Arnold Shortman didn't hate his cousin, Arnie. But just like toothpaste foam after he had spit, he recoiled from it. That hair. That snort. Those mismatched, blinking eyes. The way his cousin counted, yes counted things for fun and read the back of shampoo bottles. It was not that Arnold could blame him much. His cousin lived way out in the farm country and there wasn't that much to do there, he assumed.
Arnold supposed part of the reason he secretly detested Arnie so much was that his cousin made moves on all the girls he, himself, found romantic interest in. When Arnie had first come to visit, Arnold's past crush Lila fawned over him. But then Arnie had begun to shower his attention on Helga G. Pataki. It was a shocking revelation to Arnold that someone, anyone, including his dull and weird cousin, could pick Helga over someone as perfect as Lila. But then again, Lila wasn't nearly as intriguing. Helga was a thunderous fire that begged to be touched while Lila was cool as stone.
Arnold hadn't been bothered by Arnie's attentions to the girl at first. But things had changed since then. Both she and Arnold were older by one year and ever since that Tango, FTI, and Rhonda's marriage predictor, the two of them blushed and jointly changed the subject between them whenever things got mushy. Because romance was a sore, and taboo point between them. But neither could either of the two stand to distance themselves from the other for too long. So whenever Arnie did mention Helga, whom he all too greatly admired, Arnold grit his teeth and ground them. It had been all he could do to avoid punching his cousin when Arnie had come for a visit to Hillwood earlier that year. Yet, Helga wasn't going to be coming to the croplands, was she? She'd be safely in Hillwood! Maybe Arnold and Arnie would actually get along great during this visit! Or so Arnold hoped.
"Lint. Your cousin collects lint!" Gerald Johanssen voiced so loudly that everyone in the small corner store could hear him. With a horrified expression, Arnold shushed him.
"Please, Gerald, not so loud!" the golden haired boy pleaded placing his hand across Gerald's mouth. But Gerald's mother was working the cash register a few feet nearby and heard them.
"Oh, come on, honey, everybody already knows it's true!" said Mrs. Johanssen. Gerald shrugged. Arnold slapped himself in the face. There was no arguing with that one.
"Look here, Arnold!" Gerald explained with great importance. He dragged his finger along a store shelf loaded with magazines. "You'll be stuck out in a wilderness of corn with nothing but pigs and lint for ages! You need to bring yourself some entertainment! Here is your young men's magazine, the latest headlines, a magazine showin' the latest and most stylin' of tattoos, and look, there's even a little puzzle book for you'all to do in your spare time."
"Gerald!" Arnold voiced a complaint. "I'm ten. I'm not going to get a tattoo!" But the idea to buy some magazines wasn't a bad one. Arnold picked up a copy of "Weird Space" and flipped through its pages.
When Arnold packed his suitcase that night, he did place a stack of magazines on the bottom. Arnold also packed a yoyo and his second-best harmonica, because Gerald was right. Visiting Arnie was probably going to be anything but entertaining. Arnold sighed. He hoped he wouldn't have any nightmares tonight of his big, upcoming trip. Then he slowly walked downstairs to the kitchen.
"Hey, there, Grandpa," Arnold called softly. His grandpa was rummaging around for a bottle of ketchup. When he found it, he sat down.
"Dinner is soon, Arnold!" His grandpa said with a smile. "It's frankfurters tonight!"
"Great," said Arnold. While hot dogs weren't his favorite food to eat, they were decent.
It was an especially fortunate meal because his Grandmother couldn't possibly add strange ingredients to the meat, although sometimes she did offer some very unique toppings. Marshmallow and pineapple did not taste the same as mustard and relish.
"Ready for your big trip, tomorrow?"
"I guess so, Grandpa," Arnold replied dropping down into a kitchen chair. He boy leant heavily on his elbow. "My suitcase is packed, I've got the bus tickets on my desk and a little money…. Gerald even got me some magazines to read!"
"Oh! Did you get a puzzle book? I love the ones where you connect the dots to make a little animal!" said Phil tracing a finger through the air, pretending to do a puzzle.
"It's not that kind of puzzle book, Grandpa," Arnold said with a flat frown.
"Well cheer up, Arnold. It's only month with the little weirdo and then it's back to your ol' life again!"
"Why do I have to do this, Grandpa?" Arnold complained, raising his voice at last. The restrained calm he had been wearing broke as his face became more animated. He waved his hands across the table. "I mean why do I have to visit Arnie? Why does he have to visit me for so long?"
"Well, I guess it's because we're old, Shortman," said Grandpa with dull honesty. "In case something happens to us, you'd wind up living with Arnie as a sort of brother. His parents just want to make sure you two have that 'special family bond' because you two are the only ones you've got. The rest of us are all fossils."
"So in twenty years the only family I'll have left is Arnie?"
"Pretty much, Shortman." Arnold gasped and covered his eyes.
"I can't believe this is happening. What about Arnie's parents?"
