Frankenweenie

by Elizabeth Rudnick

  As the kids watched, he drew land beneath the cloud. When he was done, Mr. Rzykruski went on. “The ground says, ‘Yes, we need electrons trained in science just like you. Come! Come!’ So both sides start to build a ladder.” The teacher drew a stick figure. “This man, he comes to look at the storm. He does not see the invisible ladders. When the two ladders meet, BOOM! The circuit is complete and all of the electrons rush to the land of opportunity. This man is in the way. YIIIII!!!” Mr. Rzykruski let out a loud shriek, causing the students to jump in their seats. As the kids watched in wide-eyed wonder, he drew violent shock lines coming out of the stick figure. Turning back around, he saw the scared expressions on his students. Realizing he might have taken it too far, he cleared his throat. “But it is very rare to have such an incident,” he finished.

  For a moment, the room was silent. Then Victor slowly raised his hand. “But it’s not rare. People get hit by…” He stopped and corrected himself. “Lightning happens to people all the time here.”

  The other students nodded. Victor was right. There was a thunderstorm almost every night in New Holland.

  “My dad got hit twice,” Bob said.

  Toshiaki, Nassor, and Weird Girl added their two cents. “They built New Holland on an abandoned gold mine…” one of them said.

  “I heard it was a cemetery,” Toshiaki said, causing the classroom to fill with oohs.

  “That’s where they buried the miners,” finished the other.

  As everyone oohed and ahhed, Toshiaki shook his head. “It’s the windmill that does it,” he said. Turning, he looked out the large window. In the distance, the windmill turned peacefully in the wind. It didn’t look particularly menacing. But Toshiaki went on. “Turning, turning the air until the sky rages against the night.”

  The classroom filled with noise as everyone began to chatter excitedly. At the front of the room, Mr. Rzykruski tried to regain control. Clapping his hands together, he finally quieted the kids down. Perhaps he shouldn’t have taught that particular lesson. “I want to announce the upcoming science fair,” he said, changing the subject.

  “Only seventh graders are allowed to enter the science fair,” Nassor piped up. They were fourth graders.

  Mr. Rzykruski shook his head angrily. “This is a ridiculous rule. There is no age limit on the making of a great scientist. Newton was five when he discovered, after eating a bad chicken dinner, that what goes down must come up.”

  As the other kids exchanged confused glances, Victor stared at his notebook. He had wanted to take part in the science fair, but he thought he would have to wait. Now he could participate! Maybe Mr. Whiskers’s dream would come true. Maybe Victor would win and become a star scientist and no one would ever make fun of him again. Victor smiled at the thought.

  As the bell rang, Victor jumped to his feet. Now he just needed to get home and invent something fantastic!

  hile Victor had been busy learning about lightning, Sparky had been busy, too. He had found a tennis ball in the backyard and was chasing it back and forth. He would pick it up and toss it in the air, then chase after it barking wildly. He kept going until suddenly the ball rolled under a broken plank in the fence. Leaning down he pushed his nose through the hole. The ball was just out of reach. He wiggled and pushed himself but it was just too far. Then it disappeared!

  Sparky let out a confused bark. Another dog barked in response. Jumping back, Sparky cocked his head. There wasn’t usually a dog next door. He had barked at that fence plenty of times and never heard a bark back. Leaning down again, he began to sniff frantically. When he reached the broken plank, his nose sniffed faster—and then it touched another dog’s nose!

  What was happening?

  Lying down so he could get a better view, Sparky looked through the hole. On the other side of the fence was a small, beautiful black poodle with a large poof of hair on her head. She was holding the tennis ball in her mouth. Seeing Sparky, the poodle dropped the ball. She wanted to play. But Sparky didn’t understand. He rolled over onto his back and put his paws in the air submissively.

  The poodle waited a moment to see if Sparky would get up. When he didn’t, she grabbed the ball and trotted off. Popping up, Sparky watched her prance away. He had to find out more about this new neighbor of his. Maybe Victor would know when he got home.

  Victor was making his way home as quickly as possible. But something—or rather, someone—was getting in his way. He had barely gotten through the school doors when Edgar Gore, “E” for short, had found him. The boy was short, with buckteeth and a small hunchback. He was a nice, but sometimes he tried a little too hard to make people like him.

