This one is going to be multiple parts. Here's a start, anyway.
Today was shaping up to be one of Arnold's finest Saturdays. When he woke up, there was a brand-new unopened box of Arnold's favorite cereal waiting for him downstairs. Arnold's favorite shows were premiering new episodes. Better yet, when Arnold came back from a long, relaxing stroll with Abner on his leash, Arnold caught sight of one of his Grandpa's fishing poles poking out the closet that Grandpa had coined his, "fishing room." Arnold unhooked Abner from his leash. Then he raised his voice.
"Grandpa?" Arnold spoke out loud to the hidden person at the other end of the fishing pole. Grandpa Phil jumped a bit.
"Ohh! It's you, Arnold!" said Phil. "Great, Shortman! You can carry the bait box! Heh, heh!"
"Grandpa," Arnold admonished lightly, but he took the bait box all the same. "Weren't you supposed to fix the dryer today?"
"I was," Phil answered, slightly shifty. "I started to, Arnold, but I just can't! It's my eyes!" Arnold startled a bit and his once smiling face fell with concern.
"What's wrong with your eyes, Grandpa?" Arnold asked with especial thoughtfulness.
"Nothin'!" declared Grandpa Phil. "They just can't see myself coming to work, so I'm going fishing instead..."
"Right," Arnold said, his relief at his Grandfather's continuing good health overpowering his annoyance at his Grandpa's wordplay. "Do you mind if I come along, too?"
"Of course you can come!" said Grandpa Phil. "Like I said, who else'll hold the bait box for me? You can get on the phone and call up your friend Gerald, too!" Grandpa Phil suggested. "We'll make it a man's day out!" Phil ruffled Arnold's hair on top of his head and all seemed right with the world.
Now in Arnold's estimation, one of the finer things about Hillwood was its water access. During fine summer weather like this, they might have driven down to the beach, but for an afternoon's pleasure, the lake where Arnold and Gerald had caught Big Caesar was more than plenty. Soon Grandpa Phil, Grandpa, and Gerald were seated in a rented rowboat with three fishing poles, a well-worn bait box, and a cooler full of ice-chilled Yahoo sodas. Life indeed was good.
The fish were biting well enough, but after some time out in the sun on the open water, they steered their little ship closer to the water's edge and the big, huge hulking trees that hung out over the water, casting a little bit of shade. Arnold reached down into the cooler and pulled out two fresh Yahoo sodas. He popped open the top to one, then offered it to Gerald.
"Thirsty?" he asked his friend. But Gerald was preoccupied, recasting his fishing line out into the water.
"Nah, maybe later man!" said Gerald. "I thought I saw the shadow of a little ol' fish over there!" With a shrug, Arnold took to downing the open Yahoo soda himself while Grandpa and Gerald continued their fishing.
"Ah, man!" Gerald cursed, standing up in the boat so that Arnold teetered uneasily in his seat for a minute. But happily, the boat did not tip over. "I think I got my line snagged on a root or something!"
"Let me see!" Arnold said abandoning his soda to tug on the line sideways. With Gerald and Arnold both tugging, jiggling the fishing line side to side, it broke loose. The fishing hook came skidding through the water as they reeled it, but it was a hairsbreadth heavier than before. The sight of something oval flashed at the surface of the water, and for a moment, Arnold might have mistooken that something for a fish. But then, whatever had hooked onto Gerald's line didn't fight at all. Sure enough, when Gerald finished reeling his line in moments later, it wasn't a fish on the end of Gerald's hook. It was jewelry.
"What's this?" Gerald declared taking a thick brass circle on a strand of copper beads off the end of his fishing line. The brass circle had what looked liked a stylized macaw on it. Since the necklace looked pretty good, Gerald hung the medallion around his neck. Laying against Gerald's red sports jersey, the medallion resembled a rapper's necklace. Gerald did a few silent swings of his arms as he pretended to rap.
"Well, it's not a fish!" Gerald complained. "But it's better than the stuff ya'll get out of the vending machine! I think I'll hang onto it for a while!" Smiling happily, the three rowed back to shore.
Gerald and Arnold thought nothing especial of Gerald's find. Instead, they happily walked up the a flight of steps into Arnold's back door leading into the kitchen while Grandpa finished up parking the car in the garage. With instropective happiness, each boy was silent as they relived the pleasures of the day until they hung up their fishing poles back in Grandpa's fishing room. Then Arnold directed his attention in the direction of the kitchen.
