There comes a time for all childhood bullies to grow up. For Helga G. Pataki, that time was Mid-March of her fifth grade year. Something happened to shake her, so she never went there again. She never wanted to.
It all began with rage. It always began with rage- with her pain and tears she could not shed. Harold Berman was getting under her skin deliberately. So, too were a lot of the sixth grade girls who shared the locker next to her. They made a wall at the lockers that she had to elbow her way through every time as they did their hair and just as tall as she, they were equally as snarky.
The last straw came when Harold made a crack about Helga's developing curves. More precocious than most, her chest had begun to mound and her hips widened ever so slightly. Though it was a year till true puberty began, the form had begun to shift from girl to woman. So, too, had her moods. Helga felt more tearful than ever.
So when Harold had made one wisecrack too far about her butt getting fat, Helga slammed her locker shut. "That's it, Pink-Boy!" she had ranted, falling into her familiar theme. Harold jumped, and running, scooted into the nearest room. He held the door shut behind him by pulling on the handle. Helga pounded on the door. It would not budge. Harold cat-called from within, thinking he had won. But the door was not the plain steel and glass one most classrooms used. This was a wooden door with humble brass hinges. If she kicked it, the wood would be relatively soft, not unpleasant like steel. So with rage flowing through her, Helga kicked her foot against it. The roundhouse kick was sound- it felt like swiftly running water. Even Helga was surprised when instead of jarring Harold from his hold on the door, the screws in the brass hinges popped and the door to the teacher's lounge fell over, revealing the dumb-struck boy.
"You!" Helga yelled, advancing. With a yelp, Harold scrambled over a desk, the papers flying. When Helga had rounded the desk Harold had gotten round it and next the door. Nimbly for one so overweight, he bolted it through it and disappeared from sight.
"That… that jerk!" Helga frothed. By circumstance, none of the teachers had been in the teacher's lounge so none stopped Helga as she jogged out of the teacher's lounge and began her hunt for the loud-mouthed boy.
"That, Harold Berman!" Helga muttered out loud. "I'll shut his trap good!" She waved her fist threateningly. Racing down the hallway, Helga stopped by the entrance to the boy's locker room. Without even turning around, Helga heard Harold Berman say, "she'll never find me in here!" out loud. Then a footstep.
"Ah ha!" said Helga whipping around, thinking Harold was trying to sneak off behind her. She lashed out her fist at the figure just beyond her. She heard her fist connect with a solid thunk, but instead of a sudden flash of pink, there was a flash of blond instead. What, blond?
"Ow!" came a voice, soft and beloved. Helga gasped, then kneeled to the floor. She trembled.
"Arnold?! Oh no! What have I done!" She shuttered. "Arnold! Speak to me! Are you okay?! I thought you were Harold!" Arnold Shortman sat up and rubbed his cheek where it stung.
"Helga? Why did you?" the boy trailed off, his eyes full of hurt. Then real anger. He stood up.
"Helga!" the boy said, his own hands fisting at his side. "You always said you'd hit me. I never really thought you'd go through with it!" Helga folded both hands over her heart.
"It was an accident! I'm SOOO SORRY! Arnold, I never meant to hurt you! Please, please, please forgive me!" Helga said tearing up. When Arnold stood before her, unweilding in his own rage, she kneeled on the floor and sobbed. Now Arnold was shocked in another way. Helga didn't often cry.
"I'm not going to say that it's okay," said Arnold rubbing his cheek again, "because it isn't! Why did you do that?!"
"I don't know!" Helga sobbed, her eyes hidden by her hands. "I thought it was Harold making fun of me again!"
"Helga…" Arnold trailed off at a loss as he watched the girl in the pink dress cry. Even he couldn't comfort her at a time like this. Especially since it was he that she had just hit.
"I know!" said Helga stumbling to her feet. "I'll make it up to you! Come on!" said Helga running ahead of him down the hall. Arnold did not move. He just watched as as Helga pulled dollar bills from her pocket and fed them into the vending machine. There must have been a lot of money in her pocket because in the next moment, Helga came back with every last candy bar bar that had been in the vending machine. She shoved them in Arnold's arms.
"Helga!" Arnold said, lifting his voice with irritation. Helga flinched.
"Still not enough? That's okay! I'll make it up to you!" Helga promised wildly. "I'll be your eternal servant! Whatever you want of me! I'll carry your math books, hold the door open, save you a bus seat! I have some tickets to Wrestlemania I can give to you! Maybe you'd like a new mitt! Please forgive me, Arnold!" Arnold stared back at the pleading face. Then he dropped the candy in his arms in a shower on the floor.
"Buying me with favors isn't going to make this go away, Helga," said Arnold. "You need to stop!" Helga teared up again.
"You're right, Arnold! I'm a beast! I shouldn't exist!" At this, Arnold forgot some of his anger. He placed a hand on Helga's shoulder instead.
"Listen to yourself!" the boy demanded. "Don't say things like that! I'll forgive you Helga, but on one condition. I don't want things like this to happen again! So…" said the boy thinking. He tapped his chin.
