Young Frankenstein

by Gilbert Pearlman

  "Rubbish," the doctor said, standing at the throwing position.

  "Well you might say. But this is Transylvania and you are a Frankenstein."

  The doctor threw a dart.

  It skidded along the top of the desk and stuck in the back of the high-backed swivel chair.

  He threw the second dart.

  It knocked over the decanter of port.

  Zing! went the third dart.

  It was a perfect shot, splitting the dart that the inspector had lodged in the portrait exactly in two.

  The doctor fired again.

  The dart plunged into the door behind him.

  "You seem upset by this discussion," the inspector said.

  "Not in the least. I find it extremely amusing." He glanced at the untouched dartboard. "Well, this was fun!" he said. "But, now, if you don't mind, inspector, I'm a little tired."

  "Yes, of course," the inspector said, moving toward the doorway. Then he paused. "I may give the villagers your complete assurance, then, that you have no interest whatsoever in carrying on in your grandfather's footsteps? Is that correct?"

  From the laboratory came a moan. "Mmmmmmmm-mmmmm . .."

  The doctor flinched.

  "Was that a yes?" the inspector asked.

  "Mmmmm," the doctor replied.

  "Very well," the inspector said, continuing toward the door.

  "You can find your way out, can't you?" the doctor said.

  "Oh, yes . . ." The inspector halted at the door. He removed the dart that was stuck in it, then turned and aimed it at the board, having one last throw.

  The dart went out an open window.

  "Too bad," Dr. Frankenstein said.

  "Just need to get my timing back," the inspector said, returning. He began picking up the darts from where they had landed when the doctor threw them.

  Dr. Frankenstein yawned pointedly.

  "Yes, I'm going," the inspector said. He tossed the second dart.

  It, too, went out the window.

  He hurled a third dart.

  If the window had been the target, he would have scored a bull's-eye.

  "One last fling," the inspector said, sending the final dart sailing.

  Out the window.

  "You know, I suspect it isn't my timing, it's your darts," the inspector said, stomping toward the doorway.

  "They're the best money can-" Dr. Frankenstein began.

  But the inspector was gone.

  The doctor went to the window and looked out, hoping to be able to locate the darts. They were nowhere in sight. What he did see, after a few moments, however, was the inspector exiting from the castle. He also saw the inspector's automobile. And the inspector's automobile's tires. The tires, all four, were completely flat.

  Dr. Frankenstein withdrew. A few minutes later, he heard the inspector leaving. Rather, he heard the inspector's automobile's tires leaving.

  Floppity . . . floppity . . . floppity ... floppity. .. As the sounds of Inspector Kemp's flat tires faded in the distance, Igor and Inga came hurrying into the study.

  "Did you convince him that you're normal?" Igor asked.

  "Why would that be any problem?" the doctor asked. "I carried it off perfectly. He doesn't suspect a thing. Why did you leave the monster alone?" he asked Igor. "Why not? He's out cold."

  "Lukewarm perhaps, but not cold," the doctor said. "I heard him mmmmmmmmmming." He headed for the door. "We better get back down there."

  Hustling, they left the study and made their way to the stairs that led to the laboratory. As they were descending, they heard the monster's plaintive moan.

  "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm . . ."

  "He won't get very far in the world with that vocabulary," Igor said.

  A moment later, they heard a woman's voice. "Poor baby, poor little lamb."

  "He's learning fast!" Igor said, surprised.

  "Shh!" the doctor said, halting. "That wasn't him. Someone is with him."

  "A woman!" Inga said.

  Slowly, they proceeded. When they reached the entrance to the laboratory, they peeked around the doorway. There was a woman with the monster-more or less. It was Frau Blucher. Curious, the doctor, Inga and Igor remained concealed, listening and watching.

  "What have they done to you?" Frau Blucher cooed to the monster, who had regained consciousness. "But it's all over now. I'm going to set you free!"

  "Mmmmmmrnmmm . . ."

  "Yes, my susser Kopf, free! Would you like that?"

  "Mmrnmrnmmm."

  "Of course you would. They just wanted to hurt you. But I am going to help you."

  Frau Blucher began removing the leg bands.

