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Authors: Matthew McElligott

Benjamin Franklinstein Meets the Fright Brothers (6 page)

BOOK: Benjamin Franklinstein Meets the Fright Brothers
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CHAPTER SIX
Franklinstein Unleashed!
Over the next
few days, Franklin and Victor worked on improving the equipment in the basement laboratory. All the while, they monitored the electrophone for another message from the mysterious voice.
“This waiting,” Franklin said, “it's driving me mad!”
“I understand,” Victor said, “but the voice said you need to be here if we get another call. How's the temperature on the Hyperion coil?”
Franklin examined a gauge. “It is still running a trifle hot. Perhaps we should add more cooling agent.”
On the floor in the corner, Scott was tinkering with his grandfather's broken radio. “What's a Hyperion coil?”
“My latest invention,” Franklin explained. “Whenever lightning strikes the house, the energy is stored inside the charging sphere.” He pointed to the large copper orb suspended from the ceiling.
Scott walked over for a closer look.
“That generates a tremendous amount of heat,” Victor continued. “When winter comes, we'll use some of it to heat the house. For now, the Hyperion coil fires the heat deep into the ground, where it dissipates in the cool earth. It's kind of like a super-powerful radiator.”
“So that's why it's so hot in here,” Scott said. “But I thought it was bad for lightning to hit your house.”
Scott had endless questions, and there was plenty to tell: Franklin's invention of the life-sustaining harmonic fluid, his low-power zombie state, his overcharged rampaging monster state, the battery belt that kept him in balance, and the real story behind the volcanic disaster at last month's Mandatory Science Fair.
 