"Do you want to eat dinner with us?" asked Arnold for he heard the kitchen sink running already. But as usual, Gerald was looking a little nervous at the prospect.
"Is your grandma cooking?"
"Yeah," Arnold admitted softly. "But it can't be all that bad! Since we've got fish, Grandma might make us some seafood stew."
"Arnold," said the Gerald with patient but tried explaination. "The last time your Grandma made seafood stew I found a real fish head in it! Now that's not the kind of 'see-food' I like! I'll see you round, man!" He and Arnold did their friendship thumbshake before Gerald let himself out the door to the hallyway. The boardinghouse was a lot quieter now, so with the comforting thought that there were loads of other people to hang around with, Arnold walked into the kitchen to find his Grandma.
"Hi, Grandma!" said Arnold. He set a small plastic tub with their cleaned fish on the tabletop. "We brought you some fish for dinner!" Grandma popped open the tub and peered inside.
"Why thank you, Arnold! Why there was a recipe for fish gelaton basted in olive sauce I wanted to try!"
"You know what, Grandma?" asked Arnold suddenly desperate. He didn't like the sound of the new recipe already. "How about I set up the grill out back? It's perfect weather for a barbecue!"
"Good idea, Arnold!" said Grandma Pookie. Arnold walked out the back door to the slightly overgrown grass yard of the boarding house that ran all the way beneath the interstate. At times the whole area was shaded by the big, blocky ediface overhead, but at a late hour such as this, the afternoon's sun was sliding sideways under the interstate to hit the yard with its full glow. Arnold hummed and looked for some small sticks to use as kindling. He knew his Grandpa loved barbecues, too, but since it had been a long day already, the boy was extra eager to put all the hard work of setting up onto himself. It did his heart good to see his grandparents resting at the kitchen table through the window. The elderly pair both did so much for Arnold, that sometimes, he loved to do things for them. Grandpa Phil came out and Arnold beamed his widest smile. Soon, Grandpa Phil was flipping the fish over with a spatula and Arnold was holding out a platter to catch the cooked fish on in eager expectation.
The rest of Saturday passed quickly by, as did Sunday. Then it was Monday and the return to school was imminent. Arnold woke up and stamped down into his shoes and extra time and made sure the tongue was pulled up all the way. It might have been his imagination, but his black shoes were feeling a little snug. There was no wiggle room in the toe anymore.
Pacing his way methodicaly toward the bustop with one book under his arm, Arnold waited for the schoolbus. Like clockwork, it rolled right up to the Boarding House on Vine Street, then rolled away again in a hurry as soon as Arnold had dropped into one of the green seats, flexing for the impact of sudden speed he knew would come. The bus driver could be a little tense at times.
Kids were bouncing and laughing at the rear of the bus. Two girls were playing cat's cradel with a bit of cotton twine. When Helga boarded, she walked up to Helga to Phoebe to show her best friend her old skipping rope, which was having problems. Helga had tied a knot next to the handle several times, but once the handle and rope broke loose once, there was no hope for it. The balance was off just a bit, now, due to the added knots. Plus, the swinging motion always worked the handle off again within minutes, sending it flinging to the sidewalk and making the crack along the handle's side wider.
"So, what's the diagnosis, Doc?" Helga quipped as Phoebe studied the skipping rope, lifting the glasses for a moment. Phoebe took the skip rope into her hand.
"Well, we could try glue! But maybe it's time for a new one! After all, the rope seems to be a little…"
"Short," Helga ended for her poking the old rope like it was a dying snake instead of a perpetually inaminate object. "Plus it's a bit frayed!" She held the jump jump between her hands and regarded it, feeling both aloof from it like a baby's blanket and sentimetal towards it like it was an old friend.
"Indeed," Phoebe concurred. She kicked her delicate heels out into the air a few times before she and Helga fell deep into conversation.
The bus rolled off to school and Gerald and Arnold both met up in the hallway by their lockers before class began. Sheena, Stinky, and Rhonda approached. Arnold was mildly surprised when Gerald hung the brass medallion he had found on the fishing outing around his neck.
"Hey Rhonda, babe!" Gerald asked their grade's fashion critique. "What do you y'all think of this? Very Retro?" Rhonda squinted at the medallion.
