Part 14
INCIPIT VITA NUOVA
It snowed on the day Kim returned to California. Edward had heard her mention the undesirable conditions on the Greyhound Bus and had drawn from his own paycheck to buy her an airline ticket, once she was cleared to head west again. On an overcast January afternoon, a passenger plane carrying her made its final approach and touched down at LAX. While it was still in the air, Kim noticed window seat occupants pointing at the falling snow in amazement. To the north, it was collecting on the slopes of the mountains. To the south, it dusted the city streets. She found it the most appropriate fanfare for her arrival. Love of snow was a part of who she was, and as she transitioned from dependency to independence, and from childhood to young adulthood, it was proper for snow to be there.
After Kim made her way off the plane, through the terminal and baggage claim, and out to the parking lot by the curb, she heard the honk of a wacky horn, like something from a cartoon. Turning her head, she saw Dr. Ravenscroft, behind the wheel of a bulky, charcoal-colored carriage-style automobile from the 1930s, smiling like a cherub.
Kim gave her driver-professor a hug and placed a collection of suitcases in the car's backseat. "Where to, Miss?", he joked. "Home, guv'nah!", she played along in an English accent. The ancient vehicle churned to life and ambled its way to the Home, across freeways that seemed better prepared for snow than they had during Christmastime.
The evening was spent hauling containers, downstairs, into her new basement room, and setting everything in its right place. The room's décor suggested an environment that was, by default, rough, dingy and dank, with its turn-of-the-century stone walls and insubstantial windows, yet had been skillfully modified to make it warmer, sheltering, more girl-friendly. A floral couch with fuchsia throw pillows rested against one wall. In front of it was a coffee table with a vanilla candle, around which lay a holly wreath. Two identical lamps, sculpted like cats, on a wide bureau. A twin-sized bed with a fluffy comforter. After adding her stuffed animals, snowglobes, and magazine cutout collage of eyes, the room felt familiar and nostalgic to Kim. Yet, not entirely nostalgic. There was something in her suitcase that wasn't there before: a framed photograph of her and Edward, taken last month, which she placed on the nightstand.
Kim was processing her new environment deeply as she walked up and down the stairs. She was far enough into her thoughts that once, while wheeling a suitcase behind her, she wasn't watching her steps and bonked into someone. He turned around, and she was staring into a face she found grotesque, difficult to even look at. A younger man, not much older than Edward, whose body was blemished with large, wooden, mossy protrusions: on his face, his neck, his upper arms and on his bare feet.
"Sorry about that", Kim said, feeling a mélange of embarrassment, pity, terror, disgust and sadness upon seeing him. "It's nothing", the man said, despondently. She took the suitcase into her room and began unpacking it, the man's deformed appearance still with her. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to control her fear responses around him. But she'd voluntarily signed up for this job, and there was no turning back, so she'd need to learn somehow.
Millvina came down at one point to inspect the room. "Looks like you're decently settled in!" she said with her usual enthusiasm.
"Yeah, it wasn't too hard. ...hey, real quick." Kim disclosed: "I saw someone who looked like...is he turning into a tree?"
"Those are tree growths on him, yes", Millvinia confirmed solemnly. "His name is Thorvald. We...worry about him sometimes."
"It was hard for me to look at him. Help me. I don't want to seem rude."
"You'll get used to it, hon. Fear not. This is only your first day." She then left to let Kim finish her move-in.
Edward came over the next morning. He was still drowsy, even after sleeping, but that didn't matter because Kim was now here with him. Here began the new life. He continued to rest, laying his body upon the living room sofa and his head upon her lap, as she sat, reading through her assignment list.
"Sweet, sleepy Edward...", her voice was a lullaby as she pet him atop his head, playing with strands of raven hair.
Life could be a dream
If only all my precious plans would come true
If you would let me spend my whole life loving you
Life could be a dream, sweetheart
-The Chords
On one of their first public outings after the move, Edward and Kim walked down a street near his house, lined with shops. He noticed a particular man on the other side of the street, standing in front of a theater, sharply dressed in a navy suit and polished black shoes. He shook people's hands and greeted them as they walked by.
These greetings were interspersed with loudly spoken slogans and calls to action. "The world is changing! And Los Angeles must change with it!" Another handshake. "We need justice, we need peace, and we need order!" Another handshake. "We need to tackle the homeless problem, the housing problem and the pollution problem!" A sign posted next to him read: "PETER VARTANIAN FOR CITY COUNCIL".
Something about him perturbed Edward. Did he really think he could solve all the problems he was naming? Or was he just saying what he believed the people around him wanted to hear? He was only one man; there were limits to what he could do. The approach seemed overconfident.
