Arnold Shortman opened his history textbook and looked within. Mr. Simmons had just written their new homework assignment across the blackboard in tall, crisp chalk letters.
"Alright, class!" he slapping his hands together twice to shake off the chalk dust. But that wasn't enough. When he wiped his hands on his pant leg, it left a white, powdery print. Perplexed, Mr. Simmons tried to dust that of, too and gave up. That was the trouble with chalk!
"For this Thanksgiving Day Week we are going to do a whole series of projects! The first is a really exciting topic- genealogy!"
"Genelology?" asked Stinky Peterson. "Gawsh, what's that?"
"Genealogy, Stinky," said Mr. Simmons smiling as he wrote on the board. "Is the study of one's ancestral heritage. When we're done discussing it, I would like you all to illustrate your very own family tree on a shiny piece of orange construction paper. Isn't this exciting!" Mr. Simmons said. Rhonda Lloyd sniffed.
"My pedigree is printed on mint vellum paper!" She leaned over toward Helga from behind. "What about yours?" she smirked.
"Keh!" Helga scoffed. "Probably in gibberish from the 'Old Country'," complained Helga. "But I don't speak Swiss!" But Sid raised a hand.
"Mr. Simmons, what's a family tree?"
"We'll get to all that, Sid!" promised Mr. Simmons. "But simply put, a family tree is a diagram to help one visualize the extra special relationships between family members, current and past!"
"You mean like dead people?" asked Helga lifting an eyebrow.
"Well, yes Helga. But the extra special thing about a family tree," said Mr. Simmons drawing something like bush in midwinter on the blackboard, "is that is is always growing! Suppose, say, you grow up and get married someday," Mr. Simmons said with a predicting smile. "Then the person you marry and your babies will go on the family tree, too! And their children, and your great-great grandchildren also! The family tree is always growing, always changing. But sometimes, I guess you could say, some branches stop after a while. Not everyone born has children eventually. Sometimes they have fewer and the family tree looks a little different then."
"Aw, that's complicated!" Stinky complained at Mr. Simmons answer.
"Yes, life is complicated!" Mr. Simmons agreed. "But by the end of this month, I'll bet all of you will have the names of relatives you didn't even know you had!" Helga pressed herself back in her desk chair and pulled out a stick of gum to chew. This was gonna be one of Mr. Simmon's long lectures, for sure!
At the end of the school day, Helga wandered past Gerald. The tall-haired boy was discussing his project in a loud voice. I'd be easy for him. He had his old man Fuzzy Slippers. But she'd have to talk to her parents about it and one thing Helga knew for sure was they usually weren't keen on helping with homework.
When Helga arrived at her front door, she was surprised to see a banner up like the one they used to greet Olga whenever she came back from a long absence to school. But this one had a different script. "Welcome, Gram!" the banner said in big, bold letters. Helga opened the front door and as she swung it open, she saw her mother looking unusually excited inside, dusting off the table in the hallway with a rag. Her father, Big Bob, was even putting a fresh coat of paint on the furthest end of the hallway.
"Dad! What's going on?" said Helga walking just past her mother. But Miriam put down her duster and answered instead of Bob.
"Isn't it great, Helga!" said Miriam Pataki clasping her hands together. "Your Gram is coming over from the Old Country to visit! Maybe she'll make some of your father's favorite borscht!"
"That's great," said Helga, befuddled. "Who's she?"
"Your Gram! You know, your grandmother!" Miriam explained. "On your father's side, of course. My grandparents lived in Texas."
"Why's she coming here?" asked Helga.
"Oh, you know. For a visit," Miriam spun sweetly. "You know she visited you when you were a little girl, once. Twice, actually! The first time you threw up on her accidentally when you went on the junior roller coaster in the kids section of Dino World. The second time you and her talked about a little paper heart you brought home from grade school."
"I don't remember that!" Helga protested.
"There's a lot of things you don't remember, honey!" said Miriam looking through her square frames at a squint. "You were still very young!"
"Oh you'll love Gram!" said Olga poised at the top of the stair before coming down. Olga gestured dramatically, like dancer gracing the stage. "Only you don't want to make her angry. There are the most incredible stories about her!"
"Like what?" Helga asked, tensing.
