I received a request for a fanfic featuring a pool party a long time ago from The J.A.M. a.k.a. Numbuh i. This would be it. This story is the second to last in the Olga Story Arc. It ties up loose ends and is full of pure romantic gobbly-gook for the masses. ArnoldxHelga fans have a bit of a treat, but so do fans of HaroldxPatty. It will be multiple chapters, largely because it features so many characters having their own miniature conflicts. Please enjoy.
It was an easy, observable conclusion that Lorenzo was by far the richest kid to attend Public School Number 118. No other child there had his own limo to shuttle him between appointments. No other children had a mansion to go home to either, and in this Lorenzo was both unique and envied- at least by most.
Arnold Shortman was largely comfortable with his own life. So it was that when the introverted Lorenzo called him up on the phone to ask for his help typing up invitations, it wasn't a big deal to meet up with the boy after school to go to his house. It was just another do-gooder mission. Little did Arnold realize that by its finish, this particular social event would leave a lasting impact on his own life.
"Wow, Lorenzo!" said Arnold observing a round bubblegum dispenser as tall as a grandfather clock at Lorenzo's house. "That's really neat! Where did you get that?"
"Oh, that was a present from my grandparents. They sent it to me when I got a cold instead of a get-well basket. That sort of thing. I've been meaning to get rid of it! Would you like a piece?"
"Maybe just one" said Arnold popping out one of the round gumballs from the dispenser, chewing it up, then blowing the chewing gum. The fruit-flavored chewing gum made a satisfying pop and Arnold tucked it against his teeth again. Then Arnold pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and looked at it.
"Okay! Well, I know the addresses of most of the kids in our class already. I wrote down the ones I know. But there are a few I've missed. We can look them up in the phonebook," Arnold rationalized. "Or we can even just hand out the invitations in class. That's kind of the norm."
"Hm. Well, I never really thought of that!" said Lorenzo puckering his face to look particularly thoughtful. "But since I've already got the correct postage to cover all the stationery, we might as well send all the invitations by mail."
"Well, okay," said Arnold a little uncomfortable. "I just think that inviting people in person adds, you know, a little personal touch."
"A personal touch?" said Lorenzo tapping a finger against his chin as he thought. "You make a good point, Arnold! I should talk to the caterers about doing something, like individualized napkins or something." Arnold's eyes widened slightly.
"Well, I don't really get it, but it's your birthday party, Lorenzo. You should do whatever you want. Do you mind my asking what you've got planned so far?" Arnold picked up a single page from a broad pile of notes next to to a drawing easel. On the easel was an ambitious landscape drawing of the party to be. For a children's birthday party, Lorenzo was taking the event ridiculously seriously. He might as well have been doing work for an engineering firm by the looks of his drafting board.
"Well, what I envision so far," said Lorenzo flipping through a series of architectural sketches of his home. "Is a 10:30 garden reception by the pool. Then we'll break for brief luncheon at 11:30, then enjoy cake at about noon, with the traditional candle-blowing ceremony of course! At 12:30 I'll receive presents from my parents and hopefully," said Lorenzo growing wistful now, "some of the other kids will bring me presents, too." Arnold lay a supportive hand against Lorenzo's shoulder and smiled.
"Don't worry! I'm sure the other kids from school won't let you down! They won't be flashy presents like ones your parents can give you, but I'm sure they'll think to bring you something."
"Yeah," said the boy who clearly craved for acceptance among his peers. Arnold picked up one of the few invitations Lorenzo had finished. He read it out loud.
"Hm. You and one guest of your choosing are cordially invited to the Birthday Party of…" Arnold set down the note without finishing the reading of it. He had a question instead.
"So people not just from our class are going to be there?"
"Well, half the people invited will be. But you may ask another friend from elsewhere if you like, Arnold. Is there someone you want to take with you, Arnold?"
"No," said Arnold mildly. "Not especially. All my friends will already be there. Let's finish up these invitations! I still have some math homework to do," said Arnold stuffing an invitation inside an envelope and licking the envelope to close it. Then he repeated the action again.
