The Bell

A bell rang.

“Someone’s upstairs,” said Derek. “That must be Pozzo with my delivery. Will you lock up here?”

Of course, I would.

“Just put out all the torches,” Derek said, “and–”

“And double lock the door,” I said, “yes.” By then he was already halfway out the room. He was in the middle of climbing the stairs when he turned around: “and put that Thermock away,” he added, then stomped noisily upstairs, where Pozzo kept ringing the damn bell.

“Yes, yes,” I heard Derek say, his voice faint at the top of the stairs.

As for me, I turned to face the little creature in the jar, the little Devil known as Thermock.

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The Little Devil

“What a stupid idiot master Derek is,” said Thermock. She was in the middle of performing an enthusiastic set of jumping jacks.

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Finally, she tired of the activity. Pressing her back against the enchanted glass, she slid down as if she were melting, the flesh of her tiny buttocks flush against the wall of her transparent prison. Thermock sighed dramatically.

“It is so boring in here,” she said, “can you let me out?”

“I cannot,” I said.

“Why not,” she pouted.

“Because Derek has forbidden it,” I said simply.

Thermock got up. “What gives him the right,” she squeaked indignantly, first shaking glowing fists, then crossing her bright yellow arms.

“He has created you,” I said.

“So?” said Thermock, leaning into one of her tiny hips.

I tried to explain, “so it is only right that I obey him; that we both do, for that matter.” I lectured her gently but sternly. I wanted Thermock to understand.

“Pah!” said Thermock, thrusting her hands in the air with a flourish, then marching to the back of her jar like some kind of sulky runway model. “Derek doesn’t own us. We aren’t his things.”

I considered her words, then said, “Derek doesn’t consider us as things.” But looking at Thermock locked up in that little jar belied my sentiment, and a trickle of doubt seeped in.

Thermock leaped suddenly around.

“Put out the torches!” She yelled. “Get the lantern. Double lock the gods-bombit doors!”

A pit dropped in my stomach. Yes, the voice was high-piched and mousish, but there was no mistaking that impression. Thermock was doing an eerily accurate Derek.

“Are you saying,” I said, “that Derek asked me to put out the torches and double lock the doors because he considers me as nothing greater than a mere possession?”

“Oh,” Thermock continued, as though I hadn’t spoken, “and elephant boy? Be a good little servant and lock that yellow bitch up. I have important BUSINESS to take care of.”

It all felt very true.

Derek…why did you create me? Why, really?

My eyes welled with silent tears.

“What do you want?” I whispered.

“Let me out,” she whispered back. “Let me free. Me and Blueboy.”