"Hm. They're still around. Don't talk much… except about tractors. They had Arnine when they were in their fifties so they are pretty old themselves. But not as old as yours truly!" said Phil with a proud grin. He put his thumbs behind his suspender straps and snapped them proudly. "Cheer up, Shortman. Like I said, it's only a month."
"A very long month," said Arnold.
"Hm, can't argue with that," said Phil. But then they both heard Pookie's voice coming from the larger dining room.
"Dinner!" Arnold's Grandma yelled. "Pull up round the chuckwagon, y'all!" So Arnold pushed himself back from the smaller table, stood up, and went to go have dinner with his grandparents and all the boarders.
On the other side of the neighborhood, Helga G. Pataki was just sitting down for her meal. Big Bob Pataki was a big meat and potatoes man, and he had shopped accordingly. Today Helga's dinner plate was half filled with meat (fried chicken in a bucket and all the mashed potatoes and stuffing they could eat). It was one of the perks of being a Pataki. More often than not these days, they went out to a restaurant for their food or ordered in because Miriam, Helga's mother, was just so unreliable.
Helga took up another piece of chicken from the deep, red striped paper bucket and took a savage bite. Across the table, her father was chewing loudly and mowing down wing after wing, throwing the bones into a pile with a clatter. Then he picked up his spoon.
"Pass the stuffing!" he said without the word please. Helga slid him the bowl not by handing it, but by batting it across the table like a hockey puck. It was the usual order of things. When they finally ran out of food, Big Bob let out a wide belch.
"Now that was a good meal!" He said picking his teeth with his thumb for a moment. Then he checked to see if Miriam was awake. Miriam was, indeed, unusually aware today. She sat up straight in her chair with a disconnected expression.
"So Miriam," said Big Bob looking at his wife. "Did you tell Helga the big news?"
"News? What big news?" said Helga. She prayed it was not about a new sibling or moving. The anticipation of even a few moments nearly gave her a heart attack.
"Well, honey!" Miriam said with a modest smile. "Your father and I were talking about how you don't have many friends."
"I have lots of friends!" Helga disagreed soundly. But her mother's news continued on anyways.
"So we decided to sign you up for a summer camp! Isn't that exciting! Just you and lots of kids your age swimming and hiking and enjoying the outdoors! It starts tomorrow and runs for four weeks," Miriam finished lamely digging a spoon into her potatoes.
"Summer camp!" said Helga horrified. She had been planning to play as much baseball as possible with her friends this summer and slumber party with Phoebe. "Tell me you're joking!"
"We're not joking, Helga!" said her mother still with joy in her voice. "We wanted it to be a surprise!"
"Great Mom, just great," Helga muttered.
"So what camp did you sign me up for?" asked Helga. "Painting? Crafts?" She frowned as Big Bob handed her a flyer across the table.
"Extreme athletics camp with Sergeant Major Goose?!" Helga said crumpling up the flyer against her chest in horror.
"Mom! Dad! I can't go to this!"
"Of course you can!" said Bob. "You like sports."
But Sergeant Major Goose was the last teacher or camp administrator Helga ever wished to have. She and the rest of her fourth grade class had hated him when he had been assigned to them as a teacher. He was extremely inflexible and severe. After Helga had been put into a corner for snickering, she and the rest of her classmates had plotted to make him quit. They had asked him so may questions that he had gone out of his mind. After that, they were content to have Mr. Simmons for their instructor. Helga was not about to go to any military boot camp run by him! But what to do about it, she wondered?
The next day dawned, gruesome like the sunset before an execution. Helga stood in front of her bus stop, wearing her pink jacket and a bucket hat. In her hand was a small suitcase. Her parents stood nearby so there was no getting out of this, this time. Not right now anyway.
"Goodbye, dear!" said Miriam waving as Helga got aboard the bus with the other school children. Helga stared back at her parents looking rather unusually proud of themselves. They must really have thought they were doing her a favor! But she was especially determined not to go to Sergeant Goose's boot camp! As soon as she got on the bus, Helga watched through the window until her parents turned their backs. Then she snuck out the door between children and whipped around the other side of it. She had left her suitcase behind but in truth, she had little need of it. She had packed everything good in a different case she had hidden in Hillwood.
"Great!" Said Helga removing her hat and jamming it in her pocket. She began to crawl through the weeds on the other side of the parking lot. Crouching down, she waited behind a large shrub for the bus to leave.
Earlier this morning, Helga had postmarked a letter to the camp that she had fallen sick and so couldn't attend. She had poetically written that they should keep her parents money on credit instead of a refund so she could attend during their next session instead. The forgery was a work of art, in Helga's perception. She had mimicked her Dad's choppy writing so well that she had almost believed the artifice herself. Thinking back on her ploy, Helga gave out a cruel chuckle. She only hoped that it worked.
