Arnold and his Grandpa go to fix a roof. More importantly, Grandpa Phil has a lot of fun poking jokes at youth. This one would take place late in the series. For chronology, please see my profile.
On a tranquil, bright, and cloudless Saturday, Eugene Horowitz walked along the muddy banks of Hillwood Lake. The red-haired boy hummed a sprightly tune, then feeling especially boisterous, he pressed himself up off his toes in a quick jump as he clapped the heels of feet together before falling harmlessly back on the ground to continue his stroll.
One could hear crickets chirping in the heat. Frogs sang and Eugene cast the line of a pole into Hillwood Lake. Then, the boy lifted one of his hands upturned to utter some fate-tempting words.
"Wow! What a perfect day for fishing!" said Eugene with a broad smile. "Not a cloud in the sky!" No sooner than had Eugene finished his words then a strong breeze whirled, nearly buffeting Eugene forwards. Clouds knotted in the sky above the lake like ants descend on cake at a picnic. Water began to sheet down from the sky as if someone had turned on a faucet of water.
"Help, help!" a voice cried. It was Sid further out on a small island in the marsh. The storm was ruffling the surface of Hillwood Lake and had scared the boy into a tree. A frightened Sid waved his hand about toward Eugene. Eugene turned his head. By his side, a paddle boat was moored. Unlike the one Arnold and Gerald had used, this swan's head had angry eyebrows and its bill curled downwards in a grimace. Eugene set out across the choppy waves in the paddleboat.
"Help, help!" Sid shouted before falling into the swan boat from a large tree. Startled, he sat up and peered across the boat at Eugene. Eugene forced a grim grin. Their boat spun around in circles to smash into a rowboat piloted by Harold and Stinky. They, too, had been fishing. At least they had been smart enough to wear life vests.
"Stupid, Eugene!" Harold grimaced. "This is all your fault!" Harold pointed up at the sky above them. A curious gray cloud was centered directly above their boat. A whirlpool was forming below them.
"Oh Harold!" Eugene sung as he uplifted his hands in a placating gesture. "How could that be?"
"When this is over," Harold glowered while trying to paddle to keep upright. "I'm gonna pound you!"
But the effects of Eugene's bad luck was limited. Instead of getting sucked into the whirlpool, an enormous wave swept all four boys and the rowboat onto the roof of a sushi hut. It was a modest outdoor, dockside restaurant, with its bare minimum of barstools and a serving counter with its roll-up window. But the restaurant owner was there, shouting at them in a voice that was oddly much like Mr. Hyunh's.
"Hey! Get off of my roof!" the restaurant owner said. Harold considered his current situation.
"Um, Sir? Can we get some help down please?" Harold said with exceptional sweetness for the boy.
Arnold had not noted any of the sudden downpour out his window. He was hunkered down on the living room couch instead, enjoying what he loved to do most of Saturdays- watch cartoon shows. When Arnold had finished watching his favorite Saturday morning cartoons, the sky was already drying just as rapidly as the rain had come. Now, there was only the faint, pattering, rat-a-tatt of rain striking windows panes. These faint raindrops hardly seemed ominous. Yet when Arnold walked into the hall, it was to find his Grandfather conversing seriously on the old telephone in the lowermost hall.
"Hm," Grandpa Phil said rubbing his chin in thought. Then he swung his fist with enthusiasm. "Sure! Shortman and I will be right over! Right, Shortman?"
"What?" Arnold asked standing stockstill.
"Arnold says he can't wait to help out! Just have some desserts and snacks ready for some hard-working men, will ya? See ya in a few shakes!" Arnold's grandpa said hanging up the phone. Arnold narrowed his eyes at him.
"Grandpa? What was that about?"
"Get your parka and get in the car, Arnold," Phil advised quickly. "We're going to help out an old friend."
"Of yours?"
"Remember that old duplex on the beach we use sometimes? Well, the man who owns it is an old friend of mine. Lets us rent it for cheap when it's standing there vacant. And he's also a landlord. That's about as far as the friendship goes, oooh, except he makes good cake! The man mostly lets out restaurants, you know. He offered for me to buy the duplex once or twice but we haven't got the cash for that sort of investment. Not with our falling down heap."