  "Stop!" Dr. Frankenstein cried, charging into the laboratory.

  He was too late. The leg straps were off.

  "Get back! Don't come near him!" Frau Blucher screamed, throwing her arms wide and standing in front of the table.

  "What in heaven's name do you think you're doing, Frau Blucher?"

  From outside came the sound of horses rearing and neighing in fear.

  "I'm setting him free!" the woman told him.

  Inga appeared at the doctor's side. "No, no, you mustn't!" she pleaded, addressing Frau Blucher.

  "I must," she said.

  "He'll kill you!" the doctor told her.

  She laughed. "He won't. He's gentle as a lamb."

  The monster suddenly lurched forward. The chest straps snapped.

  "Mmmmmmmmmmm!" he cried out.

  "Get away from him!" Dr. Frankenstein shouted to Frau Blucher, backing away. "He's an animal! For the love of God, woman, run!"

  She ignored the warning. "I'm not afraid of him," she said. "He's a doll." She bent down and got a violin and bow from under the operating table. "Besides," she said, "I know what he likes."

  The monster sat up.

  Smiling at him in a motherly way, Frau Blucher put the violin under her chin, then touched the bow to the strings. Strange music came from the instrument. She was playing the eerie Transylvanian lullaby.

  "Mmmmmmmmmmm . . ." the monster said softly.

  "Stopped the big fellow in his tracks," Igor said, impressed.

  "That music!" the doctor said, putting his hands to his temples. He seemed to be momentarily stunned.

  "Yes-?" Frau Blucher said, staring deep into the doctor's eyes. She appeared to understand why the music was having such a mesmerizing effect on him. "The music ... do you remember?"

  ". . . that strange, quaintly atonal folk tune . . ." Dr. Frankenstein said dimly.

  Frau Blucher motioned to the monster. He got down from the table and stood waiting for further instructions. The woman motioned again, directing, him toward the stairs. When he was on his way, she, too, began moving toward the stairs, backing away, continuing to play.

  ". .. the music ..." the doctor murmured.

  "It's in your blood," Frau Blucher told him. "It reaches the soul, when words are useless. Your grandfather used to play it to the creature he was making."

  "Mmmmmmmmm . . ." the monster moaned.

  "Then it was you, all the time," the doctor said.

  "Yes."

  "You who played that music in the middle of the night."

  "Yes."

  "To get me into the laboratory."

  "Yes."

  "And that was your cigar smoldering in the ashtray."

  "Yes!"

  "And it was you who lured me to my grandfather's secret library so that I would find the book."

  "Two to one it's another yes," Igor said.

  "Yes!" Frau Blucher hissed.

  "So that I would-" Dr. Frankenstein began. Then words failed him. He simply stared in horror at the monster.

  "Yes! Yes!" Frau Blucher shouted triumphantly.

  "Then, you and my grandfather were-" the doctor said, "You were-You were-"

  "Yes!" the crone shrieked. "Say it! I don't care anymore! Say it! He was-He was-He was my-my boyfriend!"

  "Mmmmmmmmmm . . ." the monster groaned.

&n
bsp; "Up the stairs!" Frau Blucher commanded.

  "No!" the doctor protested, struggling against the effect of the music. "Frau Blucher, you can't set this poor, dumb creature out into the world! Listen! Try to understand! He has a rotten brain!"

  "Mmmmmmmmm!" the monster said indignantly.

  "There's nothing wrong with his brain that a little sunlight won't cure," Frau Blucher said.

  Lightning crashed.

  "But it's rotten, I tell you!" the doctor shouted. "Rotten!"

  The monster started for Dr. Frankenstein. "Mmmm-mmmm!"

  "Ixnay on the ottenray," Igor suggested to the doctor.

  Frau Blucher reached out an arm, stopping the monster. "Pay no attention," she said. "He's a crazy doctor -what's to expect?"

  Mollified, the monster returned to the stairs.

  "Please," Dr. Frankenstein begged. "Try to understand. That brain is abnormal. It was a mistake. He must be destroyed."

  "Never!" Frau Blucher shrieked. She turned to the monster. "Go!"

  The monster went crashing up the steps.