"So, what?" asked Helga her fright building. But Arnold's frown turned into a secretive grin.
"You'll see! Now when I ask you to do something you'll do it, right? No questions asked! Right?"
"What kind of…" Helga started to ask out of habit. But Arnold shook a finger at her. "Ah, ah! No questions!" Then, with a gentle smile spreading, the boy turned and walked away, leaving Helga to her fear.
The day following, Arnold came down and sat at his desk. Helga didn't say good morning as she usually did. Instead, she leaned over and delicately perched a bundle of roses so large Arnold couldn't see over it on his desk. By the looks of it, she had bought every flower in Mrs. Vitello's shop.
"Um, hello Helga," Arnold greeted uncertainly. "I want you to come with me someplace after school today. Alright?" He tilted his head and gave Helga a wary stare.
"Alright," said Helga, although her eyes rolled back and forth as she examined the riddle before her. But she remembered the rule. No questions.
After school had ended, Helga waited at her classroom desk for all the students to leave. Arnold had done the same, his hands folded together almost as if in prayer. The last school bus home left, driving past Mr. Simmon's window in a cloud of dust. Arnold scooted back from his chair and rested his hand against its back.
"Let's go, Helga," said Arnold, his voice soft and mysterious. They boarded a city bus and rode it downtown. They stopped amongst office building skyscrapers and Arnold led the way towards a familiar gray one. Helga stalled on her feet.
"You tricked me!" Helga complained. But Arnold smiled and kept a hand on her shoulder so that she could not spin around to flee easily.
"Obviously!" said he. But Arnold was quite pleased with his trick. Helga remembered the rule, 'no questions' but now she didn't need any as Arnold led her up to Dr. Bliss's office. He stood quietly with his arms folded behind his back as they rode up the musicless elevator.
"You remember the time you punched Brainy?" Arnold asked indifferently. Helga could not help herself. She scowled.
"Obviously!"
"Well, this is a little like that time," said Arnold catching her hand. He half-walked, half-dragged Helga to the receptionist and waited at the desk. The receptionist looked up over her rimmed glasses.
"Why, hello Arnold!" said she. "We talked to the school district… discretely… and decided they would foot the bill instead of you. So the session is free! Go right in. Dr. Bliss is waiting for you!"
"Both of us?!" Helga sputtered wildly. But Arnold pressed Helga gently in the door. Feeling like a caged monkey on display, she balanced herself on the edge of the couch beside Arnold and twiddle her thumbs, looking everywhere except at him. But Dr. Bliss looked directly at Arnold.
"Why, hello Arnold!" she said with perfect makeup and an immaculate grin. But Dr. Bliss was a beautiful person to look at, and calming. She still wore her lilac-colored dress. "I'm so glad you could make it today! And I see you've brought Helga with you!" Helga turned her head.
"You?! You've been here before?!" But Arnold grinned.
"Remember the spitballs?" Arnold said. "I got sent here same as you." Helga rolled her eyes and kept her gaze downcast.
"I didn't know. Sorry," she mumbled.
"Don't be," said Arnold. Dr. Bliss scribbled something in her notebook, then gently set down her pen.
"So, Arnold. Is there something you wanted especially to talk about today?"
"Actually, there is," said the boy. "It's about Helga. You see, well, she hit me," Arnold admitted softly. Dr. Bliss's eyes grew huge. "Hit you?" she said scribbling again with her pen as Helga cringed. Her pen used up a lot of ink as Arnold told his side of the tale. Then, Arnold folded his hands together again and looked expectantly towards Helga. The girl began to cry.
"I… I…" she mumbled.
"Well?" said Dr. Bliss. "What do you have to say about this?" Helga gushed into tears, then told her about her chase with Harold, ending up with her mistaking Arnold for the provoking boy. Dr. Bliss's pen scribbled on. Like doomsday. It was clear. Arnold now had his ultimate revenge.
"And why did you feel like you had to retaliate?" Dr. Bliss pressed on. "Is this something related to what we talked about? Do you act that way because…" Dr. Bliss trailed off because she could not break confidentiality. But Helga was on her nerves, ready to spill anything.
"Of course it is!" she blurted out. "It's always about my stupid family!"
"Helga," said Dr. Bliss carefully. "I should ask you this in private, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but do you have a role model for violence? Have you ever seen anyone hit someone?" Helga swished her eyes back and forth, uncertain herself if she should answer. At last, she did.
"Yeah, I have. Lots of times. My father."
"Helga," said Dr. Bliss setting down her pen gently. "I think we should schedule you an appointment all your own. But for now, I want to say to you that ultimately it is our own selves who is responsible for our behavior. It is you and only you who can decide whether or not you are going to follow the example of your father or if you are going to chose a healthier, happier path. I think that Arnold's bringing you here today means he wants you to." Helga turned toward Arnold, and was surprised anew when the boy lay a hand on her own. Helga was even more astonished when she looked deep into his eyes. They smoldered with his Dark Arnold. His sensually assertive side.