  “You’ll be my partner for the science fair, right, Victor?” E begged, falling into step beside him. “Because you have to have a partner for the science fair and whoever’s your partner is going to win. You know the most about science. So pick me as a partner. I have lots of ideas. We could make a death ray!”

  Victor shook his head. “It says no death rays. See?” He held up the permission slip that Mr. Rzykruski had given them to get signed. On the paper was a long list of prohibited projects. It included everything from explosives to nuclear devices.

  “Ah, man. I still want to do it,” E said, disappointed. But he wasn’t about to give up. “C’mon. Who else would be your partner? You don’t have friends and neither do I.”

  There was nothing Victor could say to that. E had a point. Victor Frankenstein had gained a reputation as being quite the loner, especially when it came to working in his lab. “I’m sorry Edgar,” he said. “I just don’t need a partner. I like to work alone.” And with that, Victor headed home, leaving E behind.

  Victor was thrilled to be taking part in the science fair. But there was one obstacle in his way—his father.

  Mr. Frankenstein sat at the dining-room table staring at the permission slip Victor had given him a few moments earlier. In the kitchen, Victor’s mother was putting the final touches on their dinner. Tonight was fondue night.

  As he read over the guidelines, Mr. Frankenstein’s eyes narrowed. Nuclear devices? Explosives? What did the school administrators think their students were capable of creating? Slowly, he put the paper down and looked at his son. “Victor,” he began, “have we talked about what I do for a living?”

  Victor looked up from the plate of food his mother had put in front of him. “You’re a travel agent,” he replied.

  “I sell dreams,” his dad corrected. “I tell people, you can sail to Italy. You can do the hula in Hawaii.”

  This was nothing new to Victor. He had heard this speech before. “Will you sign my form?”

  “I’m getting to that,” his dad said. Picking up two fondue forks, he held them in front of his face. “In my job, sometimes you have people who don’t want quite the same thing. Say the husband wants to play golf in Scotland, but the wife wants to paddle down the Amazon.” He held the forks apart, as if they were the couple. “It’s my job to help them meet halfway. Say, Scottsdale, Arizona.”

  That didn’t make sense to Victor. “Nobody gets what they want,” he pointed out.

  His dad nodded. “Exactly! And wrong. They both get what they want because they compromise.” He skewered a piece of beef with his fork. “You’d like to do this science fair. I’d like you to try a sport. Say, baseball. How do you choose?” Victor shrugged. “Guess what? You don’t have to. No reason you can’t do both. We meet in the middle. Everyone’s happy.” As he finished, he brought his two forks together and clinked them.

  Victor stifled a groan. He had no choice. If he wanted to be in the science fair, it looked like he was playing baseball.

  The day after their conversation, Victor found himself in the outfield, nervously wiping sweat off his forehead. Baseball was bad enough, but when he had gotten to the field and seen his teammates, Victor knew it was only going to get worse. E, Nassor, Bob, and Toshiaki had been warming up. Toshiaki threw pitches to Nassor while E and Bob ran the bases. Watching over a
ll of them was the coach—Mr. Frankenstein himself.

  Victor had sighed and followed his dad’s directions to take a spot out behind second base—well, he was pretty sure that was the base he was standing behind—and since then, he had just been waiting. And sweating.

  Looking over, Mr. Frankenstein noticed the dazed look on his son’s face. Jogging over, he put a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “Look at what Toshiaki’s doing. Keeping his eye on the target. Never losing his concentration.”

  Victor nodded absently, but he wasn’t really listening. He was thinking about the science fair. “I want you to concentrate on your project for the science fair,” Mr. Rzykruski had told them in class. That was no problem for Victor. He wanted to focus on the fair. If only baseball weren’t in the way.

  BOP!

  Victor had been so lost in thought he didn’t notice the fly ball coming right at him until it hit him on the head. He lifted his hand and felt the bump forming on his skull. Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking about science on the baseball field. But Mr. Rzykruski’s words kept running through his mind. “It’s okay to fail as long as you keep trying,” he had said. Maybe Victor could translate that to baseball.

  The next day, when it was his turn at bat, Victor took a deep breath and waited for Toshiaki to pitch. As the ball came toward him, Victor brought his bat back and then SWING!! He let it fly. And missed. Three times in a row. Watching from the sidelines, Sparky let out a bark and went to get the pitcher’s ball. At least the dog was having some fun.

