Not so long ago (back in the mid-1990's), I was naught but a pimply-faced high school boy with nothing much going for me. My name is Raul and grew up in the suburbs of Chicago. I was a decent student, but I didn't make friends well. I read a lot and never really got into video games or sports. The only "friendship" that I had formed by the end of freshman year was with this kid named Jerry. He was far from popular as well. You know how in movies, especially ones from the eighties, there's this kid with headgear for his braces, is kind of smart, but everyone seems to give him a hard time? Well, that was Jerry, except he also was really into heavy metal. Not just the bands, but the magazine, and the movie spawned by the stories in the magazine. He had a collection that stretched all the way back to the late seventies. I had no idea where he got them, but we would spend whole weekends in his parents' basement going through these fantastic stories.

          Well around sophmore year, driving around one fall night in my parents' van, we started discussing whether or not it would be possible for us to create our own "Frankenstein's monsters". To make a long story short, a couple of unpopular, but very creative, young guys started raiding local graveyards for recently buried bodies. Trying to pull this off in DuPage county (just outside of Chicago, IL) was not easy. Unlike, the 1800's when young Victor was attempting the same thing, there were tons of lights and police patroling the streets. Also unlike Victor, we had the convience of large freezers in both of our parents' basements (we told our parents that were working on a science fair experiment; being honors students and never having gotten any detentions lent us quite a bit of credibility). Even though it took a few months, and whole lot of freezer bags, we finally cobbled enough parts together to make two men.

          So in early spring, we spent our nights and weekends in each other's basements, sewing the pieces together. By Easter break, we had completed the bodies and at last we inserted the brains. That Good Friday, there were terrible thunderstorms all day and night. Originally we had planned on hooking the bodies up to my parents' van and "jump-starting" them. Instead, Jerry's parents had to leave town since his grandmother had fallen ill and let him spend the weekend with my family. While my parents were at the store, we were able to get my body over to Jerry's back yard. We laid out the bodies on some plywood and saw horses. While the storm raged, we disconnected Jerry's father's ham radio antenna from the radio and connected a couple of sets of jumper cables to the bodies. We waited and waited. Finally around two in the morning, a strong bolt of lightning struck the antenna. The bodies smoked and steamed, but other than that nothing much happened.

          Dejected, we hauled the bodies into Jerry's basement, intending to spend the rest of the weekend disposing of them. Saturday, came and went. We were stuck helping my father with yard work. Early Sunday morning, we went back to Jerry's since he had forgotten his suit for church. I was sitting at the kitchen table, wishing he would hurry so that we could meet my parents at church, when I heard a crash in the basement. Jerry came rushing down stairs and we both stared at the basement door, then each other. Slowly, we opened the door and crept down the stairs. Instead of two bodies lying on the floor under sheets, we saw the saw horse strewn across the floor and the bodies walking around, clumsily peering into the freezer and the washer and dryer.

          Jerry ran back to the kitchen. We had to leave for church or my parents would be pissed. Jerry came back with a huge bowl of salad, some apples, a couple of bananas, cheese, a loaf of bread, and a stack of salami. I ran back up and filled a couple plastic pitchers with water. We left these in the middle of the basement floor, praying that these "monsters" might have enough memory of their former lives realize what to do with the food.

          We made it to church, a little late, but only a minute or two, and my parents were none the wiser. Afterwards, we headed back to Jerry's. Somehow, the men had figured out how eat and were both napping. Thus, Walter and Chauncey were born!

          We waited until mid-afternoon when they awoke. We were lucky and had apparently procured fresh enough brains. They Were able to speak and understand us.

          In the interest of space, let me give you a brief eplaination to bring you up to the current time.

          Jerry's parents came home, while we were in the basement and found us with our monsters. They immediately contacted my parents, who rushed over. Everyone was pissed at us. I don't think I have ever seen my father so red and so enraged, before or since. Our mothers were both in tears, questioning us and each other on what could have gone wrong, hadn't they raised us right and been good parents?

          Since we couldn't just abandon our creations, Walter came home with me and Chauncey stayed with Jerry. Through the rest of the school year and most of the summer, we did our homework with them, trying to teach them and work with them to be functioning people. In the summer, everyday was spent at the library and the local coffee shop with them. Although Walter was quick to pick things up, Chauncey was a little slower and clumsier, but he still got by.

          Eventually, our parents had had enough. Since neither of us had jobs and neither of our families was well off, the person per household was beginning to be a drain. Jerry's father had been doing some research. Apparently, although not widely known, in southern Illinois, in a town called Rattelsnake Creek, there was a farm. It was a working farm, sort of like a halfway house for ex-cons. Instead, though, it was a sanctuary for "Frankenstein" monsters, like Walter and Chauncey. We drove them down and there they stayed.

          Jerry and I went to visit them every-so-often and the seemed pretty content. Jerry and I graduated high school and went off to college. In 1998, there was a fire at the sanctuary. I don't know what happened. Although Jerry and I made queries around town and checked all of the local papers, we could not find any details. We had just graduated college and were feeling guilty since we had not slacked off in our letters and visits through the course of the previous year. It is now September of 2004 and, although Jerry and I still talk from time to time, we have not heard any news of Walter and Chuancey since.

          This web page is web page is a dedication to my friend and my creation, Walter. I miss him, a lot. In many ways (although more so) it is like losing a pet when you are young and looking back as an adult and wishing that you had been there more, had been a better friend and regretting it the rest of your life. I hope that I can do him justice. I hope that, maybe, he's out there somewhere. We never did find his or Chauncey's bodies in the burned out shell of the sanctuary.