Grampa gave a sharp, curt nod by the basement door near the kitchen as Regina finished eating the bland Cheerios, and led her downstairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, Regina shivered in the cement basement full of dust and old junk. Smelled like mildew.
Biting her lip and shivering, she followed her grandfather to his little workshop where he handed her a half-mask.
"Put it on." He instructed.
He watched Regina struggle with the straps and loops.
He sighed and adjusted them around her face until the mask fit properly.
Grampa opened a red Coleman toolbox with a sigh, old hands opening a lid and pulling out a smaller, flatter toolbox.
Tools.
Long, slender tools with different shaped blades were uncovered.
"I'm gonna teach ya how t'mae a pen, 'kay Reggie?"
Regina stayed silent, quietly digging her nails into the palm of her hand.
He handed her safety goggles.
"Yer sister an'I make 'em all th'time. We've won awards an'earned a few pretty pennies too."
"Why?" She asked, crossing her arms, always one for confrontation.
"A gal needs a hobby like a man needs breakfast." He answered. He had a way of talking, just from the corner of his mouth, a grisled way of answering questions one on one.
Regina watched him open a drawer and pull out two round pieces of wood with holes drilled in them. He grabbed glue and a spray bottle, and set them on the work table in front of them.
"Squeeze glue in, put these brass pieces here." He pulled out two slim tubes of brass with scratches all up and down them and placed them by the glue.
"How?"
"Yer kiddin', right?"
"No." Regina said. Initially, she'd planned on getting out of it the same way she'd gotten out of doing chores today, but she was being genuinely honest, then and now.
She just pushed that honesty a little too far.
Grampa showed her how on one piece of the wood, then made sure Regina followed along with the other.
He made sure she did, despite her struggles.
Grampa opened a palm and showed her little silver spacers and pointed at the spindle on the machine beside her and dropped one into her hand.
"Where am I supposed to put these?"
Grampa eyes her. "Life ain't a bunch o'handouts, Reggie."
Regina glared at him.
He cocked his head, making it clear how he felt, "Yer th'smart one, not me."
Regina rolled her eyes as he used her words upon arriving to this dump against her, and turned the metal piece in her hands, studying the scratches that revealed the silvery color under the black paint. She watched Eustace pull on a half mask with ease and spritz the wood blanks with a cocktail of chemicals. He put the glue and spray bottle back into their respective drawer and intently watched Regina.
Regina put the piece on the spindle of the machine and looked to him for approval.
Instead, he handed her a drill.
"Clean the barrel." He tightened the vice around the wood blanks and watched expectantly.
"Why?" She asked, already forgetting the willow wand smacks she'd received for insulting Grampa's prize-winning sausage last night.
"So you can make somethin'." Eustace grumbled, "Hurry it up, or I'll never get t'that job this afternoon."
Grumbling under the mask, Regina took the huge power drill. She glared at Eustace when he snickered at her for not expecting the weight and pulled the trigger.
She jumped at the whirring noise, and he chuckled again.
"Put it in." He said, "When it hits brass, yer good."
Regina pushed the trigger down, pressing the blade of the drillbit into the wood.
"That's good, that's good!" Eustace stopped her.
She looked at her grandfather, starting on the next piece.
He loosened the vice and handed her one of the cleaned pieces.
She looked at him.
He looked at her.
And then the puzzle came together. Eustace enjoyed the look in her blue eyes as they lit up, understanding this step.
Metal, wood, metal, wood, metal.
"What we do next is put the lathe together." Eustace pushed one side of the lathe into the spindle. It rattled on its tracks. "Tighten this side fer me, will ya?"
"How?" Regina asked.
"You ask too many questions, ya know that?" Eustace said.
Regina put her hand on a handle and pushed down, locking the lathe down.
"Now turn this wheel." He instructed.
She struggled with it, finally getting it tight enough to stay. Eustace put another handle down, reached around Regina, and turned the lathe on.
The mandrel began rotating, and with it, the wood pieces.
"Now, take this." He handed Regina a long, slender tool. "This is yer roughin' gouge, it gets everything smoothed out and ready fer shapn'."
Regina took it, and he showed her how to hold it against the brace, and soon, sawdust came flying off.
"This is why we wear masks and goggles!" He shouted over the engine, letting go.
The tool rattled against the wood. Regina stopped and shut off the engine.
"Great, looks like fun, have to do it sometime." As she turned to leave, Grampa grabbed the back of her collar and pulled her back over with, "Oh no ya don't!"
Regina groaned, wanting to go upstairs and read Cosmopolitan.
Eustace made sure she stayed put and continued.
"Here's yer skew." He said after a few rounds of criticism on Regina's form and how she handled the wood, all of which she didn't appreciate. "Makes lines and helps map out yer design."
When Regina didn't take it, he flipped the switch and looked down at her.
