Chapter Two
Edna Turnblad was facing the wall to the left of the door. Wearing only her slip, she was seated on a stool between her vanity and the bed clutching a large kitchen knife in her hands. Kelly saw the knife, saw the blood. She watched in horror as she finally realized what was causing the clatter. Every time she pulled the knife over the flesh of her thigh, Edna's arm hit the vanity, making the lamps and jewelry boxes rattle wildly. Her left shoulder and upper arm were covered in angry seeping cuts, as was her left breast. The left straps of her bra and slip dangled pointlessly; she had cut them as well. Unable to stand it any longer Kelly moved quickly through the door and around the bed. She fell to her knees before the armed woman.
"Oh God," Kelly whimpered as she thought quickly. There was nothing for it; she grabbed Edna's hands in her own and pulled the blade from Edna's ruined skin. At least, that was what she had planned to do, but Mrs. Turnblad showed unexpected strength.
Her face twisted into an expression of utter anguish and hatred, Edna Turnblad fought to hold onto the one thing that she could be sure of at that moment. The knife was solid, real. And it wasn't food. Too long had her comfort been flavored, fried and buttered. Too often had she reached for the cold metal of the refrigerator handle in her time of need; too many times had she cried over a plate of chocolate cake and ice cream; this blade gave her the freedom that food never could. She was in control.
"I'm trying to help you!" Kelly cried as she wrestled Edna. She got to her feet and, towering over the desperate woman, fixed her fierce gaze upon Edna's bright blue eyes.
"I don't…want…to hurt you!" Kelly cried. Finally she let go, reeled back, and back-handed the mad woman across the face. The latter dropped the knife as her hands flew instinctively to her assaulted countenance. Kelly picked up the knife and threw it across the room where in hit the wall, chipping the paint before falling to the carpet with a soft thud. Kelly dropped to her knees again and took Edna's face in her hands.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Kelly cried distraughtly. She again stood and wrapped her arms around the one constant thing in her life. She sat on the edge of the bed and rocked Edna in her arms, still asking why. By this time Kelly was fighting back tears, and she could feel warm blood soaking into her dress.