I do NOT own Hey Arnold! or any of the characters in this story (except maybe a couple of the minor ones). ENJOY and PLEASE REVIEW! :)
The neighborhood hadn't changed much from when she had last seen it. A couple of the old shops had shut down and been replaced by new ones, and the roads had gotten a make-over, but everything else looked as it had when she left fifteen years ago. Which meant her journey would soon come to an end. She drove her car down another street and turned onto a smaller, quiet block near the park. The boarding house stood where it always had, looking as it always had, right down to the mismatched shutters. She parked her car along the street and got out. She took a deep breath, the smell of the air bringing childhood memories rushing back to her. She could faintly hear in those memories Harold and the other children jeering and laughing during an old baseball game. She wondered where everyone had ended up. Her family had moved to Michigan the summer before sixth grade, so she had lost touch with just about everyone but Phoebe. Had all of her old classmates moved on with their lives to other parts of the country, or had they stayed close to home? She doubted many of them would even remember her, especially when she had changed so much since then. The first thing Miriam had done when they had reached Ann Arbor was enroll her in the closest junior high as well as anger management classes and therapy. She had complained at first, but after a couple of years, she had to admit to herself she was changing for the better. Gone was the rough, sharp-tongued, sarcastic tomboy. She no longer used meanness as a defense like she used to. However, she refused to become the girly-girl her mother wished her to be. She refused to take Cotillion classes, and tried out for baseball instead of ballet. The only girly-girl activity she allowed herself was her facials and manicures that she treated herself to once a month. The result was a slightly less sarcastic baseball player with sparkling nails and no unibrow. Helga took one more deep breath and opened her trunk to retrieve her suitcase. Wouldn't you know her boss wanted her to move out here to Hillwood "for the present time" as they tried to branch out the company to smaller parts of the state to draw more business. As one of the newer operational consultants, the delegation to be sent to the smallest part of the state fell on her. The fact that the smallest part of the state happened to be her childhood home was a surprising coincidence.
Helga made her way up the walk, suitcase in-tow. They'd had to sell the house when they moved. Big Bob's beeper business had bloomed unexpectedly and he had had to move out to Michigan to keep his promotion. It wasn't too traumatic for Helga. There wasn't much she missed here, besides a few people. Until she could find her own cheap apartment, however, she would stay in the boarding house, if there was room enough for her. She refused to bunk with that crazy European dude with the weird accent. She reached the door and rang the bell. A small, stooped woman with frizzy grey hair answered the door.
"It's amazing she's still walking around," Helga thought, "she's got to be close to 100." Out loud she said, "Hi! I was wondering if you have any rooms available to rent for a short time. Maybe a month or two." The woman looked her up and down intently before replying, "you're that girl from the neighborhood that used to torment Arnie when he was little. You've all grown up." She turned and walked into the hallway and around a corner. The door was left open, and Helga, assuming that she meant for her to follow, walked through and down the hallway. She found the woman sitting in an easy chair by a fireplace. In a chair next to her sat an old gentleman, also nearing triple-digits, who was reading a paper. He looked up as she walked in the room and stood in the doorway.
Can I help you, miss?" he asked kindly.
"Yes, please. I was wanting to rent a room, if any are available," she replied.
"How long do you need to stay?"
"Only a couple of months. Is that possible?"
The elderly gentleman folded his paper and stood up gently. He smiled. "Of course it is possible. Follow me." He began to walk to an old desk in the corner of the room. When he reached it, he began fiddling with a drawer and shuffling around papers. After a few moments he held a small stack out to Helga, who took them and a pen from his hands. "Just fill these out and sign on the dotted line. First month's rent is due with the papers, and after that, on the tenth of every month. You'll be in the second door on the right up the stairs. There's a bedroom and a bathroom. We all share the kitchen and the sitting area down here, I hope you don't mind. If you need anything, just ask." He proceeded back to his chair and his paper while Helga sat down at the desk. She began to fill out the information sheets and questionnaires. After what felt like an hour she signed on the dotted line and handed the papers, and the first month's rent in cash, back to Arnold's grandfather. After smiling and repeating the directions to her room, she walked out of the room and towed her suitcase up the stairs.
Opening the door, she surveyed her new home. A double bed in the corner, a large window on the wall facing the empty lot beside the house. A small bathroom with a shower-tub combo, toilet, and sink all smashed together in the tiny space. There was a dusty mirror hanging on the wall of the bathroom, and a picture frame containing a faded print of a sunset over the ocean hung over the bed. A small lamp sat on a bedside table, and a wardrobe stood against the far wall.
"It needs a little work, but I guess it'll do," she thought. She threw her suitcase on the bed and began to unpack. Setting her toiletries in the bathroom, her books on the small shelf on the wall, she unpacked the little clothing she had brought with her. Looking around the room, she decided that her first activity of the day would be shopping. This room needed help, as did her wardrobe. She found she actually enjoyed shopping, once she had given it a chance. Usually, every time Miriam dragged her to the mall, she griped and complained until they left with the same type of outfit Helga had always worn, only a size larger as she grew. It wasn't until Olga had come to visit and talked Helga into a relaxing spa trip and shopping that she realized she enjoyed trying on the different outfits. Puberty helped, when she finally stopped looking like a 9 year-old boy instead of a 13 year-old girl, she learned to like trying on more form-flattering clothes and skin-flattering colors. At the spa they taught her new ways to wear her hair instead of the pigtails and bows that she had always worn. As of late, her hair reached the middle of her back, parted over the side, with a few choppy layers cut through the natural waves. She still, however, allowed herself to wear the occasional bow.
