A/N: I wanted to do something in honor of Steve Viksten, who passed away on the 24th of June. He was the voice actor of Oskar Kokashka and wrote many episodes of Hey Arnold!, including one of my favorites - 'Arnold's Hat.'
RIP Steve 1960-2014
Oskar Can Read
"No! I can't do it!"
Oskar lifted his head, tilting it towards his apartment door. Small feet tried to slam against the wooden steps leading up to the attic - Arnold's former room. Oskar rose out of his reclined leather chair, folding his newspaper and setting his tea down. Suzie hadn't heard the commotion, she was too occupied on the phone with her cousin Nancy discussing plans for "Baby" Oskar's wedding. It had been over twenty years since Oskar had seen him, helpless and adorable, crying and overwhelming.
Oskar opened his front door slightly, peering at Arnold as he rubbed his head in frustration. Arnold had his tie loosened around his neck and collar unbuttoned. He may have been a man now, in his early thirties, married with children, but Oskar still saw a nine-year-old boy smiling at him from across the dinner table.
Arnold sighed and turned away, heading down the stairs back to the family room.
Oskar followed Miles up to the attic. He was five now, starting kindergarden in a few weeks, and very nervous. Oskar had heard his older sister teasing Miles for not being able to read yet. Oskar knew that Miles was smart and curious, just like his father. He was probably close to a real breakthrough. He assumed Miles had been trying to learn just now, and got too frustrated.
Miles was a very calm, even-tempered boy. Even when he was a newborn, he hardly cried. Oskar was grateful for that.
Oskar returned to his apartment and picked a small book off his lower shelf, feeling some aches and pains in his knees as he stood up. He laughed to himself, finally realizing just how old he'd gotten. Life happened so fast.
"Hello? Miles?" Oskar knocked on the door which hadn't been shut completely.
"Go away!"
Oskar opened the door.
Miles lifted his head out of his pillow, ready to scream louder, but stopped when he saw Mr. Kokashka. Dad had always told him Mr. Kokashka didn't respect boundaries well. "Sorry, Mr. Kokashka."
Oskar smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed, "What do I keep telling you, kid? Call me Oskar."
Miles shook his head, "Daddy says it's inpolite."
"I think you mean impolite."
Miles' eyes filled with water. "I'm so stupid!"
"No, no, you are not." Oskar set his book aside and moved closer to Miles. Miles climbed into his lap and Oskar tried to hide his struggle of the additional forty-pound weight.
"I don't know how to read. And Sissy says it means I'm stupid."
Oskar wiped a stray tear and smiled, "That's what you will learn in school."
"Did you learn to read in school?" Miles perked up at his own question, as he loved to hear stories from the borders. He knew his family was cool. And very different from other families.
"Well. . . I didn't learn English in school. I'm from a far off country that used to be called Czechoslovakia, and I learned how to read and speak in Czech. That's why my voice sounds different sometimes, I have an accent." Oskar grinned. He liked talking to children, he felt less pressured to speak properly or in full sentences. It was a struggle sometimes, even after over forty years in America. When he went out to dinner with Suzie, she still ordered his meal. A habit no one bothered to break.
"Wow!" Miles smiled, "I always thought you sounded funny, but Mommy always said it was not my business."
Oskar laughed, hearing Helga's sharp voice in the back of his head. "Sounds like your mother all right."
"So you read English?"
"Now I can. For a long time, Miles, I didn't know how to read. I didn't learn it because I felt stupid too."
"But you are so smart! You taught me all about horses!"
"I know, but back before I learned, I was scared. I didn't want anyone to laugh at me. I could talk in English and that was all that mattered."
"So when did you read?"
"Well, it was over twenty years ago. Can you count that high?"
"I know that 20 is all of my fingers and toes!"
Oskar laughed. "Yes, It was a long time ago when I learned. Your daddy actually helped me."
"Really?"
Oskar nodded, "I was hoping you would let me help you." He lifted up the book, smiling as he ran his hand over the picture of a cat. It was his own copy of Pet the Kitty, the first book he'd learned to read in English. "Do you know the alphabet?" Miles nodded eagerly before sliding out of Oskar's lap, pulling on his arm to look at the cover of the book. Miles quickly recited all twenty-six letters.
"That was great!. . .Do you want to try sounding out the title with me?"
Miles swallowed hard, looking up at Oskar with glossed eyes, "Will you make fun of me?"
"I promise Miles, I will not."
Miles smiled and began pronouncing the letter 'P' until he felt comfortable adding 'e' and 't.' "P-Puh. . .peh. . .pet."
"Great job, Miles. I know you can do this."
*-H-A-*
Arnold had been sitting on the staircase for almost ten minutes, listening to Oskar cheer Miles up. He knew this moment was always supposed to be a big deal for parents, being there when their child read for the first time. But traditional didn't exactly occur in the Sunset Arms Boarding House.
Arnold knew it was the right thing to move back into the boarding house after returning from college. His lovable, wacky grandparents had begun to mellow out slightly and their age became a constant worry. Arnold took over the boarding house after they died. The house became very quiet after their death, but it didn't last long, with the birth of his daughter occurring shortly after.
Arnold always felt badly for Oskar. When he was in high school Arnold finally learned that he and Suzie could not have children, and it devastated them both. Arnold had been certain and afraid one of them would leave, but after a few weeks of fights and broken dishes, they reconciled and agreed that it was okay to not have children of their own. Suzie started volunteering at children's homes and shelters, and she became very connected to the children within the foster care system. She wanted to adopt, but knew it would be a struggle to get the correct legal forms for Oskar. And it would seem especially hard on paper since Oskar only held part time work whenever he felt like it. . .which, in turn, gave him a lot of time to be around the Sunset Arms and Miles.
Luckily, Oskar got along with Helga too. The two of them often had low-stakes bets with each other, which allowed Oskar to gamble without risking too much. Helga worked from the boarding house, doing freelance writing for different magazines while working on a book of poetry. When Miles was much smaller, Oskar would sit in the attic with him as he slept. Arnold knew they had a special relationship. And he knew that this was a big deal for both of them.
*-H-A-*
"Kit. .ty. . .kitty, kitty, do you li. . .ke to pet the kitty? I like to pet the kitty!" Miles grinned as he turned the last page of the book.
"I'm proud of you, Miles."
Oskar jumped. "Oh, sorry, Arnold, I'll let you-"
"No, Oskar," Arnold sat down on the other side of Miles, "thank you."
"Daddy! You wanna hear me read?"
"Of course I do. Let's go get Mommy too, okay?"
Miles jumped to his feet and took off running down the stairs, laughing.
Oskar cracked his back as he rose to his feet. "Eh, sitting all day and not working has made me old fast."
Arnold put his hand on Oskar's shoulder, "Thank you for everything. It really means a lot to me, and to Miles."
"Hey, what can I say? I love that little guy."
"We love you too."