A/N: It's almost Halloween! Around this time I love to revisit Timothee Chalamet's Cadillac ad, where he played Edgar Scissorhands. It's one of my favorite non-film roles of his because the character relies so much on conveying emotions through facial expressions as opposed to words. Here's a story that I wrote inspired by the ad, where the narrator makes a sweet connection with Edgar. Enjoy!
There's nothing more embarrassing than being in your early twenties and not knowing how to drive. Okay, perhaps that is an exaggeration. There are, I suppose, worse things in the world like tripping and falling in front of the whole school, getting rejected by a crush, or having the bus driver slam the door in your face and drive away while all the passengers laugh at you through the window. That was precisely what happened to Edgar as I arrived out of breath at the bus stop.
Since I was incompetent and unable to drive myself to school, I was heavily reliant on getting a ride from my parents to class. As much as I appreciated it, it was embarrassing to be dropped off by my mom or dad when everyone else was pulling up to the city college parking lot in their own cars. This is why I chose to travel as much as I could on public transportation. Buses and trains were my saving grace except when I arrived late and missed my ride home. That was how I ended up as the only spectator to the humiliating experience of the poor man in front of me.
It was awkward as I didn't want to ostracize him even more by making it clear that I witnessed the whole fiasco. However, his grimace made it evident that he'd spotted me, so my plan to pretend I didn't see his misfortune was no longer an option. I shot him a sympathetic glance, and he returned it with a small shrug as if to say what can you do? I walked over to the bus schedule, which was plastered on a faded bulletin board behind us.
“The next bus is not until 5:30, which is about another hour,” I said, letting out a sigh.
That was just great. I needed to get home to work on a chemistry project that was due tomorrow, and this delay was certainly going to cut into my study time. Exasperated, I plopped down on the empty bench at the bus stop.
“I guess I'm just not meant to get anywhere on time today,” I said with a sigh. “The bus was late this morning because the station had to send a new one to our stop since some wise guy cut the signal cord on the original one."
Edgar raised his eyebrows and averted his eyes guiltily. Oh! Unfortunately, I made the connection a little too late.
“That was you?” I asked, almost afraid to know the answer. He nodded apologetically, and I groaned, feeling ashamed for my annoyed tone earlier. I should have known. That's why the bus driver didn't want to pick him up. Edgar was a sweet guy, but he had one detail that made him stand out from everyone else: he had scissors for hands. At first glance, it might appear unsettling, but once a person got to know him better, they'd realize that he was really nice. Perhaps, a little too nice because even though I'd unintentionally insulted him, he still nodded kindly at me.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. Sometimes, I say things impulsively. My mouth gets way ahead of my head, and I don't think things through as much as I should,” I said.
Edgar didn't say a word, but his expression said it all. An amused grin crossed his face, and a dimple formed on his left cheek, underneath a scratch, which I assumed was the result of an accidental nick from his scissors.
“You don't seem to have that problem, do you?” I asked. “ You appear to be the strong and silent type.”
He chuckled, and I soon joined in, realizing that I'd never truly heard him laugh before. It was quite an adorable sound.
“So what do we do now?” I asked.
In response, he held up his hand and used his scissors to sign a walking motion. Ah! He was going to walk home. I nodded understandingly. However, I was enjoying our brief time together, I was not ready for him to leave yet.
As if he could read my mind, Edgar motioned for me to follow him. He quirked an eyebrow at me, questioning if that was okay with me. I smiled and nodded as I got to my feet.
“Sure. I guess I'm walking home. It's about an hour on foot, but the exercise will do me some good,” I replied.
Edgar pointed to himself and held up two of his scissor blades to signal me too. I smiled. He didn't talk much, but the way he used his scissors to communicate was an art worth studying.
We turned the corner and headed down an empty street that led off campus. The weather was cool because autumn was in full swing. The leaves crunched beneath our feet as we walked. A few boys were tossing a football on a grassy patch to the right. We managed to walk past them and narrowly avoided being hit on the head with the ball.
I figured since we were going to walk home together, I should get to know the man I'd be spending the journey with a bit more.