"Well, like one time, she wanted to make sausage so she captured a wild boar with her own bare hands and a bit of rope. And one time, a wine bottle dropped on her head from a second story window and she thought it was just rain. And one time, Gram bit onto her cake fork, and it bent! Oh, oh! And about thirty years ago, your Gram tried out skiing. She ran into a fir tree and took the whole thing down but still managed to finish second in a race! Isn't that great! Your Gram is a real tough lady!" said Olga. She leaned forward, a mischievous giggle escaping her lips.
"And she paddled my behind till it hurt for a week!" Big Bob said with a smile. "After that, I never flunked a math test again!"
"Well, she is a bit cranky," Olga said, still smiling. "But she's ever such a delightful character! So shrewd! So matriarchal! She had eight boys and she ran a tight household, did you know that?"
"Nah," Helga answered numbly. All of this was very much news to her!
"Well, lucky you because you get to meet her in a few days!" said Olga pressing Helga's nose like a button before strolling away in the direction of the kitchen.
The painting and cleaning of the Pataki household continued. But the next day, Helga had school and she went. It was her good fortune that today was a field trip day, not to the opera house this time but to the Hillwood History Museum. Helga bounced in the bus seat to her window to peer out at the downtown as their bright yellow school bus towered over the downtown cars. She grinned. Maybe she'd have the chance to reach over the rails and touch real dinosaur bones for the heck of it. Helga dismounted the bus steps next to Phoebe, her best friend, but when she looked ahead of her Mr. Simmons stood in a large knot of students with a familiar hat.
"Okay, people!" said Mr. Simmons. "Please line up and draw a name from the hat, to select your buddies! Harold, would you like to go first?" their teacher said. Harold selected a paper slip. "Eugene," he read. "Aw, aw man!" he wailed in complaint.
"Phoebe!" Lila read off and Helga was very annoyed. But she reached into the hat herself and read off a name that was faintly surprising. "Rhonda?" Both Rhonda and Helga shared a look that turned from surprised to daring with each other.
"Ya better not slow me down, Rhondaloid!" said Helga using her favorite play on Rhonda's last name, which she took way too much pride in for her own good. But Rhonda sniffed.
"You'd better not spread your masculine airs with me!" Rhonda warned back.
"Girls, girls!" said Mr. Simmons trying to placate them. "Now I want you and everyone else to stay close to their buddy as you explore the museum! We'll all meet back here by one. But for today's school assignment, I would like everyone here to take this sheet of paper," said Mr. Simmons holding up a yellow manilla folder with white paper sheets inside. "And write down a paragraph about which display in the Hall of Empires is your favorite one and why! Now, come here and I'll distribute some pens for you to use!"
"I'll hand them out!" said Eugene waving his hand up in the air with zeal. But Mr. Simmons stared down flat-lipped at the boy.
"No, Eugene. No. Stinky will hand out the pens," said Mr. Simmons, and hence another terrible accident was avoided!
Coincidentally, Gerald had drawn Arnold's name and Helga watched as the two friends walked off together, laughing at something Tall-haired boy had said. In a sense, Helga was glad for Arnold. She smiled at the retreating boy.
"So, Rhonda!" Helga said settling into her own fate. "What century do you want to see first?"
"Let's start at the beginning and be orderly about this!" Rhonda pleaded. "None of your random chaos, this time please!" she said as if recalling a poor choice of T-shirt. But it was a mild rebuke between friends. After all, Rhonda played baseball with Helga and the boys nearly every day these days, and she was one mean of a football player. If the girl who was obsessed about clothes was willing to shred up her designer capris for a rough game, then she had earned respect in Helga's book. They walked over to a booth of wax figures wearing skin clothes.
"Oh, please!" said Rhonda complaining. "Not all cavemen were obsessed with summer wear, I'm sure!" she said eyeing the scanty cloth. They moved onto the next booths. There were some displays of Egypt and Rome to look at. Working their way around, Helga and Rhonda found their way to a windowless display of two Europeans in full court dress.
"Oops!" said Harold rather suddenly. "I dropped my pen!"
"I'll get it!" Eugene sang pluckily. But instead of retrieving it, the boy accidentally stepped on it instead. The pen rolled across the slick, waxed museum floor.