"Grandpa. The boarding house isn't that bad. Especially since Ernie and Mr. Huynh started helping you out with the repairs."
"Hm, and you and your friends started playing baseball at Gerald's Field instead of the backyard. Well, alright, Shortman. The boarding house is getting more in ship-shape but it sure isn't some Valhalla. Not unless we rob a carpet and flooring store."
"Grandpa, we just need to remodel the rooms one at a time and it will all work out! I've got the model on my computer."
"Um, nerdy kid," Grandpa muttered under his breath between missing teeth. Arnold moved around the house, getting his parka and pausing to feed Abner some kibble.
"Are we going?" Arnold prompted his Grandpa as he pulled on his parka.
"Yep!" said Arnold's grandpa jangling his keys. "Only I'm driving! Nope, no matter how much you beg it's my turn!"
"Grandpa, you always drive," admonished Arnold.
"Oh, pooh, I was hoping to get you jealous enough to drive for me. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to wait until you get your license."
"Do that," Arnold said forcing patience upon himself as he shooed Abner's nose away from the crack in the door so that he might close it after him. The pig snuffed and trotted back to his food bowl to resume eating.
It was a short but roundabout drive to the duplex on the beach. They had to take the freeway which stretched around and through the city instead taking a bus. Arnold's Grandpa kept the windows of the Packard rolled down as they sailed along. Grandpa sung rather badly to an old song.
At length, Arnold was able to climb out of the shotgun seat of the Packard and stare up at the old beach duplex. Two ladders were propped up against the side of the house. But as yet, Arnold had yet to see anybody.
"Hello?" Arnold called all around. As he called, Grandpa Phil joined him and placed a fond hand on his shoulder. Three very unexpected people came out of the house.
"Helga?"
"Arnold?" The two kids stared at one another in shock. Helga was wearing pink shorts and a white and black year-of-the rooster T-shirt, as well as a pink hoodie for a rare change in attire.
"What are you doing here?"
"Whaddya mean what am I doing here? What are you doing here?"
"Helping to fix a roof," Arnold said holding his hand up helpfully."
"Oh, that explains it. Sorta," said Helga lifting an eyebrow.
"Are you staying here?"
"Not really. Miriam is thinking of buying the joint. Can't say I know the reason why."
"Oh come on, now honey!" Miriam duly stated as she lurched forward with a small clutch bag purse in hand. "You know I have to spend your father's money somewhere." Helga blinked hard as her face fell in astonishment at her mother's callous words. Yet the rude boldness was familiar.
"Yes, that is why I need your help, Phil," said a man only as little taller than Ernie but twice as wide. "This woman is interested in buying the duplex but only if I fix the roof. I can give you all the cake wish in return!"
"All the cake I wish? Hm! Better make it a weekly delivery then!" said Phil rubbing his hands together greedily. "This is going to be expensive! So what now?"
"Now, we go into town and get some supplies for the roof!"
"Well, alright, but we've got to work fast before the rain comes!" observed Grandpa Phil. "Well time's awasting! You stay here Arnold and keep the ladies enthralled by your presence!" Grandpa said with a sly wink. Arnold gaped as he and the other landlord tore off.
"And I'll go too, Helga!" said Miriam. She felt for her car door. "I'll be back. I'll get us sandwiches or something."
"Yes, go on, abandon your daughter in the middle of the beach with no one but another child for company," Helga muttered under her breath as she crossed her arms as if angry. But as soon as Miriam closed her car door and sped away, Helga broke out into a loopy, love-sick smile instead.
"Oh, fortuna! The lights of good luck smile on me at last! Alone on the beach with…" Helga said pulling her locket out of her shirtfront.
"You DO know I'm standing right behind you still?" Arnold interrupted Helga blandly. "So put down that locket and come inside the house."
"Okay," Helga relented, shoving the heart-shaped locket down the front of her shirt. Arnold held the door open for with a sly smile.
