Young Frankenstein

by Gilbert Pearlman

"What's that clippety-clop?"

  "That's the horses."

  "Oh. Then we better walk from here."

  Igor halted the horses, and he and the doctor got down from the cart and proceeded on foot. As they got closer to the prison, they crouched low. In a flash of lightning, they saw a gallows, and, hanging from it, a body.

  "That's our man," the doctor whispered.

  "1 knew we'd find a body hanging around somewhere," Igor said.

  They heard voices.

  "I don't think that guy's quite dead-he's talking to himself," Igor said.

  "No-look!"

  There were two dark shapes moving about at the base of the gallows.

  "Somebody else has an experiment going," Igor said. "You don't suppose that was a lending library you got that book out of, do you?"

  "No-shhh!"

  The doctor and Igor hid themselves behind a large tree near the gallows and listened. They soon determined that the two men who were talking were grave-diggers and that they had been sent to take the body of the hanged man to the cemetery.

  "For now, all we can do is wait," the doctor whispered to Igor. "Then we'll follow them."

  "I don't think we'll be allowed to drive that cart in a funeral procession," Igor said.

  "Why not?"

  "The horses don't have any headlights to turn on."

  "Sh-sh-sh!"

  Waiting, they watched the gravediggers remove the body from the gallows and listened to their conversation.

  "Look at him swinging," the first gravedigger said disgustedly.

  The second gravedigger hummed a few bars, then broke into song. ". . . Ee's swing-ing in the rain . . ."

  The first gravedigger cuffed him. "Shut your filthy mouth, blasphemer!" he said. "Let's not forget: he had a mother."

  "Not this one. Ee 'ad no muver. Murderer, 'at's what ee was. Murderer!""

  "Never mind that. Let's get a move on. It's a long, cold ride to the cemetery."

  The gravediggers loaded the body into a crude wooden coffin and put the box aboard a wagon, then set off. As soon as they had gone, the doctor and Igor hurried back to their cart and horses. Soon, they, too, were on their way to the prison cemetery.

  The gravediggers were already at work when Dr. Frankenstein and Igor arrived. They hid behind a tombstone and watched as the men dug a hole, then lowered the coffin into it. The rain had stopped, but a chilling wind had risen. Waiting and watching, the doctor and the hunchback shivered in the cold.

  "I'm chilled to the bone," the doctor complained.

  "What about me," Igor replied. "I'm chilled to the bone for two."

  "Pardon?"

  "My hump," Igor explained.

  The doctor peered at him through the dimness. "What hump?"

  At last, the gravediggers completed the job and departed. When they were out of sight, the doctor and Igor emerged from hiding and began digging.

  "What a filthy job," the doctor said, when they were knee-deep in the grave.

  "Could be worse," Igor said.

  "How?"

  "Could start raining again."

  Lightning crashed. Once more, the rain came pouring down.

  "You and your big mouth!" the doctor said grimly.

  When the doctor and Igor had the coffin out of the ground, they loaded it onto the cart and covered it with a canvas, then headed back toward the castle. On the bumpy road the wooden box rattled around noisily.

  "It's a good thing everyone's asleep," the doctor said, as they approached the village. "That coffin is making enough noise to wake the dead."

  "You have a way of putting things," Igor said.

  They entered the village. On the rough cobblestone street the coffin bounced about even more. Halfway through the town, the cart struck a pothole, and the wooden box in back went sliding out and crashed to the ground.

  Dr. Frankenstein and Igor got down and surveyed the damage. The coffin was on the verge of falling apart. But, worse, an arm, very stiff, was protruding from one end. The doctor pushed the arm back in. The arm came popping back out.

  The doctor shrugged. "No big deal," he said.

  The two loaded the box back onto the cart and covered it again with the canvas. The arm, however, continued to protrude.

  "We better tie a red flag on it or we're going to get a ticket," Igor said.

  "I don't think that's-"

  The doctor was interrupted by a deep voice that come out of the darkness.

  "Need a hand?" the voice asked.

  Igor dived under the canvas.