Shortly, the invitations Arnold and Lorenzo worked on were finished. Inside Lorenzo's house, they were handed off to a butler, then dropped into the home's fancy postbox. These envelopes were picked up by a sputtering white mail truck. Soon, these invitations poured into mailboxes all over Hillwood. Many lips split wide with grins of joy as children like Nadine, Sheena, and Gerald received theirs. The clumsy Eugene even fell over his own feet in excitement when he opened his. Sid and Stinky stared at theirs in blank wonderment, while Curly frowned a thoughtful little grimace.
In no time at all, at least one of the fancy paper envelopes made it into the mailbag of Harvey, Hillwood's favorite postman. Humming, Harvey carried one particular invitation to the home of Harold Berman and dropped it in the mailslot. Humming happily, the postman walked away, his duty complete. The envelope found its way into the hand of Harold's mother as she scooped up the day's mail for its sorting. She gasped with delight and surprise when she spotted the invitation for her son Harold. An overzealous mother, she opened it to read the invitation.
"Harold! My growing boy! This is so exciting!" The woman in a nightgown-like dress trotted over to her son's door and knocked on it with her meaty fist.
"What?" was Harold's declaration as he peered round the door, his blue hat pulled low and his mouth pouting so that his one oversized tooth especially showed. Harold's eyes bulged when he saw the huge envelope in his smiling mother's hand.
"What is it, Ma?" Harold said amending gently. Harold's mother passed the envelope into her boy's hand, then squished him up in a hug immediately.
"Ah, too tight! Too tight, Ma!" squeaked out Harold before his overzealous mother let go to pat him on his ballcap covered head. Harold reexamined the envelope.
"Ah, my dear, sweet, adorable boy!" Mrs. Berman exclaimed. "I am just so glad you are making friends! Another party invitation! I'll have to iron your dress pants for you. Maybe you can invite your friend Patty to go with you!" said Mrs. Berman pinching Harold's chubby cheek. As soon as his mother had let go, Harold tried to rub the ache away.
"Mooooom!" complained Harold. "I am not inviting Patty! That'd be like a date!"
"Aw, my precious boy!" said Mrs. Berman repinching Harold's cheeks and clearly not listening. "You remind me of your father. He was always so handsome. So well dressed for every event. Try to keep your shirt tucked in Harold."
"Mom," said Harold, frowning and scowling. "Aren't you listening? I don't wanna make a big deal out of it! It'd embarrass me in front of the guys!"
"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Berman slapping Harold on the shoulder so that he wobbled on his feet before righting himself. "We'll have to order a corsage for your friend Patty from Vitello's," said Mrs. Berman picking up the phone and dialing up the flower shop. Harold stared in dismay as his mother began to prepare for this party with as much zeal as if it were for his senior prom.
Come dinner time, Harold was so unnerved by the turn of events that he rapped the side of his fork against his plate edge instead of eating his mashed potatoes- at least for a minute. Then the temptation was too strong and Harold shoveled a whole mess of white, fluffy potatoes into his pallet to slurp them down much as one would fruit punch. Harold's father leaned across the table.
"So, son!" His father praised. "My mother tells me that you will be taking a special girl with you to a fancy party! I'm so proud of you, son."
"It's just a stupid birthday party!" Harold grumbled. His eyes bulged as his mother set an enormous wrapped present on the other side of the dinner table.
"Yes, well, I've bought this for you to give to your kind host, Harold," said his mother wearing a dreamy smile. Harold stared at the glittering, silver wrapped paper.
"Hey!" he protested. Harold jabbed his fork in the direction of the wrapped birthday present. "That looks like a better present than I got for my own birthday!"
"Yeah. Um hum. Well, try to make extra good friends with your classmate, Harold," said his mother pinching his cheek painfully again. "There's a time and place for a little brown-nosing!"
"Ah, man!" Harold complained loudly feeling very cross.
Harold's social life was being hijacked by his parents, but it wasn't about to get better anytime soon. The next day, his mother called him up at school's front office to pester him about inviting Patty Smith to the fancy party. As soon as he sat down to lunch, Harold found handwritten notes from his mother stuffed into his brown paper lunch bag.
