Mrs. Molly Walters stood, hard fists resting on the sides of her hips, and her foot tapping furiously. Indignantly tilting her chin upwards; her nose thinned as she snorted out a curt sniff, and her eyes, which were as clear as diamonds, narrowed into tiny slits.
"Shameful…absolutely shameful."
Muttering bitterly, she repeated the word 'shameful' over and over, in case the three young adults hadn't yet grasped the gist.
You see what happened, Dear Reader, was Dr. Boggs had scurried up in between Edward and Victoria, just as they were about to leave for a talk. Sneering out many a vulgar and ungentle remark in the young lady's four-eyed face—one harsh criticism led to another, and another—until the Dr. Boggs and Victoria Emerson were quite literally at each other's throats.
Cowering in the middle, Edward watched wide-eyed as his two companions barked at each other. Ed could swear that they'd foamed from the mouth, too."…stop," Ed protested, in the voice of a frightened child. He breathed in, trying to gather up whatever pluck he had within him. "Stop it." This wasn't working. Edward swallowed hard, and felt his artificial spit crawl down his plastic stomach. "Please, stop it!"
Instantly, the fighting stopped. Everyone in the room was caught in a death-like quiet. And, Edward guessed they weren't even breathing anymore.
"Thank you, Edward!" Mrs. Walters tried not to seem surprised that he'd lifted his voice from his usual mousy murmur. "Well, at least we have someone here who has the concept of mannerly and civil behavior! My goodness!"
Edward blushed a bright fire truck red. His throat hurt, like sandpaper, from talking so loud.
Kennedy and Victoria kept their eyes fixated on the mechanical man, not planning to move their dumbstruck gazes. The gall of Edward even daring to say 'stop it!' to them, still was washing away deep down in their stomachs.
Uncle Frank lifted his lazy brown eyes up from his newspaper (which was rather surprising, since very few things induced him to even glance up from his daily paper). Mild-mannered Frank gently scowled at the people in the room, a wee bit confused on the whole matter-of-affairs.
Mr. Jake Walters' blood rushed to his face, "What is the problem with you kids? You're just plain fighting like cats and dogs! God's sake…!"
Victoria was as pale as wax, as she rung her hands together, nervously. Quick as lighting, she peeled her eyes off Edward Hands and stared down in shame to the ruffled, turquoise-colored carpet. The young lady hated being rude, she, herself, hated rude people... but there was something about that Ken Boggs that just made her want to— really—just rip his lungs out. No matter how feverishly she prayed. She, you see, simply could not help herself.
Dr. Ken Boggs was a million miles away. Holy God, it had happened, he thought in an excited panic… Ken began to have a slight tremor in his left hand, and his eye twitched friskily. That machine's brain developed some sort…some sort of…of mechanical frontal lobe…! Independent thought had come out in certain parts, little tiny fragments, of what Edward did but it'd never been so plain, so blunt. A machine's mind—Ed's—was actually capable of independent thought and rebuttal!
Kennedy's blood was hot in his veins, like boiling water, and he began daydreaming about how the name 'Dr. Ken Boggs' would be stamped on the front page of the National Geographic—who knows? He could have even won a Nobel Price or some damn thing, for his achievements in re-creating a mechanical man…if things had been a little different, of course…
But, Ken realized he was staring in the face of science's most prodigious achievement. It was unbearably awesome.
Aunt Jillian watched this, impatiently rap-tap-tapping her long plastic nails, and shook her head, whispering something about 'these crazy kids'… Auntie was quick to call Lucy away from aforesaid 'crazy kids' and then fuss over the little girl and tell her it was 'bout time to return to their hotel.
In more of a command than a suggestion, Mrs. Molly Walters said "Don't you three think you'd better sit down?"
They all sat down, at once. Kennedy, Victoria, and Edward's sulky eyes were gloomily staring up at the lady before them. Molly returned the look, except hers was fierce, glittering, and unmerciful.
