Almost twenty-three hours later, they were landing in San Lorenzo. This was their third plane and was by far the smallest, oldest thing she had even been in. How it had even lifted into the air, she would never know. It had been terrifying and Helga had forced herself to sleep with the intention that if she died, she wouldn't even know it. But now she jolted awake and looked outside the tiny window, trying to figure out what was happening. The plane vibrated and groaned and that was a breaking sound, oh god they were crashing! The piece of shit was falling apart!
"It's ok, Helga," Arnold's voice was low but it seemed so loud, echoing in her ears. Her only response was to stare at him in terror but when her eyes locked onto his green ones, a sense of calm washed over her. Slowly, she nodded and before she knew it, the plane was down and taxiing to its destination.
The last day's events flooded back to her. The plane ticket, trying not to die of boredom as they waited for the flight that night, the fight with the airport personnel to keep her carry-on with her on this last flight and not let it be stowed in the belly of the beast because all of her worldly possessions and money were in there, and eventually forced herself to fall asleep. She thought that she had been dreaming about this, but it looked like it was real.
Very, very real.
She was in San Lorenzo with Arnold and they were going to look for his parents. It could be easy but she knew it was going to be dangerous. She almost died just coming here!
And to think, she could be in Hawai'i right now, tanning in the sun.
With a mental sigh, she followed Arnold off the plane, her luggage rolling behind her, when she ran smack-dab right into a wall of humidity. Jungle noises flooded her senses and she wondered, not for the first time, what the fuck made her do this. But there was no denying that this was definitely going to be a much bigger adventure than Hawai'i could ever be.
San Lorenzo's airport consisted of one building and a tower; if you could even really call it a building. It was more like two shacks with a roof in between, and even though it was obvious there was air-conditioning inside, they were ushered to the side of the building with their ten other flight companions to go through immigration. Really, they didn't even have the humanity to do this inside?
Helga scowled at the windows and the sweat-free haven while she was practically gagging on the humidity. They had only been out for maybe fifteen minutes and she already needed to change her clothes. Of course, wearing jeans was not helping the situation at all.
There were no cabs waiting outside but the workers were nice enough to call for one. Maybe it would take five minutes - or two hours - so they might as well get comfortable. Everything here was go-with-the-flow and Helga was instantly reminded of the Caribbean. She felt the need to go-go-go, get it done right now, but she forced herself to relax and not say anything negative. She was planning on moving to Hawai'i for exactly this laid-back frame of mind. She just had to keep reminding herself that there were no deadlines here. This wasn't exactly a vacation, but she needed to relax. Chill.
"Helga!"
"What!" she snapped, scowling over at her former classmate. He had a look on his face that made her sigh in resignation and she attempted to run her hand through her sweaty hair. Ew. "Sorry, it's the heat… What'd you say?"
"I asked if you wanted to go to the bathroom and change. I'll wait here and keep watch."
Helga looked over at him, silent for a moment before nodding. He looked just as miserable as she felt and he no doubt wanted to change as well. He was also wearing jeans and a thick, long-sleeved shirt and she hoped he had brought something thinner. "Thanks, I'll hurry." She grabbed her carry-on and went towards the one-room bathroom that she had been directed to.
When she got there, she closed the door behind her and frowned when she saw no lock. Making do, she pushed her luggage against the door, doubting that anyone would be walking in, but it was there just in case.
The bathroom was disgusting. And hot. There were no windows and she doubted that it had ever been cleaned – even brand new it had to have been revolting. Helga gagged at the floor and did the best she could with taking off her pants without having to step on the dead bugs, mud, and most likely fecal matter in her bare feet and stepped on her sandals instead.
As she changed into a pair of shorts, she began to think logically. They needed to go to a bank because they had zero currency. Would the cabbie even take American dollars? Without the risk of sounding arrogant, she didn't think it would be a problem, though, as the USD was pretty strong…and probably preferred as most South American countries.
