*********I just had to write this and get this out of my system. It's just that I was listening to the Dixie Chicks and Veterans Day came, and I know I'm a week late, but that's how long it took me to finish it. Please enjoy and review if you want. Oh! And listen to the song "Travelin' Soldier" by the Dixie Chicks. I know its country, but it's so raw and real that I'm sure a lot of people will love. I start to tear up every time I listen to it. Before I go on, I just want to say Thank you to all persons involved in the military. I'm a proud daughter of an army man and I love him so much. So here it is-
Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold or this song, Travelin' Soldier, by the Dixie Chicks.
Enjoy please and I had just edited this, fixed my mistakes ^_^ **********
October 9th, 1972
The bell chimed in Slausen's and in walked a tall young man, just turned eighteen and in green camouflage. A somber look graced his facial features since he was considered alone in this world that he lives in. Legally an adult now, the young man had to enroll himself into the army in order to support himself, since his grandparents had passed a few months before, two weeks between each passing, and after staying with the other boarders. He was always considered a hero in this town, among adults, fellow teens, and the young children who looked up to him, but he always felt he wasn't good enough. Losing the people who raised him since he was in diapers, never knowing his birth parents, and always feeling as though he was different than the kids he grew up with; the new soldier felt the need to become a hero, a leader, and a person who would always do the right thing. Fighting in the current war seemed fitting since being in high school for his senior year would just seem like a waste in his current situation. This 'trying to be optimistic' again man is trying to find some way to shine some light into his lonely life.
The café was moderately busy, a couple of afternoon bar stragglers from across the street coming in to get a cup of coffee or men dressed in ironed suits looking through papers in their briefcases, searching for loopholes in the upcoming deal. Hillwood was full of different people, different ambitions or lack thereof, and the soldier wasn't blind to this. He didn't believe in drinking his life away or working it away either, he guessed he didn't know what to believe anymore; life was void of anything at the moment. He made his way to a booth in the back; red fabric lined the seat and sunk in. Becoming comfortable, he grabbed the menu and stared at it intently, not really reading a thing it said.
More than a few minutes passed by is when he heard someone clearing their throat, although hearing this, he didn't bother looking up. "Uh, excuse me, but are you ready to order?" His eyes widened slightly, recognizing the voice immediately and his menu fell from his hands. Looking up, all he saw was bright blue staring back, with a pink hue glowing above a blonde haired girl.
He was trying to take it all in, since he hasn't seen or spoke to anyone, not even his best friend, for months. Memories of grade school, junior high and their three years together during high school were flashing through his mind, as was the beautiful blonde haired, blue-eyed girl. "…Helga?" he asked softly, faint disbelief showing in his features. For a moment, all he saw was pink, the big bow resting on her head, wrapped around her long ponytail, was hard to miss. It brightened her features considerably and gave her a since of warmth.
Helga was a bit shocked as well; she hasn't seen his green eyes for a long while. She missed him, she missed seeing him every day and hearing his words of wisdom, even though she would play pranks on him and other things. They were close of course, having grown up together since diapers, but her mean demeanor always limited her chances of getting closer to him, and then his grandparents died and everything changed so suddenly in not only his world, but hers as well. The last time they seen each other was late at night, months ago. The following night of his grandpa's death, she climbed up the fire escape, opened his window, and went down the ladder to his bed where he was curled up; sobbing at the realization he is the only one of his bloodline left; besides his eccentric country cousin Arnie and his family. Helga sat beside him, put an arm around his shoulders and cried with him. She was a wreck when Gertie had passed, Helga loved her and her ways, and when Phil was gone, she knew she had to be there for Arnold; not matter how much it would hurt. She had left the following early morning, giving a last hug and a sad smile. They haven't seen, nor heard, of each other since, mainly because she started her senior year and he didn't.
Looking at the young man before her had Helga confused, and a bit frightened. He was coming off shy and desolate, dressed in his BDU's with a forest green hat in place of his blue baseball cap. His blonde hair was cut low and his football shaped head was more prominent; the green orbs she fell in love with the first day of preschool had turned darker with sadness and loss. Nothing at all like the boy she had the pleasure of growing up with and watching him shine. Her heart broke just looking at him. Helga tried to give a smile, "Hey, Arnold," she took a deep breath, calming herself. "I've missed seeing you and your football head."
Despite himself, Arnold smiled at her. "Yeah, and I've missed your jokes, Pinkie." They both laughed softly, and he was glad she wasn't giving him the look of utter sadness and awkwardness whenever he walks the streets of Hillwood. Helga always had her ways of making him smile whenever he was at his darkest point.