  Finally, it was time for an exhibition game. The science fair was scheduled for the following Friday. All Victor wanted to do was get through the game and then get home to work. His mom and Sparky had come out to cheer him on, along with Elsa and her dog, Persephone. Persephone was the dog Sparky had seen next door. He tried to wiggle closer to her as they watched the players take the field.

  When it was his turn at bat, Victor nervously made his way to the plate. When he got there, he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and tried to take a deep breath—but he almost choked. Looking up, he stared right into the eyes of Toshiaki.

  The other boy raised the mitt to his chest as his left leg came up. He paused, staring down Victor. Then he pulled his arm back and threw—hard! The ball shot straight out of his hand, heading right toward Victor. Pulling his bat back, Victor closed his eyes and then swung through.

  WHACK!

  Victor had hit the ball! For a moment, he just stood there in shock. But then Sparky let out a bark and Victor began to run the bases. Meanwhile, Sparky had gotten so excited that he tore across the field, chasing the ball—which was now rolling through the outfield wildly. Bob tried to stop it, but he missed. The ball kept going, Sparky close behind. The ball rolled and rolled until finally it rolled right into the street. With a growl, Sparky pounced, catching the ball in his mouth. Turning, he looked back at Victor, wagging his little tail proudly.

  Victor cheered and then started to call Sparky back. He shouldn’t be on the road, Victor thought. A car could come by at any moment. Just then, to his horror, a car came careening around the corner. Victor shouted a warning to Sparky, but it was too late.

  The car’s brakes screeched. Someone let out a scream. Then there was a thump, and Sparky grew still.…

  he pet cemetery was quiet. Homemade and elaborate stone markers were spread throughout the large gated plot of land. Some had pictures of a beloved pet bird or dog, while others had names such as buddy and jack etched on their surfaces.

  As Victor and his mother watched, Mr. Frankenstein lowered a box into the ground under a new marker that simply read: sparky. Standing up, Mr. Frankenstein went to join his family. He put a hand gently on his son’s shoulder. Victor didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Sparky was gone.

  Later that evening, Victor stood over his workbench, putting the finishing touches on his newly fixed projector. His eyes kept going to Sparky’s treadmill, hoping he would see his best friend trotting along. But the treadmill was still. He felt his heart break even more.

  With a sigh, he threaded the film through the reel and pressed play. The screen lit up with an image of the Sparkysaurus attacking a Flying Turtle Monster. For a moment, Victor smiled. But just as quickly, the smile vanished and he once again felt only sadness. He lay his head on the workbench as a single tear slid down his cheek.

  Later that night, Victor crawled into bed. Forgetting the day’s events, he reached his hand down, waiting for Sparky to give him his good-night lick. But there was no lick. Sparky wasn’t there. Victor wondered, not for the first time, when it would ever feel normal again. Turning over, he stared up at the ceiling.

  A few minutes later his parents came in, their faces creased with worry. Taking a seat on the edge of Victor’s bed, Mrs. Frankenstein ran a gentle hand through her son’s hair. Mr. Frankenstein sat down next to her.

  “He was a great dog,” Victor’s mom said softly. “A great friend.”

  Mr. Frankenstein nodded. “The best dog a kid could have.”

  Victor didn’t say anything. Exchanging a glance with her husband, Mrs. Frankenstein paused before saying, “When you lose someone you love, they never really leave you. They just move into a special place in your heart. He’ll always be there, Victor.”

  Flipping on his side so that his back was to his parents, Victor let out a deep sigh. They didn’t get it. “I don’t want him in my heart,” he said sadly. “I want him here, with me.”

  Leaning over, Mrs. Frankenstein gave her son a kiss on the cheek. Then she and her husband stood up to leave. At the door, she turned back. “If we could bring him back, we would,” she said softly.

  On his bed, Victor just stared at the wall. There was nothing his parents could say to make it better. Sparky was gone. And he would never come back. He’d never play fetch with Victor or greet him at the door or get the morning paper. The stupid car had taken him away and now Victor was totally, and utterly, alone.

