Edward Scissorhands
CHAPTER ONE
There was no denying that it was an eyesore. For many years the neighbors had grumbled about the gothic castle perched precipitously high above their prim neighborhood, but they had never once considered actually doing anything about it. With their noses stuck so firmly in one another's business it was a rare occasion for them to even raise their eyelevel above the horizon; indeed some people would be hard pressed to tell you the color of the sky on a clear day! Even on those times when the castle did form an image on the back of someone's retina, it was of no consequence. That castle had stood for longer than anyone in the town could remember, and they saw no reason why anything should change.
It took an outsider to even introduce the idea, but once it had been introduced it invaded every mind until it weeded out all other topics of conversation. Real-estate expert Dr. Moore had marched into Town Hall exactly one month ago and announced that the mountain and t he castle should be demolished. He proved scientifically that doing so would increase property value along with the general welfare of the community. His graphs and charts lit dreams of renewed prosperity in the minds of the villagers. People began to stare skyward at the silhouette of the caste and imagine shopping malls and movie theaters in its place.
Since its original conception, the plan had advanced considerably. Countless meetings had been held in the Town Hall, as committees met to discuss the specifics of the project. Some dissenters had existed, but no longer. The long-forgotten legend of the invented boy with scissors for hands had resurfaced, but it took only a few speeches decrying superstition to kill all of those whispers. The Historical Building Association raised some legal resistance until the mayor transferred a large sum of money into their account. Soon not only had a contractor been hired, but the mall that would be erected in its place had been designed. The atmosphere sparked with anticipation as the day approached. However, the weather evidently had not been informed of the demolition schedule.
On the day that the house itself was to be demolished, nasty thunderheads drifted threateningly on the horizon. After a hurried meeting and several glances at the sky, they decided to chance it. As long as they worked quickly they would be fine. Tomorrow's weather promised to be no better; the next week was to be one storm after another. They set off along the winding driveway confident about their decision.
On arrival they made a quick survey of the grounds and found the schematics provided by the city to be accurate. The topiaries unnerved the men, but not nearly as much as the approaching clouds. Preferring to not be struck by lightning, they hurried through the preliminary steps and were soon ready to begin. On command, they released the wrecking ball. With a resounding crash it pushed through the rock and a good portion of the wall collapsed in a shower of dust and plaster, which the wind merrily whipped about until all the garden sculptures were covered in a thin layer of dust.
The dust cleared, revealing the results of their handiwork. The men began picking their way through the debris, attempting to clear a path for them to move the equipment through, to continue the demolishing effort. The foreman could sense the electricity of the air. In particular the hand topiary at the center of the garden frightened him. In this wind it appeared to be clenching and unclenching. He felt a few drops of rain. They'd have to head down; it was getting dangerous.
Just as he was about to announce his decision, a shout from the lift operator stopped him. "Boss, quick! There's somebody here!" He raced over to where his man squatted next to what appeared to be a strange looking rock. On closer inspection, he realized that it was the torso of a man. The rest of the team had arrived, and they quickly began uncovering the body. His legs had been pinned under some heavy stones, and were twisted in a strange way; clearly they were broken. He had a nasty looking bump on his head and was unconscious. The men did their best to ignore the man's strange hands. Together they hauled his limp form to the pick up truck and careened down the driveway, just as the skies opened up.