Helga rolled her eyes at the nickname, "So what can I get you, Arnoldo?" She looked him over again, frowning slightly at the army green uniform, and noting to herself to ask him about it later. She positioned her hand over the little flip notebook, purple pen in hand.
Arnold smiled shyly, welcoming the childhood nicknames from their past. "I'll just have a cup of coffee." Helga gave him an incredulous look, which Arnold mirrored. "What?"
Helga raised a side of her eyebrow, "Don't you think you're a little too young to be ordering coffee?" Arnold just sat there in the sinking booth seat; she chuckled then sighed, "Just because you're not in high school it doesn't mean you have to start getting addicted to a morning cup. I'll get you a cheeseburger and a yahoo soda." With that, she turned around to go give the order to the cook, leaving a confused and conflicted Arnold at the table.
He was picking at the straw and checking his watch, it was three o'clock and the bus to his deployment comes and leaves at seven. Arnold sighed; he didn't know what to expect and he didn't know if he was leaving for the right reasons. Deep down, he was scared out of his mind, but then again, he felt as if he didn't care what happens. Arnold knows the boarders at the Sunset Arms care, but if he stayed he didn't know how he would manage to face them inside of that house with so many memories. It was too late to change his mind anyways; he already enlisted himself to go.
Arnold's jumbled thoughts were cut when Helga came up to his table and sat down his cheeseburger with fries; a ketchup smiley face was drawn on top of the golden strips. "Here you go anything else I can do for you?" she asked. Helga bit her lip, from where she was working when his order was cooking; he looked so distant and scared.
The new soldier sighed, "Actually Helga, would you mind sitting down for a while and talking to me?" He looked into her eyes, he found a bit of comfort in them. "I'm feeling a little low right now."
Helga's eyes stared to turn misty so he bit her lip; she hated seeing him like this. She smiled a small smile, "I get off in an hour and I know where we can go." Arnold nodded, took a swig of his yahoo soda and ate his cheeseburger quietly, musing over his conflicting thoughts. Helga went to go take other tables orders, her mind somewhere else. She had a feeling something terrible is going to happen, either sooner or later.
An hour passed and her replacement for the night shift showed, so Helga went to the bathroom to remove her apron and smoothed out the required long skirt and button up blouse for the job. She took her hair out of its ponytail and let it down. Soft, wavy blonde hair cascaded down her back and she put the bow back on top of her head. She gripped the sink and stared at herself in the clean mirror. "Okay, Helga ole girl," she whispered to herself. "You can do this. You have to be here for Arnold. No matter what he tells you, just be there for him… and ask why the Hell he's dressed like a freakin' soldier!" Helga nodded her head, knowing she's putting herself into her shell of denial, but not caring at the moment.
Arnold was at the register, paying for his meal, when Helga walked up to him. He admired her appearance, he always thought she was a beautiful girl even she technically was his bully since they were young until towards the beginning of high school. Arnold always knew she was smart, funny, witty, amazing… everything. He likes that about her, adores actually. "Are you ready to show me where you're taking me?" he asked, offering his arm.
Helga blushed softly, hooking her arm with his, "Yeah, we've been there before, and we managed to hold a conversation there, so why not try it again?" Arnold nodded, agreeing with her, walking down the sidewalk to the pier. He glanced at his watch, it was four fifteen now; Arnold shivered slightly. Helga noticed and tightened her hold on him. "Are you cold, Arnold?" He shook his head. She didn't like the fact that he was so silent, since he wanted to talk. Egg guessed she had to initiate it. "So tell me, Football Head, just what are you doing in that uniform? And why?"
He flinched slightly; not knowing how to start his explanation without it sounding likes he was crazy or something. Arnold sighed, "I enlisted myself the day of my birthday two days ago," he bit his lip when he heard her gasp quietly. "I didn't know what to do, two days before my birthday was the anniversary of my parents leaving me and with those unresolved feelings, and along with Grandpa and Grandma dying, I…" Arnold stopped talking, his throat tightening.
She unhooked her arm from his and gave him a hug, whispering comforting words into his ear. "Arnold, I'm here for you." He nodded again, returning the hug, his fingers knotting in her golden hair. A few minutes like that, they returned to walking to the pier, Helga's hand in his. He asked about their friends, how school was, about her family. Arnold tried to keep the conversation on Helga, but he could tell she had her own inquiries. They sat on the edge of the pier, holding hands and looking out into the sun starting to set. It was nearing five forty five and Arnold feel the weight of his heart and his watch sinking in on him. Helga was smirking slightly about his attempt at a joke involving the beautiful October view. She started to frown a bit, decided it was now or never to bite the bullet. "You're leaving, aren't you?" she asked, sounding more like a statement.