  Dr. Frankenstein rushed forward and pushed past the old woman. "Come back!" he shouted up the stairs. "Come back before it's too late."

  But the monster was gone!

  "He's free!" Frau Blucher howled. "Free at last!"

  The doctor raised his eyes to the heavens. "What have I done?" he wept. "God in Heaven, what have I done!"

  Lightning cracked.

  Thunder rumbled.

  Rain fell, pouring in through the skylight, drenching Dr. Frankenstein.

  Inga rushed to the doctor and threw her arms around him.

  "Get out of the rain!" Igor called to them.

  Dr. Frankenstein reached out and got hold of Igor's cape and pulled Igor into the rain.

  "We've got to find him, do you hear me!" the doctor told Inga and Igor. "We must find him before he kills someone."

  "First, couldn't we get in out of the rain," Igor said.

  "You'll never find him!" Frau Blucher told the doctor.

  "Curse this house!" Dr. Frankenstein bellowed, shaking a fist at the heavens.

  Lightning crashed. The rain fell harder.

  "He's free!" Frau Blucher cackled.

  "Curse the day I came here!" the doctor shouted.

  More lightning.

  "Curse the name of Frankenstein!" the doctor screamed, sobbing.

  Lightning.

  Thunder.

  Rain.

  Hail!

  And through it all, Frau Blucher played on, flooding the laboratory with the eerie sounds of that old Transylvanian lullaby.

  The monster had been wandering through the woods all day, lost, when in the early evening he came upon a modest cottage. The little house appealed to him. The thatched roof had a soft, springy look and he thought about what fun it would be to jump on it. There was a small vegetable garden that would make a nice meal for him. And, for dessert, the flowers that grew almost everywhere in the yard.

  Drawing nearer to the house, but being cautious because of his earlier experiences with human beings, the monster heard voices. The sounds had a pleasant tone. When he reached a window, he peeked in. A kindly-looking little old lady and little old man were inside. The woman was ironing, clearly enjoying that homey task, and the man was stacking logs into the woodbox.

  "Mmmmmmmmmm," the monster said, expressing delight.

  "A vind is coming up," he heard the man say.

  "Is that vat that vas?" the woman responded. "I thought your stomach vas acting up again."

  "Tank God you put Helga to bed," the man said. "Vis all dese rumors of monsters, I take no chances. I remember da last time."

  "But, Papa," the woman said, "I told you I vas turning the roastbraten. Don't you remember? I asked you to put Helga to bed."

  "I didn't hear you ask me."

  "Vell, I did."

  "Den, if you didn't put her to bed, and I didn't put her to bed, nobody put her to bed," the man said, alarmed.

  "And if nobody put her to bed, she's not in bed! Oh, Papa, were is she?"

  "No, Mama, don't be frightened," the man said, his face ashen with fear. "Don't tink about monsters."

  "Who's linking about monsters?"

  "I am!" the man said. "You should hear da stories dey're telling in the village. Dey would make your blood run cold." He shuddered. "But try not to tink about it," he said.

  "Papa! Do something! Our little girl!"

  The man went to the door and opened it and called out into the evening dimness. "Heeeelga!"

  The monster joined the couple in listening. There was no reply.

  "Heeeelga!" the man called again. "Heeeelga!"

  No answer.

  "Go to the bathroom!" the woman said.

  The man looked down at his trousers. "Am I-"

  "To look for Helga, I mean!" the woman told him.

  The man hurried back across the room, then disappeared through a doorway. But when he returned a few seconds later his face was still ashen with fear.

  "Not dere," he reported. "Mama, maybe she is at a neighbor's house."

  "Oh, I hope so, Papa! I'm afraid-"

  "Mama, don't be afraid. I told you, don't tink about monsters." He headed for the door again.

  "Vat can I do, Papa?" the woman asked.

  "Go on vis da ironing," he told her, departing. "It vill keep your mind off monsters."

  When the man had gone, there was nothing to hold the monster's interest. Ironing for ironing's sake just wasn't that fascinating. So he moved on, following a path that led back into the woods.