  Turning, the doctor saw a town constable approaching. The man was smiling amiably. Quickly, the doctor backed up against the cart. He felt a very stiff arm slide between his own arm and his ribs. It stuck out as if it were the doctor's arm,

  "No, thank you, don't need a hand-have one," the doctor told the constable. "Thanks all the same."

  The constable looked at him speculatively. "I know everyone in this neighborhood, sir, but I've never seen your face before," he said. "Can you account for yourself?"

  "I'm Dr. Frederick Fronkonsteen, newly arrived from America."

  "Oh, yes," the constable said, his manner becoming amiable again. "I was told you were here. Well, I'm Constable Henry, sir. I'm pleased to meet you." He extended a hand.

  The stiff hand stretched forward and the Constable grasped it and shook it.

  "Very nice to meet you," the doctor said.

  The stiff arm retracted.

  "Pleasure," the constable said. "You look chilled, sir," he said. "A nice warm fire is what you want." He winked. "A nip from the old bottle wouldn't be a bad idea either, would it?"

  "Yes, yes, that would be the ticket."

  "Well, if you have everything in hand, I'll say goodnight to you."

  "Thank you very much."

  "At your service, sir-always," the constable said, saluting.

  The stiff arm flew up, returning the salute.

  "Good-night again, sir."

  "Good-night, Constable."

  When the man had gone, the doctor raised the canvas. Igor was there, still with a firm grip on the stiff arm.

  "Good work!" the doctor said.

  "I like to keep a hand in," Igor said modestly.

  The journey continued. When the doctor and Igor reached the castle, they lifted the coffin from the cart and carried it inside, then took it down to the laboratory. There, they removed the body from the wooden box and placed in on an operating table.

  "Magnificent," Dr. Frankenstein said, stepping back and viewing the body. "What an awesome sight!"

  "He's a big kid, all right," Igor agreed.

  "With such a specimen, all we need now is an equally magnificent brain."

  "I'm using mine," Igor said, backing away.

  "No-not you. Recently, according to the obits, there occurred the death of Dr. H. Delbruck. His brain is now on deposit in the Brain Depository." He put a hand on Igor's hump. "I want that brain."

  "This H. Delbruck, was he any good?" Igor asked.

  "Was he any good? He was the finest natural philosopher, internal diagnostician, and chemical therapist of this century."

  "How did he die?"

  "V.D.," the doctor replied sadly.

  "Bad break."

  "But I'm sure his brain is still capable of functioning," the doctor said. "You know what to do-hurry!"

  Igor started to leave.

  But Dr. Frankenstein grabbed hold of one of his hands, halting him. "Be very careful with that brain!"

  Igor indicated the hand that the doctor was gripping. "You can put your trust in that hand," he told him.

  Dr. Frankenstein released him. "Fly!" Igor darted away. As he did, the hand that the doctor had been holding struck a row of beakers that were sitting on a table and sent them crashing to the floor.

  Igor stopped and looked down at the scatter of shattered glass, then turned his eyes to the offending hand. He was silent and thoughtful for a second. Then, smiling once more he raised the other
hand. "This one, I meant," he said.

  "Git!" the doctor commanded.

  Igor got.

  When he had gone, the doctor began preparing for the operation. First on the schedule was an injection. Syringe in hand, Dr. Frankenstein approached the body -then hesitated.

  "Dare I bring such a monstrous creature back to life?" he asked himself, speaking aloud. "What havoc might I wreak upon this unsuspecting world?" For another moment, his countenance showed the indecision, then it passed. "Well, we'll take a chance," the doctor said.

  Raising the dead man's arm, he gave him the shot.

  As the body was getting its shot, Igor was arriving at the special section of the village hospital that was used for the storing of brains for future transplants. He read the wording on the frosted glass door:

  Brain Depository

  After 5:00 P.M.

  Slip Brains Through

  Slot in Door

  Igor reached under his cape and came up with a hairpin. Stooping, he inserted it into the lock in the door and twisted it expertly. There was a click. Igor straightened, put the hairpin back into his pocket, then opened the door and entered.