Arnold sighed, nodding his head slowly. "Yeah, the bus will be taking me to California for training at seven, then after a few weeks of that, I'm supposed to be heading to Vietnam." Helga took a breath in to steady herself, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Arnold wished he could stay like that forever, just stay with Helga and her blue eyes and pink bow. He wrapped his arm around her, tightened his hand around hers, and rested his hand on top of her blonde waves. "Helga?" he whispered.
"Hmm?" she murmured back, trying to keep hold of the emotions inside. She wanted to cry, to yell, to scream at him, but then she wanted to kiss him, to beg him not to go or to leave her.
Clearing his throat he said, "You know, I bet you have a boyfriend, but I don't care." Helga looked at him, confused. He went on, "I got no one to send a letter to, so would you mind if I send one back here to you?" Arnold looked out into the dirty blue water, waiting for her answer. He didn't know why he was nervous, but then again, it was Helga.
She stared at him, getting lost in his touch and his green eyes. She took her free hand and caressed his cheek, making him look into her blue teary eyes. They held contact for five seconds until they leaned forward and kissed. Helga was crying, silently berating herself for waiting so long, and Arnold doing the same to him. He leaned back and Helga rested her head on his chest, they were gazing at the sky above, wondering where this will take them. Arnold played with her hair and her silky pink bow and Helga tried to soak in every bit of this moment and his scent as long as she could. Despite everything, they were smiling softly, whispering stories of their past adventures and children and young teens. Taking her father's automobile for a joyride around town with Gerald and Phoebe was one of them, but that was of a simpler time.
It was nearing six thirty when they decided to go, reluctantly leaving their haven of bliss. Arnold lead the way to Slausen's parking lot where the bus is loading up the new recruits to the train station; from there is his journey to California. When they arrived, about forty other uniform clad men were boarding, heading to the start of their military careers. Helga was clutching onto Arnold's hand, not wanting to let go. Everything was happening so fast, too fast, and she was begging the fates to slow down time. She had picked up an abandoned napkin from the ground and wrote her address on it with her purple ink pen; opening one of his pockets, she gently tucked it in there, patting the spot softly. "I'm going to miss you Arnold, I want you to know something before you leave though." Helga looked into his big green, grassy eyes, and smiled sadly, angry at herself for waiting this long. Arnold held her gaze, curious and wanting to kiss her because that look of adoration makes him feel so proud and happy, like he could and would do anything to keep that look on her face.
Arnold tightened his grip on her hands, like a lifeline, a deep connection with sparks starting to light. He was never this close to Helga, besides the school play kiss and the surprise kiss in school yard when they were young. Helga always confused him; a true enigma. "Anything," he replied, Arnold really didn't want to board the bus now, since he finally realized how beautiful, loving, and caring this girl, named his tormentor at a young age, is.
Helga stared into his eyes seconds longer, getting lost in them. She stood on her toes a bit, feet in heels because of work, easily catching his lips to kiss hers. Her kiss to him was fast, strong, and full of need; needing him to stay, needing him to understand her feelings right now and from since they were young. She put everything into that kiss, communicating everything she can to Arnold and he felt it all. When it ended, Arnold took her into his arms quickly, holding her close. She whispered into his chest, "I've always loved you, you know. Through everything we've been through since we were young, you were always there and I love you for that. I'm never gonna hold the hand of another guy." Helga started crying silent tears, realization of her beloved being deployed into a violent war hitting her emotions hard. "Please come back." Arnold held her closer while Helga spoke with more fervor. "Arnold, you promise me you won't they to be brave. If you ever get into any trouble, you promise me you'll run and just come back to me." Helga's voice was getting scratchy, tears falling rapidly. Arnold was just agreeing with her, promising.
Arnold heard the drivers call for him to get on and a young man dressed in an identical uniform tapped on his shoulder. Different, erratic, feelings were tightening his throat and his heart. He lifted her chin and looked into her crystal ocean blue eyes, searching them and finding nothing but adoration and love; he kissed her again softly. "I promise. I'll write you, I'll try to every night." Arnold smiled and chuckled. "I knew you weren't bad at all, Helga. I'm going to come back home, and you know what else? This feels like love, Helga." He kissed her forehead, squeezed her hand, and walked to bus. He checked to make sure his duffel bag was underneath, went to the entrance steps, and waved to the beautiful young blonde.
