The Devil's Workshop

II. Customer

The days that followed were once again filled with gossip and wishful thinking. Wives would blush and laugh shamelessly as they discussed what Mr. L could fix in their husbands; teachers would threaten reckless children about sending them into the workshop if they misbehaved; some men were seen scouting around the old cottage, but none of them ever made it in. The Devil himself, however, never made a second appearance.

As the chatter about the workshop quieted down, there remained a man whose curiosity did not dwindle. Quite the opposite, the more he thought about it, the more he felt the courage he needed to walk into the store. On the day he finally did, he was surprised to find that the shabby outside of the workshop did not match the tasteful interior. Inside he found carefully curated bookshelves with some books in his language, and some written in letters he could not begin to recognize. The wooden pillars supporting the cottage had interesting hand-made carvings which, he thought, must have cost a fortune. On the farthest corner of the room was a single chair next to the fireplace, and in the fireplace a cauldron.

Before he could peek inside the cauldron, he was called by name.

"Welcome, Mr. Lewis. How can I assist you today?"

Mr. Lewis was startled, but he made his way towards the counter with the bravest face he could muster.

"I don't quite know." He stammered honestly "Well... It's a bit of a silly matter, really. I'm not sure it could even be done..."

"It can be done." The Devil replied confidently "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well..." He took his hat off, revealing his shame.

The face was youthful for the forty-eight years it had seen, but his hair had betrayed him a long time ago.

"You see, back in my day I used to have a very healthy and full head of hair. All of the gals in town would blush whenever we'd cross eyes, and all of the guys would sigh with envy. Now... I fear not even my wife will look at me twice on a good day."

The Devil played with his beard as he pondered on the man's story

"I believe I may have just the thing for you, Mr. Lewis. A moment please."

Before Mr. Lewis could respond, the Devil turned around and searched a wooden chest. The chest was neither too tall nor too wide, but it felt to Mr. Lewis like the Devil could stretch his entire arm deep inside of it and maybe even more.

Eventually, and not without some effort, the Devil produced a beautiful glass bottle that contained a golden liquid. When he held it against the light, it generated a colorful shimmer that was hard to look away from.

"Three drops at midnight for three days." He said confidently "Make sure to spread it evenly on the top of your head, and on the fourth day you shall notice you've become more like your old self."

Mr. Lewis could barely find the words to ask for the price.

His wife would surely object to such a vain and self-centered purchase, but really, he figured, if the potion worked, then that would mean that she would come to have a more attractive husband. If anything, this was for her as much as it was for him, he told himself confidently.

"The potion is yours." the Devil interrupted his train of thought "Payment would only be necessary if you wished to revert the effects."

The man's heart leapt joyful at the sound of that. He wouldn't be needing to revert nothing, this was a steal.

The Devil offered the bottle, and Mr. Lewis reached for it.

***