EXCERPT
The Man Who Became Frankenstein's Monster
by Robert
Daicy
The Man Who Became Frankenstein's Monster is currently on tour with Reading Addiction Book Tours.
The tour stops here today for an excerpt. Please be sure to
visit the other tour stops as well.
Description
New York, 1926 ‒ Anyone can make a good life for themselves if they are
just willing to work hard for it. William Barker is such a man. He has a good
job, a nice house, a son named James, and a marriage he is trying desperately
to hold together. A tragic accident takes this life away and William finds
himself alone in his house with terrible mental and physical scars that are a
constant reminder of what happened.
With no one willing to employ a man with such visible and disturbing
scars, William is lost and has no answers for how to live his life. That is
when he meets the man who will change that life forever, Roland Skelton, the
owner of Skelton’s Spectacular Traveling Carnival. Where others saw a man to be
shunned, Roland sees a man he may be able to help.
Roland convinces William to join the Carnival as the headliner of the
ten-in-one. With the name "Frankenstein’s Monster", William is a hit
with the paying audience and finds that being onstage is a release from his
pain and guilt. In time, William realizes that those he works with understand
him better than he could have hoped.
While working at the carnival, William finds a new happiness, an enemy,
purpose, and even love. The Man Who Became Frankenstein's Monster is a moving novel about a man who
rises above adversity set against the backdrop of the golden age of the
carnival.
Excerpt
For a seven-year-old
boy, Saturday was a long time in coming, but finally, it arrived. Some of James’ schoolmates were jealous that
he was going to Coney Island, lamenting the fact that their own fathers would
not take them until later in the season, if at all. Although James was not usually a braggart, on
this occasion, he bragged to anyone who would listen to him. James had gone to bed earlier than usual on
Friday evening, reading from The Arabian
Nights to keep his mind distracted until the book fell from his hands and
landed with a thud on the wooden floor as his eyelids closed at last.
When he awoke
Saturday morning, James immediately jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs to
see what time it was. To his surprise,
neither his mother nor father were in the kitchen and when he looked outside,
James discovered that light was only just starting to creep over the horizon
with the promise of a sunny day. When he
saw the time on the clock on the mantle, he was horrified to discover in was
not quite six in the morning and his parents would not be up for at least
another hour.
Knowing he would be
unable to fall back asleep, James decided to go into the living room and keep
his mind occupied with the previous days’ newspaper - the sports section at
least - until his parents came downstairs.
He read up on the Yankees, but found himself skimming over the
article. Maybe it was because they were
losing this year or that Babe Ruth hitting the long ball wasn’t quite as
thrilling to him, but whatever the reason, James found himself moving from the
Yankees articles to a brief article on horse racing. When there was nothing else of note in the
paper, James put it down next to him and waited for the time to pass by.
Feet descended down
the stairs a while later and Helen appeared, dressed in the pink bathrobe she
had worn to bed. Helen said good morning
to her son before going into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee before
she started on breakfast. James
acknowledged his mother, looking out the window and seeing that the light had
finally won its daily battle with the darkness.
William came down
while James was still staring out the window and looked curiously at his
son. “What are you doing up so
early? You usually sleep late on
Saturdays. I hope you haven’t made any
other plans,” he teased.
“I was too excited
to sleep. I’ve been up for over an
hour.”
William
laughed. “I thought we only went through
this on Christmas morning.”
James’ cheeks
reddened a little. “One more day in the
year can’t hurt. So when can we go?” he
asked excitedly.
Stretching out his
stiff muscles, William answered, “Can you let me wake up and have my breakfast
first?” He realized his tone sounded
grumpier than he had meant, so he spread his mouth into a wide, tooth-baring
smile as he said, “We’ll go soon, I promise.
We need to have breakfast and get ready first.” He ran his hand through his son’s hair and
went into the kitchen.
James had to force
the overcooked breakfast down that morning; his stomach was not quite cooperating
with him due to his anticipation, however.
He hated how long his father took to finish breakfast while seeming to
read every article in the morning paper he had gone out and bought while Helen
had cooked breakfast. A look of
disappointment arose on William’s face when he read that the Yankees lost the
previous afternoon, although the loss came as little surprise. Instead of simply sitting in the kitchen
watching his father waste time with the paper, James trotted upstairs to dress
and prepare for the day. He washed up,
changed into a pair of blue shorts, and put on a plain white shirt. As James slid a sock over his left foot,
William appeared in the doorway, awake and relaxed. “I’ll get ready so we can go,” he told his
son. Looking out the window, William
remarked, “It sure is a nice day to go to Coney Island isn’t it?”