If things went poorly, Helga was in for a world of trouble. But desperation made her act, and so she ran down the street and dodged into a generous-sized alleyway not too far from her house. There, she pulled out her real suitcase stuffed full of snacks and clothes and toiletries. But she was, because of her recklessness, now up a creek without a paddle. How could she live for a full month on her own? Helga tapped a finger against her cheek. In her desperation, she had not planned that far ahead. Maybe she could crash at Phoebe's for a while.
But Helga's nerves were stirred up at the moment and so she felt the need to indulge in her dearest comfort, her friend and secret crush Arnold. So when the next local bus stopped at the corner, she took it to Vine Street and crawled up his fire escape. It was a familiar comfort to her just to crouch and stare down at the boy from afar, but when she peered down the glass, Helga was shocked to see a suitcase sitting on top of Arnold's bed. Then Arnold strolled into the room and picked up the phone by his couch and dialed a number. Helga was astonished when her cellphone rang just then. Helga picked it up and moved far away from the glass ceiling before answering.
"Hello, Arnold?" she said before slapping her head.
"How'd you know it's me?" Arnold asked.
"Just a lucky guess. Any reason you're calling me, Football-Head?"
"I just wanted to tell you I'm going to be gone for a month. Grandpa and Grandma are making me visit Arnie. You know, my cousin. So I'll be gone for a while. I just wanted you to know. Since we're friends and all."
"Sure we're friends, Arnoldo," Helga said. It was true. During the fourth grade they had frequently been in enmity with one another but in the fifth grade Helga sat behind Arnold and the two were practically inseparable. Phoebe, Gerald, and Arnold went lots of places together but even when one of the others dropped out, Helga was sure to still tag along beside Arnold.
"I'll bring you back a souvenir," said Arnold with sympathy for what Helga must be feeling. He had come to know her pretty well, so right now she was probably having an emotional moment. It was part of the reason he had waited till last minute to tell her. "Is there anything.. you know… you would like in particular?" Arnold asked nervously.
"Wha? I? You're going to Arnie's? For a month?" repeated Helga in a daze. "When?"
"My bus leaves in… forty-five minutes," said Arnold checking his watch. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. But I'll be back in a month!"
"Well it can't be helped, Arnoldo!" said Helga with a small huff. "What's done is done."
"Yes. Well, thanks for taking it so well, Helga. I really appreciate it," said Arnold rubbing the back of his neck. He had expected a tirade. But Helga was being unusually calm.
"No problem," said Helga hanging up the phone.
If Helga was less rude, she might have wished him to have a good time. But instead, the wheels in her head were turning. Perhaps she could sneak into Arnold's room as soon as he left and hide there. But then again, maybe, just maybe, she could manage something better. As Helga watched, Arnold picked up the phone again and dialed a new number.
"Hello, Arnie?" Arnold said with great hesitation. "It's me. Yes, my bus leaves in forty-five minutes. I'll see you soon." Arnold hung up the phone and grabbed hold of his suitcase by its handle. Then, with one last look around, he left his room. Helga pried open the glass hatch to his roof and shimmied down the wall-ladder beside his bed. Then she lept for the phone and pressed redial.
"Hey, Arnie?" said Helga with cunning desperation. "It's Helga. Helga Pataki. You know, the girl from P.S. 118?" Helga said trying to sound adorable. "Well, you know that barn dance you told me about last fall when you were in Hillwood? Well, I'd ever so like to see it," said Helga blinking her eyelids and doing an impersonation of Lila. "I'd like to see all the things you told me about so I'm accepting your invitation. I'm coming over for a visit. When? Oh, today! Arnold and I will be taking the same bus. Why didn't he say anything about it? Well, it's a surprise! Well, see you soon!" Helga threw the phone back on the cradle.
"Ha!" She laughed, then crawled back up to the roof top and down the fire escape. She crouched and listened stealthily as Arnold said his last goodbyes on his stoop.
"Bye Grandma. Bye Grandma. Bye, Abner!" said Arnold petting his favorite pig.
"Have a good time, Arnold! And remember, eat as much as you can! Maybe you'll grow a few inches."
"I'll do that," said Arnold giving Abner one last pat before pushing the pig inside and shutting the door. Now Arnold was alone on the empty street. He began walking toward his bus stop.
"Excellent!" said Helga cackling and rubbing her hands together. "Now all I've got to do is sneak aboard that bus!"
That was easier said than done. They would be riding for hours so Helga fished out her purse instead of stowing away and paid for her fare at the ticket counter. Then she entered the bus. Arnold was gazing out the window as usual, so he didn't notice when Helga dropped down to lay across the front seat of the bus. She had put her bucket hat back on, just in case her pink ribbon and blond hair gave her away.
"Eight hours away from Hillwood," Helga mumbled to herself. "Perfect!" Her plan was fragile, but somehow it was working out okay. Arnie adored her. As disgusting as she found the boy, he would be thrilled to have her around. But it was Arnold's reaction to her scheme that had Helga nervous.
"A whole month with my beloved!" said Helga taking out her locket from her dress front and sighing at the picture of Arnold fondly. "It is like a dream come true!"
So what do you think? Is this a keeper?
