It's Big Bob's Beepers, he's the king, Big Bob's Beepers, ching-ching-ching, Big Bob's Beepers!
Helga awoke from her slumber. Every day. Every freakin' day, that horrible jingle acted as her alarm clock. Her wake-up call to the nightmare that she was constantly living.
She pushed the blankets and dirty clothes she used as warmth off the thinly-insulated sleeping bag she considered a mattress, stretched, and walked out the utility closet – aka her bedroom.
This was her new home. Her old home, the quaint little townhouse that she grew up in for the first ten years of her life, had been repossessed, not too long after it was revealed that beepers were no longer raking in the dough that they used to. Now Helga and her family were evicted, and forced to grasp at some semblance of normalcy to avoid being vagrants; so it was business as usual and they ironically moved into the one place that was financially sucking them dry.
How Helga wished she could evict herself from her circumstances.
"Olga!" Big Bob bellowed from the other side of the Beeper Emporium.
Helga grumbled to herself as she walked over to where her father was sitting, on the ground, surrounded by boxes of unsold merchandise. "It's Helga, DAD. Always has been. Always will."
Big Bob waved off her tirade. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, I'm gonna need you to move some of these beepers today. I need that box to patch up some broken drywall. So why don't you stand in front of the mall for a few hours and see if you get any bites?"
"Why don't you stand in front of heavy traffic?" muttered Helga under her breath.
"What was that?!" Big Bob barked.
"In case you've forgotten, DAD, I have this little thing I have to go to for the next decade or so. It's called SCHOOL?"
"Hey, hey, hey! Don't talk back, lil' lady. Actually, that might work out even better. Try pawning them off to your little friends at school. Kids are into the retro thing nowadays, right? They think it's hip."
Helga rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, have you seen my backpack? I've got to get going soon."
"Huh? O-oh yeah –here, I'd been using it as a pillow," Big Bob leaned behind one of the boxes and pulled out Helga's backpack. He tossed it over to his daughter and she nearly dropped to the floor by its sheer weight.
"CRIMINY! This thing weighs a metric ton! What did you put in here?!"
"I stuffed it full of beepers, and saved you extra work. Now get on out there and if you want to eat dinner tonight you'll sell that stock!"
Helga dragged the bag behind her. "Thanks, BOB," she spat venomously.
As she walked towards the exit, Helga spotted her mother, Miriam, sitting behind a small table with a coffee machine beside her. Her eyes were closed, and a mug with liquid hung out of her hand. Helga took the mug and raised it to her lips…but then sniffed the contents, and sighed in disgust as her poured it on the ground. She took the coffee pot with her and drank from it instead.
Helga shed most of the beepers on her walk to school and was able to put the backpack on her shoulders by the time she ran into her best friend, Phoebe.
"Good morning, Helga," Phoebe chirped, much too cheerily for the start of the day. "Ready for another glorious day of academic discovery?"
"Pfft – is that what they're calling it nowadays?" Helga took a long sip from the coffee pot, now lukewarm.
Phoebe's eyes followed the trail of discarded electronics left in Helga's wake. She frowned. "Another day of entrepreneurial endeavor gone awry?"
"It's gone A.W.O.L., S.N.A.F.U. and every other acronym under the sun," said Helga. "And if Big Bob thinks I'm going to waste another afternoon touting his wares he's got another thing coming."
"Have you suggested to your father that perhaps he should consider selling a more advanced item at his store? Smartphones? Tablets?"
"Please – Big Bob is as stubborn as a mule. The only way you're getting him to sell something without an LED screen is if we're finally kicked out on the street and someone with more sense takes over."
Phoebe stopped walking and looked at her friend earnestly. "You know, Helga, you're welcome to sleepover at my place any time your situation becomes unbearable. My parents don't mind, and—"
"Hey look – it's Football-head and your Tall-Hair Loverboy!" interjected Helga. Whether she intended to cut Phoebe off or she wasn't listening, she picked up the pace to meet the boys at the corner of the block.
Arnold waved at the girls as they approached. "Good morning, Phoebe," he looked at Helga, and smiled. "Good morning, Helga."
"Morning, ladies," Gerald said, winking at Phoebe.
"Good morning, Arnold…Gerald," as Phoebe said Gerald's name she blushed and giggled.
"Hey, Gerald. Hey Arnold," said Helga, the least enthusiastic of the bunch.
The group began walking together towards school, with Phoebe and Gerald in the front, and Arnold and Helga following closely behind. As Phoebe regaled Gerald with a story about something that had happened the previous night, Arnold surreptitiously attempted to link hands with Helga. Helga immediately brushed him away.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
"Come on, Helga," pleaded Arnold. "We go through this every morning."
"Then you should know the game by now!" she shot back.
"Just let me hold your hand," Arnold insisted. "Just this once."
He gave Helga a sad, puppy-dog-eyed look to cajole her. Helga sighed and rolled her eyes, but when Arnold went for her hand a second time, she didn't pull away. Helga tensed as soon as he made contact. Arnold gauged her reaction but still smiled warmly. After a few seconds, it looked as though Helga would finally let her guard down, when…
"HEY ARNOLD!"
The sound of two voices calling out in harmony sang out behind them. Helga gritted her teeth. Of course, she thought sullenly, and ripped her hand from Arnold's grasp.
A man and a woman approached the group excitedly. The man looked like a younger, blonder version of Arnold's Grandpa, and the woman was a pretty brunette with a familiar-looking football-shaped head. Both adults were wearing white linen clothes and had dramatic, grey streaks across their hair.
"There you are!" the man said. "We've been looking all over for you!"
"We still want to hear about all your amazing adventures from growing up in the city!" added the woman.
Arnold smiled and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Gosh, I'd love to tell you more…but it's a weekday again. I have to go to school, remember?"
The man snapped his fingers. "School! Darn it, I knew there was something I forgot about!"
"Arnold, I don't think we've been properly introduced to your friends," said Stella, crouching down to get eye level with the children.
Arnold blinked. "I haven't?"
"I'm Stella, and this is my husband, Miles," said the woman, gesturing to her husband. "We're Arnold's parents."
"Uh…well, this is Helga. And this is Gerald and Phoebe."
Gerald and Phoebe sheepishly waved to the two adults. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Shortman," they both said.
As Stella asked Arnold a question, Gerald leaned in close to Phoebe. "They've already introduced themselves to us twice," he whispered.
"Must be short-term memory loss," reasoned Phoebe. "It's impossible for us to know all the side-effects of waking from a ten-year comatose state induced by sleeping sickness. Arnold's parents truly are unique specimens in modern science."
"Yeah, well, it's still really weird," whispered Gerald.
"I concur," whispered Phoebe. "But Arnold seems to be taking it in stride."
"Hey, whatcha got there?" asked Miles, eyeing the coffee pot of cold liquid in Helga's hand.
"You shouldn't be drinking coffee for breakfast," chastised Stella. "It stunts your growth."
"Actually—" Phoebe started to say, but was cut off by stern looks from Arnold and Gerald. "Never mind."
"Here, why don't you have this papaya-mango-and-guava energy that I made for us?' Stella pulled a bottle of think orange liquid seemingly out of nowhere. "Nutrition is so important, especially during breakfast, the most important meal of the day. I'm sure your folks would agree."
"You should try some," said Arnold. "It's really good."
"And good for you!" Stella and Miles said simultaneously.
Helga looked at the shake, then to Arnold's parents, then to her friends. Flustered, she shook her head and turned around. "I-I have to go."
"Wait – where are you going?" Arnold called out.
"I left something at home. Don't wait up, OK?" she yelled as she ran as fast as her feet would carry her in the opposite direction.