The weather outside
was as good as any New Yorker could hope for on a May morning. The sun was out, shining down on the street
and what little grass there was in the yard, while birds fluttered about in
search for food. The sky was a light
baby blue, with no clouds in sight to ruin the day with a possible rain. “Yes!
It’s a perfect day to go!” James
cried, unable to hold back his enthusiasm.
“Well, I better get
ready to go than, shouldn’t I?” James
nodded his head in response and descended downstairs while his father went into
his room to dress for the day.
“Now James, don’t
you be any trouble to your father,” Helen cautioned her son as he came back
into the kitchen.
“I won’t be, I
promise.”
“Good. I’m sure you’ll have a great time. I always loved going down to Coney Island
with your father before you were born,” she said as she thought back to those
days, almost sad that she would not be going.
Despite all the rush in the house on a Saturday morning, Helen was in a
great mood, caused by the fact that she would have the entire day to
herself. Saturday’s were typically hard
for Helen because she went about doing the usual housework, but had William
around eating all the food and trying to fix up some broken things around the
house while James was running around with his friends, making a mess just after
she had cleaned one up. It was going to
be refreshing to have no worries about what trouble James was getting into in
the neighborhood. In short, Helen
despised Saturday’s, even though it was the favorite day of the week for both
men in her life.
Eager to get going,
James went outside to wait for William, bringing a baseball with him to toss to
himself. William remained in the house
for a moment and said to Helen, “I hope you enjoy your day by yourself. Do you have any plans?”
“Not that it’s any
of your business, but I plan to relax today and I might go over to Peggy’s for
some drinks later on,” she answered, obviously annoyed that he was cheating her
of even another minute of peace and quiet that she felt entitled to. William could tell by looking into his wife’s
face that she was done with the conversation ‒ if it could be called that ‒ and
he said goodbye, leaving the house without waiting for her to reply, knowing
she would not have one.
The young boy and
his father walked excitedly down the street to the subway station on Atlantic
Avenue, a short distance from their home.
When the subway arrived - after a chorus of screeching brakes caused
James to cover his ears - they waited their turn patiently in line. William handed over two nickels and boarded
the crowded subway car with James following closely behind. James looked through the small window next to
him the whole way, admiring the mosaic tiling along the walls as he envisioned
the sights and smells he was soon to encounter.
The ride was a short one as Coney Island was in the Southwestern tip of
Brooklyn. The short trip suited James,
who was crowded on all sides by the mass of humanity in the car.
When the subway car
stopped, a struggle ensued as everyone in the car tried to get out at once,
eager to be the first one to let themselves loose on Coney Island. William held his son’s hand and told him to
wait for everyone else to get out, not wanting to risk getting James trampled
in the mayhem. As soon as William and
James walked off the subway at Stillwell Avenue into the crowded street, James’
eyes lit up as he saw the nearby Giant Racer, the screams of passengers ringing
in his ears. The enticing smell of
Totonno’s pizza, along with Nathan’s Famous five cent hotdogs and fried clams
entered their noses and caused their stomachs to ache with pangs of hunger as
they started to walk with the crowd who had gotten off the subway. Although they had eaten Helen’s breakfast,
the smell in their kitchen that morning was nothing compared to the succulent
smells they were now breathing in, mixed with the salty aroma of the ocean.
“Let’s just walk
around for a while and see what we find,” William instructed, taking James’
hand in his own and heading straight ahead.
They had been
walking for over twenty minutes when a talker was heard in front of the
Dreamland Circus Sideshow. William
guided James away from the man standing on a platform and toward the opposite
side of the street where the Eden Musee stood.
There were dozens of customers in front of the building reading the
posters that listed the wax attractions within or staring in the two display
windows. “What’s The World in Wax mean?” James asked, reading the words off the
billboard over the display windows.
“It means that this
is a wax museum. All the displays inside
are of famous people or scenes done in wax.”
“How do they do
that?”
“I’m not sure to be honest.”
“Can we go inside?”
William was about to
say yes to his son and even had a hand in his pocket in search of the twenty
cents it would cost the two of them for admittance when his eyes rested on the
posters on the building, which proclaimed attractions such as: Rulers of the
world, Death of an innocent victim, The eve of an execution, Assassination of
Pres. McKinley, and Martyred Christians.