  Inside, he went exploring and soon found a shelf that held a number of glass jars. Each jar contained a brain and was labeled. Igor began reading the labels:

  AlbertusMagnus (Physicist)

  Cornelius Agrippa (Natural Philosopher)

  Lawrence Talbot (Hematologist)

  Then:

  Hans Delbruck (Scientist & Saint)

  Elated, Igor carefully lifted the glass jar containing the illustrious Hans Delbruck's brain from the shelf. As he turned to go, he suddenly found himself facing a weird-looking hunchback who was draped in a black cape. Startled, Igor dropped the glass jar. As he heard the crash, he realized, too late, that he had been frightened by his own image in a glass case. Igor looked down. There at his feet was Dr. Hans Delbruck's brain. In fact, it was not only there-it was there, and over there, and over there, and . . . Clearly, not all the king's horses, nor all the king's men, would ever be able to put it back together again.

  Tears came to Igor's eyes. "Funny thing is, I tried," he said contritely.

  There was no time for more tears, though. The doc tor was waiting. Quickly, he snatched another jar from the shelf. As he was hurrying toward the exit, he took a fast look at the label:

  Bo Not Use This Brain (Abnormal)

  A question passed fleetingly through Igor's mind. Who's to say who's abnormal? Then he tucked the jar under his cape and fled the Depository.

  Supine on the operating table was the hulk that resembled a man. Thick limbs, thick torso, thick neck, thick arms, stubby fingers. And the face! It was the face of a mindless monster, expressionless, the eyes deep and dormant in the sockets, the plasticlike flesh, the shaggy fringe of coarse black hair, the cruel mouth.

  "Hideous!" Inga said, trembling.

  Dr. Frankenstein shook his head, smiling beautifically. "He's beautiful," he said. "And he's mine."

  "I like the way he dresses," Igor said, feeling the hulk's rough tweed trousers. "Class. You don't get this kind of stuff off the rack."

  "Well, are we ready?" the doctor asked enthusiastically. "Igor-up to the roof. Let's get a move on!"

  Igor departed.

  When he had gone, the doctor began fussing over the patient, making sure that the steel straps that bound him to the table were tightly in place, straightening his tweed jacket, brushing down his hair, getting him as presentable-looking as possible.

  Before long, Igor appeared at the skylight, which had been opened to the night. "What now?" he called down.

  "The kites!" Dr. Frankenstein answered. "Get the kites in the air."

  "Check!"

  "Will it really work, Doctor?" Inga asked dubiously.

  "Why shouldn't it?" he replied. "Those are the best kites money could by."

  A few minutes later, Igor called down again. "Kites aloft!"

  "Perfect!"

  Igor shouted down once more. "Doctor, are you sure this is how it's done?"

  "Yes, yes," the doctor answered impatiently. "It's all in the notes. Now, tie off the kites and release the chains and get back down here as fast as you can!"

  "What's the hurry?" .

  "There's the possibility of electrocution!" Dr. Frankenstein told him. Then Igor suddenly disappeared from sight. "Igor!" he shouted. "Do you understand? There's the possibility-"

  "I understand," Igor said. He was standing beside the doctor. "Why are you shouting?"

  "I thought-Oh-Did you tie off the kites?"

  "Of course."

  "Good. Check the generator."

  Igor went to a machine, studied its gauges for a moment, nodded to himself, then began following an electrical cable that connected the machine to the body.

  "Can you imagine?" Dr. Frankenstein said to Inga. "That magnificent brain in this monster body."

  Igor winced.

  "Oh, Frederick," Inga said admiringly, "you're not only a great doctor, you're a great-You're almost a-"

  "A god?" he suggested.

  "Yes."

  "I know."

  There was a rumble of thunder.

  "This is the moment!" the doctor said excitedly. He got onto the table with the body. "All right," he said, "elevate me!"

  "Now?" Inga asked. "Right here?"

  "Yes! Raise the platform!"

  "Oh, the platform!" Inga said.

  Inga and Igor went to a giant wheel. With Igor pushing and Inga pulling, they began turning it. As it revolved, the table, with the doctor and the body aboard, started rising toward the skylight on a platform.

  Lightning crashed!