"AUUUGHHH!" hollered Eugene before with a crash, Eugene wipe out the entire wax figurine display Helga and Rhonda had been observing. Helga picked up a ladies wig with curlers and plopped it on her head.
"Hey!" she said, posing. Rhonda grinned. She took the men's wig and plopped it on her own head. Both the girls leapt onto the museum platform and posed, frozen, for a few minutes when the museum guard passed by. When he rounded the corner both girls broke out into laughter.
"Well, better fess up Eugene, so you can be banned from here, too!" Helga declared without sympathy. She and Rhonda tossed off their wigs.
Elsewhere across the museum, Arnold had pulled himself over a tall rail on his tiptoes for a better look at Roman Centurions. Gerald meanwhile, was looking at a diorama of a city with lots of tiny little people. Like toy soldiers from a bucket, they were too small to see well, but the houses around them were neat! Gerald squinted.
"Gerald!" Arnold called. "Look! What do you think their hat's made of? Feathers?"
"Um, dyed horse hair, I think," said Gerald trying to remember his history lesson. There had been a little diagram in the book.
"There's something about that look that's weird, yet familiar," Arnold observed. He tapped his chin with his fringe as he thought, his eyes squinting as he tilted his head.
"You mean the kilt? Or in their case, a Pteruges?" said Gerald reading the sign. "Yeah, you're right man," said Gerald laughing. "You've got one of those, too!"
"Gerald!" Arnold groused. He looked down at his untucked red plaid shirt.
"Okay people, people!" said Mr. Simmons clapping his hands together at one o'clock when they all regrouped. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong but I think we're all here. Are we missing anybody?" their teacher waited with a grim smile. They really had left behind two students by accident once!
"No? Well, okay then! Let's head back to the bus!" said Mr. Simmons. Helga walked side by side with Phoebe again.
"Hey, Phoebes, how's it goin'?" Helga nonchalantly asked her friend.
"Great!" said Phoebe. "I decided to my school assignment on the Latin American continent and Meso-America. How about you?"
"Ah, I just scribbled something down about the cavemen. Didn't think too hard on it," said Helga. "What I was really interested in!" she said holding up a paper bag, "was the gift shop! I picked up some of the really cool pencils with dinosaurs and sharks on 'em!"
"Pencils?" Phoebe asked.
"Rhondaloid got a shirt!" said Helga. "If you want, I can give you a little turtle-shaped eraser as a souvenir."
"Um, thanks," said Phoebe accepting the gift. "That's really nice of you, Helga!" the girls said as they settled themselves down on one of the best bus seats, on the left three seats behind the bus driver- just far away enough for him to to see them too easily from his rear view window.
Helga arrived home in good humor. It had been one of the better school days. But when she opened the front door it wasn't filled with the joy she expected to find. Her Gram from the old country hadn't arrived for her visit as planned. Instead, there was a bunch of frowning faces at the kitchen table.
"Hello, Olga!" Helga said awkwardly. In part to break the ice, she held up a pencil. "Would you like pencil? It's got cowboys on it!"
"No thank you, Helga," said Olga sadly. "Sit down. I have the most awful, awful news for you, little sister!" Olga lay her palm across the top of Helga's hand. "You see, we got word from Gram's family. She's not visiting. She passed away yesterday."
"Um, that's awful!" said Helga sensing the mood. But her mind swirled about in confusion. Her fabled grandmother was still a stranger to her, like a force of nature she could not understand. Helga turned as her father gave a deep, sorrowed sigh.
"I thought she'd never go!" he complained. "The lady was like, invincible!"
"It was just her time, B," said Miriam in comfort although she sounded just as miserable. Sad events tended to affect Miriam deeply.
"She sounded so healthy just the other day!" Olga complained. She rolled her mascaraed eyes back in thought. "You know, Helga," said Olga squeezing Helga's hand tight. "It's funny, but I think she really liked you! Gram was asking about you! She asked if you still were fond of that boy on the little paper heart, and I told her that you had the sweetest little waltz with him! She seemed really glad. Oops!" said Olga covering her mouth with a gasp, because she had just spilled a secret that she had promised not to tell the rest of the family. But it didn't matter. Miriam and Bob weren't listening, and truthfully they weren't as worried about what Helga did as Olga.
"Well, what do we do, B?" Miriam asked sadly.