“Um, I think we better not.” Seeing
the disappointment written across James’ face, William quickly offered, “Why
don’t we look around a bit more and see what else is here. Maybe we can come back later.”
This last statement
cheered James up and he quickly followed his father down the street until they
were in front of the Barrel of Fun, which was a long spinning tube made of wood
in which people entered through one end and slowly made their way to the other
end while the barrel spun around, making navigation rather difficult. James slowed down as they passed, watching
some children and their parents laughing inside as they were thrown about the
spinning barrel. William and James
joined the group of onlookers who were laughing with mirth at the people trying
to exit the ride.
“I think we’ll have
to go on that later,” William said as more people climbed in the entrance of
the ride. James nodded his head and the
two continued on taking in all the sights of the various amusement rides and
games that could be played as the sun started beating its mild-May rays on
their shoulders. James was afraid to
blink, afraid he would miss something spectacular in the seemingly endless
park.
“Do you want to go
back to Nathan’s and grab a couple of hot dogs?” William asked James, whose hand he was
holding so as not to lose his son amongst the crowd. Coney Island was always busy, but ever since
the five cent subway rides, it was a booming tourist attraction because more people
could now afford to go. Even though it
was May, there were more people than James had ever seen in his life.
“Sure!” James declared as they turned back toward
Nathan’s Famous stand on the corner of Surf and Stillwell Avenue.
“They make what many
consider the best hot dog in the world,” William informed his son. “I’d have to agree,” he added, feeling a
distinct pull as James started to walk faster.
It was not long before the sign above the open stand could be seen,
proclaiming: The Original Nathan’s Famous
Frankfurters with green writing and a lowercase “N” in front of
Nathan’s. To the left was painted a
wooden barrel with 5¢ in the middle and to the right was listed: Frankfurter, Roast Beef, Hamburger with
a large five and small cent sign right next to the offerings. As William led James closer, a white banner
underneath the main sign read from left to right: Potato Chips 10¢, Malted Milk Milk shake 6¢, Soda 5¢, Ice Cream Soda 10¢,
Pineapple - Orange - Grape - Lemon 5¢.
People were flocking to Nathan’s from the subway and coming from the
long boardwalk on the other side of the stand with William and James. When the line had moved up enough, William
and James reached the stand, they could see about a dozen workers busy taking
and filling the orders. There was no
distinguishable line, just a mass of bodies pushing their way toward the front
so they could get their cheap hot dogs and root beer.
William made sure he
had a good grip on James’ hand before pushing toward the front of the line with
everyone else. Considering how many
people were trying to get hot dogs for themselves and their children, it was a
surprisingly quick wait before William ordered four hot dogs, a hamburger, and
two root beers - all for just thirty-five cents. He had no more than spoken the order and
within forty-five seconds, the food was in front of him, steaming hot.
Food in hand,
William and James pushed back through the throng of humanity and went walking
back along the wooden boardwalk, which stretched two and a half miles from W.
37th Street to Ocean Parkway. The
boardwalk was as mobbed as Nathan’s had been, for William could see nothing but
a sea of people in front of him as he searched for a place to sit down and
eat. While he was scanning the nearby
area, a small commotion occurred when two policemen went chasing after a man
without a shirt on in order to give him a warning that he must not have his
chest exposed. The shirtless man ignored
them, however, running into several people as he tried to get away. Several females looked disgustedly after the
man as he ran by, followed by the policemen.
After the disturbance was over, William finally found a little pavilion
with a few spots to sit down a short distance away.
“Why are you looking
at me like that, Dad?” James asked,
seeing his father staring at him after they had sat down.
“Well, this is a
special moment in your life, son.”
William replied as he took one of the hot dogs out of the small box
their order came in.
“What’s special
about it?”
“This is your very
first Nathan’s hot dog,” William told his son, handing him the hot treat.
James was about to
take his very first bite then paused.
“Dad, do you remember your first Nathan’s hot dog?”
“Yes, I do. The very first time I took your mother out
was when I first experienced a Nathan’s hot dog. I remember closing my eyes and biting down
and just letting the flavor enter my mouth.”
James held the
oversized dog in front of his mouth and closed his eyes, biting off a small
chunk of the hot dog and letting it rest in his mouth for a few seconds; he
could even feel the steam hitting the roof of his mouth as some of the juice
ran out onto his tongue. Before the
saliva in his mouth increased any more than it already had, James started to
slowly chew up and down, enjoying the feel of his teeth puncturing the skin of
the hot dog after getting through the bun.