  Dr. Frankenstein, carried away, began to chant. "From that fateful day when stinking bits of slime first crawled from the sea and shouted to the cold stars-I am man!-our great dread has been the knowledge of our own mortality! But tonight we will hurl the gauntlet Science into the frightful face of Death! Tonight we shall ascend into the heavens; we shall mock the earthquake; we shall command the thunders and penetrate into the very womb of impervious nature herself!"

  "You're sure we can get all that done in one night?" Igor asked.

  "Yes, yes!" the doctor replied, as the platform rose higher and higher. "When I give the word, throw the switch!"

  "You got it, master."

  The platform carrying the doctor and the body penetrated the opening. At that moment, there was a clap of thunder and a crash of lightning and the rain came pouring down.

  "Go!" Dr. Frankenstein shouted.

  Igor threw the first switch!

  The laboratory came alive with arcing currents! They flashed, sizzled, exploded.

  The doctor, drenched, shouted down again from the platform. "Throw the second switch!"

  "This guy means business," Igor said to Inga. He threw the switch.

  Thunder!

  Lightning!

  Flashes of electrical current danced wildly about the laboratory!

  "The third switch!" the doctor bellowed from above.

  "Not the third switch!" Igor begged.

  "Throw it, I say! Throw it!"

  Igor engaged the third switch.

  From the platform, Dr. Frankenstein addressed the heavens. "Life! Life! Do you hear me! Give my creature life!"

  The answer came in a succession of lightning crashes!

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Boom! Boom!

  Dr. Frankenstein shouted down to Igor. "Everything off! Bring me down!"

  Swiftly, Igor disengaged the switches. Immediately, the thundering and lightning ceased and the rain stopped. The flashes of electrical current fizzled out.

  Igor and Inga hurried to the wheel and began turning it in the opposite direction, and down, down, down came the platform and the operating table and Dr. Frankenstein and the body. When the platform reached bottom, the doctor leaped off and snatched up a stethoscope and placed the receiver to the creature's chest. He list
ened intently. Then he sighed deeply and straightened.

  "Nothing," he said dismally.

  "Oh, Doctor!" Inga said, sharing his disappointment. "Well, at least we had the fireworks," Igor pointed out.

  Tears formed in the doctor's eyes. But they did not fall. He forced them back, regaining control. "We must be of good cheer," he said bravely. "If science teaches us anything, it teaches us to accept our failures as well as our successes . . . with quiet dignity and grace . . ." He looked sorrowfully at the lifeless body. The tears brimmed in his eyes again. He tried to hold them back. But this time he broke. Screeching, he grabbed the creature by the throat. "Son of a bitch bastard!" he raged. "What did you do to me!"

  "Doctor! No!" Inga pleaded. "Stop! You'll kill him!" Igor broke the doctor's hold on the creature's throat and dragged him away.

  Dr. Frankenstein continued to shriek. "I've failed! I don't want to live! Do you hear me! I do not want to live!"

  "Quiet dignity and grace . . ." Igor said to Inga, still struggling to get the doctor under control.

  As Dr. Frankenstein continued to rave in his quiet and dignified way, little did he know that not far away, a meeting was taking place that held considerable import for him. At the Village Hall, which served as a children's playroom during the day, the village elders had gathered. Being elders, they were dressed in an elderly manner, wearing elders' broad-brimmed black hats and elders' shiny black gabardine suits. The chairs they were seated on spoiled the effect somewhat, however. They were children's chairs.

  At the moment that Dr. Frankenstein was screaming his rage at the creature, the leading elder was screaming his denunciation at a lesser elder.

  "Bull scheisse!"

  "But it's true, sir," the lesser elder insisted. "They're doing it again."

  "Vicious rumors and superstition!" the leading elder snapped. "I will not have the townspeople getting all their old fears aroused because one or two of you 'thought' you heard something or 'thought' you saw something. Damn it, man, we'll have a riot on our hands."

  A second villager raised a hand.

  "Yes, Karl?"

  "Well, sir," Karl said, "I'm not superstitious and I'm not given to vague fears. But on my way home last night I saw what used to be the old laboratory all lit up."

  "Poppycock!" another villager said.

  "It weren't poppycock," Karl said. "It were real," He pointed to the man seated next to him. "William here was walking right beside me and he saw it, too."