The Ill-mannered Door (humorous sci-fi)

16: Isabella?

What was next for us ended up being exactly what Derek and I had feared: the rack.

The jailer had laughed with glee as he tied us down and began cranking up the tension. He was like a child at Christmas time playing with a new toy, and our screams only seemed to cause him to grin all the more.

As I lay there on the rack, feeling decidedly like a Stretch Armstrong doll, I couldn't help but think that if I managed to live through all of this, a rematch with Mrs. Jenkins was most definitely called for. With my newfound height, I felt reasonably sure that I could stuff that jump shot of hers. Perhaps even slam dunk, I thought, depending on how much longer the jailer was planning on stretching me.

After there had been a few significant pops in my back, I found that it felt better than it had in some time and the kink in my neck was gone. Not that I would recommend the rack to get rid of your neck kinks, especially since you can really only find them in medieval dungeons, but it was a nice surprise. An entire day or more of not being able to move your head, and then having to pivot your whole body just to see what's going on around you, is simply torturous. Personally, I prefer the rack.

Derek then moaned and mumbled, "Chfffnnn."

"Come again?"

"Chafing!" he shouted. "It's chafing my legs!"

"The running shorts not the best choice for today then?"

"They were a fine choice, Thomas, because I was running! And I would have been gone too, if not for you! Instead, I get to be here with you, and this horrible chafing!"

"Sorry about the chafing, and all the other unpleasantness, but I couldn't just run away and leave all of these people to die. It isn't right."

"It isn't right? You don't even know them," Derek groaned.

"It doesn't matter, Derek. They're people. I have no idea how that happened on a completely different planet, and why they're not green, or frightfully hairy, or something."

"I don't think you've really looked at our jailer..."

"Well, yes, he is quite hairy, I must say. Anyway, that's beside the point. My point is, they're worth saving. And, well, I've never felt this significant before," I admitted.

Derek stopped moaning and turned his head to look at me and said, "Significant?"

"Yes! We have a chance to make a difference here, Derek. We had the ear of the king. You know him, that... I can't call him Barry. It just doesn't sound kingly. Besides, he won't return my slippers, which isn't a very regal sort of behavior if you ask me."

"Well, he isn't much of a king," Derek said.

"At home, Derek, I'm just a professor teaching young minds. Well, trying to, anyway. I lecture, and I show my spiffy presentations. They really are smashing, you know, what with the little sweeping flourishes between slides and everything. A few students even pay attention. Those are the rare points of light that make you feel that perhaps you aren't just wasting your life after all. But most of them... Most just thumb at their phones or shop for shoes. Oh, and some sleep. I had almost forgotten about them."

"Shop for shoes?"

"Oh yes, one girl shopped for shoes on her laptop the entire term. Of course, it was reflected in her marks, which honestly seemed to surprise her for some reason. I often wonder about that one. I mean, how many pairs of shoes does one need? An entire term! Such a single-minded focus. I can only imagine what could be accomplished if we were able to harness minds like that for good..."

Derek moaned again and said, "I can't take this anymore! I have to get out of here!"

"Oh, come on now, this isn't so bad really," I said.