"If yer gonna be nasty, then you can leave." He said, "But we ain't payin' t'send ya back home t'Mama now."
Regina glared at him, wanting that very much.
Less than a month here, and she was ready to go back to her life among the upper elite and eat lunches of sushi and French caviar with mince pies and the finest of clothes by the likes of Coco Chanel and Givenchy.
But instead, she was down here, in a creepy basement wearing ugly sneakers, used jeans and a ratty t-shirt she stole out of a sister she'd never met's closet.
After finally making the pen pieces, Grampa finished commenting and lowered the speed. And he taught her to sand as the lathe rattled dully to itself.
Starting with the roughest grit, Regina watched a coarse grain build up. Next grain up, and she asked, "Does Dollface do this?"
"Yes, she does." He pulled out a pen from his worn jeans pocket and showed Regina a beautiful capped pen with a mirror bright polish.
It looked like glass.
"Won a prize at th'state fair fer this one last year." Eustace said, proud. "Got her onto it in third grade."
Knowing that she sounded like a broken record when Eustace handed her the next grit, she asked, "Why?"
"She was very angry." Eustace said, pursing his lips, "So I took her down here t'fix th'chair backin' she broke. How else was she 'sposed t'learn 'bout consequences?"
Regina studied her wood. "Doesn't seem the type." She said, taking the next scrap of sand paper from Eustace.
"She was real' mad 'bout yer daddy."
Regina lifted the paper, mask claustrophobic.
In his muffled voice, he continued, "She started noticin' everybody had one 'cept her. An' after that, we had to explain why we were raisin' her."
"I've never met Father." Regina said, wistfully. She stared at the flat grey wall behind the lathe, "I only see Mother once a year."
"Must be a sad life. 'Splains why they kept tryin' t'dump ya on us." Eustace said, "If I'd a'known, we would've insised on gettin' ya sooner instead of turnin' you away."
"Really?" Regina asked, suddenly hurt by how bluntly it was said, "They really wanted to get rid of me?"
"'Fraid so, babe'gurl." Grampa said, "They originally chose you 'cause you were the healthier one, while Dollface was stuck in an incubator."
Regina furrowed her brow as she touched the pen barrel's surface.
Smooth.
Like silk.
She didn't know she could do that.
Momentarily distracted, Regina watched the wood slowly rotate on the mandrel. She was brought back to reality by the popping lid of polyurethane Eustace was opening.
"Get'cher gloves on, we'll get'er done."
As Regina looked around, Eustace pointed with a stick heavily coated in finishes and paints at a box by her head. Regina turned and grabbed a pair of blue disposable gloves as Eustace put the stick into the can.
He stirred, "Dammet, it's gone coagulated."
Regina was surprised that someone who talked like that knew what 'coagulated' meant.
"When I was in college, I decided to take any class I could get. I was the first of my family to git an education, an' I'd be damned if I wasted it." Eustace said, "Same with yer grandmother. Our first few dates were out around campus t'git specimens for class. One time, I found a real nice eel, so we ended up usin' her nylons as a net an-"
"Grampa," Regina said, then got much quieter, "Why is Mother as good as dead here?"
Eustace got quiet as he soaked Regina's outstretched rag with polyurethane as he'd instructed earlier, and thought.
"I didn't really git much time with yer mother. Maymie was more Muriel's kid than she was mine, it seemed, since I was busy with Air Force and later on, Guard duty. It's easier on Dollface too, t'just let it be."
"Did Mother do this?"
"No. She was never interested. She liked books an'never really had much of an interest in much else." Eustace said. Regina looked at her grandfather. He started, "You ask a lot o'questions fer such a little lady. Now, I have a roofin' job in a few minutes an'Dollface'll be here any time now t'teach ya t'paint rooms."
Regina looked to the door outside and how light filtered in, making the dust seem like gold powder as Dollface approached in painter's white, hair pulled back and exposing the shaved parts of her head.
The jumpsuit was thin enough that Regina could just barely see Dollface's black bra in the sunshine.
"Get suited up." Eustace said, "She has a rehearsal this afternoon, and if you make her late t'this job, she'll be late t'that too."
Regina couldn't help but stare at her twin, who seemed so little like her, open the door.
Her dark, almond eyes set in an emotionless face scrubbed clean darted around the room. She mechanically approached them, and Regina could see something different.
Dollface wasn't pretty, she was handsome, and stronger than Regina could ever think of being.
"Reggie just finished this." Eustace said, stepping aside as Dollface came to stand at the lathe, "It'll be finished after supper."
Dollface grunted, showing her disinterest without words. She handed Regina a plastic wrapped suit like the one she was wearing that she'd bought last-minute from Haddonfield Hank's since Regina didn't have one.
Regina averted her eyes as she took it, deciding to swallow her pride just this once.