The Patakis

Episode 1: "Olga's secret"

XoXoXo

This is it, I thought to myself as I sat down at the dinner table. This is the time I will actually send one of the sappy letters I write to football head every day, I said inwardly. I clicked my signature purple pen, ready to begin.

Dear Arnold,

What's up, Bucko? I've missed you like crazy ever since you left for San Lorenzo. Things in Hillwood have changed a lot. Harold's lost weight and is dating Rhonda, Sid grew facial hair, and Eugene moved to California. Lila and I are friends now. Well sort of. She just follows me around and gives me random advice I usually don't take. Phoebe and Gerald are dating now, but I'm sure you've heard that one. And most shocking of all, Nadine has traded her obsession for bugs for an obsession with boys. Criminy. Now that I think about it, too much has happened for me to even write in one letter. Maybe I could explain it all over telephone. Call me, okay, hair boy?

Love,

Helga

I sealed the letter in a bright orange envelope, and sigh. I held it close to my chest for a moment, as if I was afraid it would flutter away. Olga, my nit wit older sister, pulled up a chair and sat next to me.

"What's that, baby sister?"

Quickly, I tucked the letter inside of my favorite pink shirt. "None of your business, dork."

Clueless Olga laughed, thinking that sweet and loving Helga, her darling baby sister was joking. Only she wasn't.

"It's okay Helga. I've got a secret of my own!" Olga sang out.

Oh, Brother. I finished my last bites of egg and started on my toast. Whatever secret Olga had was probably shallow and dumb. I could've pictured her cheerfully saying "Baby sister, I've found the door to Narnia!" What a sap.

"And what would that be what?" I said, mouth full of toast.

She giggled. "I can't tell you."

I rolled my eyes. "Why?"

"Because otherwise it wouldn't be a secret."

Olga must've seen the expression on my face, because she cleared her act up really quick. She laughed, with a hint of nervousness in her tone. She sat up straighter, and pushed a strand of blonde hair from out of her face.

"Well, I'll be telling everyone tonight at dinner."

And Ms. Mary Sunshine skipped off, forgetting some of her oh-so-very important papers on the table. She was too far away by the time I noticed she left it. Being the good soul I am, I decided to read it. You know, just to make sure it was appropriate for someone with such high standards.

"Scene two, act three?" I said, in disbelief.

I flipped through the packet. It wasn't her usual boring applications, or letters from lover boys. It was a script. As I was two-thirds of the way through, three tickets fell out of the script. I read the title.

"Cats the Musical?" I read, stumped.

Somehow, I thought this had something to do with Olga's secret.

XoXoXo

Olga gathered us all around the piano and beamed. Since Big Bob and Miriam were hogging the coach, I had to pull up a chair. It used to irritate me that I never got to be included on the coach, but I got over that long ago. Sometimes it's better not to be a big part of things. It makes sneaking around much easier when people aren't breathing down your neck.

"Mommy, Daddy," Olga said, "I have a special surprise for you."

Gracefully, she sat down on the piano. She placed her skinny fingers on the piano, and smiled.

"Well lay it on us, kiddo!" Big Bob cheered.

I sighed and glanced at my watch. I could've been watching my favorite action flick but no I had to watch Mary Poppins play her stupid piano that she plays every single day. Olga cleared her throat and begin to sing while she played.

"Daylight! See the dew on the sunflower! And a rose that is fading..."

Blah, Blah, Blah. I felt like Olga went out of her way to rub in everyone's face just how angelic and perfect she is. "Oh, look at ! She's so pretty talented and smart! Why don't we build her a giant award made from smaller awards!" Sure, her voice was perfect, but after you hear Olga's voice so many times it loses its...luster. But every stinking time she sang for my parents they acted like they were drowning and her voice was air. I turned my head to the side and saw my mom tearing up. Pathetic.

"...memory! All alone in the moonlight! I can smile at the old days!"

I knew this song. It was from this one lame musical Olga forced me to attend in the 6th grade; a musical about cats...wait a minute! Olga was going to be in Cats. What a lame secret! I half-expected a lovechild that she had never told us about.