“So Edgar, what do you like to do in your free time?” I asked and then ducked as the boys threw the football once again and it soared over my head.
“Football?” I asked, half jokingly and the flabbergasted head shake that he gave me made me chuckle.
“Yeah, it's not really my thing either,” I said.
We walked in silence for a bit until we were out of sight from the rowdy guys and their game. Then, Edgar stopped. At first, I thought something was wrong, but he held out his hand to stop me. I looked up at him, and he had a twinkle in his eye.
He used one of his scissors to pull something out of his pocket. It was a colorful piece of paper. He gestured for me to hold out my hand. I did, and he ever so gently, as not to scratch me with his blades, placed it in the palm of my hand. I studied the object curiously. Edgar moved his arms apart as if to say open it.
I did so, and to my surprise, it unraveled into a beautiful paper craft that was in the shape of a flower. It had many small diamond shaped holes, which left a captivating shadow on the floor as the setting sun shown through it.
“You made this?” I asked him, still admiring the gorgeous adornment in my hand. Edgar nodded, almost shyly.
“They're beautiful! You really have an eye for this!” I said.
He smiled, and I could have sworn that his cheeks grew rosier over my compliment, which filled me with an inexplicable warmth.
“I really wish that I could do something cool like that. It seems like everyone around me is good at something, but honestly, school is the only thing I have going for me right now. I'm not an athlete or an artist. I don't even have my driver's license. What person in their twenties can't drive a car?” I said with a sigh.
Edgar stopped walking and waved his hands at me, the scissors snipping the air in front of him. Oh! Right! Of course he couldn't drive. It never occurred to me that the reason he took the bus to and from school was because scissor hands and steering wheels were not a match made in heaven.
The heat rose to my face, which I covered with my hands in shame over my faux pas.
“Gosh! Edgar, I'm so sorry. Here I am selfishly rambling about my problems, and I didn't even bother to think about how hard it must be for you,” I apologized profusely.
I peeked through my fingers and saw him staring back at me with a huge grin. He really did have an incredible smile. It was a shame that many people didn't get to see it.
“Does this mean I'm forgiven?” I asked, and he waved his hand dismissively. I guess it was water under the bridge.
“Not being able to drive is my biggest insecurity,” I admitted. “Can I be honest with you?” I asked.
He looked at me, his jade eyes encouraging me to go on.
“I'm too scared to drive. I get really anxious, and just sitting behind the wheel freaks me out. What if I hit something? Or even worse, crash into someone? It's ridiculous right?” I asked.
Edgar shook his head. His expression was so sweet that I let out a grateful smile.
“I’ve never said that out loud before. I guess you’re just easy to talk to. How have we never had a one on one interaction before? I know we have at least one class together this semester," I pondered.
I paused, trying to remember which of my courses Edgar shared with me.
“We have..." I began.
“Chemistry,” Edgar said, at the same time that I did.
I stared back at him, incredulously because it hit me that this was the first word he’d said to me during our entire walk home. His expressions and gentle manner had been so empathetic and genuine that I didn't realize I hadn’t actually heard him speak.
Edgar must have realized the same thing because he suddenly looked flustered and took a step back from me. I didn't blame him. The way we spoke in unison was surprisingly intimate.
Nervously, I giggled and replied, “Yeah, we do have chemistry together.”
Realizing how strange that sentence sounded I quickly added, “Professor Burton's class in Oak Hall, right?”
Edgar nodded quickly, his face still a bit flushed.
I smiled and shifted my attention away from his face and onto the leaves crunching beneath our feet. A car sped by on the street beside us, causing some of the leaves to lift off of the ground and twirl around us. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't upset that I couldn't drive yet, because if I had, then I wouldn't have been at the bus stop and met up with Edgar. While the bus not letting him board wasn't ideal, I was secretly thankful that the incident granted us this moment to walk home together and get to know one another better.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't realize we were about a block from my house. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I didn't know where he lived.
“Do you live far from here?” I asked him, curiously.
Edgar shook his head and pointed to a pink house that was coming up on our left.
A big grin crossed my face. I always thought that it was a quirky detail that every house in the neighborhood was painted a different pastel color. My own home was a pale yellow, which I loved, but something about the pink house that was half a block from it, always made me smile. What were the odds that he lived there?