Helga waved back to the football headed young man dressed in his army greens, and whispered as he got on and found a seat in the back, "Our love will never end, I'll be waiting until you come back again." She sat down on the curb, wringing her hands and trying not to sob until the grayish green bus pulled away. Arnold chose a window that is facing her and he was trying to pull off a semi confident smile. Helga smoothed out her long skirt and adjusting her bow, wiping away the few stray tears running down her cheek, giving a little closed mouthed smile to him. The engine sputtered and Helga felt her chest tightened, her face froze in place. She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers softly in a good bye, Arnold mirrored it as the driver pulled out of the parking lot; a cloud of dust was left as she watched it turn right, and then leaving the street of her sight. Her body felt cold, like part of herself was lost. The sob she was holding in left her throat.
Sitting on the nearby bench was an aging couple with their quiet daughter a year younger than Helga; their son was the man who tapped on Arnold's shoulder and who he sat by on the bus. The wife had been through this with her husband, and now her son was being deployed, and she couldn't help but feel her heart hurt looking at the young girl crying on the curb. "Archard," she said to her husband. "Looking at her just breaks my heart." The man named Archard nodded soberly and stood up, his wife clenched his arm, and he led his wife, Helena, to the teen girl. The man cleared his throat gruffly; his gaze was met by a sparkling blue eyed girl, tears falling rapidly. "Hello, we couldn't help but notice… um… you here."
Helga studied them, they seemed like nice people, but she was always wary of strangers. She recognized the girl hiding behind them as Isabella; recognizing her from the gym class they share. The mousy junior girl who doesn't fit in much was trying, and failing, to not have eye contact with Helga. Her voice was timid and hoarse as she spoke to them, "…Hello." It sounded like a question. She cleared it, wincing slightly at the scratchy effect and blushing faintly of the embarrassment of being looked over by strangers.
His wife decided to take initiative, "Hello, darling, my name is Helena Smith. This is my husband Johnny and my daughter Isabella." Helga waved awkwardly at them. "We couldn't help but take notice when we watched our son, Lucas, leave for camp, that you were saying goodbye to your boyfriend there, and we wanted to make sure you were alright." Helga just stared at them, wide eyed. Confused a bit on the whole boyfriend, girlfriend comment; 'I guess we are…' thought Helga. The wife shifted uncomfortably under her piercing gaze. "Well, I know how these things don't feel alright, I guess. Do you want a ride, honey?"
Helga found her voice, and she stood up wiping her eyes, "No, thank you," she said. "I'll be fine. I just have to walk up the road." Helga stood there awkwardly, her feet getting blisters in her work heels.
Helena wasn't going to let her go that easily, especially in the state of distraught the young girl appears in. "No, I insist. We live up the road too." The wife gave Helga a smile, and somehow Helga felt comforted. "It's no problem for us, and it's getting pretty dark. Where are your parents, sweetie?"
Helga sighed, "Um, dads at work and mom's… somewhere doing something." She thought it over. Walking home when it's dark and most likely muggers lurking about, or taking a short ride from his family who just dropped off their son and brother to go to war. "Okay, I'll come."
Isabella and her father led the way to the run down Volkswagen while Helena and Helga walked behind. Helga looked at the caring wife, studying her. She was petite, long locks of light brown hair cascading down her hair, and with bright hazel eyes. Helena had this motherly charm radiating off of her, and Helga found comfort in that. They all piled in, the teen girls in the small back seat, the parents in the front. When they were pulling out, Helena asked Helga how long she and that young man were dating. "Oh, um, well we've known each other since we were in diapers. We've practically grew up together." Helga didn't feel like letting someone she barely knew intrude on her personal life, no matter how motherly.
Helena smiled, "Oh, that's nice," she said. "So, how old are you two?"
Isabella kicked the seat in front of her, scolding her mother for being noisy. The young mousy girl spoke to Helga for the first time ever, "Sorry. My mom can be a bit of a busy body at times." She gave Helga an apologetic smile.
The blonde shrugged, "No problem," she spoke up. "Arnold had just turned eighteen, two days ago, and I'll be eighteen in March." Helga's house was coming up so she told Mr. Smith. When he pulled in front, every one sat still for a bit.
"It's just that," Helena stressed. "You're too young to be going through this, maybe too young for him." The motherly woman turned to look Helga in the eye, "You're too young to be waiting for the love a traveling soldier." All was quiet in the car; the engine was the only sound.