"Well," the man said thinking. "I might be able to fly over for the funeral myself. But it'd be tough for all of us to go! How about we all go over to local church and light a candle of something?" said Big Bob jerking a thumb backwards. That's exactly what they did. A few days later, dressed all in black, Helga stood with her family as a priest lit a tall white candlestick at an altar in memory of her grandma. Helga watched her family cry, although she did not cry herself. But her face was deeply troubled.
"Well, that's it!" said Big Bob laying a hand on either shoulder of his wife and eldest daughter. "We'd better go get something to eat!" They all loaded into the car to go to a diner.
Back in class again, Helga doodled on the sheet of orange construction paper that was supposed to be her family tree. Mr. Simmons walked over to stand beside his sad-faced student.
"Helga, are you alright?" asked their teacher. Dazed, Helga looked up.
"Hm? Yeah. What's up?" asked Helga. Mr. Simmons picked up page.
"Helga, you haven't filled in any of this!" he observed. "Is something the matter?"
"No! Well, it's just that my Gram died and I don't want to ask my parents about things like this right now," she said scuttling her eyes to the side. Mr. Simmons gave Helga a sympathetic smile.
"Well, in that case I can give you extra time to complete the assignment! But if you need to talk…."
"No, no, no thank, Mr. Simmons!" Helga said waving a hand out. "I just want to get through the day, read comics, and eat junk food. I'm fine Mr. Simmons!" she pleaded.
"Okay," replied Mr. Simmons. But their teacher was unconvinced. He'd be keeping an extra eye on Helga for the time being because he cared about the well-being of all his students.
Helga hurried straight to the lunchroom at lunchtime. When the lunch lady wasn't looking she snatched an extra pudding for her tray and sat down at the table with Phoebe. When Gerald and Arnold showed up, Helga surprised Arnold by plopping the spare pudding she had snatched down on his tray.
"Um, thanks Helga!" Arnold said although he wondered about the occasion. Helga was being unusually nice. Which made him worried.
"How was your Thanksgiving, Helga?" asked Arnold studying Helga over his sandwich. The girl looked a bit depressed after all.
"Miserable!" said Helga. "My Gram died. So everyone was miserable moping around and stuff. We skipped the turkey. Ate restaurant junk food instead."
"I'm sorry," said Arnold heartfully. His eyes rounded with profound sympathy, especially since losing a grandparent was a fear especially close to home for him. He was being raised by two of them, after all.
"Nah, no big deal!" said Helga. "I didn't know her and all. The only time I met her, I was too young to recall much. So she's kind of a mystery to me."
"Still, my condolences all the same!" said the boy. Helga glared down at her own sandwich and forced herself to take a big bite, even if she didn't really feel hungry. Helga finished out the day at school. Then she walked home. When she passed by her room door, Helga was startled to see her sister Olga packing her suitcase.
"Olga!" said Helga dropping her schoolbooks and running inside her sister's door. "What the heck are ya doin'!"
"Oh, hello, Sweetie!" said Olga turning. "I meant to tell you, but I'm going away for a semester! I'm going to take an acting class in California!" Helga stared at her Big Sis, her eyes big.
"But Olga!" Helga pleaded. "You can't leave now!"
"Oh, but I think I must, Helga," said Olga sitting down on the bed beside her sister sadly. Helga looked up at her Sis.
"You see, while the time here I spent with you these last few months is cherished and something I never want to forget, I was always happiest in school. Being here with all this sadness is bringing down my perky lifestyle. Do you understand?"
"No," said Helga firmly. "I thought that in times of sorrow a family is supposed to stick together!"
"Maybe they are," said Olga. "But right now I just can't."
"Well, then I'll miss you. And I'll write you every day," said Helga leaning up and kissing Olga on the forehead. She smiled wanly at her Big Sis, who hugged her back.
"You're the best, little sister anyone could ask for!" said Olga tearing up. "I'm certain your extra-special gentleman will take good care of you while I'm away."
"Sure," said Helga wearing a weak smile. Over the past few months, sure her sister had been an enormous pain in the butt, but she was her sister all the same. It was sad to see her go to California.
"It will only be until May," Olga promised. "Then I'll be right back living with you!"