Helga spent the afternoon shopping around town at some of the old stores and some of the new. By the end of the day, the room, and her wardrobe, had transformed. There were now pink curtains hanging on the window to match the pink comforter and sheet set she had bought for the bed. A new picture of a flowery garden hung over the bed, with a poster of the Detroit Tigers hanging on the wall opposite of her bed. She had dusted the entire room and polished the mirror and cleaned the entire bathroom. There was now a pink mat in the bathroom with matching towels beside the sink, and a lime green rug laying across the floor in the middle of the bedroom. About the time she had finished cleaning and re-decorating, there was a knock on the door. Helga opened it to see Arnold's grandmother standing in the doorway.
"Dinner's ready in the kitchen if you want to come down," she stated. She glanced past Helga and into the room. "I like the new curtains." On that note she turned and walked away. Slightly unsure, Helga followed her down into the kitchen, where a small group had gathered around a table. She vaguely recognized a couple of the faces, such as the short construction worker, and the older Vietnamese man, what was his name? Mr. Wind? Something like that. There were a couple of people she was sure she had never seen before, a young man and a middle-aged woman, but she figured she would be introduced to sometime or other.
Sometime came sooner than expected. As she approached the table, Arnold's grandmother stopped her and asked suddenly, "who are you, again?"
"Um, Helga Pataki, ma'am," Helga replied. Without another word, the woman began spooning out soup for everyone. Slightly confused, Helga sat in the empty seat ahead of her. The elderly man turned to Helga, "Don't mind Pookie. She gets a little nuttier every day. You can call her Grandma Gertie, and you can call me Grandpa Phil. This is Mr. Hyunh, Ernie Potts, Mrs. Ambroso, and Charlie Danforth. You'll get to know us all the more you're here. Arnie's still at work, not expecting him home any time soon." Helga choked a little on her soup. Clearing her throat, she replied, "Arnold still lives here?"
"Yeah, he moved back here after college. He's some big-time lawyer up in the next town over. He's got a big case coming up soon, so he's been working late all week. Won't be expecting him back here until ten or later. I'm sure he'll want to catch up with you. You went to school with him didn't you?"
"I used to, back at P.S. 118. I moved just before junior high. I doubt he even remembers me," Helga replied, a slight tone of regret in her voice.
"Nonsense," Grandpa Phil replied, "I'm sure he remembers you. Pataki? Yeah, I remember him saying that name a lot. I'm sure he remembers you."
Helga's heart skipped a beat. Fifteen years had not been long enough to get over her crush on Arnold. She had dated through high school and college, but there was still a chunk of her heart that remained a 9 year-old girl, in love with a football-head. Of course, even if he remembered her, the only memories he had of her was of her old, nasty, taunting, sarcastic self. He probably wanted nothing to do with her, even if she had changed, which she had. Maybe fifteen years apart was enough to erase the bad memories enough that she could start anew, with better memories. She would find out soon enough.
Sipping on her peas and carrots soup, she remained quiet, preferring to listen to the various conversations between the familiar boarders. Grandpa Phil and Ernie had gotten caught up arguing over the consequences of tearing down the old park in favor of a strip mall. Mr. Hyunh and Mrs. Ambroso were comparing stories about their children and grandchildren. Grandma Gertie was babbling away to no one in particular about jungle cats prowling the kitchen. Feeling eyes on her, Helga looked over at Charlie, whom had been staring at her. As soon as she looked at him, he began talking. He asked her about various aspects of her life: Where was she from, why she moved, where she went to college, where she worked—the questions were endless. She could hear an echo of her old self in the back of her mind exclaiming, "Crimeny, Bucko! What's with the third degree?" But, as she had learned to quiet that voice a long time ago, she maintained an air of polite interest as she answered his questions and he answered questions about himself that she hadn't asked.
As dinner wound down, Grandma Gertie had stood up and began clearing the table with help from Mrs. Ambroso. Charlie, Mr. Hyunh, and Ernie left the table as Grandpa Phil turned to Helga and asked, "what did you say you do?"
"I'm an operations consultant for the law firm Rutherford and Sims," Helga answered. "I do a lot of management and training for prospective lawyers and aides, as well as finding ways for the company to run smoothly and efficiently. My job is basically to make sure the company runs without a problem."
Grandpa Phil nodded in response. He called into the kitchen, "Pookie, do you remember the name of the company Arnold works for? I can't remember."
"Kimba is a warrior for the sun gods of justice!" Grandma Gertie replied. "He defeats evil with pen and paper and sets out to pull the world out of darkness!"
Grandpa Phil shook his head, "of course Pookie. Go back to the dishes." He turned back to Helga, "I can't remember the name of the law firm he works for. You'll have to ask him tomorrow if you see him."
The thought of seeing Arnold after all of these years left a strange feeling in the pit of Helga's stomach. Fear mixed with unrequited love mixed with more fear and a little bit of excitement. She left the table and headed back to her room. Maybe a hot shower would help her clear her head before bed. Tomorrow was her first day at the new office, so she had to look her best, which meant going to bed earlier than normal. If she saw Arnold tomorrow, she would try and let things play themselves out.
"Just be cool," she told herself. "He probably doesn't even remember the mean-spirited pigtail girl from elementary school. Don't get your hopes up."