"If you touch me you'll understand what happiness is. Look! A new day has begun."

Big Bob stood up, and clapped. Miriam was glowing with pride. And me? I scowled. I saw no need to show any sign of awe or gooey affection.

"Wow, Olga! That voice of yours is really something!"

"Thank you, Daddy." She sat back down, looking confident.

"Yeah, Olga. You... really are... a star."

Princess Annoying batted her mascara-coated eyelashes and giggled. "Well mom, do you recognize that piece?"

"Um..."

My mother looked puzzled. That's what happens when your brain cells die from alcohol abuse.

"It's from Cats, Miriam," I interupted, tired.

Olga squealed like a little mouse from joy. "Yes, baby sister! You remember going to Cats with me years ago!"

Still bored, I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Olga."

She stood up, blissful. "Well, Mommy and Daddy, I am going to star as Grizzabella in the Spring Production of Cats!"

"Olga, that's wonderful!" Miriam gushed

"You'll steal the show!" Bob chuckled.

Yeah right, I thought. I remember Grizzabella as being a depressing, yet wise character. The exact opposite of Olga. I'm more like Grizzabella, even though I'm younger. She's more like that dumb other cat who sings the song with Grizzabella, what's-her-name, who is naive and almost as irritating as Olga.

"Thank you. But this isn't the only play I'll be doing."

"You'll be doing another play?" Bob asked.

Olga gave Big Bob a skitish laugh. "Yes, I'll be doing a lot of plays. Mommy, daddy, I've decided to give up on my dreams of becoming a teacher."

"Why?" Bob demanded.

"Yeah...honey...you'd be a perfect person...for the, um, job."

She clapped her hands together. "I was getting to that," she said, "I'm giving up on my dreams of being a teacher so that I can chase after my new dreams of being a broadway actress.

"A what?" Big Bob shouted.

"Olga Pataki, broadway actress!" She made a rainbow with her hands.

Dead silence. I didn't see either Bob or Miriam blink for a full minute. Olga waited patiently.

"Olga, you're the smartest dang kid I've ever met. Why would you want to waste your talents being something as brainless as an actress?

A nuclear bomb was dropped in the family room. Olga's lip began to shake.

"You could...be a concert pianist instead," Miriam suggested.

"But mommy, this is what I want to do! Oh can't you see me preforming all sorts of plays, from Hamlet to Peter Pan? This is what I was born to do!"

I could see the rage bubbling in Big Bob's eyes. He dug his meaty fingers into the armrests of the couch. His jaw was clenched so tight, I thought it might snap. Secretly, I wished for a jumbo bag of buttered popcorn. Not so perfect now, eh ? He threw his hands in the air.

"You mean we wasted all that money for college just to have you screw it all up to bat your lashes and giggle for a living?"

"But daddy..."

Miriam snapped her fingers. "I know! You could be an...uh reporter. They have lines too."

"If I wanted you to get a job based on looks, I would've drove you down to the strip club! I'm sure one of those lovely ladies wouldn't mind giving you some pointers!"

At that, I burst into laughter. Being Helga G. Pataki, the invisible child, I was able to get away with that scott-fee. Ah, this is better than cable.

"But daddy!"

"You could even ask them for makeup tips!"

"Um, honey, you never answered my question," Miriam said.

"Seriously Olga, get your head out of the clouds."

"But daddy-"

"I can't believe-"

"DADDY!" Olga screamed, at the top of her lungs.

Big Bob was silent.

"I thought that you would support me, like you always did," Olga sniffled, mascara running down her cheeks, "but I was wrong."

She dashed upstairs to her room, and slammed the door. The sound of her sobs were still audible from downstairs. How utterly awesome.

"I don't care if her feelings are hurt. I am not having an actress for a daughter."

And after that was said, I could think was two words. How perfect.

XoXoXo

"...and after Olga ran up stairs to cry her eyes out, Big Bob broke a whole vase!" I exclaimed, telling the entire story to Phoebe and I guess Lila, too, because she was following me around again in the highschool hallways

"Oh, I feel everso sorry for Olga. I certainly wish there was something I could do."

