The Sound Machine by Roald Dahl

The Sound Machine by: Roald Dahl (Audiobook)

It is a summer afternoon, warm, and Klausner walks through a garden to a wooden shed which houses a drab room adorned with a wooden workbench on which sit wires, batteries, tools with sharp edges and three-foot long black box which resembles nothing so much as a coffin for a child. For the next hour, Klausner pokes and prods the interior of the box, studies drawings on a sheet of paper, checks connections, fiddles with the dials and stares intently at the mechanism within the box. During this entire series of events, he is consistently carrying on a one-side conversation with himself.

Suddenly, he is interrupted by the arrival of Scott the Doctor who announces he has dropped in to see how he’s doing with his sore throat. Klausner tersely informs him that it has healed and the Doctor instantly feels the tension in the air. When he inquires if Klausner is at work making a radio, the reply is that he is simply “fooling around.” Klausner becomes increasingly more tense and distracted as the Doctor presses on with his amiable yet pointless small talk. To the Doctor’s suggestion that the appearance of the thing in the box is rather frightening, Klausner replies more cryptically: “It’s just an idea.” The Doctor makes as if he is ready to leave Klausner to his work, but fails to physically carry out this intimation. Resigned to the inevitable, Klausner agrees to tell him more since he is so interested.

Klausner then proceeds to describe the idea of sound waves which cannot be detected by the limiting hearing range of human ears. Using the dog whistle as an example, Klausner hypothesizes that the scope of sound which exists but cannot yet be heard is potentially infinite, possibly vibrating in excess of a million times per second…or a million times that.

Increasing in excitement as he expounds upon the theoretical possibilities, Klausner suggests that perhaps music is being created so powerful that if it anyone were to hear it, they would be driven mad. He spots a fly and wonders aloud of the unheard wealth of sounds being produced by that simple creature. The Doctor, apparently considering Klausner the victim of fanciful obsessions, forwards the query of whether that is the sort of thing his friend is pursuing with such vigor. At this point, Klausner admits to having made a machine that confirmed his foundational hypothesis through a needle recording the movement of vibrations in the air despite the fact that he could not actually at the time detect any sound at all. Klausner explains that he wants to know where those sounds are coming from and what or whom is their source. He then elaborates on the nature of the machine the Doctor found him working upon so earnestly: it is designed to convert inaudible sounds to audible tones, almost like a radio does. Upon learning that Klausner is preparing to put the machine to an experimental test later that night, the Doctor finally excuses himself and makes his exit. Klausner turns his attention back to the box, wires, dials, etc. Struggling to carry the box into the garden, he sets it upon a small table. Procuring a set of earphones, he continues his incessant conversation with himself almost as if afraid if he stops speaking, it will ensure failure of the test.

The afternoon has escaped and it is now evening. Klausner stands there in the sunless, windless night; even those sound which any working human ear could detect are absent. He peers over the fence into the garden next door where a woman walks with a flower-basket swinging from her arm. He stares without seeing, lost in thought as he turns to the box and depresses a switch. With one hand he adjusts the volume and with the other controls a knob which sends a needle over a large dial marked with a series of numbers of between 15,000 and 1,000,000. He cocks and ear and listens intently as the need makes it way across the dial so slowly it might almost appear as it weren’t actually moving at all. Inside the earphones come the faint sound of crackling and, beneath it and even fainter, a hum. But the humming is merely the sound of the machine in movement. A strange sensation feeling like his ears begin expanding outward until they become like thin tentacles—antennae more than ears—washes over him. He realizes that his hearing ability is stretching outward toward the ultrasonic spectrum; dangerous territory never visited before and perhaps a place which humans should never know.