"Helga," the boy uttered. "I'm willing to forgive if you are. But I'll tell you now, that I don't want to be with someone who will hit me. Or children," he said thinking of Harold. Helga broke down into sobs. She bunched herself onto couch in a small ball. Arnold just watched her cry. There are some moments when even someone you love has to be alone.
"I do want to be forgiven, Arnold!" said Helga gaining some composure at last. "I do want to change!"
"Then that's okay," said Arnold taking her hand. "I'll tell you how it's going to be. We're going to go to dinner and we're going to have a good time. And we're not going to argue."
"But Arnold!" Helga protested, jerking away. She backed into the furthest corner of the couch. Arnold narrowed his eyes at her.
"Don't pretend we haven't been on dates before, Helga," said Arnold. "Think of this as another of those times. You'll be nice and make it up to me that you've been mean. Alright?" Arnold plucked Helga's hand from her knee again and let it rest above his own. Dr. Blithe scribbled in her notebook furiously. There was something about the two of them interacting that profoundly interested her. Helga sniffed.
"Alright," she blubbered, her eyes stained red. Arnold held his arm out for Helga to take. Obediently, she looped her arm in his. Dr. Bliss stood alongside her clients, smiling a knowing smile.
"It's raining outside," she warned them. "Here, take this umbrella! No, really it's fine! You can borrow it! Just bring it back to me sometime. I'm glad you two stopped by! And Arnold…" Dr. Bliss added, her lovely smile turning upwards ever just so, "take good care of Helga!"
"I will," the boy promised more as a gentleman than anything else. But Dr. Bliss closed her office door with a soft sigh.
"Ah, love!" she murmured to herself. "It can heal all wounds!"
Outside in the rain, the earth glittered with a wet. The pavement had not been able to soak the raindrops up, but instead wore them like a second skin, glittering, gleaming until the sun could dry the earth again. A grayness muted the colors of the city like an approaching dusk. But it was a long time till dusk, still. It was early afternoon. Helga lifted her face up and felt it. Like the city streets around her, her face still glistened with drops. As the rain picked up again, Arnold popped the unopened umbrella up over their heads and stood there silent, with one hand in his pocket. Helga lifted her face up to the heavens and watched as two hot rivers of tears streamed down her face again, not with sniffles this time, or wails, but two hot streams of relief like a dam that had always meant to break but never had. Lowering her face, Helga wiped her tears away again.
"Sorry, Arnold," Helga muttered. "I just...I just…"
"It's okay, Helga," he said not making a move towards her. "Cry. Cry all you want to! Your tears are beautiful."
A few more tears sprinkled, then like a gentle rain, faded. A smile crept across Helga's face instead. She tucked her arm into Arnold's.
"Let's go to a steakhouse this time!" she said. "I need meat! My treat, of course!"
"I'll find something I'll like," Arnold promised. "And tomorrow we'll go back to being best friends?"
"Best friends!" Helga promised with a small smile. After all, this was what it was like between the two of them. Loving but always pretending. Neither was ready to call if official.
The next day, Helga sat down on the school bus. She was startled when a blond girl in a blue dress stood up in the seat behind her. With stealth, the girl reached her hand over the bus seat and grasped hold of her bra strap through the T-shirt fabric, then released it suddenly with a cruel snap. Helga leapt up to her feet immediately, her fist swinging upwards out of habit. But she hadn't punched anyone. Not yet. Nor did she have to. Arnold Shortman had moved in the way, standing in the two aisles so that neither of the two girls could catfight if they wanted to. Arnold eyed the offending girl coldly.
"Leave Helga alone, you A-cup! What's the matter with you? Jealous?!"
"Humph!" the girl in the blue dress muttered before gathering her books from the seat and moving three seats back. Arnold sat down in the bus seat next to Helga.
"Wow!" Helga blinking. "I never knew you had that kind of insult in you!"
"You really think I'm perfect all the time?" Arnold said, his eyes flat and serious. "You're not the only one to hit someone before. I have. Remember that time I was learning karate? Well, I beat some kid up at the bus stop. I'm ashamed of that. And I hit Gerald, once."
"Gerald?!" Helga said with real astonishment. "But he's your best friend!"
"I know," said Arnold. "We were young. It was an argument about a toy or something. One minute we were talking about milk and cookies, and the next he was lain out on the grass. I have a temper, too, you know. I just control it better. These days," Arnold trailed off looking off into the aisles. Then his eyes bored deep into Helga's.
"But like I said, I control it a lot better. So I think it's best if I do all the punching for the two of us. At least until you learn to let your anger go." Helga gaped, then smiled.
"Arnold, I! I think you make a real good point," said Helga trailing off. She fell silent and looked out the schoolbus window, enjoying the view outside. But she enjoyed it, too, when her fingers tangled with Arnold's. They held hands between them on the bus seat, neither one of them looking at one another but thinking of each other all the time, a soft smile on their faces. It wasn't official. But it was close. The end.