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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
4.0 out of 5 stars
I rewrote the ending of Edgar Sawtelle,
By Bob "Sweet Music" (St. Paul, Minnesota) - See all my reviews
This review is from: The Story of Edgar Sawtelle: A Novel (P.S.) (Paperback)
After reading many comments, I agree that the ending was absolutely useless. Why care about Edgar and all the papers when the author has the ending like this? I suggest that you read the book, then add on my ending.1 The Ending...If anything, the boy looked peaceful. Edgar, lying flat on his back, his arms and legs looking as if he were a discarded puppet, Claude knelt beside him. Edgar's thoughts wandered from Almondine's familiar bark to his father's soothing smile. "Edgar!" Were those words from his father? Almondine? Claude shouted again. "Edgar!" He shook the boy's shoulder, pleading silently for the poison to work its will. Edgar managed to open his eyes. Squinting through the harsh smoke, he saw Claude kneeling beside him. One hand on Edgar's chest and the other on the boy's leg, the hypodermic needle grasped in his blackened fist; Claude's face, twisted with anger. Suddenly his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Edgar could barely hear Claude whisper, "What am I doing? You aren't Gar." Claude's line of sight led down to the needle. He dropped it as if it had stung him. Then with a mighty toss, he pitched the hypodermic needle across the barn. Edgar heard his father say, "Claude. Some people are evil. That man was evil and he was insane. Mom and dad tried to help you forget, but in those days there wasn't much help for those sorts of things. Don't blame Edgar." Claude lifted his head, as if to catch sight of whom was talking. There he was, holding the hypodermic needle tip between his thumb and forefinger. He walked over to them and continued. Gar said, "I tried to talk to you about it, but you kept pulling away. Those times you cried in school and church and at night in your bed; I tried." "No you didn't!" Claude screamed. He held his head and rocked back and forth while reciting, "The bad seed comes from the bad. The good seed comes from the good." Gar said, "You never let dad get close to you. You never let anyone get close to you. Drugs were your answer." "I wanted to kill you! You needed to be killed. I wanted a normal life. I wanted your life. I wanted to be loved by dad too. I wanted him to be proud." "You killed me but don't kill my boy." The hay bales around them were quickly reducing to ashes as flames licked the wooden steps leading up to the mow. Claude released his head and looked down at the boy who's life's breath was almost depleted. "Edgar, Edgar." Claude shouted, trying to coax him into getting up. Edgar tried to sign but his body lay limp, starved for oxygen. Claude pressed the palms of his hands into his eye sockets, trying to clear them of smoke, when he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder. "We can do this together." She wasn't sure what she was seeing, until they cleared the curtain of smoke. "Edgar!" Trudy screamed as she continued to struggle from Glen's hold. Glen's arms and legs were bloodied with deep scratches and his jaw nearly broken, from Trudy's attempt to escape him. As Edgar and Claude collapsed on the ground just outside the barn doors, Trudy unzipped Glen's pants and grasped his genitals. She squeezed and pulled, her nails biting into his skin. Moaning, he relaxed his grip momentarily, just enough time for Trudy to break free. She stumbled and ran, watching the fire lick outward toward Edgar. "Edgar!" Trudy grasped him by the collar and drug him up the hill to where Glen was still withering in pain. Holding Edgar close, Trudy listened to his shallow breathing as the blaze engulfed the barn. Laying alone, sooty tears of remorse cut two rivulets down Claude's cheeks. He looked up into the sky. "I didn't mean it, Gar. I just wanted what was due me. I-" With those words, the fire reached out and curled around him and as the blackened haze lay heavy upon his chest, Claude shrieked. 2 Cash came in from donations and as the town's people helped with the barn raising. To help make ends meet, a petting zoo was established and maintained by Glen. His sight gone, he was still able to clean the kennels and take care of the geese, chickens, pigs, and goat. He earned enough for his room and board; a bedroom set up in Claude's old room. It wasn't long before the runs were all in place and the Sawtelle dogs were now a booming business. The barn was smaller than the original but it provided them with all they needed...including a small room in the hayloft for Essay and Edgar to sleep occasionally. One Saturday morning, as Edgar sat at the kitchen table, gulping down a glass of milk and an egg sandwich, the phone rang. "Hello. May I please speak to Edgar?" Edgar's mother questioningly gives Edgar the phone. "I have your dogs." Henry said, "They found me all right. I'm packing them up in a neighbor's van and bringing them back before they eat me out of my house and home." Edgar signs to his mother to tell Henry that if it were okay with her, he'd like for Henry to stay a few nights and get to know the rest of his family. The wedding took place nearly a year after the fire. Edgar loved having Henry around and was happy to see his mother's smile, as genuine, once more. It would take some time before Henry would grasp everything about the Sawtelle dogs, but he was learning quickly and there was enough work for everyone, after Forte fathered three hardy litters with Essay. The Sawtelle farm grew into a fortune; one with many bumps along the way, but plenty of hugs to go around. After veternarian school, Edgar married a girl from town. Her name was Elizabeth. And as it was with Edgar, their little boy asked how they met. "We met in the diner in town. Your mother poked me in the shoulder and said, "My gramma told me that before you were born, God told you a secret he didn't want anyone else to know." The End
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