I don't own NASA or anything to do with NASA. Just to let you guys know :) In fact, I've been to NASA headquarters and they're really cool, but I'm just making them the "bad" guys in this story because....I feel like it.
I was thrilled to hear from 'Katie' that she cried! That's so cool! Not that she cried, but that she was touched by my writing! Thank you, you really helped me creatively with this chapter. Again, thank you for saying that my story is 'beautifully written'.
Daniel—Please, bear with me here. I have an evil computer. I have been fighting a war with it for weeks, and I am definitely losing.
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Not Even Human—Chapter Six
Silence haunted the Walters' home. Not even the washing machine dared to guzzle and grumble downstairs.
Lucy and Bobby, who had been eves dropping from the livingroom, had their mouths open in surprise. Edward, who was standing next to the two children, looked confused, and he tried to let the things Kennedy said sink in.
"Wait a minute," Jake breathed, not believing a thing his cousin just said. "What do you mean exactly by...finishing him?"
"My God." Kevin snapped, nastily, "Are you blind? The boy's got scissors for hands."
"Yeah, but Edward couldn't be—"
"Edward, get in here." Kevin commanded, sternly. "Don't you think you're fooling anybody. I know you're listening in."
Edward stiffened, nervously, and his hands twitched more than ever. Edward, to be frank, was afraid of Kevin; there was something menacing about Kevin now that hadn't been there when he was a boy. An unpolished, impure gleam now spurted from Kevin's brown eyes, and it made Edward's stomach shrink with terror.
Kevin whacked his black cane on the floor, impatiently.
Lucy gave Edward a small nod and pushed him forward, encouraging him to obey Old Kevin. Bobby mouthed "Go. Go!" frantically, as if life itself depended on it.
Edward stepped out of the doorway, awkwardly. He saw the adults circled around the table, their eyes hooked onto him. Aunt Jill was biting her bubble gum pink lip.
"And how long will this take?" Jill asked.
"Not long." Was the short, sharp response from Kennedy.
Kevin told Edward to come closer to the table. Edward felt his heart ticking—that's right, ticking. Not thumping or beating, like most people's heart would go, but ticking like a grandfather clock. And it ticked wildly as Edward Scissorhands obediently walked up to the wooden kitchen table.
"How're we going to get him on an airplane? The metal detector is going to go nuts." Kennedy asked his father, quietly.
Kevin ignored his son completely.
"You want hands, don't you, Edward?" Kevin asked, loudly, as he looked Edward straight in the eye.
Edward's mind went numb from the very thought of it. He tried to steady himself by breathing deeply and keeping good posture. He felt his razor hands shiver and his dry mouth try to form words. He nodded his head, eagerly.
"And you are going to sign these papers willingly and wholly aware that anything that may happen to you in the damaging or deathly nature is not a liable excuse to sue NASA?" Kevin said.
"Yes." Edward said, his voice in awe.
"Then sign this," Kennedy said, and he slid the papers over to Edward.
A pen was placed infront of him and the thin line where his name was to be signed remained empty.
"He can't do it," Jillian said, abruptly, and then she gasped, "Oh, my! The poor boy!"
"For God's sake, get over yourself, Jill." Kevin growled toward the woman, hatefully.
Edward stood there quite bewildered, but a sudden shock of determination zapped though him and he carefully picked up the pen with two of his blades. It slipped. He tried again. It slipped and cracked open, letting ink drip over the scissor-blades.
"Poor boy! Oh, poor dear!" Jill sighed as she put her hand over her mouth.
Edward had an idea.
Edward carefully let his ink-covered silvery razors come near the paper. It would be easy just to write with his scissors, if he was gentle enough not to cut the paper.
He started, very slowly.
All the while, the family was staring at him, astonished. All were too amazed to try and help him.
E...D...
Edward wrote carefully, artistically as his father had once done. He had seen other people write his name for him, and why couldn't he? It wasn't that hard...