Helga looked down from the penetrating gaze and spoke softly, "Thank you for the ride. I'll see you around Isabella." With that she opened to door and ran inside her house to her room. Helga went to the corner of her room, sat down with her knees to her chest, and cried, calling for Arnold, the young soldier her heart yearns for.
Months went by and the letters came from Arnold. He told her of his time during Basic Training in California, of the various different types of men fighting: ranges of age, height, weight, and personality. Arnold told Helga of his dreams, of his fears, stories of his late grandparents, asking her about home and school, and, of course, telling Helga of his heart and how it feels like love. Helga wrote back always, tried to comfort him through her poetic words when Arnold said he and his battalion are ready to be sent to Vietnam; the fear was evident in his letter. 'I miss you' and 'I love you' were exchanged in every one.
Helga had gotten close to Isabella, as the months of Arnold's absence went on. She learned Isabella was in the marching band, playing the piccolo, and likes to read. Isabella has been raised in the military lifestyle and had to endure her father's deployment twice before her brothers first. Isabella aspires to be a nurse, but also dreaming to be a famous musician as much as Helga wishes to be a famous writer. Helga's old friends never paid much mind to Helga, after Arnold disappeared. Most don't know he was drafted, or rather drafted himself, into the war; this had made Helga more disappointed rather than mad. She still had Isabella, and Phoebe at times, but she just has one thing on her mind at all times: Arnold.
The date is now the middle of February, 1973, and Helga was rushing home to check her mail with Isabella running by her side. It was chilly out and Helga's scarf getting loose from her running, her blonde hair shining in the ending winter sun. "I hope it's in the mail already," she panted, turning the corner to run down the street of her home. "I waited this whole week, and nothing. I'm getting worried, Bells." This worried thought made Helga run faster.
"Slow down, Helga!" said Isabella, falling behind. "I'm not as fast as you are! The letter will still be there when we reach the darn box." She kept trying to keep up with Helga, who decided to slow down just a bit.
Helga sighed, "You don't know my dad."
Big Bob Pataki was a large man, owner of Big Bob's Appliances, and a proud man. He was fond of his successful daughter, Olga, and lived off of her success. What he wasn't too fond of was the fact that his youngest daughter, Helga, was keeping in contact with an orphan soldier. He just didn't like the repercussions that might happen if his daughter stayed in love with a soldier during this war. He cared for Helga, he loved her because that's what a father does, but he doesn't know how to show to his youngest daughter who is the total opposite of his oldest. So whenever he tries to state his mind about this Private Shortman's letters to Helga, she ignores him or accuses him of being insensitive or not wanting her to be happy. Big Bob just lets it be now.
She opened the mail box, grabbing the stack with both hands, and sorting through it with Isabella trying to catch her breath by her side. Isabella grinned when she heard Helga gasp and thrust all the left over junk mail back into the box, grabbing Isabella's wrist and running upstairs. Heading up the stoop, and through the front door, she was stopped by her father's booming voice coming in from the trophy room. Helga sighed, "What, dad?"
Big Bob clicked the brown TV box off and sat deeper in his chair. "What do you have there?"
Helga walked into the room with Isabella behind her, their faces mirrored in Olga's various trophies. "It's just a letter." Helga waited for the onslaught of his upcoming lecture.
"Is it from that Arnold boy, with the football head?" Helga nodded slowly, her eyes averted. "Well, let's hear what this boy has to say." Big Bob gave his daughter his full attention, something Helga isn't used to. "Well, go on." he motioned for the two girls to sit in the adjacent sofa, where unbeknownst to all three of them, Miriam was passed out behind.
A silent Isabella and an annoyed Helga both sat down; Helga let a gust of air. "Fine, I'll read it. Just to prove to you that Arnold is a great person." She began to read:
"Dear Helga,
First off, let me start by saying, 'Happy late Valentine's Day. I love and miss you.' (Big Bob rolled his eyes) I wish I was with you right now, back in Slausen's, looking into your big blue eyes. They sparkle, you know, when you smile. Every time I close my eyes I see your pretty smile by the ocean. I think about that day by the pier whenever it starts getting rough, and it comforts me to know you're safe. I do get scared, all the time, and it's not the adventurous type like when we used to explore Hillwood as kids, it's the type of scared whenever my grandma passed, or the realization I'll never get to see my parents again, or maybe never see you again. I'm sorry if I'm worrying you, or making you cry, but I just want you to know how I feel. I know this is love though, because every letter I had received from you makes me smile more. Thank you for that, and for your picture, it's in my pocket everywhere I go.