The two young persons strolled into the kitchen on one-half of the duplex as if they owned it. Arnold cracked open the fridge and to avoid looking into an over-bright lightbulb, squinted one-eyed at its contents. "Hm," Arnold murmured before finding a few unopened water bottles. Then he dragged out a large plastic container.
"What's that?" Helga asked wrinkling up her nose.
"Must be the cake Mr. Moe promised us," Arnold said uncovering the confectionary treat. But Helga wrinkled her nose at it.
"No thanks!" she gestured. "That cake is pink. I don't trust it. Got anything else?"
"Well, we could go down to the Gyro stand on the beach," Arnold suggested. The two wandered off. But all that greeted them down on the beach was the hiss of the sea in the distance and a bunch of stalls now shuttered with planks and boards.
"Wow, I forgot," Arnold mumbled with remorse. "It's not summer yet so everyone is closed. The beach is so empty now."
"Well, it is a little cold," said Helga hunching up her shoulders as a few drops of rain sprinkled here and there. "Let's go back! Maybe Miriam has got those sandwiches by now."
"Yeah, maybe Grandpa is back with Mr. Moe with the roofing supplies," Arnold reasoned. He marched back towards the duplex.
The two kids arrived back at the duplex. Arnold pulled off his rain coat and hung it on a coat rack by the door. Then, while Arnold had gone ahead of to the kitchen, Helga stole a touch of the edge of Arnold's blue coat. The sensation was soothing somehow. But Arnold was calling her name from the kitchen and so she, too, walked ahead.
"Look at this!" said Arnold rummaging through a cupboard. "An unopened box of pancake mix. And it hasn't expired. Maybe I'll try to make us some pancakes. Would you like some, Helga?"
"Sure, if you want to!" Helga replied. "But while you're working on those, I'm going to make a pitstop in the ol' powder room. Is that alright with you?"
"Yeah," said Arnold turning to his work. Helga snuck off to the bathroom. Then she stared into the mirror and pressed a hand against her drum rolling heart.
"Ooh! Arnold's going to make us pancakes! How romantic, I think I'm gonna die! Especially if, in some wildly ethereal fantasy come true, Arnold made those little hearts shaped out of butter for the the pancakes." Helga said dreamily as she squinched her thumb and pointer finger together in the size of the imagined butter paddy. Helga let another dreamy sigh escape her lips. Then, with a jolt, she straightened herself upright.
"Wait a sec, I should tidy up a little for our big moment," Helga realized suddenly. She pulled a hairbrush out of the drawer. Then she opened another drawer and pulled out a tray full of different colored ribbons. Helga tried on many colors and makes of ribbons (solid blue, red plaid, zig-zag, and polka dot) before ultimately deciding on a going with- yes you guessed it- another pink one. Again. But who can mess with perfection?
Arnold was engrossed in his task of cooking pancakes when Grandpa Phil and Mr. Moe came back from the hardware store. Swiftly, they unloaded some materials.
"Grandpa, you're back!" said Arnold. "That was quick."
"Er, hum, not quite Shortman," said Grandpa Phil jaunting his hips. "We have to go back to make a second trip. Say, what happened to that Mrs. Pataki character?"
"She went out," explained Arnold.
"Hum, is that so?" asked Phil sharply. "Well, change of plan Arnold! I'll stay here while you go with Mr. Moe to pick up the remainder of the supplies we need. No sense in letting two tempestuous youths hang out at a beach house all by themselves. At least not till sophomore year of college, for you pally! Now go on, off with yah!"
"Sure," Arnold said glancing backwards at his Grandpa. Phil took over finishing the flapjack, then placed it on a plate. He poured syrup on it, then chuckled as he sat.
Soon Helga had dressed herself in her usual pink dress. Helga patted her hair and its newly reappointed pink bow. "Perfect!" said Helga in her standard clothes. She pranced into the kitchen anticipating to see Arnold. Helga's spirited skip came to a screeching halt as she spotted Phil in the kitchen instead of Arnold. She grit her teeth in disappointment.