THE FRANKLIN HARMONIC COIL
“So all that stuff at the fair was because of you, Ben?” Scott asked.
“Well,” Franklin said, “me, combined with your delectable potato battery exhibit.”
“Yeah, those were awesome,” Scott said, hefting his antique radio up on top of the Leyden casket. “Remember when you—”
“You really shouldn't put your radio there,” Victor interrupted. “The casket's open.”
“It's just for a second. I can't quite reach the thingamajig when it's on the floor.” Scott turned, and bumped the radio with his elbow. It plunged into the harmonic fluid and sank to the bottom of the casket. The blue liquid bubbled and crackled.
“Don't worry,” Scott said. “I'll get it.”
“Young Master Weaver, perhaps you should step away from the casket,” Franklin urged him. “It is not safe.”
“Don't worry,” Scott said, plunging his hands into the harmonic fluid. “The radio wasn't working anyway.”
“Scott!” Victor yelled. “Don't!”
Scott fished around inside the casket. His hair stood straight up, and his eyes glowed turquoise. “It tingles!” He flashed an electric smile as he lifted out the soaking radio.
“Are you okay?” Victor asked.
“Sure,” Scott said. “Maybe it even fixed the radio.”
He flicked on the power switch and a horrible grating static blared from the speaker. The lights in the basement surged briefly.
“Nope, it's still broken,” Scott said, over the static.
“Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”
Franklin growled.
Victor and Scott looked up from the radio. Their faces went pale.
“What's going on?” Scott said, slowly backing up.
“I don't know. It's like he's supercharged.”
“But isn't that battery belt you invented supposed to keep him normal?”
Franklin lurched forward, his arms outstretched. He collided with a table, spilling beakers of cobalt and liquid franklinogen all over the floor. Victor tried to race out of the way but slipped, fell, and struck his head on a Leyden jar.
Scott clutched his radio and cowered behind the electrophone.
“Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggghhhh!”
With one hand, Franklin flipped the electrophone on its side, smashing gauges and crushing pipes. He charged at Scott, madness in his eyes.
Victor blinked hard, trying to shake off the pain of his fall.
Franklin staggered closer to Scott, his clawlike fingers trembling with rage.
Wait a minute!
Victor thought. “Scott! Turn off the radio!”
“But it's broken!”
“TURN IT OFF!”
Scott flicked the switch, and the radio fell silent. Franklin froze in place.
The old man looked startled. He scanned the room. “Good heavens, such a mess! What happened? Gentlemen, are you all right?”
The boys stared at Franklin.
“You don't remember, do you?” Victor asked.
“Of course I remember,” Franklin said. “Young Master Weaver pulled his machine from the Leyden casket, he turned it on, and . . . and . . . what
did
happen?”
“After Scott turned on his radio, you went crazy—like you were supercharged.”
“And when I turned off my radio,” Scott continued, “you stopped going crazy.”
Franklin reached for a stool. “Let me sit down and think this through.” He clenched his eyes shut and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “All I recall is that I had an unstoppable urge to tear the radio from your hands and smash it to pieces.”
They all looked at Scott's radio. “Remarkable,” Franklin said.
“See?” Scott said. “I told you it was broken.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Strangers at the Door
Victor and Scott
did their best to straighten up the lab. Most of it could be easily repaired, but the electrophone was severely damaged. It would take considerable effort to get it working again.
As they cleaned up, Franklin sat slumped on a stool, recuperating.
“You don't look well,” said Victor. “Maybe you should lie down.”
Franklin mopped his brow with a handkerchief. “Perhaps just something to drink. And a morsel of food might be good. I'm still feeling a bit unsteady.”
Victor and Scott helped Franklin up the ladder to his apartment. They took special care to close the secret bookcase behind them.
“Victor,” Franklin asked, “what is that smell?”
A tantalizing aroma drifted down from Victor's apartment. The three of them headed upstairs to investigate. Mrs. Godwin was in the kitchen, baking.
“Hey, Mom,” said Victor. “That smells delicious. What is it?”
“It's for tomorrow's breakfast is what it is. Don't get any ideas.”
“But—”
“No buts. You'll spoil your dinner.” She opened the oven and pulled out a tray of blueberry muffins. “Oh, Mr. Benjamin! I didn't see you there.”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Godwin. I hope I'm not intruding.”
Victor's mom smiled warmly at the old man. “Don't be silly. You know you're always welcome here. Please, sit down and have a muffin. You too, Scott. They're fresh from the oven.”
Franklin winked at Victor. “
Eat to live, and not live to eat,
I always say. Except where muffins are concerned!”
“Thanks, Mrs. Godwin,” said Scott. He sat down at the table next to Franklin and took a bite. “My mom makes muffins too. She says hers are healthy, but I like yours better.”
“Thank you, Scott . . . I think.” Mrs. Godwin handed a muffin to Victor. “So what are you boys up to?”
“Just working on some new projects,” said Victor.
“Naturally.” She shook her head. “Mr. Benjamin, I hope the boys aren't bothering you.”
“Not in the least, Mrs. Godwin. In fact, Victor and Scott both have quite a talent for inventing. It is all I can do to keep up with them.”
Mrs. Godwin pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. “So were you in the inventing business before you retired?”
“I dabbled,” said Franklin. “I also worked with the public library, the post office, and the fire department. I was a printer for a while. I also worked in government.”
“It sounds like a fascinating life,” said Mrs. Godwin. “Can I get you another muffin?”
“I would be most obliged,” said Franklin. “They are magnificent.”
“You too, Scott?”
“Yes, please.”
“Mom, can I—”
“You can have your second one for breakfast tomorrow.” She took the plate of muffins to the counter and covered them. “Now I have some work to do in the study. While I'm in there, those muffins are off-limits. Understood?”
Victor sighed.
Mrs. Godwin walked down the hallway and closed a door behind her.
“Hey,” Scott said, peering out the window, “it's those guys from the parade—they're in your yard. See?”
Victor joined Scott at the window. The brothers from the Right Cycle Company were slinking around the yard, peeking in the downstairs windows, opening the mailbox, lifting up a flowerpot.
“It's like they're searching for something,” Victor said. “But what? Let's get a closer look, Scott.”
“A closer look? But—but they're vampires!”
“Victor has assured me that there are no such things as vampires,” Franklin said. “Assuming this is true, I'd say further investigation is an excellent idea.” He stood to join them.
“No, Ben,” Victor insisted. “The voice from the electrophone told us that you need to stay out of sight. If those guys have some connection with the Great Emergency, we can't let them know that you've been awakened.”
Franklin frowned. “I suppose you're right, Victor. I shall watch from up here. Do be careful.”
Victor raced down the stairs, dragging Scott behind him.
They peered out the window beside the front door.
“We'll go about it scientifically,” said Victor, trying not to sound afraid. “First, we have to gather data. Let's see if we can figure out what they're up to.”
The brothers darted back and forth across the yard, picking up random objects, examining them briefly, and then dropping them. They pressed their ears against the ground, the car, and the walls of the house.
“Now it looks like they're listening for something,” said Victor. “But what?”
“Vampires are bats, right?” said Scott. “And bats have super hearing. That's how they see!”
“Actually, bats have pretty good eyesight,” said Victor. “And if these two
were
vampires, they wouldn't be running around in the middle of the day. In the movies, vampires vaporize in sunlight.”
“That's why they're wearing hats and sunglasses. Hey, where are they?”
Victor looked out the window. “I think they're gone.” He pulled the door open a crack.
BOOK: Benjamin Franklinstein Meets the Fright Brothers
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