Lucas and I have been stuck with each other since California, can you believe it? Two guys from little Hillwood, Washington are fighting together in a war miles from home; crazy, isn't it? We've lost a lot of friends, and it has been tough, but we keep moving on with our group. What keeps me going is the memory of you. It's so green here, Helga, it's so alien than what I, you, and Lucas, are used to. It's so green and rainy, buggy like nothing else, but then again, it can be so hot here.
I can't wait to see you, and Lucas can't wait to see his family and meet you, I tell him all about you. I could write for pages, but this paper isn't leaving me with much room, so I'll have to end this letter. Tell Isabella Lucas says 'Hi, baby sister,' and tell your heart that I miss you. I have to let you know, don't worry about me, but I won't be able to write for a while. We're heading out into new territory. Stay beautiful.
-Love, Private Arnold."
Helga was shaking, not just her hands, but her whole body and her throat was tightening, which meant a sob is threatening to come out. Isabella, the mousy girl, wasn't moving at all either. Every letter Helga had received from Arnold always brought a smile to her face, knowing in a few days another would appear. This time though, she doesn't know when the next one will be. She stared at the clumsy scrawl on the browning sheet of paper, willing the words to change, more so willing Arnold to be sitting next to her.
Big Bob Pataki sighed, a large amount of air leaving his lungs. "What I tell you, girl?" Helga looked up into her father's graying blue eyes that were once as bright as hers. "You're just way too young to be having to deal with this. Waiting for the love of some soldier out fighting in this war and now he's gonna have to stop writing to you. You're going to be turning eighteen next month and you need to have bigger dreams than waiting around on some man." he told Helga, adding a sense of finality of it.
Helga stared into his eyes, her eyebrows bunching together in anger. "Like what, Bob? Working for you at the Appliance store?" she spat out, her words spoken with incredulity. Anger shot through her when he nodded like it was obvious. "I'll have you know, dad, that I do have dreams. I'm not going to be lying around the house like Miriam. I'm going to have a real job that involves a high paying salary. I am going to a writer, or a journalist, or maybe doing something in politics! I love Arnold, like you don't even know, Bob. I can do anything I want, even if that is waiting for a traveling soldier." Helga stood up, anger at her father stopping the tears. "Let's go upstairs, Bells."
"Excuse me, Mr. Pataki." Isabella whispered faintly, moving past him and scurrying up to follow Helga to her room.
When he heard the door slam and Helga's feet stomping on the floor above him, Bob grabbed the nearest throw pillow and roared into it. He felt anger at the situation, pride for his daughter's ambitions, and sadness at what his daughter has to go through. When he let it all out he said lowly, "Criminy. If that boy comes back, I'm going to shake his hand first, maybe a pat on the back, then I'm going to give him a piece of my damn mind."
The weeks had passed by, and just like what Arnold had stated in his last letter, nothing came in the mail. Helga was worried sick, not being able to concentrate on much of anything, but she tried her hardest in school; trying to find tidbits of distraction from her constant fretting. Ignoring her father and Isabella's parent's thoughts about Helga constant devotion to a soldier in war. She wasn't giving up; she just knew Arnold was coming home. He had to.
At this moment, Helga is sitting in her AP Literature class with Isabella and Phoebe, listening to the current lecture about William Faulkner. This is the only time of day Helga feels more relaxed, more at peace with herself. She likes being surrounded by old works of writing, analyzing and writing her thoughts about them, and Mrs. Stein just makes everything flow like a calm river in the class.
"So this is obviously why we are going to be reading 'A Rose for Em-" Mrs. Stein was cut off by the principal over the intercom. He sounded urgent, telling all teachers to turn their televisions to the CBS station immediately since it involves the whole country. Mrs. Stein fretted a bit, since her class time is almost over, but she pressed power and changed it to the opening channel. The class was whispering, wondering what the big deal was. Mrs. Stein told everyone to hush as it changed from being on commercial to a women and a man behind a desk talking amongst each other.
The man spoke first, "Hello again, and if you weren't tuned before our break, it's time for you to know that our soldiers are coming back home. Yes, that's right, they being sent from Vietnam and back to the U. S. of A. and we can't be any more prouder, and happier, at this time. Next week Thursday, March 29th, is the expected last date until all of our loved ones come back, so be ready."
