the computer tablet from the desk and promptly found Pandora's interview with Caesar Flickerman. The doctor stood next to his colleague and pressed play.
On the video, Caesar and Pandora sit upon a stage before a large audience. Caesar appears relaxed as normal. With head upright and shoulders straight, Pandora wears a flowing red dress with her long curly black hair draping over her bare shoulders.
"The barn has to be a couple stories high," says a jovial Caesar pats his knee. "I'm glad you didn't hurt yourself. Pandora, they say you have quite the throwing arm."
"I do. My father taught me how to throw a fastball."
"Do you throw overhand?"
Caught up in the excitement of being center stage, Pandora skirts forward on her chair and smiles warmly at her host. "Is there any other way?"
"What about softball?"
"I've always preferred baseball. I have an old baseball glove that was passed down to me from my grandfather. I'd give anything to play catch with my father one more time."
This heartfelt confession causes the audience to murmur.
Gently guiding the mood of the interview, Caesar promptly changes the subject. "So Pandora, what else do you enjoy doing in District Nine?"
"Well Caesar, when I'm not throwing like a boy, I make dolls like a girl with my grandma. We make them out of straw. My grandma can also make them out of cornhusks, but that's more complicated."
Dr. Galen moved closer to her colleague, peering closer at the tablet screen. "She had a rich voice. She sounds much older."
Dr. Verus nodded. "True. She sounds…brave."
On the video, Caesar rubs his chin. "I apologize for my ignorance, but what exactly is a straw doll?"
Pandora smirks and says, "I can show you." She reaches into an inconspicuous pocket on the side of her dress and pulls out a small palm sized doll made of straw. She hands it to Caesar. "Since we are the grain district, we have plenty of straw to entertain ourselves with."
Inspecting the trinket, Caesar smiles. "It's lovely. I love how you used red thread to help hold the straw together." Caesar holds up the doll for the viewers, and the camera promptly switches to a close up.
Pausing the video playback, Dr. Verus began studying the doll filling the computer tablet screen.
Taking the tablet from the resident, Dr. Galen also inspected the image, gnawing her lip with growing focus. She turned to the young doctor and said, "Someone once told me that the tributes are allowed to carry one item from home into the arena." Passing the computer tablet to the resident, Dr. Galen crossed the room where Pandora's dirty, bloody clothes lay.
She began searching the pants, tossing them to the side when she found nothing. The doctor next searched the jacket and froze when her hand felt something in the left breast pocket. She carefully removed her hand to reveal the straw doll displayed in the paused video. Motionless, she stared at the tiny effigy. When Dr. Galen flipped the doll over, she gasped and turned, hiding her face from her colleague. Her arms lowered to her sides as her shoulders drooped forward; the woman inhaled deeply as she tried to keep her emotions checked.
Rushing to his mentor's side, Dr. Verus studied her face. "What's wrong?"
Without looking, Dr. Galen passed the doll to the resident. "The doll has a name."
Dr. Verus turned the doll over in his hand. He found that the torso had been wrapped with a strip of white clothe to form a small dress. Stitched in red thread across the cloth, tiny letters formed the word Hope. "It may not be a name. It could be a virtue."
"It doesn't matter." Dr. Galen approached the folding chairs and sat down with a great weight.
With care, the resident returned the doll to its owner, gently setting the straw figure upon Pandora's sternum. With a heavy heart, he returned to his seat next to his mentor. From an unspoken obligation, the young doctor continued the playback of Pandora's interview.
On the video, the camera pans out two show Caesar and Pandora in the shot. Caesar again studies the doll. "This is lovely. You make these with your grandmother?"
Pandora beams. "Yes, we make them all the time to give to the little kids in our community. We don't have much in toys in District Nine. Making these dolls with my grandma will always be one of my fondest memories."
"That is very noble of you, young lady."
"During the fall festival, my entire family will work together to create a straw man as big as an actual person to burn in the center of town. It's to celebrate the autumn equinox."
"Indeed. That sounds absolutely fantastic." Caesar hands the doll back to Pandora. "Please tell me that you never burn these precious little dolls."
"We don't. Most of us, including me, consider them good luck." Pandora glances at the doll in her hand, and her smile begins to fade.
Before Caesar can intervene, the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the allotted time for the interview. Rising to his feet, the host says, "Well, please allow me to also wish you good luck. It was an absolute pleasure meeting you. Pandora Spiga, tribute from District Nine!" Hearing Caesar's signature words, the audience begin to shower host and tribute with respectful applause.