"Promise?" asked Helga. "Shake on it!" she smiled up at her sister sadly.
"Why, sure!" said Olga.
"And I promise to grow a few inches while you're away," Helga smirked thinking of how much six months change would bring in her. How much it had brought in her already. She watched sadly as her sister called up some of her girlie friends on the phone promising to visit them. When her cab pulled up, she climbed on board and rode away. Helga heaved a little sigh. The next day, Helga excused herself from their school lunch table which she now shared with Arnold and Gerald. She sat down on the bench outside the door, put her head in her hands and sighed.
"Are you okay?" asked Arnold, a hand softly placed on her shoulder. Helga looked up at him and smiled.
"No, I'm not okay," Helga admitted. "My family is in mourning, I guess, and they aren't taking it well. We haven't eaten a family dinner together since the day of the funeral. Dad stays at work all day and Miriam is sliding on her AAA program and well, now even Olga has decided to bail. She said something about being here making her miserable and she decided to just leave! Figures. Just when I got used to having her around," grimaced Helga.
"I'm sorry," said Arnold. "I guess I'm trying to think positive here, but maybe everyone grieves in their own way?"
"Pfft!" Helga said. "Poppycock! They're just all feeling sorry for themselves! They need to get over themselves. We all have a shelf expiration date."
"Still it hurts when someone you love dies," said Arnold.
"Well, like I said I didn't know her! But you know, something inside me kinds of wish I did. I kind of am curious now. She was kind of like an ancestor and now I guess she is. I never really thought about where I came from and what my family tree was like until recently. I kind of feel like I want to know more of who I am."
"Yeah?" said Arnold, now reflecting himself. "You know, you're right Helga. I don't know much about my family either, except for the stories my Grandpa tells me. Maybe we both need to look up our ancestors! You know, just to know what there is to know." Helga twisted her eyebrow.
"Arnold that sentence is way too complicated! But I get what you're sayin', ya!"
Helga Pataki went home. Things in her home began to settle down to normalcy and a few weeks later, Helga's father, Bob, came into the living room where she was watching Saturday cartoons. He placed a little paper box in the slender palm that wasn't holding a t.v. remote.
"Here. For you," said Big Bob Pataki gruffly, handing the box off and staring down at Helga to open it.
"What's this?!" Helga said setting down the remote to open the paper box. From inside she pulled an oval pendant with a chain of gold.
"Well, that's the second thing you inherited from you Grandma!" said Big Bob. "Well, third really. That eyebrow! But your middle name, too! Geraldine," Big Bob explained to Helga. "That was your Gram's first name!"
"Wow," Helga said softly. "I didn't know that. But what is this?" She looked down at the jewelry in her hand.
"Ah, she wanted you to have it. Something she left in her will. It belonged to her," said Big Bob. "Funny that of all her relatives, she trusted you to have it." Helga looked down again. The pendant really could use a bit of jewelry polish, she thought as her eyes fell upon what looked like a little clasp.
"Hey, Dad!" said Helga tensing with excitement. "It's a locket!" After a few attempts, Helga managed to open it to reveal a tiny black and white photograph. The picture was a blurry print of a teenage boy with blond hair smiling and standing in a tux. Helga held the locket up.
"Dad? Who's this?" Bob stared down at the photo.
"Hm? Oh that! That's a picture of your Grandpa! They were sweethearts. Got married at seventeen, which wasn't uncommon back in that day. Especially for the Old Country."
"Wow!" said Helga staring. "I didn't know that, Dad!"
"There's a whole lot you don't know!" said Big Bob before going off on a long history lesson. With a smile, Helga turned off the t.v. to listen.
When Big Bob had finished talking, the cartoon hours were over but it was still Saturday. Helga was feeling private so instead of calling up Phoebe or pestering Arnold, she wandered over to her favorite bridge. She had a whole tin can of pebbles to throw waiting between two of the rails but she didn't feel like throwing rocks today. Instead, she was doing some deep thinking.
"Well," said Helga pulling her heart-shaped locket with Arnold's picture in it from around her neck and comparing it to her Grandmother's oval one. "I guess we did have something in common! What a surprise!" Humming, Helga pocketed both pieces of jewelry and went for a stroll around the block. Maybe she would drop by the house of a certain Football-Head to pester him after all. The end.