The woman with red lip stick on her teeth smiled widely, "You bet we all will be, John. Ladies with loved ones, yes this is finally happening. It's Friday, March 23rd, so get that sharpie out and start marking the days. In other news, a gallon of gas has gone up to 40 cents, and John, I think that's ridiculous!" Before the man named John could comment, Mrs. Stein had turned off the television, jumping for joy; her husband was deployed at this moment.
She was heading to the phone, going to call her mother. "Class is dismissed early, leave me alone here." she said as she began dialing.
Helga and Isabella were still sitting where they were, Phoebe leaving to go find Gerald's class. Helga didn't know what to feel, everything was happening so fast. Then, like a burst of energy, Helga started smiling, giggling, jumping around in her seat and she looked over and Isabella was doing the same thing. "They're coming home!" they chanted, laughing at the pure joy they were feeling.
They got up, grabbed their books, and headed out to walk to Helga's house to do homework. "I can't believe it!" said Isabella. "This is so exciting! I don't know whether to start crying from relief because this dang war is over! Helga, I'm going to be so jittery until Lucas comes back!"
She giggled at her friend, her emotions on high, "Oh, Bells. I know what you mean. It's so crazy!"
They hugged before they walked out the doors, to start their walk home.
Isabella was smiling, "Are you still coming to the game tonight?" she asked.
"Of course!" said Helga. "Only to support you though, and the weather is supposed to be okay. It's just some kind of scrimmage, right?"
The mousy girl nodded, rolling her brown eyes. "Yeah, it's pretty dumb. But the seniors on the football team just wanted to rematch Lakewood, because they lost to them at state. So their making this big production of it and the band has to be there in our uniforms and everything."
Helga scoffed, "I bet Harold initiated it. He was so butt hurt because they lost, but I tell you, Lakewood is so good. They have all of the big, buff, and fast guys on their team and they work for what they want. Our guys, they just expect it." Helga shook her head, letting it drop. She didn't want to get worked up because of Harold. She is going to get to see Arnold soon.
That night, Helga was sitting in the bleachers with a blanket, hot chocolate, and her high school sweater on. She was sitting next to the band, watching them set up for the game, and chatting with Isabella. Isabella was ready to go with her instrument, looking uncomfortable in her band uniform and her shoes. "I'm getting a bad feeling, Helga…" Isabella spoke softly to her. Helga took a sip of her Hot Chocolate and asked how come? "I'm just getting the feeling that something wrong is about to happen. Like… I don't know. Something bad." Isabella sat down on the metal bench next to Helga, sharing the blanket with her.
"Well I don't know what could happen tonight, unless you're predicting our team losing or Harold tripping in the water bucket. But then again, those things are kind of predictable." Helga chuckled, nudging Isabella's side. "Seriously, Bells, it's just going to be a regular Friday night, and by next Friday we'll have Arnold and Lucas with us."
That made Isabella smile, "Yeah, and we can go out to the movies or something for your birthday."
Helga grinned, glad her friend is feeling better and that it's becoming more realistic that her beloved is coming home. "Got that right, Bucko." They both laughed and continued laughing as the man on the intercom introduced the two rival football teams.
"Welcome everyone and thank you for coming tonight." the announcers from the box above the metal bleachers said, loud and clear from the speakers around the field. "Would you all stand up for the Lord's Prayer and then remain standing for the National Anthem sang by our very own Lila Sawyer." Isabella and Helga rolled their eyes.
Isabella stood up quickly, "Hey, I'm gonna run to the bathroom while I still can, they don't really need me for the anthem any way." Helga nodded as she also stood up and watched her close friend run to the girl's restroom across the way at the field house.
"Please bow your heads." The announcer cleared his throat, "Our father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is thy kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen." The crowd sitting in the bleachers, and the two football teams out on the field, cheered and remained standing. Helga clapped halfheartedly, thinking of other things, like seeing Arnold in his uniform coming back home with Isabella's brothers, Lucas.
Helga sighed and turned her body to face the long red haired girl standing beside the flag. Lila and her were not much of friends; she just tolerated her and didn't ever really like her because Lila is just too… perfect. Call it being petty, but Helga just doesn't care, and neither does Isabella. Lila gave a faint and dainty clearing of her throat and began singing, in an arguably plain voice in Helga's opinion. When that was done everyone had sat down, back into their blankets and holding their warm drinks or snacks. All the attendees were ready for the game to start, but the announcer spoke again, sounding a bit more somber than his last announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I have just received a list full of local military soldiers that are pronounced as dead at the beginning of this week. It is common that we say their names in honor of them at every home game in order to remember them and celebrate them for the good they have done for us. So please, folks, would you bow your heads for a list of local Vietnam dead." Helga's insides and body went cold; tightening her muscles and praying to whoever was up there that Arnold's name will not be called. "William Allen, Hunter Bramlett, Brendan Carson, Edwin Messer, Kevin Michaels, Evan Richardson, Lucas Smith, Tyler Taylor, and John Weatherton. Please keep these families in prayer and deep in your hearts. Thank God our country's involvement in this war is over." The announcer coughed and tried to get the excitement about the game back up and most of the crowd followed his lead.