"Hm. The workmanship's not THAT bad," Rhonda sniffed. "But I don't get it! Why would anyone want to wear a picture of parrrot around Hillwood? I would go for a more abstract art design if I were you!" was Rhonda's declaration. "Or find something sporty to go along with your 'athletic' theme."
"Well, the fashion doctor has spoken!" said Gerald preparing to remove the medallion from around his neck. But Sheena gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
"Where did you get that?!" the tall brown-headed girl with a very soft voice asked. She held her hand aloft as if hoping for Gerald to place the medallion into it. But on a reflex, Gerald kept the necklace aroud his neck, both hands now on its beads to keep it safe.
"Do you recognize it?" asked Gerald.
"Well, yeah, sorta!" said Sheena. "Um, I'll tell you about it! Only not here!" the girl said scooting her eyes around in the hall. "Um, meet me at the school cafeteria at lunchtime, okay?"
"Well, alright!" Gerald agreed after a moment's hesitation. "Just so long as it doesn't keep me too late! My girl, Phoebe's expecting me!" Gerald finished his sentence, his eyes looking particularly suave.
Gerald and Arnold began to walk down the hallway. But their encounter with Rhonda and Sheena wasn't to be the only one. A very odd girl who wasn't even in their class, but rather the one across the hall from them, stopped still and stared open-jawed at Gerald as he approached. "Gosh and begora! By the lochness monster, where did you get that?!" asked Campfire Lass with even more interest than Sheena had shown in it.
"Oh, just a little somthin' I picked up around town!" said Gerald now feeling thoroughly awkward. He scooted away from Campfire Lass as soon as possible. After all, that girl had one count against Gerald already.
"Well, Arnold," said Gerald finally removing the medallion. "This necklace is attracting too much attention in the wrong way!"
"Yeah, I guess you're right!" said Arnold. Once the necklace was in Gerald's pocket, the two boys promptly forgot all about it.
But Sheena hadn't apparently. She kept watching Gerald at his desk throughout class. When the lunchbell rang, she waited by the door for Gerald.
"You go on ahead!" Gerald promised the tall, lanky girl with the flower shirt. "I'll meet you in the lunchroom and we'll talk! I've just got to drop by my locker first!" said the boy with impossibly tall hair.
"Whew!" said Gerald approaching his locker as Arnold waited nearby. "Do the ladies love me or what?"
"I'm not so sure that's what this is about," said Arnold.
"What the?!" cursed Gerald. The door to his locker already cracked open. Nothing was removed. It was just open.
"Maybe you didn't shut it all the way!" speculated Arnold.
"Yeah, maybe," Gerald muttered. Arnold and Gerald moved further down the hallway. The halls were erriely silent since all the other kids had fled to lunch. Abruptly, the two boys were surrounded by four Campfire Lasses. Their leader, The Camfire Lass stomped up to the bronze-brown skinned boy in her saddleshoes.
"ALL RIGHT!" Campfire Lass rolled out, her tongue lingering on the fake Scootish accent for five whole seconds. "We know you've got it, laddies! We can't have the two of ye trying to hunt down the Ruby Parrot! Now hand over the medallion! Before we have to get rough!" said Campfire Lass holding up a fist in the direction of Gerald's nose while the rest of the Campfire Lasses all looked mean. Gerald held up his hands in surrender. But just then, their in-shool mugging was interrupted by the most unlikely of persons. It was Sheena.
"Run!" said Sheena bowling over the menacing Campfire Lass. She caught up Gerald and tugged him along with her. Arnold fled with them simply because it was smart to. He didn't want to find out what the Campfire Lasses wanted with them. Shortly, they were hiding by the tetherball court where Mr. Simmons was watching the mostly empty playground.
"Do you mind telling me what all that is about?" demanded Gerald.
"Well," said Sheena. "My Uncle Earl can tell the story better than I can! But it all begins in the 1900's, at the old children's campground of Snee-ka-pong-oosh!"
"Snee-ka-pong-oosh?" asked Gerald squinting. "Isn't that the place just outside the city they send all the kid's clubs to?"
"That's right!" said Sheena. "Your necklace is the key to a secret camp ritual! It begins fifty years ago!" Sheena began her strange tale of a long-standing children's feud of Hillwood.