"Arnold's Grandpa?" Helga uttered. Maybe she would have left. But Arnold's grandpa had spotted her. He grinned with a mischievous delight.
"Ah-ha! So, it's the little girl with the one-eyebrow again! The name's Phil by the way."
"So where is Arnold?" Helga said lifting her brow slightly. She folded her arms. "He was just here."
"Gone to town," said Phil. He stuffed the second half of the pancake into his mouth before he wiped his lips with a handkerchief. "But you're mighty interested. Tell me, girl, be honest." said Phil narrowing his eyes with shrewdness. "You like my Grandson, don't you?"
"What!? No I don't!" Helga gaped with an open mouth at the sudden accusation.
"Yes you do," Phil swiftly undermined Helga's denial.
"No I don't," Helga snapped back.
"Yes you do." Helga glared up at Phil. She grit her teeth and slid them against one another.
"Okay, okay, okay! I do!" Helga snapped out loud. Phil broke out into wild laughter. He even pointed a finger at Helga.
"Eee-hahahaha!" Phil chortled, still pointing.
"Why you!" A thoroughly embarrassed Helga raised a fist.
"Ooh, whatcha gonna do?" Phil guffawed. He turned and wagged his butt. "Oh, careful not to break my plastic hip when you beat me up. It was expensive."
"Humph!" Helga said. Lowering her fist, she crossed her arms and glared fiercely at Arnold's Grandpa.
"Aren't you a little too much unlike Arnold to be his Grandpa? What're you, adopted or something," Helga said in an insulting voice. Phil scratched his bald head.
"You know I ask myself that all the time, too. Maybe I wandered off and somewhere out there is another Grandson waiting for me to come home. But you remind me of Gertie, you do! Same spit and vinegar. Oooh, Arnold will have a bad old time with you!" Grandpa said in delight.
"Humph! What do you want with me old man," Helga snubbed.
"Nothing. I just wanted to mess with you. It's so much fun! But while we're on the subject, be good to Arnold. That kid is good mostly, unlike you or me."
"Pfft! Be good to Arnold? What are you saying," Helga blustered. "So we're in the same grade. I won't cheat off his test papers or nothin'!"
"Oh come on," Phil said sweeping a hand through the air before he snuck his nose in front of Helga's face, making her yet more uncomfortable. "The kid has a shine for you! Do you think I haven't noticed? Well, it makes no difference to me so long as Shortman follows three rules, rules unsuitable to say on public television."
"Huh?" Helga twisted her face in confused innocence. "You're brain's busted, Grandpa. How about go eat some tea and cookies and leave me alone?"
"Oooh, tea and cookies?" grinned Phil. "How about you make the tea? And forget about them cookies. We have cake!"
After some time, tires rolled up to the beach duplex with a dull roar. They stopped, and two car doors swung open. It was Arnold and Mr. Moe, arrived with the rest of the roofing supplies they needed. Arnold, eager to see what had gone on during his absence, grabbed hold of the front door handle and made his way to the kitchen. What he saw surprised him. The current occupants of the kitchen were surprised, too. Helga HAD been pouring tea from a teapot into a mug for Arnold's Grandpa, but when Arnold arrived, the tea water missed and ran all over the floor. Helga had been staring back at Arnold instead of watching what she was doing.
"Hi," Arnold said with a disbelieving pause. He kept his eyes transfixed on the strange sight before him.
"You two seem to be getting along pretty well," Arnold said with a suggestion of suspicion. "How did that happen?"
"Oh, well, even I can be civil sometimes, Arnoldo," said Helga, her shoulders coiled and tense.
"Yes, that's right, Arnold!" said Grandpa Phil. "We weren't talking about you behind your back at all!"
"Right," Arnold said. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion for a moment, he pulled out a chair for himself and sat down at the table.
"May I have some tea, too, Helga?" Arnold asked politely.
"Get your own cup!" Helga snapped. Phil snickered.
"I….I mean of course there's plenty left! In fact why don't you take the whole pot! Whew! Excuse me," said Helga before stamping off. "Girl's room! She slammed a door shut to disappear from view.