Helga's breath had shallowed. There was relief inside of her, immense relief, but then the realization of one of the names in the list sent her running down steps with her blanket, spilling her hot chocolate, searching for her friend. She ran into the bathrooms and the cheering of the crowd was ringing in her ears, bits of fear and tears were storming her face. The restrooms had no sign of her excepts for teenage girls putting on their make up or adding volume in their hair, so Helga went to the concession stand to continue her search, but she came up empty. She decided to circle back and she walked back to their spot but then she saw her. Sitting underneath the band section alone, the instruments booming through the air, was quiet Isabella in her uncomfortable marching uniform sobbing loudly with the music. No one was paying attention to her; nobody had really cared enough to notice, except for Helga.
Helga slowly walked through the metal, stepping over the metal holding up the bleachers, not wanting to scare her friend. Isabella noticed the pink bow tied around the ponytail in Helga's hair, and started to wipe her eyes and nose, shivering, but looking into Helga's blue eyes, she started sobbing again. Helga sat down on the ground next to the distraught girl, wrapped her blanket around her, and cried with her. Not until halftime, Helga walked Isabella home, staying silent and listening to stories of when her and her brother were children, playing in the back yards of the many houses they had lived in until dinner time. Staying up late and exploring the attic and basements of those houses and describing the treasure they'd find, or rather the things Lucas had hid and let Isabella find under dirty mats and worn boxes. They were both teary eyed, as Helga walked her to the gray stoop, and they both hugged each other tightly. Helga gave a half a smile and her friend tried to give it back, but couldn't. She watched Isabella go through the door and the last thing she saw was her parents enveloping their now only child into a hug. The frantic tears on Helena's motherly face scared her and the guilt on Archard's face was so depressing to look at, it was forever embedded into Helga's mind. On the walk home, she cried, imagining the-never going-to-happen introduction to the young man that spent his last days with the person she's been in love with since she was a little girl.
By the time she reached her house, her fresh tears dried up. Helga put her blanket in the hamper and went to her room. She was hurting all over her body, spirit, and mind. Lying on her bed above the comforter, feeling no comfort at all, she stared at the ceiling above her. Remorseful for something she doesn't even remember looking at on Arnold's day of deployment. How does one go through this, especially if it's a family member? Helga couldn't find the answer and wanting Arnold with her right now. All of a sudden, Helga wondered if Arnold could be gone too. It is quite possible; Isabella and Helga thought both boys were coming home, and now only maybe one. Helga took deep breaths in order to calm herself and force those dreadful thoughts away.
There was a knock on her bedroom door, and when Helga didn't answer immediately; Big Bob just came right in. He stood at the door, studying his second daughter's position, and cautiously moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Do you… uh… wanna talk about it?" he asked, clearly uncomfortable. Their relationship as father and daughter doesn't really expand more than loving sports, competition, joking about dumb things, and arguing; lately about a certain soldier. Helga shook her head, not looking at him. "Well, you have some mail. It's from that Arnie guy."
Helga's eyes widened, "What? Give it to me!" She was going to rip it open, but she decided to revel in his clumsy scrawl a bit before carefully opening it, gently smoothing out the jagged one line note. Helga stared at the three words with no motion to move.
Big Bob was getting impatient, "Well?" he inquired. "Girl, what does it say?"
Helga stood up and hugged her father for the first time in what seemed like years, and possibly was. She needed to hug something, and her father was the closest thing. Helga sat back down and whispered, "The letter said he's coming home."
***********Author's Note***********
Please review and tell me your thoughts, I love seeing my email go off and seeing your responses.
I am still doing 'Working Up to Something Fearless'; I just had to get this in. I couldn't think of anything else on Veterans Day and, well, my dad is currently deployed in Afghanistan so I just felt… you know… something. I will be working on WUTSF, the next chapters songs are decided on, but you gotta know I am busy and this took me a week to finish. So I hope you liked it… thank you and I appreciate you all (:
Edit Date: 12/2/12