“No way! The color of that house is so pretty! I always admire the topiary in the front yard on my way home,” I admitted.
Edgar let out a smile that reached his eyes, and suddenly, I realized.
“Did you make those?” I asked in surprise.
He nodded, and I could see the pride in his eyes. Gosh! I was really starting to admire the way his facial expression did all of the talking without him having to say a word. It was so captivating.
“Who knew you were a man of many hidden talents? What other secrets are you hiding, Edgar?” I teased.
He bit his lip nervously and shrugged. My heart skipped a beat as we locked eyes for a second.
“So…um… I actually live over there,” I said, pointing at the yellow house in the corner. “It seems like we've been neighbors this whole time. Who knew?”
Edgar shrugged, a little too dramatically for it to be casual. Did he already know that?
“Wait!” I said, stopping abruptly. “You knew, didn't you?”
His entire face erupted into the color of the setting sun behind us. Despite my surprise, I had to take a moment to appreciate how handsome he looked, even when he was flustered.
“Maybe,” he said softly, hesitant to make eye contact with me.
The sound of his voice warmed my heart. He was such a gentle being, and it was endearing.
“Why didn't you ever say anything?” I asked. He raised an eyebrow at me as he lifted one of his scissor blades and snipped gently at the air as if to say, isn't it obvious?
“You thought I would be afraid of you,” I stated, almost insulted that he believed I'd be so shallow as to reject him for a reason that was out of his control.
He gestured towards the street, where a few kids were playing with marbles and were watching him with a mixture of amusement and apprehension. Upon seeing that we were looking in their direction, they quickly turned away and began chattering amongst themselves.
“Just because they're judgmental doesn't mean I am too. There are lots of things I'm afraid of, but you aren't one of them,” I said, and I meant it.
He smiled sincerely at me, and I knew that I said the right thing. Something told me that not many people complimented him, which was a shame, considering all of the wonderful qualities he'd exhibited during our walk together, which interestingly felt like it took much less time than the hour it was supposed to.
I checked my watch. “Well, look at that! It's 5:45. Time certainly did fly,” I said. “I better get going. I need to work on my chemistry. The assignment I mean.”
Edgar chuckled, and I was certain that the color of my cheeks matched the walls of his house. Gosh! Why was I feeling so tongue-tied all of a sudden? We reached the corner of the street and stood in front of my house.
“Thanks for walking home with me,” I said, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet, a bit nervously.
Edgar gave me a playful bow in return, and it made me giggle.
“No. No. The pleasure is all mine,” I said, pretending to curtsy, and he grinned.
“Well, seeing as I am too freaked out to drive a car, and you may be banned from the bus until further notice,” I began, and he rolled his eyes playfully. “Do you perhaps want to walk home together from campus again tomorrow?”
The sparkle in his eyes was impossible to miss, as he nodded excitedly. Then, perhaps not wanting to appear too eager, he sheepishly slowed down a bit, which made me chuckle.
“Ok then, it's a date. Same time and place tomorrow afternoon,” I said and then added, “This truly made my day. You’re a great companion.”
Feeling bold, I leaned in closer to him and felt his breath hitch in his throat as I did so. Ever so gently, I kissed his cheek and was flattered to feel how warm he grew under my touch.
“See you tomorrow, Edgar,” I said and quickly picked up the pace to my house before it truly registered in my mind what I’d just done. I raced to my front door, and once I was safely inside, I peeked through the window. Through the blinds I saw Edgar practically skipping back to his house, and the image made me giggle.
There are lots of things in this world that can be embarrassing for a young adult. Walking into the wrong classroom, calling someone by the incorrect name, or even tripping down the stairs. However, I now know that not having a driver's license shouldn't be something for me to be ashamed of. The time would come when I would feel brave enough to sit behind the wheel and travel on my own. However, until that moment arrived, I was grateful to have found a friend to keep me company on this bumpy road of early adulthood. He was kind and had a sense of humor. Most importantly, he reminded me that everyone is unique and has something beautiful to offer to the world, each in his or her own time