Seeing the flushness in his colleague's face, Dr. Verus promptly turned off the tablet computer. "Sorry if this has upset you."
Focusing across the room at concrete wall, the Dr. Galen inhaled deeply and said, "No. Your instincts were right. Is that doll what you were trying to remember?"
The man nodded. "It is."
"Then it's good we found it."
Motionless, the doctors sat quietly in reflection. With the only sound of a leaky faucet, the drips only appeared to grow louder as Dr. Galen's breathing deepened. With a shared understanding, the doctors wrapped clasped their consoling hands together.
After their much-needed respite, Dr. Galen reluctantly rose out of her chair. Wiping her eyes, she asked, "Can you fetch a coffin for Pandora? There should be a cart in the storage room."
"Sure." Dr. Verus stood, but froze with a thought. He turned to Dr. Galen. "What does everyone posses, rich or poor, that grows in value as we age? Can this thing be stolen or taken away."
With a faint smile, Dr. Galen replied, "For the sake of this riddle, no, but it can be lost."
"Medically lost?"
Dr. Galen pursed her lips in an attempt to hide her smirk.
Hemming, the young doctor passed through the double door into the storage room. When he returned, with one of the pine coffins on a rolling cart, he found Dr. Galen standing by Pandora.
When he rolled the coffin alongside the table, he noticed how the top of the coffin was perfectly level with the autopsy table, how everything had been streamlined with eerie precision. Realizing that most morgues were designed to process the dead efficiently, he removed the lid, thinking, But this is different.
From the cabinet, Dr. Galen fetched a white cotton sheet and began lining the coffin.
"The doll," exclaimed the young doctor. The man snatched the straw toy from atop Pandora's torso. "She mentioned that making these with her grandmother was one of her fondest mem..."
The female physician straightened as she studied her colleague's blank gaze. "Yes?"
Dr. Verus smiled with relief. "Memories. Everyone has memories; the good ones grow in value as we age. They can only be lost by disease, or death."
"Yes."
Following a large sigh of relief, Dr. Verus said, "People are measured by the memories they leave behind in others."
Nodding approvingly, Dr. Galen crossed her arms. "Yes. Those who are the most giving of themselves, spreading kindness, are the most fondly remembered."
Dr. Verus bit his lip as he shook his head in wonder. With a growing smile, he said, "And how are the dead raised? And with what kind of body do they come? They rise in our memories. The dead continue live through us, the living."
Taking the straw doll from the resident, Dr. Galen gently began rubbing her thumb across the stitching. "Yes. The dead will also rise again in the things that they loved doing."
Dr. Verus leaned against the table and asked, "Are memories a special focus of your neurological work?"
"No. Just an observation." The woman turned to Pandora. "Help me slide her in. I'll take the feet."
The young doctor stepped towards the head of the table when something caught his eye. "Wait. There's a blood stain on the side of her pajama bottoms, at the thigh."
Glancing over the body, the senior physician shrugged. "A drop of blood must have gotten on the table. The stain is small; I wouldn't worry about it. No one will notice."
Dr. Verus's face hardened. "No. She deserves clean pajamas. I'll pay for new bottoms."
Seeing the chief resident's stern expression, Dr. Galen nodded. "Okay. There are more in the cabinet."
After the doctors replaced the pajama bottoms, they carefully slid Pandora off the table into the coffin. When her body was in place and secured, they touched up her hair one last time.
Dr. Galen reached for the straw doll on the table and ran her thumb over the Hope lettering. "I should pin this to Pandora's pajama top so it doesn't get lost in transit." The doctor retrieved a pin from the cabinet and began fastening the doll to the pajamas, over Pandora's heart.
The young doctor mused openly, "The symbolism is inescapable."
With a heavy brow, the senior doctor nodded. "Yes. I know."
Moving to the foot of the coffin, Dr. Verus said, "I've always thought it odd that hope was trapped in Zeus's box of evils."
"First of all," retorted Dr. Galen, crossing her arms. "Pandora's box was actually a jar."
The resident's head bobbed in agreement as he began recalling his mythological studies.
"Second," continued the senior doctor, "some saw hope as one of the evils trapped in the jar, seen more as a false hope. The Greeks thought it delusional to sit around and hope that something would turn out for the best, to sit around hoping that someone else would solve their problems. But others scholars have thought that the jar was full of good, a pantry of good fortune for humans, but when Pandora looked inside and let all the good escape this world, all that remained for humanity was hope."