W...A...R...D
Edward stopped, letting the blue ink dry on the paper. He blew on it, to quicken the process.
S...C...I...S...S...O...R...H...A...N...D...S
That took him much struggle and time to finish, but he did it, nonetheless. Edward dotted the 'I' and ended with the 'S' having a nicely drawn curl. He shook some of the ink out of his blades, and stepped back, admiring his work.
Edward Scissorhands looked at the family, smiled politely, and left the room.
()()()()()()()()()
A high of emotion and action sparkled in the Walters' home the next few weeks. Bags were packed, cell phone calls were made, e-mails mailed, letters posted, tickets were bought, and a flow of news interviewers had flooded the front lawn.
"How does the idea of surgery effect you? What are you thinking? Are you nervous about the trial after your surgery? Did you or did you not kill Jim Higgins? What're your statements? How long have you been non-social? Are you Republican or Democrat?"
The constant stream of questions made Edward's thoughts get tangled and twisted. He wanted the TV reporters just to give it a rest and go away. He had enough on his mind; the trial that was scheduled after his surgery.
A stiff, terrible fear filled up his heart, and he felt sick just thinking about what would happen to him. They wouldn't say he was innocent, because he wasn't, and Edward knew it. He had made Jim spurt out that red stuff, go pale, and fall out the window. He had broken Jim. Edward knew he did something bad, but he didn't feel sorry for Jim—not really, because Jim had hit Kim and pushed her, slapped her...Edward became upset just thinking about what Jim had done.
Edward would never have hurt Kim. Not on purpose, not like Jim had done.
At last, the day came for him to go to the airport. His hands hand been wrapped up in cloth again, and he was dressed as normally as he could be. Kennedy and Kevin had given him a cold, stale friendship, and Edward trusted them, despite their dark looks and snappy comments.
Lucy had kissed Edward on the cheek, and told him to be very careful not to eat the food on the airplane. Bobby had waved good bye, as did the rest of the children of the block. Jill told him to keep her astringent and face powder. Jake and Frank looked impassive, mostly. Molly was especially concerned for Edward, for she didn't trust Ken or Kevin in the slightest.
The day was hot, although it was only a week away from Christmas Day. It might as well have been summer in Suburbia the way people were going about in swimsuits, swimming, and tanning out in their front lawns.
As they drove off, the children from the block, the interviewers, and Lucy chased the car out of the block.
"Bye, bye, Eddie!" Lucy shouted, waving her little hand.
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The flight had been fair enough, despite the turbulence, the stares from the passengers, the winks from the lady flight attendants, and the disgusting, hideous food.
He had thought of Kim, and if she was up in the clouds. He had heard people talk about her being in Heaven. He wasn't too sure on what that place was, but he had heard it was above. He wished Kim was with him.
Too many people were crammed together in an airplane and it made him terribly nervous.
The girl flight attendants had eyed Edward up and down, and they giggled, and flipped their hair. It was strange, really, really strange—and Edward had felt a hollow sort of confusion in his stomach. He thought of Joyce again.
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The headquarters was a gleaming, glowing blue building. But Edward couldn't gawk at it, because a crowd of people with signs and microphones pushed themselves up to the car.
"Damn!" Kevin shouted, banging his cane on the car's floor, "Protesters! Lord Almighty, when do they ever stop? It seems like every goddamn project we do, they've got some problem with it! "
Edward sunk in his seat, seeing the screaming people out of the car's tainted windows. They looked angry, dead angry, like a colony of bees disturbed from their hive.
"Go to the entrance anyway!" Kennedy instructed the driver, "I don't give a toss if we actually do run one of them over!"
In a flash, they were at the entrance, and Kennedy pushed Edward out of the car. A few bodyguards came into the scene and paved a way for them to get past the screaming, fuming, and pushing crowd.
The cloth on one of Edward's hands ripped, and as he was being forced through the mob, he accidentally cut the face of one of the shouting protestors. The wounded man fell backwards, his hands covering his bloody cheek. It was only a scratch.
