Frankenstein Theory by Jack Wallen Page B

God happened rarely. Happenstance was so often at odds with logic.
    No matter. The truth at hand was simple
    And so it was decided. The moment Igor arrived with the body in tow, I would steal myself from the presence of the ladies and begin the work that would alter the very course of man.
    To the fates, I prayed my marriage would survive the coming days.
    If not, I fully understood that science was, in fact, my first mistress.
    I returned to the warmth of the sitting room. Elizabeth had nodded off, her knitting resting sweetly in her lap. The fire continued its roar toward the flue, and my seat called to me. Instead, I opted to scoop my wife up and carry her to the boudoir…even if only to sleep.
    Perchance…
     
     

F O U R T E E N
     
     
    The hearse rumbled its way through the muddy streets of Geneva. With each turn, the tall car nearly topped over. At the topside seat, a cloaked figure cracked a mighty whip. With each shocking snap, the horses picked up the pace until they raced into the pitch-blackness at unprecedented speeds.
    A bolt of lightning sparked overhead to reveal Igor seated beside the driver—his eyes bereft of life and his posture sunken and lost.
    “Igor,” I screamed out in perfect timing with another crash of lightning. Both horses whinnied loudly in fear as they came to a break-neck halt.
    The driver remained motionless on the hearse’s chair, still holding the reins and whip—ready to crack down hard and fast. Only he did not. The hearse continued racing through the narrow streets, careening off passersby and toppling fruit carts. The devilish whinny from the horses bounced from stone wall to stone wall.
    “Stop the carriage,” I shouted.
    The corpse-like driver remained motionless. I gave Igor’s arm a shake, and the limb snapped off. A single black crow peeked its head from the newly-formed hole in Igor’s torso. Like a child from the birth canal, the bird emerged and took flight. A murder of his brethren followed suit. As the birds exited Igor’s hollowed-out body, it fell forward, limp, and then dropped from the hearse.
    What remained of Igor–a lone arm–grabbed me by the ankle and squeezed hard. The cold flesh caught me by surprise, and I tumbled forward. That was when the driver finally animated and snatched me from a perilous fall.
    I turned to thank the man, only to see an all-too-familiar face.
    “Father?” I cried out.
    A crash of thunder and a blinding flash of lightning opened the sky to unleash a torrent of rain. My father turned to me and spoke—only there was no sound.
    “I cannot hear you, Father.”
    Again he mouthed words I could not hear. I focused on his lips in a vain attempt to read whatever message was meant for my ears. The world around me disappeared. There was only myself and my father. The hearse, streets, people, carts, rain, thunder…it all faded into an absolute blackness. As the ambient noise of Geneva faded into nothingness, my father’s voice returned, just as I remembered it.
    “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
    The words tore through me like scalpels of confusion. My father was not a religious man. To him, religion was society’s greatest crutch and the worst enemy of science. He loathed the Church and everything it stood for.
    “I don’t understand, Father,” I whispered against the background of the infinite abyss.
    His arm rose and his hand found purchase on my shoulder. What he whispered next chilled me from within. “A monster most human will unmake mankind.”
    Father’s form dissolved into the surrounding blackness. I screamed for his return—to no avail. Again I screamed. “Father!” The inky blackness drained my voice of sound.
    An explosion of thunder and lightning shocked me from the nightmare. I sat up and blinked away the sweat of rough sleep from my eyes. The heart within my breast beat relentlessly against its