Wishful Thinking

I do not own Bill Boggs or anyone else in Edward Scissorhands...I am too tired to debate on the subject of who owns Tim Burton. The point: Don't sue me. Please, please, please. Don't sue me.

(Told in Voice of Bill Boggs)

Ed was a good guy. He was, he truly was. Treated Peg with respect, and he listened to me.

A true gentleman, Edward. Yeah...a real nice guy.

Shame that he had to go and do something like that.

I always had my suspicions about Joyce...something about her wasn't right. She dressed like a teenager; tight clothes, heavy make-up, fluffy hair. For God's sakes, sometimes I just feel like going up to her and telling her to act like the forty-one-year old she is. Be a mother to her kids, cook, and...knit, or whatever she thinks will contribute her family. She needs to shape up, that Joyce.

I saw her flirting with Ed at the barbecue...Heck, anyone with eyes could've seen it. Makes me sick, physically sick...Ed's probably only half her age, the poor kid. Dave tried to pretend not to notice, poor guy, but it was useless. We all saw. We all knew.

Ed wouldn't harm a fly. He wouldn't rape, I know that for sure. I think, maybe, that it was the other way around, and Joyce...well, I...it's hard to talk about, since Ed was so close to our family. It's hard to figure out what really happened. Sometimes, I don't even want to know—just let the past be the past, and just plain forget about it.

It's hard to forget about the guy, though. He was a good boy, and he was handy, too. Did magic to the hedges, and it's hard to copy his work (I've tried). But I'd say he liked being bossed around by women, if I didn't know better, which I don't...He did whatever Peg or Kim told him to do, without one complaint. Poor kid...sometimes I wish I'd done better with him, told him to stay away from Joyce. Warned him.

And then there was the robbery. I still have trouble figuring out that one. It was just all of a sudden, Peg and I were watching TV and the phone rang. Then, next thing I know, I'm driving Peg over to the police station—it's hard to remember, since it seemed to go so fast.

Damn those TV programs. Damn them all to hell. I mean, no wonder kids are so messed up these days! Violence, gangs, drugs, rape...the list goes on and on and on! Makes me wonder what this county's coming to...

I still don't know what happened on Christmas Eve, with Kevin and Ed. Now, I had been confused, amused, and, I'll admit, even annoyed with Ed, but this was the first time I was angry at Edward. I guess I didn't understand at the time, but when I saw Ed slicing Kevin up, I didn't really believe what I was seeing. I didn't know, Ed had only just saved my son... I didn't, and I wish I did.

I wish I'd known then what I know now. Maybe things would be different if I did. But that's just wishful thinking.

I've tried and tried to ferret some answer out of Kim what went on...how everything went, but, my gosh, she's become so weepy. I can't blame her; I've become a little blue myself.

Peg's been real sad, too, poor gal... She's not sold an Avon product for over a month, but I doubt that's why she's so glum. Everyone in the neighborhood makes excuses, but we all know we miss him. We're not the same—actually, no, we are the same—we want to be different and have Ed around again. Some of the dogs are even starting to howl and make a ruckus, no doubt looking for Edward the Barber. Hell, even the dogs miss the guy!

Well, we can't raise the dead.

Ed's...gone, and so is Jim. I liked Jim. He was a good guy, too. Knew what he was talking about...He seemed like a good boyfriend to my Kimmy. They really liked each other, it seemed.

But why in the blazes did Jim and Ed kill each other? I mean, yeah, I heard a few harsh comments when I was putting up the roof's decorations, but is that enough to kill someone? It was so sudden.

I remember when Kim came back from the Hill as clear as a bell.

"Dad." Her voice was real quiet and shaky, "Mom."

"Honey!" Peg gasped, as she got up and put her hands to Kim's face. "Kim, are you alright? Where were you? Your father and I were worried sick, honey!"

I noticed Kim had something red on her dress's shoulder. It was blood. This meant trouble, for sure.

"I'm fine, Mom." She said, teary-eyed. I knew she wasn't. "Mom..."

"C'mon, honey, sit down. Is that blood? It's blood! Oh my!" Peg spun towards me, "Bill, get the first aid kit! Kim's been hurt!"

I didn't waste my time, and I got the kit. We already had it out, because of all the cuts and bruises on Kevin. Kevin was still lying down in bed, terrified. Poor boy...

When I got back, Kim was crying on Peg's shoulder. Peg motioned for me to come closer, and I did.

"Kimmy, what happened?" Peg asked, soothingly. "Sweetie, do you want something to drink? Hmm? To make you feel better, honey?"

Kim was practically a grown-up, a senior in high school, but we never saw her that way, Peg and I. She was still our little girl, she would always be our little girl...

"No, no, no..." Kim cried, muffled under the cloth of Peg's Christmas jacket. "No, no, no..."

"Oh my God, what happened?" I asked, starting to peel off a band aid wrapper, "Are you okay, Kimmy? Where'd all this blood come from...? Gosh, it's a lot of blood!"

Then—right out of nowhere—Kim said, "Jim's dead!"

This hit us both like a slap in the face; A bullet through the heart.

"Edward's...dead, too."

Another slap on the face, another shot in the heart.

Silence. Not one word.

Peg's voice was urgent, "Are you sure? This...honey, are you sure? Maybe they only—"

"No, Mom. They," Kim paused, she sniffled and sobbed a bit, "They killed each other!"

Peg's jaw dropped, making her glasses slip down her nose and off her face. Peg started to cry. I felt terrible—so terrible.

"But...no. But how...no!" I said, shaking my head, not believing a thing, "This...no..."

Kim collapsed to the floor and cried, softly. Heartbroken, she was so heartbroken, my little girl...Who wouldn't? She had just lost Jim, a really important person in her life. She never liked Edward, which is funny, because everyone else did—I tried to talk to her about it once, but the girl only gave me a smarmy attitude...

This was, by far, the worst Christmas Eve I have ever had. I want to forget about it; I think everyone wants to forget about it.

But that's just wishful thinking.

The End.