Then, he got an idea. "Kim, watch this," he said impishly. He crossed the street and waited in line as people talked with Mr. Vartanian. Soon, Edward got his turn.
"Hi, I'm Peter Vartanian and I'm running for-"
Edward held his fearsome-looking hand out to the aspiring politico, requesting he shake it. Mr. Vartanian, upon seeing his hand, recoiled like he'd touched a hot stove.
Edward politely persisted. "I'm Edward. Nice to meet you." Mr. Vartanian, also wanting to be polite, hesitantly touched his thumb and index finger to the very tip of Edward's hand, and moved his forearm up and down ever-so-slightly.
Edward looked across the street at Kim, who was clutching her sides with laughter. As funny as it was, Kim saw a deeper meaning in it: Edward now felt secure enough to have a sense of humor about himself and his unusual trait. A very healthy attitude. He returned to Kim's side of the street.
"So, are you gonna vote for him?"
"No, I think I'll just stay home."
They laughed and resumed walking.
After a couple of weeks, when the weather was warming, Edward and Kim decided to spend time by the beach. The push and pull of the waves, inward and outward, was always hypnotic to witness.
Edward wore a black t-shirt and red gym shorts, while Kim wore a sleeveless dress. She bought a raspberry lemonade from a street vendor. As she drank it, Edward looked increasingly rattled. He was at a loss to understand.
"How can anyone drink lemonade?"
"What do you mean? Lemonade's great."
"Your father made some for me and it was awful."
"Really? That stinks…maybe he forgot to sweeten it?"
"It was hot in my mouth. And it made me dizzy. That was the night we met."
"Lemonade doesn't make you di-…" Realizing what had happened, she groaned and facepalmed.
"What is it?"
"Edward…I don't think that was lemonade."
"Then what was it?"
"Whisky. Oh my gosh, total dad move. It's got alcohol in it, that's why you felt dizzy."
"I don't understand how people drink it…"
"You're not supposed to have very much of it. Just a little. It makes you calm."
"Just a little?"
"Yeah. My family's Scottish, so whisky's part of our culture. Sometimes mom and dad would give me a spoonful of it, when I was feeling scared."
"Do you actually like it?"
"I thought the taste was icky at first too. But then, yeah, I actually started to like it."
From this, Edward took the lesson that some things that you disliked at first, you may enjoy later. He had seen how Kim, who was uncomfortable around him at first, had made him the love of her life. And if this were true, the inverse might also be true, he reasoned. Sometimes you could enjoy something at first but then tire of it.
Peg gave Edward a phone call one day. He didn't get very many phone calls, so this was exciting for him.
"Edward, I have some very good news."
"What is it?"
"You remember Helen, yes? A few days ago, she asked me where Kim has been, so…I've decided now's the time to clear things up with her. She realizes she was wrong about you. She knows you saved Kevin. She knows what happened with Jim was self-defense. She's on your side again."
Earthy, big-hearted, tell-it-like-it-is Helen had been one of Edward's favorite neighbors. She'd driven him to a local shopping center so he could have his hands sharpened. When he'd given haircuts to the ladies and their dogs, Helen left a larger tip than anyone. After the robbery, when Edward's reputation was in ruins, no one's defection left him more crestfallen than Helen's.
Once Edward was thought to be dead, Helen was in that minority of neighbors who sought reconciliation with Peg and Bill; she called them the very next day, expressed her condolences for what they had gone through, suggested they "move past all that crap", be friends again, and let everything return to normal. From this, Peg inferred she'd be reasonable once she had the facts. She was proven correct.
"I liked Helen a lot, she was very generous."
"Oh, she certainly is! And she's a fighter, she's someone you want on your side! I said I'd only tell her about you if she promised not to tell anyone else, so don't you worry!"
Edward felt a small but noticeable relief, as if something knotted in his stomach were untying itself. If Helen understood the truth, maybe the other neighbors would understand too.
He decided to drop the bombshell on Peg.
"I have something to tell you too. It's about the robbery."
"Oh dear, what is it?", Peg braced herself as her mind was swept back to that harrowing time.
"The robber was Jim. He was going to rob his parents and brought me to help."
Peg couldn't contain herself. "That bastard! …pardon my French. But I'd wondered if someone put you up to that. It was so abrupt. It didn't seem like you. And you know, I remember Jim insulting his parents more than once. It fits like a puzzle piece!"
"He's not here anymore, so I knew it was safe to tell you that."
"Yes…" Her voice was noticeably distressed. "It frightens me to think about because he was usually very polite around Bill and I. All-American, tight end on the football team...he hid his other face well."
"Is it harder to trust people now?"