"I'd expect this kind of behavior from little children, honestly," Mrs. Molly Walters continued, still keeping her judgmental eye on them, "This is completely unacceptable."
"Look—"
"Ken, I don't want to hear it!" Mrs. Walters shrieked, stomping her foot down on the floor so hard, that the plates on the dinner table jingled.
Kennedy Boggs shivered and shut up. He looked deliberately away from Molly Walters.
"And," Mrs. Walters put her hands behind her back, attempting to act calmly and rationally, "And I hope there's an explanation for it."
Kennedy swirled his head towards Mrs. Walters again, utterly outraged, and maintained that he hadn't done anything. Victoria Emerson snorted out-loud, while giving him a replused look, and slid her spectacles up quickly along her nose.
Jake Walters put his large hands in his pockets, and frowned down at the three, "Now, kids…" Jake sounded like he was talking an extremely stupid group of kiddies, "Molly here's right—You just kinda lashed out at each other, right in front of the family, too. And on Christmas … C'mon, you know better than that. What's the deal?"
"I'm sorry." Edward said.
Victoria tried to console him, but it seemed a little useless, since Edward looked beyond help at the moment. Actually, his nerves were absolutely shot. The trench-coated lady merely patted him on the back, in a gentle way, because anything else might've been just plain annoying.
Molly Walters mumbled compassionately, while shaking her head "You didn't actually do anything, Edward, my dear."
Uncle Frank, who was still rather puzzled, got up and made himself a cup of creamy eggnog. He ran his skeletal fingers through his few remaining hairs on his polished bowling ball- balding head, still looking at the scuffle in the apartment's living room. Uncle Frank, after some thought, frowned and groaned out an inquiry:
"But why were you fighting with each other, in the first place? You…" Uncle Frank took a quick swig of eggnog, "…were pretty gosh-darn loud there, you know."
Victoria and Kennedy gave each other dangerously ugly looks, as if both were trying to telepathically say to another 'You started it, you stupid idiot' like pair of whiny five-year-olds.
"Well," Mrs. Molly Walters sternly snapped out, "Are you going to tell us, or what?"
Kennedy decided to reply first, only because he was certain Victoria would press her question about Edward on the family. Ken didn't want that to happen, no sir. He knew the family would be nervous about it, and rightly so, too—and also he didn't want the whole 'robot' business leaking out, just because of some religious nutcase of a woman.
Dr. Boggs wasn't about to lose his neck in this. "We got carried away. It was my fault. I blew up at her. It's really nothing."
Everyone in the Walters family was stunned dumb that Ken had actually given an apology—and not only that, but also admitted his guilt—Yet Victoria, who was indeed rather surprised about it, was still not to be easily deceived
"Interesting choice of words," Victoria smiled, faintly, and then snorted, "But, wouldn't you concur, that it would be better to say that, instead of 'we', 'you' got carried away? Oh, don't dare dismiss it as 'nothing', either, what I was asking was—"
Ken hissed. He took long, swallowing breaths to help himself resist throttling Victoria senseless.
"I'm no thick-wit, Dr. Boggs. I know what you're doing, and what you're up to."
She looked straight towards Ed, grinned an encouraging half-smile, and then swiftly retreated her glance.
Victoria's hand lifted to her forehead, as if she were checking her temperature, "Mrs. Walters, you are perfectly right. This is extremely childish, of both Kennedy and me. I apologize, Kennedy—we shouldn't be fighting over it." She made an uneven smile, "I know Edward's a good person. He won't lie to me or be dishonest, I know that much."
Kennedy's face went as colorless as Edward's, and Edward's hands were starting to quiver, from the sickeningly dreadful anticipation if his only friend might ask him.
Perhaps Dr. Boggs has some good reason to be so protective, Victoria thought, maybe there was some awful secret that was best left alone. She took a quick surveillance of the faces of the family—and what greeted her were strange and fearful looks, doomed glances, and grimaces.