When he swallowed the bite, his stomach craved more.
William waited for
his son’s eyes to open again before asking, “So, what do you think?”
“It’s delicious! You have to eat yours now, just like when you
were here with Mom.”
William nodded,
closed his eyes, and started to think back to when he and Helen came here to
sit down on the beach and eat sweets and go on some of the rides, but those
thoughts turned as bitter as their relationship had for William, who thought of
how much the girl he had married had changed.
He opened his eyes and looked down at his son, who had given up watching
his father and was eagerly devouring the rest of his first Nathan’s hot
dog. When William closed his eyes again,
he pictured that very moment - he and his son eating hot dogs on the boardwalk
at Coney Island on James’ first visit - and he put the treat into his mouth and
ate that first bite as he always ate them: slowly.
When their bellies
were full, William decided they would spend some time laying on the beach and
perhaps walking into the shallow ocean to let their food settle before going on
any rides. Finding a place to sit on the
beach was not an enviable task; people sat towel to towel and if you looked
from above, you wouldn’t see a beach there at all, just a huge mass of
people. William managed to find a spot
just big enough for the two of them to lie down. From where they were, they could not even see
where the ocean began.
“Hey, dad, what’s
that?” James asked, looking behind them
and pointing up past the boardwalk to a giant metal circular structure in the
distance.
William sat up and
saw what his son was pointing to. “That,
James, is the Wonder Wheel!”
“What’s a Wonder
Wheel?”
“Well, it’s a wheel
of wonder of course,” he stammered, unable to find the words to describe the
ride. “You see those little baskets
hanging off of it?”
“Yes,” James
answered, looking skyward at the mountainous contraption.
“Well, people get
into those and when they are all full, the wheel spins around slowly in the air
so when you get to the top, you can see the ocean and all of the park. You go around several times until it‘s time
to get everyone out,” William explained.
James’ eyes grew
wide as he tried to comprehend being able to see all of New York. “Can we ride it?” the boy asked excitedly.
“Sure, we’ll ride it
later on this evening - that’s the best time because all the lights will be on
in the city. It’ll be a long wait in
line though.”
“It looks gigantic
from here!” James declared as he
marveled at the enormous ride.
“It is, just wait
until you see it up close”
“How tall do you
think it is?” James wondered aloud, more to himself than to his father.
“Oh, I’d say at
least a hundred feet, maybe more. Bigger
than I am, that’s for sure.” William lay
back down on the sand and tried to rest his eyes for a few minutes and let his
meal settle, but James would have none of that.
He persisted in asking when they could go on the rides. Apparently, his stomach had taken the Coney
Island food better than William’s had.
Unable to resist his son’s constant persistence, William decided to get
up to lead his son to more fun.
Walking through the
giant mass of people, William and James heard an assortment of American accents
and the languages of all sorts of foreign countries. There was a Chinese couple taking pictures of
the ocean, while no more than ten feet away, a group of people speaking French
were enjoying the wind blowing through their hair as they contentedly ate
clams. While William led James through
the crowd, they could not travel for more than twenty feet without hearing a
talker trying to get customers to ride a ride, play a game, or see sights of
the unusual variety.
William and James
worked their way through the crowd toward their destination: The Giant Racer on
Surf Avenue and West 10th street. The
Giant Racer was a nine hundred foot long two-track roller coaster and had been
one of the main attractions of the Dreamland Amusement park before a fire in
1911 burned the park down; but due to its steel structure, the Giant Racer
survived the fire and continued operation.
“Wow, look at how
fast the cars go!” James exclaimed as
the Racer came into view. His pace
picked up so that he was leading his father instead of the other way around.
William looked up at
the mammoth sight before him. If nothing
else, the attractions at Coney Island had the ability to make a man feel
small. “They are fast,” he replied. “I hope the line isn’t too long though.”
They got in the back
of the line for the coaster, which, as William feared, was substantially
long. As they slowly inched their way
forward, William could not help but overhear an elderly couple in front of him. “I was really hoping to ride the new roller
coaster, but I‘m not waiting all afternoon,” the man said to his wife in an
Irish-accented tone.
The woman shook her
head and replied, “That line was hardly any longer than this one.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think this one’s too bad and it’s a
fun ride. They just keep building new
coasters for more money; the old ones are just fine.”