The need continues its slow slither across the dial until suddenly there is a loud, piercing, terrifying shrieking sound that causes him to jump. He looks around expectantly as if he might spot the source of the shriek standing somewhere in proximity. But no one else is anywhere near except the woman in the neighboring garden and he is certain she was not the source of a such dread-inducing reverberation. In fact, she was just then bending over to snip some yellow roses and collect them for her basket.
But then the shriek recurs, sounding absolutely inhuman and even metallic in origin. Again, Klausner looks for the source and again the only living creature in sight is the neighbor lady who by then was snipping stems of her roses. And then, a third time, the awful apocalyptic scream.

At that moment, Klausner knew he was looking at the source of that sound. And he was right: it was inhuman. It was, in fact, the sound of the body of a flower being viciously sliced in two.
The women rises, places the scissors into her basket and turns to leave. Klausner cries out for her, his voice rising to a level of shrill excitement at the mention of her name: “Mrs. Saunders!”

The woman responds by looking around and catching sight of her neighbor as he stands strangely on the lawn: a small little man with earphones who is waving his arms madly at her, repeating her name in a tone so unnaturally high it strikes her a sense of heightened and intense alarm. He is saying something to her, calling across the fence, seemingly making the strangest request for her to cut another one of her roses. When she asks why, he simply begs her to do so. Mrs. Saunders stands there instead, creeping perilously close to treading over the border separating her view of Klausner as merely eccentric rather than dangerously disturbed. She considers fetching her husband from inside the house briefly before coming down on the side of common sense. He is merely being more peculiar than normal. She bends down and snips another stem and Klausner hears another shriek before he rips the earphones from his head, races to the fence and begs her to cut no more. Mrs. Saunders stands there utterly confused with a yellow rose clasped in one hand and her scissors in the other.

Klausner proceeds to tell her of his experiment, his machine and his discovery. Upon hearing the climax of this story—that her roses scream when snipped—Mrs. Saunders treads back the other way toward the border, now convinced that her neighbor is worthy of such precaution that she plans to be safely nestled back inside her home within the next five seconds. Meanwhile, Klausner points out the obvious: that a rose has no central nervous system and as such likely could not feel pain to the point of reacting in such a way, but asking the pertinent question: “How you do know that a rose bush doesn’t feel” pain when its stems are sliced through. Mrs. Saunder politely responds to the possibility of the affirmative before quickly turning and beating a path to her door. Klasner turns back as well, heading to the box seated on the little table. Earphones back in, he hears nothing but the crackling and humming. He then bends down to pick up a daisy from the lawn and slowly tugs at it until the stem of the flower is broken. The entire process involved in physically tearing the fragile construction of the daisy in two produces a high-pitched squeal; a crying out in pain that is unnervingly inanimate. Another daisy torn produced the same result and closer scrutiny reveals that he was wrong; it isn’t a cry of pain at all. It is an exclamation of unexpected alarm; a shock of astonishment.

Or was it any of those things at all? No human emotion could accurately be applied to that inhuman sound precisely because it was inhuman. It was terrible to the human ear because precisely because it was devoid of any recognizable sensory elements. A howling cry, yes. A ghastly production of vibrations, to be sure. But ultimately a sound most fearful because it was emotionally neutral; sound without feeling. And expression of nothingness; the resonance of the abyss. Klausner accepts that he had been entirely mistaken to identify it as the sound of something crying out in pain and sits in restful assurance that in all likelihood a flower does not actually feel pain.

They felt something for sure, there was no denying that. But whatever that feeling was, it was something alien to man, unknown and probably unknowable. With that, Klausner rises, removes the earphones and look at the pinpricks of light shining through the trees from all around him. He picks up the box and replaces it on the workbench, exits the shed, locks the door and retires to his home.
At the buttcrack of dawn the next day, Klausner is up and getting dressed and heading to the shed. He lifts the machine into arms, carries it through the door, past the house, through the fence gate, across the road and into the park across the way. He takes a moment to pause and reflect, looking around until he spots a big beech tree under which he delicately sets the machine, close to the trunk. He heads back home to get an axe and returns to the park, placing the axe delicately on the ground beside the tree. He peers cautiously around to see if anyone is watching him. So early in the morning, there was nobody yet there to watch.