"That's all right, Edward." Victoria finally sighed, as she got up from the cool, sleek leather sofa, "Really," She looked around to the relieved, yet still mortally sober faces, "Really, I've caused too much trouble."
Victoria felt like turning round and bolting straight-out of the room, the apartment, the block, top-speed.
She forced herself to stretch a painfully broad smile over her teeth, one so forced it caused her mouth to ache. Victoria quickly grasped her purse and her gray velveteen jacket, while steadily drifting towards the door of the apartment.
"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Walters—I've ruined such a lovely dinner. I wish you all a Merry Christmas…but I think I should get going. Thank you so much. It's been a pleasure to meet you all."
Victoria stretched out one gloved hand to the doorknob, and then she twisted it, desperately— "Well, bye-bye, Edward! I'll…I'll see you soon?" She said awkwardly, a little rattled, her body halfway outside the apartment.
Edward lifted a snowy white hand (which was still frantically shaking) and he gradually tilted it to and fro, as he stupidly waved farewell to his friend. "Good bye." In a daze, Ed nodded, "I'll see you soon."
"How does she know? Who, on God's green earth, told her? Edward? Did you?"
Edward had his head in his hands, "No."
"Well, someone told her!" Molly was pacing back and forth, sometimes fiercely kicking the carpet with her sheep-white Kenneth Cole shoes, "Kennedy, you must have told her! You two fought together, you must have let something slip…!"
"If anyone," Kennedy said, his cynical voice dripping over the air like thin oil, "'Let something slip' it was dear old Auntie here…Victoria came up to me, and she was all worked up about Aunt Jill's nasty little Freudian slip—Just for the record, I said nothing."
Aunt Jill, who had now returned from settling the children snugly in their blankets down at the hotel and telling Uncle Frank to watch over them ('just in case', as the Aunt put it, 'any seedy men decide to pull any funny stuff'), blushed a strong and almost whimsical shade of crimson—the exact reddish Revlon color of her nails—
The family gave a lethal pause. They stared Auntie Jillian down, their bitter feelings over her 'spilling the beans' hadn't gone away just yet.
Kennedy had a snappy grin. He looked like a tom-cat, ready to tear up a mouse.
"Well, this is making Kennedy history! Isn't it, Aunt Jillian?" Ken gave a very disrespectful look towards Auntie, "For once, I don't have blood on my hands…in fact, I was the one who saved Edward from being found out, and I distracted Victoria away from the truth. What a lovely little spin on things, no?"
Tears were welling up in Jillian's eyes, and her make-up dripped down her plump cheeks with peach-pink powder, mascara, and blue acrylic eyeshadow.
Jill cried, and the blonde woman fell on the kitchen bench, still sobbing out large breaths, "Oh, it's just all my own fault! I know it is, Kennedy's right—! Oh, Eddie, can't you forgive me? I'm just so sorry, lamb. I, honest-to-God, never meant for that silly thing to slip out of me, honey!"
Edward uncovered his face from his frigid, icicle-like hands. Then, with a soft clumsiness—got up to comfort the wailing woman. Ed really couldn't keep himself mad at Aunt Jill, anyway, could he? For all her stuffy powders, sticky handcreme, and over-potent perfume—Edward really liked the old gal. The Avon lady had been very soft and loving to him, over time, and she had called him her 'little innocent lamb baby'—which Ed thought was very dear of her—
Kennedy sulked in the corner of the room, watching this. He hated Edward being a grade A goody-goody-two-shoes, but, after a while, he merely shrugged it off. Dr. Boggs wasn't feeling very inhuman, at the moment. So, he let his annoyance with Ed slide for once…Leastwise, Ken had heavier matters on his mind.
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Molly wrung her hands together, and she bent forward like and old woman, "Kennedy, didn't I tell you? I knew, I knew thiswould happen someday!"
"You never told me anything," Kennedy hissed under his breath.
"What?" Molly's voice was raspy, like a musket about to explode with gunshot. At any God-given moment, it looked like hot steam would blow out of her ears.