  Before long, he came to a small clearing. It appeared to be a child's playground. A swing hung from a tree limb. There was a teeter-totter, fashioned from a thick board and a thick log. And, standing at a well-a wishing well?-was a beautiful, golden-haired little girl. She had a small rag doll under one arm, and she was amusing herself by dropping flower petals into the well.

  Attracted to the child, the monster entered the cleaning. His appearance startled her so that she dropped her doll and it went tumbling into the well. There was a splash. For a second, the child was dismayed. But then her naturally sunny disposition reasserted itself and she smiled.

  "Hello!" she said to the monster. "My name is Helga Would you like to play with me?"

  The monster considered. He hoped she wasn't thinking about throwing him down the well, as she had the doll.

  "Mmmmrnrnmm . . ." he said, noncommittally.

  "We could drop flowers into the water together," Helga said sweetly.

  So, the monster joined her at the well. The little girl gave him a petal from a flower, and, following her example, he dropped it into the opening.

  "Bye-bye. Bye-bye," Helga called after the petal.

  "Mmmmmm-mmmmmm. Mmmmmmm-mmmmmm," the monster said.

  Helga offered him another petal.

  It had become obvious to the monster, however, that the little girl was running an inefficient operation. Her object, clearly, was to get all the flower petals into the well. Doing it her way, petal by petal, would take months. So, he relieved her of all of the flowers and dumped them into the well with one drop.

  Helga laughed happily. "Fun! Fun!" she said. She leaned over the well. "Bye-bye," she called down to the flowers.

  "Mmmmmmm-Mmmmmmm," the monster said.

  "Throw them a kiss," the little girl said.

  The monster puckered up his heavy lips and aimed a kiss into the opening.

  Helga clapped her hands in delight. But then the look of mild dismay returned to her face.

  "Oh, dear," she said. "No more petals. No more pretty flowers. What shall we throw into the well now?"

  The monster looked around. The log and heavy board that made up the teeter-totter? No. He turned his eyes back to Helga and was instantly struck with an inspiration. He reached out picked her up, then raised her high above his head.

  "Oooooooo! Wheeeeeee!" she cried out joyously.

  Then, down she went, as the mons
ter lowered her to one end of the teeter-totter.

  "Now, you sit down," Helga said to the monster, indicating the opposite end of the board.

  Wanting only to make her happy, he straddled it, then lowered himself. Unfortunately, he was not yet in full control of his body. Halfway down, he lost his balance, and, falling, landed on the board with all his weight. The result was startling. Helga, catapulted, went shooting high into the air.

  She continued to go up, up, up! And, due to a wind factor in the upper atmosphere, she also drifted. Fearful for her, the monster began clomping through the woods, following her progress as she shot higher and higher and drifted further and further away. His hope was that he would be able to catch her when she finally came down.

  As Helga reached the peak of her climb and then began the descent, the monster discovered that he was approaching the cottage again. He stretched out his arms, making ready for the catch, and continued to advance, compensating for the drift. A few moments later, he found himself back at the cottage window. Looking in, he saw that the mother was still ironing. Glancing back up, he located Helga once more and set himself for the catch.

  Then the monster heard the father's voice again. "Mama! Helga vas not at da neighbor's!"

  "Oh, Papa! Vat has happened to her?"

  "Mama, don't think about monsters!"

  "But vere is she?" the mother wept. "Ve've looked everywhere but in her room."

  "Didn't you look in her room?" the father asked.

  "But you said you didn't put her to bed."

  "I didn't say I looked in her room, though. I thought you looked in her room."

  "You told me to keep ironing."

  Helga, plummeting, was only yards short of the monster's arms.

  "Mama, let's look in her room!"

  Helga was drifting again. The monster ran, trying to stay under her. But, just as she was about to drop into his arms, she was caught by a sudden gust of wind. It blew her toward the cottage-and in through a window.

  Afraid for the child, the monster went to the window and looked in. What he saw gave him the faith to believe in sheer luck. Helga had landed in a bed. And not only was she not harmed, but, weary after the long flight, she had dropped off to sleep.

  At that instant, the door of the room burst open. The parents appeared.

  "Mama! She's been here all the time, safe in her little bed!" the father said. He glared at his wife. "And you vere afraid of monsters."