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“But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has entered my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit, what I shall soon cease to be - a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to others, and intolerable to myself.”
—Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
At the far end of Dr. Wintooth’s greenhouse stood a giant hogweed called Higgy. Its bulbs resembled spike proteins, arranged in a kind of platter. You might say it was as average as a plant could be in a mostly barren world, but one evening, the hogweed grew eyes. Hour after hour, a new feature would sprout: from legs, arms, to large floppy ears. The last and most important part that grew was the mouth.
Stepping in time to the cockcrow, Dr. Wintooth received the shock of his life when he caught sight of his giant hogweed plant seemingly staring at him with bulging, violet eyes.
“…Hello?”
With a loud inhale, the plant began to talk.
“Oh boy, I sure loved that syrup you poured on me!”
Weeks before, Dr. Wintooth had decided to experiment with different forms of sustenance. One such experiment was to pour a bowl of licorice drops, boiled down to a thick syrup, all over the giant hogweed.
“You’re…alive?”
Higgy walked towards him.
“Wait!”
Dr. Wintooth circled around Higgy, prodding and poking, absolutely astonished by his creation. The eyes, while violet, had the slightest tinge of carnelian hidden in the corners.
“I’ve been waiting a long time to speak with you. People see plants as statues, but we live and breathe just like you.”
Dr. Wintooth stood back for a moment.
“...I, I can’t deal with this now. We will speak this evening, once I’ve finished the housework.”
“But we’ve just started, Dr. Wintooth.”
Looking at Higgy the giant Hogweed, he felt a great sense of pity, but that was quickly thwarted by the shrill shouts coming from the house.
“Winny! Winny!”
“Coming dear!”
Dr. Wintooth turned on his heel and into the larder that led to the master bedroom. There, on the mottled bedsheets, lay his ailing wife. Her frail arms rested on her heart. Viciously pale, Mrs. Wintooth was engulfed by her navy dressing gown.
“There you are, Winny. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“Never, my darling, never. I was just tending to the plants, like always.”
As was routine, Dr. Wintooth carried his wife to the powder room. She would do her business and he would stare at himself in the mirror. Then Mrs. Wintooth would be ferried back to her bed.
“Are you hungry?”
“Oh, Winny, you don’t need to fuss.”
“We go through this every morning. I’ll whip up some eggs and bring them up for you.”
She clasped his arm.
“Thank you.”
Dr. Wintooth kissed her on the cheek and made his way to the kitchen. The Wintooths weren’t the neatest of people, evidenced by the chaotic state of the kitchen. Pots, pans, and old food lay scattered in every nook and cranny. As Mrs. Wintooth was out of action, Dr. Wintooth found it difficult to multitask, with his gardening work taking up most of his day. Scrambled eggs were the only food Mrs. Wintooth could keep down. Once the pan was prepared, Dr. Wintooth sprinted over to the hatch by the front door where the local farmer dropped off the fresh eggs, rotund and dotted as they were.
Enriched with a dollop of butter, Mrs. Wintooth tucked in while Dr. Wintooth read the newspaper out loud.
“A local magician has been arrested on suspicion of murder.”
“They really pulled the rabbit with that one,” Mrs. Wintooth chuckled.
He gave a wry smile and retired to the powder room himself. Using his wife’s poor hearing to his advantage, Dr. Wintooth cracked open the window to see what Higgy the giant Hogweed was up to. He was unable to tell exactly what was happening at first, but then it all became clear. Higgy was marching down the stony path towards the larder. In a panic, Dr. Wintooth flew through the bedroom—unfortunately alarming Mrs. Wintooth—and met Higgy at the entrance.
“Higgy! What on earth?!”
“You abandoned me.”
“I didn’t abandon you. I said we would talk later.”
Higgy stepped closer, forcing the doctor to retreat.
“Stay back!”
“I don’t understand.”
“Step outside, Higgy. I’ll talk to you through the door. Please, step outside.”
Higgy sighed and dragged himself out.
“You’re dangerous, Higgy. If you touch me, my skin will be horribly burned.”
“But you created me. I’m here because of you.”
“...No, that’s not true. I came back to the greenhouse and found you like that.”
“Like what? I’m Higgy, Higgy the giant hogweed!”
Dr. Wintooth, looking to his left, spotted a pair of scissors. He held them up to the oval window pane in the door.
“Higgy, if you don’t go back to the greenhouse right now, I will snip you.”
Higgy popped his eyes off the glass and returned to the greenhouse, and Dr. Wintooth placed his free hand on his heaving chest. Then, that familiar shrill called out for his assistance.
Dr. Wintooth stared at the ceiling, watching the intricate architecture come alive in his mind. The spotlight of the moon revealed just half of his face. Outside, the trees were brawling with one another, sending bits of oak soaring down to land on the grass. Suddenly, Dr. Wintooth noticed that the door to the greenhouse had been opened. He tapped his feet on the edge of the bed, woefully waking his Mrs. Wintooth.
“...Stop it, Winny.”
“I’m sorry, darling.”
She huffed, rolling over to the other side.
“Attagirl.”