Dr. Verus rested his hands on his hips. "So, which hope are we returning today to District Nine with Pandora?"
Gnawing her lip, the Dr. Galen stared into the coffin. "I don't know. I became a doctor to ease suffering. I became one of the best, and yet, I'm powerless to end the monstrous crime being committed above us right now in a manmade arena. I'm not the one to ask."
The young doctor retrieved the coffin lid from the wall. "Whichever way you want to look at the myth, I believe that the hope within should match the rest of the contents. I choose to believe that we are sending back with Pandora the good variety of hope, to match the girl inside." Gently, he set the lid into to place.
Pausing to dry her eyes, Dr. Galen reached under the coffin's to retrieve a hammer and box of nails from the cart. "Could you?"
"Sure." Accepting the hammer and nails, Dr. Verus began preparing for the final task.
Dr. Galen pulled out her smartphone and said, "I'll inform the Peacekeepers that she's ready to be flown to the Capitol."
"Will her mentor be travelling with her, back to her district?"
"Don't know. If they do, they'll meet up with the coffin in the Capitol where it will be loaded onto the train."
The young doctor easily tapped the first nail into the pinewood. "Do these cheap coffins survive the trip?"
"They do. I have followed up with a few of the coffins. Once on the train, the employees, mostly from District Six, look after the coffins. They take good care of the fallen."
The man fastened another nail. "Good."
When Dr. Verus finished with the last nail, Dr. Galen removed a black marker pen from her pocket and wrote in large printed letters across the coffin lid: Pandora Spiga, District Nine.
As they waited for Pandora's coffin to be collect, the chief resident began wiping down the examination table, afterwards progressing to the other equipment. At the sink, the doctor poured the blood down the drain, rinsing the container and sink clean. Together, in silence, the two doctors began preparing the room for the next inescapable victim.
When two Peacekeepers entered the room with a stretcher, Dr. Galen watched with a careful eye as the guards gently transferred the coffin onto the stretcher.
As the Peacekeepers began to exit, one turned to the senior physician and said, "Doc, I think that you'll be busy tonight. The girl from District Seven has come out of hiding, and she's lethal, nothing like she was during the pregame. She just took out a Career. You should be getting official word soon."
The other Peacekeeper began pushing Pandora's coffin through the double doors. "I'm betting on this Joanna girl. She clearly knew how to divide and conquer those two patrolling Careers. I bet the other isn't going to make it back to their base camp. No way is he going to survive the night."
His cohort followed behind and asked, "What do you want to wager on it?"
As the double doors flapped back and forth, quickly becoming still, Dr. Galen's phone buzzed. Hesitating, she forced herself to read the message. "They're right. A hovercraft picked up a body minutes ago. It will be here shortly."
The chief resident turned to his mentor. "Dr. Galen, may I again assist you?"
The woman's chin lifted slightly, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled at the young doctor and said, "I'd appreciate that. I need the company."
"We should grab some dinner first. I'll buy to cover the pajama bottoms."
"I'll pass. The cafeteria food for the Peacekeepers is terrible. If you insist on buying me lunch, I'll wait until September, when you can take me to a nice restaurant."
With a confused look, Dr. Verus cleared his throat. "You're giving me the fellowship?"
"I am."
"Because of the riddles?"
"No." The corner of Dr. Galen's mouth twisted into a satisfied smile. "Pandora told me. She verified that you had the credentials I seek."
Dr. Verus starred for a moment in astonishment before nodding in gratitude. "I'm honored. I promise you, and Pandora, to always do my best."
"I know you will." Dr. Galen shook the young doctor's hand. "I'll meet you down in the cafeteria. I have something to do."
"Okay."
When Dr. Verus departed the room, Dr. Galen approached a small red box hanging on the wall, one used to collect hazardous hospital waste. With a heavy brow, the doctor removed from her pocket a capped medical syringe partially filled with blood, blood she had used to stain Pandora's pajamas, and said in whisper, "I'm so sorry for what happened to you."
Curling her fingers around the syringe, the doctor freely began to mourn. Gazing up at the ceiling with welling eyes, she said, "Thank you, dear child. Dr. Verus's benevolence was exactly what I had been seeking. He's a good doctor."
With a heavy sigh, Dr. Galen finally dropped the syringe into the box. "Peace be with you, Pandora. May the gifts you've bestowed to this world never be forgotten."