"It is!"
"That how I felt after what he did to me. It broke some of my trust."
"Oh, my sweet Edward…" Peg comforted him. "If someone tries to get you to do something illegal, you need to say 'no' and walk away. Be firm. Otherwise, you become culpable too. Please say you'll do that."
"Yes Peg. I'll just say no and walk away."
"Thank you so much, dear." She sighed. "I need to do things differently too…I let Jim near my daughter, I let him in my house… Maybe from now on, trust but verify?"
"That sounds good."
"Glad you think so! Anyways, Spring Break will be here before you know it We'll see you then!"
"I can't wait!", Edward's usually reserved voice broke into a cheer.
"Yes sir, and you're so creative, I know you'll have plenty of ideas for fun things we can do!"
Fun things. Just he and the Boggs family. The life he'd only begun to experience when disasters struck. It would mean anything if he could get those days back.
Another night at Sideshow Bistro, another round of delectable entrees. Kim would be joining Edward tonight, something she hadn't done since the day after Christmas, rewarding herself for integrating successfully into a new life. Edward had an entire sirloin on a cart in front of him, and he began carving pieces from it, for steaks and for hamburgers. It always gratified him to see raw materials slowly take shape.
Nobody made a hamburger the way Edward Scissorhands did. Instead of merely stacking ingredients, one atop another, he would artfully weave beef, bacon strips, lettuce, tomatoes and pickles into a sculpture resembling something from a Dali painting. His burgers almost looked too interesting and unique to eat, and customers would often take pictures of them before they were devoured. That was something he was particularly proud of.
Tonight, as his last table was clearing out, he washed and cleaned his griddle. Just then, a voice, friendly and inviting as could be, called out to him: "Hey scissorman." Edward turned his head. To his left was a sparkling, alluring young woman, her auburn hair in a flawless updo, her hourglass figure poured into a slinky emerald dress.
"It was a blast watching you cook tonight. My name's Shay."
She touched his left wrist. "Are those your real hands?"
"Yes." Edward said, continuing to clean with his free hand.
Shay raised her fingers to her mouth in an excited gasp and giggled a bit.
"Are you free after hours? There's gonna be this bangin' party at Bootsy Bellows...down on the Strip. There'll be lots of things for you to cut up." She winked at him. "If you ride with me, I'll put your name on the guest list and you can get in...to the…the…the...VIP..."
Her tone was at first fluid and flattering, but now she'd been thrown off balance and stammered. Her face expressed unease as it looked at something behind Edward. Perplexed, he turned his head and realized what had happened.
Kim was to Edward's right, with her arm on his shoulder and war written on her face. Her eyes, normally dollish, looked crazy as they pierced into Shay's. Whoever this woman was, actress, model or otherwise, how dare she lay as much as a manicured finger on her Edward?!
"...section..." Shay finally managed to finish her sentence, as her eyes looked away from Edward and Kim. Regaining her composure, she removed her hand from his wrist and glided away from the table, to the entrance and out the front door, without a sound.
Edward looked at the front door, somewhat amused by the incident. "That was very interesting..."
"She can find her own man.", Kim growled. "I'm not sharing you with anyone."
As it would turn out, Kim's primary role in the upkeep of the Home would be laundry service. There were over two dozen residents whose clothes needed cleaning. In the laundry room one morning, she hummed a song to herself contently as she prepared garments, one by one, to be tossed into the room's many washers.
"Ms. Boggs?" Dr. Ravenscroft called to Kim from the hallway.
"Yes sir?"
"Edward has requested your presence. It won't be long, but please come to the office."
"Okay..." She lay a pair of trousers on the counter and walked the corridor to the office, where Edward, The Doctor and Millvina were all waiting.
"What's going on?, she asked.
Edward held up a brochure. It read: "GOLDEN STATE PROSTHETICS: THE TREATMENT THAT MAKES A DIFFERENCE." The brochure's graphic was a sophisticated-looking artificial hand, gripping the rocks of a climbing wall.
"You're going to try to get hands."
He nodded. "I don't think hands are what make you finished anymore. But I still want hands that I can wear sometimes, and then take off so I can put the scissors back on."
"That would be perfect for you!" Kim cheered him on. "And just remember, whichever you choose, I'll support your decision. Because you know what you need."
"Let nothing hold you back, Edward!", Dr. Ravenscroft seconded.
Edward basked in their blessings and support. "Thank you all so much. I called them and they're going to do a consultation one week from now."
"Let us know what they tell you."
In one week, Edward would know the exact shape of one of his main life pathways. He knew his body could be finished in the way his father had intended, and now the only question was what it could possibly be upgraded to.