The earphones go back on, the machine is switched on and humming and Klausner bends over to pick up the axe. He spreads his legs wide and swings into the base of the tree with as much force as his small little body can muster. The blade goes deep and remains stuck and in that instant, he hears the most amazing sound he or anyone has ever heard: not a high-pitched shriek, but a guttural growl that isn’t over in the blink of an eye, but is long and drawn out, lasting for perhaps an entire minute and attaining loudest volume at the moment of the axe made contact before gradually fading into nothingness.

Klausner recoils from the sight of the gash he has made in the trunk with horror but is unable to stop from touching the damage and apologizing to the beech, insisting the damage is not permanent and that the wound will heal. Finally, he scurries out of the park to his home where he phones the Doctor and begs him to cover over immediately, insisting in his anguished voice that it is an emergency. As he waits for Scott to arrive, his mind wanders to the sound the tree made; a sound far worse than any noise ever made by any human. His thoughts then move toward fields of wheat and massive gardens coming under the blades of agriculture and almost certainly producing a sound impossible to imagine in its horror. He struggles for rationalization and justification: apples surely can’t produce such sounds because they are made to fall to the ground from trees. Carrots, cabbages and onions would surely not be capable of producing such sounds. Potatoes? No way, surely!

When the Doctor arrives, he is amazed to see that Klausner no longer seems as disturbed and excited as he’d been when he called. In fact, Klausner now seems almost placid or serene. Certainly, at the very least, he is no longer on the verge of hysteria. Klausner fills the Doctor in on the events which have taken place since last they conversed. He pushes the man to put on the earphones and hear for himself. He then picks up the axe, confirms that the Doctor hears on only the faint humming sound and proceeds to strike at the tree with the blade a second time.

At the moment of impact, a large branch sixty feet in length breaks from the trunk and comes crashing down, nearly crushing them both. Klausner pries the axe blade from the tree and finally asks the Doctor if he heard the horrible growl. But the Doctor confesses that he didn’t hear anything, though he immediately pulled the earphones out when the threat of the falling limb because apparent. Klausner continues to push the Doctor to identify what he heard, causing Scott to become irritated that his friend isn’t more concerned about the threat to their life than the sound in his ears. Pointing to the gash in the tree, Klausner finally instructs the doctor to stitch the wound up to which the Doctor responds he cannot possibly stitch through wood and it is a silly request anyway. Klausner suggests that the pain could be treated with iodine, but the Doctor again demurs. Noticing that his friend now once again appears quite disturbed to the point of visibly tightening his grip on the axe, Scott the Doctor decides his best course of action is to get as far away from Klausner as fast as possible. But to that wise counsel given to himself, he also demurs and agrees to pain the tree with iodine at the source of the gash.

After going so, Klausner scrutinizes the damage done to the tree with the axe and decides that the doctor’s ministrations will suffice quite nicely. He asks that the Doctor return the next to examine the patient for progress and, if necessary, apply more iodine. The Doctor agrees to do so, Klausner drops the axe to the ground and the two of them head back across the street to Klausner’s home.

The Sound Machine Character List

Klausner

The main protagonist of the story, Klausner is a young boy with much intrigue about the world, especially with regards to the concept of sound. He spends much of the story intent on making a machine that can translate the sounds of inaudible living things, such as plants and wildlife. However, he is met with much resistance and eventually is unsuccessful.

Mrs. Saunders

A neighbor of Klausner, Mrs Saunders, is presented as a domestic gardener with little care for actual wildlife and plants. She does not seem to respond with empathy when Klausner explains to her that her actions in cutting off the roses are causing them extreme pain.

Dr. Scott

A kind and caring man who attempts to help Klausner identify the sounds make by plant life and help him build his machine. He claims not to be able to hear the sounds made from the plants, but perhaps this was to dissuade Klausner from being successful in his machine if it meant that wildlife would be harmed as a consequence.

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