"You never told me anything." Ken lazily repeated, as he yawned, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed— "
"Young man, you'll do nothing of the sort!" Molly told Dr. Boggs, and she stomped her foot on the carpet. "Sit down! You're going to sit through this till Judgement Day, if we don't get it figured out!"
Obediently, Dr. Boggs reclined into his seat... and, he looked absolutely furious.
"Well?" Kennedy frowned, "What's to be figured out…? Victoria suspects, but doesn't know squat. Doesn't know squat of anything concrete, that is. Edward's safe. You're safe. I'm safe. We're all just peachy-keen."
"—But—"
He persisted. Eyes stuck firmly on Molly Walters, and his face wickedly tilted downwards. He gripped the leather of the armchair so tightly, he ripped it a little. "If Jill keeps her fat mouth closed, and as long as Edward—and, for that matter, all of us—keeps mum, we'll be just fucking fine, Molly."
Molly slowly shook her head, and then resolutely crossed her arms. She had her own agenda for this situation, and she would not have Dr. Kennedy Boggs messing around with it. This could develop into a potential risk—not just for Edward, but also for the family.
"No, no, no…This is the last straw, the last remaining straw!" She was furious, "Edward is coming back with us to Suburbia, and that is the end of it!"
Edward immediately looked up, and he carefully swallowed a huge gulp of saliva. He was faintly upset that Mrs. Walters felt she was able to conduct his life, like it was nothing at all—the image of a dog on a leash came to his mind. Dog on a leash…
Yes, of course, that's what he was. Some pet, a problem, some possession; that's all. A thing they could pack up, drop off, and play with for awhile, until they got bored with. Edward wondered how hot his blood was, how fast it surged through him, and how his heart felt like someone'd just taken a huge bite out of it.
The mechanical boy kept glowering, silent as death itself. He needed to leave, right now. All the family's faces made him feel all queasy and disoriented. Their voices were even beginning to make him want to whirl on the spot.
"What if Ed doesn't want to come?" Mr. Walters said, a little unevenly, "I mean, forcing the boy to go back with you? It's a little much, Molly dear."
"Well, Jake," Molly persuaded with fierce understanding, "at least Suburbia's someplace normal…"
Ken snapped, "You call macaroni salad parties and almost identical pastel houses normal, Molly? C'mon…"
Presently Ed decided to get up and fix something to drink in the kitchen—something smooth to clear his insanely frazzled mind. He opened the pearl-white refrigerator, felt the sudden burst of icy air, and then he dug out an orange juice out of the colorful clutter of festive food.
Ed tried to control his shivering hands, but they shook like crazy. He was having immense difficulty pouring the juice, and the glass he was holding slipped out of his hands. He was a bag of nerves…just ready to rip open and scare the living daylights out of anyone round.
Oh, my, yes…Ed was angry with almost ever person in that room, and he knew fully that he turned slightly dangerous when he was ruffled. Look what he did to Jim, he killed Jim, sliced him up like butter, but even if he did have good reason to slice him...
Edward had to leave, now, more for their sake than his. Losing his cool was not a harmless thing, at least where Edward was concerned.
Without further ado, he hurried over to the metal coatrack, pulled on his checkered jacket and opened the apartment door.
Someone asked, "And where'd you think you're going?"
The mechanical man turned around, and gave everyone a pleading 'Don't stop me' look. A hot infuriation clogged up somewhere in his throat.
Freedom, fresh air, and a good walk around the block was all he wanted, or needed.
Kennedy got up from his seat, in one excited spring, and growled, "Hell, he's going to go tell her… Ed, you do that, and you'll have police crawling over you like maggots over garbage. You'll endanger all of us!"
Edward shot a glance to the doctor, but, slowly, looked down again. A tender frown dented Edward's features. "I promise I won't tell Victoria now."
"Oh, sweetie pie…" Aunt Jillian said, a little pityingly.
"You can't tell her ever, Edward." Kennedy said, rather flatly.
Edward shook his head, and he cautiously lifted his gaze up from the floor, "I have to sometime."