“I’m sure the new
one is fun too. Maybe we should go back
later and see if the line is any shorter.”
“It won’t be, but we
can check,” the man retorted.
James tugged on his
father’s arm and when William looked down at him, James asked, “Will it really
take all afternoon to ride the Thunderbolt?”
“I don’t know,
son. I suppose it might, but let’s just
worry about this line for the time being.”
It was twenty-five
minutes before the two found themselves at the front of the line and they were
seated behind the elderly couple. As the
coaster started to grind its way up the first ascent, William looked over at his
son, who had a wide grin on his face as the cool ocean breeze blew his soft,
dirty blond hair about. When they
reached the top of the ascent, the car paused for a brief moment, letting
everyone marvel at the beautiful view of the beach from such a height,
forgetting they were on a roller coaster for just the briefest of moments,
until suddenly the car plunged down the track.
Everyone - the elderly couple included - screamed as their hair flew
back away from their exulted faces.
James somehow managed to yell and giggle at the same time as they went
along the metal track, the wheels of the coaster the only sound besides the
yells of the passengers. When the car
reached a sharp curve, more yells were elicited from all aboard, for they were
not sure if the car was going to turn as it should or if it was just going to
careen right off the tracks. Unbeknownst to anyone currently riding on the
Giant Racer, this had actually happened once in 1911, killing two women who
plunged fifty feet down to the ground. That
was not the fate for this group of passengers, however. They whipped around the turn, William holding
on tight so he would not press all his weight into his son, as they continued
along the path of the track to its inevitable end.
As soon as the ride
was over and he was on solid ground once again, James realized he had fallen in
love. Coney Island was better than
anywhere he had ever been in his life and he had only been there a little more
than an hour and a half. There were
people as far as one could possibly see and they were all there for the same
reasons: to be entertained by the unique sights and smells; to get away from
their lives for a few hours; and most importantly, to enjoy themselves and act
like children, no matter what age they really were. The sounds of people screaming on the rides,
the voices of the talkers promising the chance of winning great prizes in games
of luck, and the feel of the wind blowing in his face intoxicated the young
boy.
And he wanted
more.
Right outside the
Giant Racer was a little cart selling Coca-Colas and that was where William and
James headed next. The man selling the
drinks looked to be in his mid-twenties, with bright red hair and matching
freckles. It was obvious by his tan that
he spent the entire day outside selling his soda, drinking a few himself when
the heat got to him and the line was small.
After William ordered the drinks, the man looked down at James and
smiled, asking, “Did you ride the Giant Racer?” as he opened the Coca-Colas
with a bottle opener.
“I sure did! It was fantastic!” the boy exclaimed, taking
one of the sodas the man held out.
“Well, there’s
plenty of rides here that are even better, my boy!” the vendor told him. “Make sure you try as many as you can!”
“I will!” James
replied as William led him away from the cart so other people could order their
drinks. They stood on the grass looking
up at the people now on the roller coaster, taking small sips of the cold,
sweet drink. When his bottle of
Coca-Cola was nearly exhausted, James asked, “Can we go on the Giant Racer
again?”
“We just rode that,
son. Don’t you want to try something
else? Besides, it took us half an hour
before we got to ride it, and I’m not sure I want to wait that long to go on it
again when there are so many other things to do and see,” William answered.
“Please, Dad. I really liked it, especially going around
that last sharp turn. Can’t we ride it
one more time and then we’ll check out the other rides?” the little boy
pleaded.
Knowing there was no
way to refuse his son anything, William nodded and the two finished their colas
and walked back to the end of the line so they could ride the Giant Racer
again.
Review
By fahamar
I got hooked right away with this book, the story was wonderful and
inspiring ... It goes to show you how your life can be changed in an instant. I
recommend this book to one and all. I fell in love with the people in the book
and I hated some of them. What an awesome story ... I was sorry when the book
was done ... I love a book like that!!!
From the Author
I have been writing off and on since I was eight and it has been
something I have always loved to do and wanted to do for a living. I tend to
write the stories I want to hear and sometimes those stories have a darkness to
them on some level whether they are more suspenseful stories or drama. I like
to jump around the genres because I do not want to get bored writing the same
thing and because I have eclectic taste.
I was born and raised in Maine and have lived there most my life and am
currently residing in a Victorian house in Fairfield, Maine.
Links
