This is why I should not be allowed access to a computer after watching Peter Lorre movies. (Hehehe...Peter Lorre...) Anyway, I don't own M. If I did, I would be much wealthier and, most likely, dead. So please don't sue me. I'm a college student and I have no money.
Blood and Oranges
Mutti always said I should never talk to strangers. She is always worried about me, but more especially now. Something bad has been happening lately. She won't tell me what it is, but I hear her and Vatti talking at night. Children have been disappearing. Elsie, the washerwoman's daughter from down the road, vanished last week on her way home from school. We are afraid of the child-murderer, a monster in the streets of our city. So I am not to talk to strangers.
But the man I've just met is not a monster. He looks just like everyone else. He smiles and makes jokes like everyone else - how could he be a monster? His name is Hans but I call him "Uncle". It makes him smile and I am glad to make him smile. He seems lonely.
My new Uncle Hans takes me all over town. He whistles while we walk, a song I remember from Vatti's opera records. "In the Hall of the Mountain King." We look in all of my favorite shops and he seems as delighted with the toys and dolls as I am. He even buys me a present - two oranges, my favorite fruit. He says that they are his favorite too. He has a very interesting knife that he uses to peel the fruit. It's just the handle at first but them he pushes a button and the blade pops out like magic. He says that it's called a switchblade. I've never seen anything like it before.
A funny thing happens while we are eating the oranges. A man comes along and pretends to slip on the orange peel. He grabs Uncle Hans to keep his balance. Then he yells something about "Watch where you throw those orange peels!" But he didn't really trip. I saw him. He only pretended.
This upsets Uncle Hans a little so we walk away quickly. He doesn't seem to like to talk to other people. Just me. That makes me feel special...and a little nervous. He's a grownup. Grownups aren't supposed to be afraid of strangers. Only little children like me have to be afraid of strangers, right?
The man who fell got Uncle Hans' coat all dirty. I point this out to him and try to brush the mark off. It looks just like a big letter "M". How funny! While I am so close to him, I notice something. He smells very strongly of oranges - a nice smell, one of my favorites - but there is something else underneath. Something not nearly so nice. It smells slightly metallic and it makes me a little sick. I'm not sure what that smell is, but it scares me a little. I stop trying to clean Uncle Hans' coat and back away a little.
Now Uncle Hans can see the mark in a reflective window. I don't know what the "M" on his coat means but it frightens him. And now there are other men on the street, walking toward us. Uncle Hans pushes me away. "Go home, Inga," he says, his voice high and panicked, like a scream he doesn't want to let out. I'm glad to go. That voice and that smell scare me.
I run away home while those men chase after Uncle Hans. As I run, I realize what that smell must have been and who Uncle Hans really was. And I know that, from now on, I'll always listen to my Mutti and not talk to strangers. Especially not strangers who only like to be around little girls and keep funny little knives in their pockets. Especially not strangers who smell like blood and oranges.
Blood and Oranges
Mutti always said I should never talk to strangers. She is always worried about me, but more especially now. Something bad has been happening lately. She won't tell me what it is, but I hear her and Vatti talking at night. Children have been disappearing. Elsie, the washerwoman's daughter from down the road, vanished last week on her way home from school. We are afraid of the child-murderer, a monster in the streets of our city. So I am not to talk to strangers.
But the man I've just met is not a monster. He looks just like everyone else. He smiles and makes jokes like everyone else - how could he be a monster? His name is Hans but I call him "Uncle". It makes him smile and I am glad to make him smile. He seems lonely.
My new Uncle Hans takes me all over town. He whistles while we walk, a song I remember from Vatti's opera records. "In the Hall of the Mountain King." We look in all of my favorite shops and he seems as delighted with the toys and dolls as I am. He even buys me a present - two oranges, my favorite fruit. He says that they are his favorite too. He has a very interesting knife that he uses to peel the fruit. It's just the handle at first but them he pushes a button and the blade pops out like magic. He says that it's called a switchblade. I've never seen anything like it before.
A funny thing happens while we are eating the oranges. A man comes along and pretends to slip on the orange peel. He grabs Uncle Hans to keep his balance. Then he yells something about "Watch where you throw those orange peels!" But he didn't really trip. I saw him. He only pretended.
This upsets Uncle Hans a little so we walk away quickly. He doesn't seem to like to talk to other people. Just me. That makes me feel special...and a little nervous. He's a grownup. Grownups aren't supposed to be afraid of strangers. Only little children like me have to be afraid of strangers, right?
The man who fell got Uncle Hans' coat all dirty. I point this out to him and try to brush the mark off. It looks just like a big letter "M". How funny! While I am so close to him, I notice something. He smells very strongly of oranges - a nice smell, one of my favorites - but there is something else underneath. Something not nearly so nice. It smells slightly metallic and it makes me a little sick. I'm not sure what that smell is, but it scares me a little. I stop trying to clean Uncle Hans' coat and back away a little.
Now Uncle Hans can see the mark in a reflective window. I don't know what the "M" on his coat means but it frightens him. And now there are other men on the street, walking toward us. Uncle Hans pushes me away. "Go home, Inga," he says, his voice high and panicked, like a scream he doesn't want to let out. I'm glad to go. That voice and that smell scare me.
I run away home while those men chase after Uncle Hans. As I run, I realize what that smell must have been and who Uncle Hans really was. And I know that, from now on, I'll always listen to my Mutti and not talk to strangers. Especially not strangers who only like to be around little girls and keep funny little knives in their pockets. Especially not strangers who smell like blood and oranges.