"Ooh, that was obvious," Grandpa Phil said before taking a swig from his mug. "Say, Arnold. We all need to get on the roof. So here's a Mr. Nutty Bar. You'll need your strength for lifting." Arnold took the candy offered.
"Right," Arnold said, glad to getting to work at last.
Mr. Moe, Arnold, and Grandpa Phil set up ladders on the side of the house. Arnold helped to pass boxes and boards to the men on the ladders and soon, all their supplies were up on the roof. Helga climbed up one of the ladders, too, to watch. The workers began to hammer wood, then lay down roofing paper. As they neared the last patch to paper, Grandpa Phil pulled a can of spray paint out of his pocket and shook it. Then he spray painted "Hedy" in a large heart-shape on the exposed plywood.
"Grandpa, what are you doing?" Arnold scolded.
"Putting some memento in a roof before it's sealed is tradition, Arnold. Goes back centuries and then some." Grandpa countered. His friend, Mr. Moe, gave Phil the thumb's up and took the can to add a cupcake to the roof.
"Oooh, now that's art," Phil approved. "Come on Shortman, you take the can!" Grandpa said offering the can towards Arnold before he swiftly changed his mind. "Aw, I'll do it!" said Grandpa Phil swiping the spray can from Arnold's hand. "You two are too namby pamby, wishy washy to do it yourselves. There!" Grandpa Phil pointed down. He had written "Arnold + Helga" in red spray paint.
"Grandpa!" Arnold exclaimed in protest as Helga gaped. "Grandpa, do you have to?!" exclaimed Arnold in protest.
"Yes, Arnold, I do. That precious but miserable look on your face makes my life worth living!"
"Well, for once, Gramps, you and I agree on something."
"Unbelievable," said Arnold. Arnold lay the remaining sheet of roofing paper down. Swiftly they began to nail roofing over it. A wind began to gust.
Tap-tap-tap! The sound of furious hammers struck a rooftop. A piece of roofing paper fluttered upwards in the wind only to be slammed back down with Helga's helping hands. Arnold's Grandpa Phil was pounding nails into the rooftop with a hammer, as was his grandson Arnold and a black mustached man with a thick, foreign accent. But a feminine voice also carried over the wind.
"Hand me that hammer over there, Arnold!" Helga snapped. "I can pound nails just as good as any boy!" They all crowded over a bare patch of the roof. After the roofing paper was fixed, they slammed asphalt shingles onto the rooftop as fast as possible by forming a bucket line. Grandpa Phil nailed them down.
"Alright kids!" Phil shouted gesturing with the hammer without releasing it. Get on down to the ground. And be careful on the ladder so you don't slip!"
"Alright, Gramps!" Helga spoke up. Her hand was already curled around the top rung of the ladder. She climbed down out of sight. Soon, Helga, Arnold, Phil, and Phil's mustached friend all stood on the front porch to the duplex as a rain began. Arnold surveyed the pleasant, but empty stretch of beach sand stretched out in front of the house. Then a slim hand and wrist pushed open the front door to the house. Miriam Pataki stepped out onto the porch to let everyone in.
"Oh, great, you're here!" Miriam hummed. "Well, look at that, it's raining!" she complained.
"Um, so ya wanna play cards?" Grandpa Phil suggested.
"An excellent idea, friend!" said Mr. Moe as they went into the house. Arnold and Helga both lingered on the porch for a moment. There was something they both wanted to talk about. But instead, the mouths of both hung open in unspoken speech. Finally, after some time, Helga's jaw snapped shut and her eyes took on resolution.
"We never talk of this again, right?" said Helga, clearing the air.
"Right!" Arnold snapped back with a grin. He rubbed the back of his neck. "And I'm really not sure I feel good about Grandpa broadcasting his love of Hedy Lamarr. It's kind of embarrassing."
"Well, I'll forget if you do, Arnold," Helga spoke with all seriousness. "And I think I'll skip the cards and read comic books instead. You in?"
"Yeah," Arnold said with a lingering awkwardness. He opened the door for Helga to walk through then closed the door behind the two of them. The end.