"Oh, Edward," Molly said, "I know you think that Victoria needs this, but she really won't understand."
Ed's expression was monotonously steady, yet still it had an ocean of dread right under the frozen surface.
"It's wrong." The mechanical man whispered so lightly, the family only just barely heard him.
Kennedy spoke up, turning his nose up at an absurd angle, "You haven't thought this through yet, Ed. Have you even thought about what Victoria'll do? Don't be so shocked. It's possible that she could lose it and—Push you into oncoming traffic. Poison you with acids. Beat you with her purse. She might do an exoticism on you—"
Edward suddenly felt his temper become bitter, "She won't hurt me."
"Well, don't be so sure there, buddy."
"Victoria wouldn't."
"Ed… listen up, okay? People like her do anything to rid themselves of things they hate, and, like it or not, Edward, Victoria Emerson hates you—rather, will hate you, as soon as she knows."
Ed's hands coiled into fists, scalding hot blood streamed in his artificial veins, and his mind was dizzied with hatred. Gingerly, Edward shut his eyes. The feeling drained out of his limbs, and his lips forcefully crunched together.
Dark thoughts seeped into Ed's mind, like black pen-ink dripping quickly over paper.
Right now Ed knew all too well that he was passionately angry, and his temper, when properly insulted, could be really dangerous. Things could happen, bad things… that night of the Boggs' Christmas party, with the glimmering ice angel, and beautiful Kim. Jim had said those awful things, then the police came and their blinding metallic blue and red lights, then Edward had ran away back to the House on the Hill, and he still could remember the syrupy blood on his razors after he'd stuck one shimmering blade into Jim's stomach…
When he shredded the curtains, funky bathroom wallpaper, and the white hallway walls of the Boggs' residence after he'd seen Kim rush over to Jim. Rage, infuriation, irritation, frustration, hatred—
Edward was going insane with frustration.
Feeling an electric shudder go from top to toe, Edward told himself he would never dream of harming the Walters, but his patience had limitations.
Fresh air…that's all he needed to cool his blood and clear his mind. Just a good, healthy walk and a ton of fresh air, that's all.
Before he really knew what he was doing, Edward had on his gloves and scarf. He must've just dressed himself unconsciously, when he'd been thinking. He didn't exactly care—he was leaving the apartment, all the same.
"E-Edward…! Edward? Where are you going?" Someone in the family yelled, but Ed didn't bother to look behind him and answer properly.
Just before closing the apartment door, he replied, "…I'll come back soon."
"Edwa—!"
Edward shut the door before they could finish saying his name. He quickly turned around and walked down the long apartment hallway, trotted down the metal staircase, and brusquely traveled across linoleum floored and florescent-lighted entrance of the tenement.
He needed a walk—a long, long walk.
Edward kept on walking, until he reached the tall, gleaming glass doors of the entrance. He opened them, with some great effort since the entrance doors were heavy and hard to push, but he was motivated enough to use his strength.
Nostrils drinking in the moist and cutting air of the Urban City streets, he stepped outside.
Finally, he was out in the dark, buzzing, light-blinking world of the city. It was nighttime, so the smoke smelled thicker, the air was icier, the lights were brighter, and everything was silhouetted against the butter yellow, green, and red Christmas lights in the shop windows.
…Edward just kept on.
He watched his legs walk underneath him, as he kept his head down. The city floor had glimmering spit on the concrete, large wads of gum stamped flat, silver beer cans rolling around, the Sunday news fluttering about in shredded pieces—The whole thing was dirty. Everything was dirty.
The thought of closing his eyes, to shut it all out, came to mind…but Edward immediately thought the better of it. If he shut his eyes, he might bump into someone, and that's always embarrassing.
Edward felt deeply that, eventually, he would need to be around someone nice. Yet going to visit Victoria right now, was perfectly out of the question. Lifting his head up, quite peacefully, someone did, eventually, come to mind.
Of course, he could always go to see Lucy.