"What's that, Harold?" asked Patty Smith who was sitting across the table from Harold eating a peanut butter sandwich. Harold tossed the scrap of paper he had been reading away to hide it.
"Oh! Well, it's nothing, Patty!" said Harold quickly. Then the boy grew sentimental and serious. He was giving in. After all, Harold did like Patty Smith after all.
"Patty?" asked Harold so gently and sweet that Patty Smith stopped chewing her sandwich to look up at him blankly. "There's something I'd like to ask you. There's a party, right. A birthday party for one of the kids in my class and well, I'd really like it if you'd come to the birthday party with me."
"Am I allowed to do that?" asked Patty Smith in all seriousness. "It is another kid's birthday party. Doesn't he decide on the guests?"
"Oh, well, he said that I can bring one other person with me. It's Lorenzo's party. It's going to be fancy. With lots of cake I bet. And music. And maybe even a petting zoo. I hope."
"Well, it sounds like it might be fun," said Patty. "Sure, I'll go with you."
"Thanks," said Harold taking a bite out of his sandwich. "I want you to come! Plus my parents might leave me alone now," said Harold feeling sorry for himself. He and Patty resumed their eating before something suddenly occurred to the boy with the blue vest, blue shorts, and blue ball-cap but most especially, the need for dental work.
"Oh, Patty! There's one more thing! There's going to be some swimming at the party, too, so you should bring a swimsuit with you. You know, so you can swim."
"A swimsuit?!" Patty asked. She frowned across the table.
"Do you know how to swim, Patty?" asked Harold. The boy pointed to himself. "I'm good at swimming! Really, really good! My friends and I won a swimming competition once!"
"Er, yeah," Patty answered hesitantly. "I'd like to hear about it, Harold," said Patty politely before Harold began his long and winded boast about himself.
But Patty hardly heard the story that Harold told about himself being a great swimmer. She was too worried about something instead and when Patty Smith clicked on the light to her room when she got home and opened the slotted closet door it became apparent what that thing was. Patty searched her closet until she found a very plain, brown bathing suit many sizes too small. Yes, Patty Smith definitely had a problem.
The natural thing to do was to go over to Budnicks and the boulevard of department stores surrounding it. So Patty took a little clutch purse with a bit of money in it and did exactly that. She strode into a shop selling swimsuits and stomped between the dainty ceramic manikins with their saucy, slender poses. A retail clerk hurried her way.
"Excuse me, madam, can I help you?" asked the clerk.
"Yeah. I'm looking for a swim suit," said the bulky, over-sized girl.
For you?!" the clerk said pointing for a mere moment. He sighed. "Very well, madame. Right this way!"
But one thing was as evident as the moon in the night sky. Patty Smith was not meant for a bikini. Her masculine, athletic bulk looked all wrong in the few bathing suits the store did have to offer in her size and they all were eccentric bathing suits, too! One had red pom poms. One was a bunch of ugly diagonal stripes. The last one was canary yellow with blue shoulders and a skirt to look like leaves of a palm tree. Patty Smith set all the articles she had tried on aside.
"So, Madame!" said the storekeeper. "Have you made a selection?"
"Well," said Patty looking unhappy in a calm and quiet sort of way as opposed to someone like Helga, who complained with lots of drama. "Thanks anyway. But I don't think any of these suits are for me."
"That is apparent," the store clerk rudely muttered as Patty Smith walked out the shop door. The girl's frown was deeper than ever.
At school the next day, Rhonda Lloyd was brushing her hair in front of her locker mirror when a very unexpected figure became reflected in it. Rhonda turned around and gaped in surprise at her visitor.
"Patty!" said the girl who had miraculously formed a friendship with Patty Smith during the time the two girls had gone to a sophisticate academy together. "What a... pleasant surprise! What are you doing here?"
"Hey Rhonda," said Patty with the mild voice she always used except when brawling to prove she was the roughest, toughest girl around. "I've got sort of... a problem. Since you know fashion, I thought you could help me out."
"Fashion?!" Rhonda declared, elated by the mere name of the 'religion' she held most dear to her preteen heart. Rhonda Lloyd placed her fingertips on her chest and blinked in delight. "Why, Patty! Of course you've come to the right place!"