"I'm sorry!" Edward apologized, worriedly, as he was being pulled away from the bloody protestor.
At first people gasped, then silence, and then they started to shout and scream even louder than before.
A girl barged out from the protestors. She had curly, frizzy brown hair, unforgiving grey eyes, and a sharp red mouth. Her voice was a bit lazy, but also solemn, serious, and darkly humorous—like a church organ. She was red-faced and her voice was raspy from screaming.
"It's a deformation of life!" The girl shouted in Kennedy's face, "And it must be put to death. Now!"
"You idiot." Ken said, shoving her aside, forcefully, "Edward is a scientific breakthrough!"
Edward looked at Kennedy, stunned. The girl was loud, scary, and a bit mean-spirited, but that was no excuse for treating her in such an ungentlemanly way. He was beginning not to like Kennedy very much.
"I am not a idiot and I don't wish to be called one." Snapped the girl, angrily, "You're only doing this because when it's over with—you're career will skyrocket. You're already in hot water with the government, Dr. Boggs. You've supported branches that pollute water, prevent medicine going to foreign countries, among other things!"
"If you and the rest of your nutty religious friends don't get off our property in half an hour," Kennedy threatened, snarling, "I'll call the police."
Edward turned toward the girl, but she growled and retreated back, "Don't come near me." She said, furiously.
"I don't—"Edward began, politely, but Kennedy pushed him forward through the crowd, forcefully.
They finally got into the building and the doors were closed shut. It was a cool contrast from the hot outdoors and the noisy protestors. Everything looked polished and white, like a wedding cake.
"Okay," Ken hissed in Edward's ear, as he pulled him inside the office, "Rule number one, Edward. Never, and I mean never, look, talk, or reason with these lunatics. That is, unless you're threatening them, okay?"
Edward frowned. His father had taught him to be agreeable to people, even if they were disagreeable to him.
"Was she telling the truth?" Edward asked, still frowning.
"What?" Ken snapped, annoyed, as he continued to push Edward down to the office lounge.
"That girl...about the medicine and water."
"No." Kennedy lied, but he was good at lying, "She's just one of the many demented losers out there, Edward. Get used to it."
Edward frowned even harder. He was starting to have a strong dislike for Kennedy.
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Edward was laying one his back, squinting his eyes from the blazing, smoldering light shining down on him. His arms were bolted to the operation table, as were his legs, and a sort of metal collar was locked tightly around his neck. Sharp, pricking needles were pushed into his face, making his skin go numb. A small table of knives, needles, scissors, bottles, and hooks was next to him. The tools glinted at him, menacingly.
He was utterly terrified.
It was bad enough that a group of surgeons were poking and prodding him, but also a looming dome-shaped window was above him. Edward's surgery was going to be watched by students at the local medical school.
Kevin was lecturing the surgeons on how to handle Edward's mechanics.
Edward was almost frantic, and he closed his eyes to block out the scary pins, the razor knives, the blinding light, and the clear needles. His mind was the only escape from the monstrous ordeal. His heart was ticking feverishly, now.
The lecture for the surgeons ended, the medical students started clapping, and the surgeons came around Edward. They were wearing white masks, rubber gloves, and sickly pale blue clothes.
"Now don't you worry, Edward." Kevin said, with a devilish, crazy smirk on his wrinkled face. "You're in good hands."
"Good hands?" Edward asked, frightened.
"That's right."
Kevin Boggs reached to the back of Edward's head, and flicked something. Edward panicked for a moment, but as he breathed more frantically, he grew more and more tired. He felt like he had spun around in a circle too long, and now he was drunkenly dizzy. He eventually shut his eyes and felt the world slip into a liquorice black dream.
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Please forgive me (again) for being so late with this chapter! I feel horrible for not updating, will you ever forgive me, guys?
I LOVE YOU ALL, MY DARLINGS!