  Even though he was sad and wanted to stay in bed forever, Victor’s parents wouldn’t let him. So the next day, he was back at school. He spent history writing Sparky’s name over and over again in his notebook. During English, he wrote a story about Sparkysaurus. By the time he got to Science, he was despondent. As Mr. Rzykruski began his lecture on electricity, Victor opened up his notebook and began to doodle pictures of Sparky.

  Looking over, Elsa noticed Victor’s sad expression and his drawings. She wished there was something she could say to make him feel better. She would be the same way if something ever happened to Persephone. But Victor wouldn’t look up. He wasn’t even listening to Mr. Rzykruski. He was in serious mourning.

  At the front of the room, the teacher continued to lecture, unaware of Victor’s sadness. On his desk he had put a dead frog on display. He began to hook up an electrode to the frog’s leg. “Just like lightning, the nervous system is electricity.” He pointed to a small electric box next to the frog. The wire went from the frog’s leg to the box. “Even after death, the wiring remains.”

  At the word death, Elsa looked over to see if Victor was okay. He hadn’t even reacted.

  Turning back to the front of the room, Elsa watched as Mr. Rzykruski flipped a switch on the electric box. There was a buzz and a spark and then…the frog’s leg jumped, just as if it were alive!

  Hearing the buzz, Victor looked up just in time to see the frog’s newly animated leg. His heart began to beat faster. His eyes grew wider. He looked up at the frog and then down at his Sparky doodles and then back at the frog. Slowly, a smile spread across his face. He had an idea! A crazy, wild idea, but it might just work. Maybe Sparky wasn’t gone forever after all!

  As soon as school was over, Victor raced home. He had a lot to do. First, he grabbed various tools and equipment from the garage. Then he raided the kitchen, picking up a colander here, a pan there, an ironing board from the closet, and a few other household appliances. When he was satisfied he had everything he needed, he dropped it off upstairs.
Next stop, the pet cemetery.

  Victor waited until evening to sneak into the cemetery. A full moon shone down, making it easy for Victor to find his way to Sparky’s grave. Making sure no one was looking, he began digging. It was spooky, and several times Victor jumped at an unexpected noise like an owl hooting or cat screeching, but he kept digging. Finally, he was done. Carefully, he opened the box they had put Sparky in and picked up the wrapped bundle. Placing Sparky in a wheelbarrow, Victor turned and headed for home.

  If getting Sparky had been scary, getting past his parents was downright terrifying. Mr. and Mrs. Frankenstein were having their weekly movie night. They were cuddled up on the couch, munching on popcorn. Crouching down, Victor tiptoed behind the couch, heading toward the stairs. Not watching where he was going, he bumped into a lamp. He froze. The lamp teetered and tottered, casting flickering light on the walls. Victor waited, his heart pounding. If he got caught…Luckily, the lamp stopped rocking. Letting out a sigh of relief, Victor tiptoed quickly the rest of the way down the hall and up the stairs.

  When he was safe in his attic laboratory, Victor got right to work. He placed his safety goggles over his eyes and shrugged on his lab coat. Then he looked down at his dog. Sparky had suffered some damage when the car hit him, but nothing Victor couldn’t fix. As thunder began to boom outside, Victor started to stitch Sparky up. Then he grabbed some duct tape and made a few more adjustments. He was so close! Just a few more finishing touches and Sparky would be ready. Sifting through his toolbox, he tossed aside a slinky and then a hammer. He shook his head. Not what he was looking for. Finally he spotted his bucket of nuts and screws. Smiling, he grabbed two oversized bolts and attached them to Sparky’s neck.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The thunder was growing louder as the storm got closer. Victor smiled. Everything was going according to plan!

  Gently, Victor placed Sparky on his mother’s ironing board and pushed it into the middle of the room. Knowing he would have to get Sparky outside somehow, Victor had built a retractable door into the roof that could be opened with a chain. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated Sparky. With a determined nod, Victor grabbed two balloons and an umbrella. Then he climbed up the ladder and out the door onto the roof. Another flash of lighting revealed a metal swing set. Victor took a moment to pat himself on the back. That had been the second hardest part of the plan after building the door—getting the swing up there and secured without his parent’s noticing. Turning from the swing set, Victor raised a finger in the air to check the wind direction. North by Northwest. Perfect. Taking the balloons, he attached them with a string to the umbrella. Then he attached the other end of the string to the metal swing set. It would be the perfect conductor.