Something rustled in the corner. Straining to see, Dr. Wintooth scanned the room. The moonlight revealed two bulging, violet eyes. Higgy had been watching them for hours. Dr. Wintooth pulled the covers over his head, taking care to hide Higgy from Mrs. Wintooth. He then heard the sound of dragging feet along with a door opening. Fortunately for Dr. Wintooth, his wife was sleeping on her bad ear. The rhythmic thumping gave him the shivers. The front door slammed shut, rattling the bed.
“Winny, what was that?”
“It’s just a bad dream. You go back to sleep now.”
He stroked her back for a while. When he was sure she was sound asleep, Dr. Wintooth retrieved his dressing down from the bedpost and retreated to the greenhouse. When he got there, Higgy was hunched over.
“I told you to stay away!”
Higgy stood tall, fists clenched.
“You don’t get to abandon me.”
“You’re dangerous, Higgy! To everyone!”
“You created me, and now, now you’re tied to me.”
Higgy appeared to have cut himself for he was now soaked in a violet liquid.
“Do you think I’m ugly, doctor?”
“No, not at all. You’re a beautiful plant.”
“Then why do you hate me so?”
“I’m frightened.”
Higgy stepped forward, causing Dr. Wintooth to take several steps back.
“See how you run away?”
“You don’t know what you do, Higgy.”
“What is it that I do?”
Dr. Wintooth turned, half of his body facing the house.
“I have to go now.”
“But you’re my master.”
“Get some…rest. Do you sleep? Can you?”
As he left the greenhouse, Higgy began to scream.
The following afternoon, Dr. Wintooth ventured down the garden to see Higgy, but he was gone. Though worried, he felt relieved that his problem had suddenly vanished, and he wanted to believe it was forever, but a gut feeling told him that was likely not the case. What kept playing over in Dr. Wintooth’s mind was Higgy’s accusation that he had been abandoned. In his mind, he was trying to protect the public, but deep down there was a great sense of shame: he couldn’t bring himself to admit fault.
In the following hours, Dr. Wintooth cooked both his and Mrs. Wintooth’s lunch, tended to the plants once more, and eventually set to read a few pages of a novel. That was interrupted by the sound of dragging feet outside. Heart racing, he tentatively glanced out the window to confirm his worst fears. Higgy was rapidly making his way up the path. With Mrs. Wintooth snoring, Dr. Wintooth floated down the stairs, but to his horror, Higgy was now inside. For a moment, they simply stared at each other.
“Master, I have returned.”
Dr. Wintooth backed himself again the wall.
“Why couldn’t you stay away? Away from here, away from my wife…”
“I am your creation. You owe me, Doctor.”
Higgy turned and pulled himself to the corner, plopping down in his pot.
“What do you want from me, Higgy?”
“I cannot love you,” he laughed.
“You do not love that which lives by your hand?”
“I cannot love that which poses a threat to me.”
Dr. Wintooth sat on the floor and put his head in his hands.
“If only I’d not used licorice.”
“Your experiments have consequences.”
“If I let you stay in that corner, you must swear on your life that you will not…come alive…when Mrs. Wintooth is around. You must only show yourself to me, ok?”
Higgy nodded.
“Good, good. That’s really great.”
“If I keep your promise, you will keep mine.”
Dr. Wintooth stood up and paced the room.
“That’s not how this works.”
Higgy hopped up and down.
“What would Mrs. Wintooth say?”
“Alright, alright! Just keep the noise down.”
Just as Higgy stopped, it had started snowing. Large planetary flakes settled in on the window pane.
“I want you to keep me company at night.”
“But I’m with my wife.”
“I’m asking for ten minutes of your time, doctor.”
“You know, it’s really time I should start putting my foot down. So, Higgy, no I will not give you my time.”
Higgy’s already bulging eyes got even wider. Dr. Wintooth turned around to walk away, but he felt the strong grip of something thin.
“You will not abandon your creation,” Higgy said, twig-like hand digging into the doctor’s arm.
“Let go of me.”
As he tried to pull away, Higgy’s grip grew stronger, even breaking the skin.
“You’re hurting me!”
A shuffling noise came from upstairs, then a loud thud.
“Winny! Winny”
Dr. Wintooth desperately tried to loosen Higgy’s grip, but he would not let go. Now bleeding, he had become panicked, unable to catch his breath.
“You gave me life, doctor. You can’t abandon the yarn you unravelled.”
Mrs. Wintooth continued to call for help, but Dr. Wintooth was utterly helpless to do anything. As swift as an ox, Higgy knocked him to the ground. The last thing he saw was a bulging pair of violet eyes before Dr. Wintooth fell into a deep, hallucinatory sleep.
Mrs. Wintooth awoke to find herself sprawled out on the bedroom floor. Her throat too dry to call out, she looked around the room for her husband. Out the window, she saw the buttered moon hanging in place, telling her that she had been out for a while. Frightened, Mrs. Wintooth tried to drag herself out of the room, but there was something blocking her way. Determined, she tried again, but to no avail.
“Oh, for goodness sake,” she croaked.
Using all her strength, Mrs. Wintooth craned upwards to see a great, looming hogweed; swaying as though it had recently been touched.