"Whatever. She doesn't deserve pity," I snorted.

"Wow Helga, I'm happy for you!" Phoebe commented.

"Why? It has nothing to do with me."

Phoebe froze in her tracks. "Well aren't your parents paying more attention to you?"

Hahaha, No. "No."

"Well, I certainly think that this is a wonderful opportunity to get the attention you want everso much from your parents," Lila chimmed in.

Huh, maybe that pretty head of hers isn't just filled with air. "That's actually a good idea, Rapunzel."

"Rapunzel?" She cocked her head to the side in confusion.

"It's your new nickname. You know, since your braids are down to your waist now."

The look I received was hysterical.

I shrugged. "Hey, if you want to hang with me you get a nickname. Right Phoebs?"

"Right."

"Well, girls, I have to get to 4th period on time. Bye!" I said, running toward the classroom.

For the first time in years, I couldn't wait to go home.

XoXoXo

When I walked through the door, I saw Big Bob sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand. I cleared my throat. With Olga out of the way, I had a great shot of being the golden child for five minutes.

"Uh, Dad?" I said, the word dad tasting funny in my mouth.

"Yeah, Olga?"

Drat. "It's Helga, dad."

"Oh. Yeah. Forgot. What do you want?"

I paused, choosing my words very carefully. "Well, dad, you know I love baseball, right?"

"You're not asking for anything are you? Because you know how I feel about asking." He raised his furry eyebrow.

"I just wanted to let you know that I made varisty baseball this year."

For a split second, Big Bob looks impressed. I felt a long over-due sense of pride. But soon his look is destroyed by a critical one.

"How'd you make varsity? You only started baseball this year."

"Um, no. Dad, I've played baseball since the 1st grade."

"Are you any good?"

"I'm team captain," I boasted.

"Oh. Wow. Well isn't that something." Big Bob went back to his pointless golf show.

"Would you like to go to my game this weekend?" I pushed.

"Eh, no. Not this weekend. I'm helping Olga with her car trouble."

Slowly but surely, a cruel thought came to my mind. I calculated my evil plan inside my head, and imagined lightning and thunder in the background as I spoke my next sentence.

"Oh," I said, pausing for effect,"I guess Olga has to be to her Cats rehearsal on time. You know, to play Grizzabella."

I paused again, to inwardly snicker at Big Bob's expression.

"Memory! All alone in the moonlight!" I sang in my best high-pitched Olga voice.

Big Bob pondered this for a moment, and smirked.

"You know Olga-"

"Helga."

"Whatever. Maybe I can make it to your game after all," he considered.

This was the begining of the end for the Olga empire.

XoXoXo

It was past midnight. I was walking to the mailbox, with my letter to Arnold in hand. I stood in front of the mailbox, warring with myself like I do every single day. My hand glided toward the slit for the mail, shaking.

"Do it you coward!" I hissed to myself. "Do it or forever hold you peace!"

This is how it is every day. I seriously doubt I'll ever send him letter first. My silly pride gets in the way every time I think about sending a letter. Arnold and I have a history. We were together in 5th grade, until he moved to San Lorenzo and I got pissed off and broke up with him. Then, in the 6th grade I came crawling back like a baby. In the 7th grade, he told me our long distance relationship wasn't working, so we broke up again. He lost his resolve in the summer of the 8th grade, though, when he visited. Last year, we "mutually" agreed that we were better off as friends (and by "mutually" I mean he suggested the idea doing one of our worst fights and I went along with it because of my ego). That worked until the start of this year, when he mentioned something about a girl from San Lorenzo, and pissed me off. I haven't talked to him since.

"But if I send it, he'll think I'm desperate," I mumbled, "He's probably head over heels with that other girl, Paula."

I folded the letter and slid it back in my pocket.

Someday, but not today.

Legal Crap: I don't own the characters or ideas of Hey Arnold!. Or Cats the musical.