The Devil's Workshop

Cinderhouse returned from the back of the house with a spool of rough mailing twine. He set to work wrapping it around the unconscious body of the man in the chair.

“We should name him,” Jack said. “What shall we call him?”

“I’m sure he already has a name.”

“Had. He had a name, dear fly, when he was a simple worker. But we are going to do things to him and he will never return to that ordinary life he once led. Nor should he desire to. This is a new day for him. For us all. And he shall have a new name to go with the new day.”

“I asked you not to call me that.”

“What’s that?”

“I asked you not to refer to me as an insect anymore.”

“I didn’t realize I had.”

“Well, don’t do it again, please.” The bald man cocked his head to one side and seemed to think for a long moment before speaking again. “I’m fond of the name Fenn,” he said.

“Fenn?”

“For him.” Cinderhouse pointed at the bound man. “Isn’t Fenn a pretty name?”

“No. I don’t like it.”

“Well, I do.”

“I like the name Elizabeth,” Jack said.

“But he’s a man,” Cinderhouse said. “You can’t call a man Elizabeth.”

“I can and I have. His name is now Elizabeth.”

Cinderhouse shook his head, but he didn’t argue further. He returned to the work of tying Elizabeth to his chair. Jack was unhappy with the bald man’s attitude. There was entirely too much arguing going on.

“What did you say,” Jack said, “that you used to do before you were in prison?”

“I was a tailor,” Cinderhouse said.

“Fascinating,” Jack said. “And how close in size do you think I am to Elizabeth?”

Cinderhouse sized them both up expertly with his eyes. “You are taller than he is, and I would guess that you were once a very large man, but you’re quite thin now. Still, I think I could let out his hems and cuffs and get his suits to match you well enough.”

“But I’m not interested in ‘well enough.’ I want to look every bit as dashing as I did before those evil men got hold of me.”

“I can make you look good. That’s a thing I do well.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jack said. “And it appears you’ve got our boy good and fastened down. Be a good fellow and come here a moment.”

Cinderhouse narrowed his eyes, but put down the nearly empty wooden spool that had held the twine. He cautiously approached Jack, walking very slowly. Jack became impatient.

“You are becoming entirely too insolent,” Jack said. “I’m afraid I shall have to punish you now. Please remember, I do this out of love.”