And, as miserable as she would probably be, she had to get some pants and boots. If, for some reason, they had to go traipsing through the jungle – which she was willing to bet her left leg on because it was Arnold – sandals and shorts would be suicide. The bugs and leaves would kill her without hesitation. Damn bugs.
Not bothering to fold up her pants and sweaty shirt properly, she stuffed them in her luggage as she pulled out the thinnest tank top she had. Which were almost all of her tops, really.
If there was one thing Helga loved about herself, it was her arms. They were defined and no one could say they weren't muscular, but not bulging like someone on steroids. She really didn't understand why women didn't want to have noticeable muscles and why this was considered too "manly." She thought it was sexy and showed that that woman was not someone you wanted to mess around with. It was apparent that she worked out and if that intimidated someone, then Helga was better off for it; just one less person bothering her.
After pulling down her shirt, Helga couldn't get out of the bathroom fast enough and didn't bother closing the door behind her, instead letting is slam behind her with a shudder.
Even though she knew Arnold would want to change too, a part of her wished that the taxi would be waiting for them when she walked up.
No such luck.
She sighed.
"Your turn. Be careful in there, it's something else." Her face must have told him something because she swore she could see some sort of shudder pass over his frame as he walked towards the death closet with his backpack.
There were no benches out front and although she would have loved to sit inside, they'd been warned that the cab may leave if he didn't see anyone out front. Why they couldn't bother to put one out by the curb was beyond her. Or, if this was too difficult, the least they could do was put out a couple of chairs.
And where the hell were the other people? How did they get transportation before them? Could they have possibly called ahead to their hotels or loved ones or whatever and let them know they needed a lift but couldn't possibly bother with two more people?
She shook her head. Just roll with it…
Since she had booked it out of the bathroom, Helga took the time now to take down her hair and brush it. There was just something that felt so satisfying taking her hair out of a ponytail and brushing it when she was sweaty. Normally it was a post-workout pleasure, but it still felt good to brush it now. In no time, her hair was put up in a loose bun to keep it off of her neck (it was long enough that it reached the bottom of her shoulder blades) and she was lounging on the dirt curb.
Arnold walked out a couple of minutes later and joined her without any comments about the restroom. When he walked towards her, his backpack dangling from his hand at his side, she had never been so thankful for sunglasses before in her life.
His long sleeves had been replaced by a white crew tee and it was just loose enough that no one would question it didn't fit, but tight enough that she could see that he definitely worked out.
His arms strained against the short sleeves and she absently wondered how she had not felt them when he had hugged her earlier that day (or, yesterday, actually) at the Hillwood Airport. They were mini trunks!
Ok, so she exaggerated a bit, as he was no boxer or wrestler like she was accustomed to seeing at her gym, but they were bulked enough to be found on a cheap cover of a romance novel, ready to beat up the villain of the week.
Well, maybe not cheap, but absolutely cover material. Definitely action star quality. His shoulders were broad and only a quick glimpse towards his chest confirmed that there was no lack of brawns there.
Helga was facing forward towards the road that would bring the car, but the corners of her eyes were all on him. As such, she only had a moment to check out his legs to confirm that she didn't imagine his upper body.
Yes, he was most definitely cut. Just what have you been up to in college, Football Head?
He sat down next to her and it was all Helga could do not to move and act unaffected. So they sat quietly with little words exchanged and she hoped her heart, which had sped up significantly, wasn't too loud. Who knew that scrawny little Arnold would grow up to be so hot?
The bugs and birds sang close by and Helga focused on them, wondering yet again if this was really happening. It had to be, though. There's no way her subconscious would have created such a disgusting bathroom and such an eye-candy Arnold.
"Thanks again for coming, Helga."
She was pulled from her thoughts and shrugged, thankful she wasn't losing herself to her fantasies.
"So, what's the first plan of action?" Helga hadn't really looked at him during their time traveling and her eyes continued to stay glued to the road in front of her as if that would make the car arrive sooner. And they had hardly exchanged any words on the plane rides, just asking the most basic of questions and giving the simplest of answers. Yes, she was hungry, no he didn't need to stretch out.
"Check into the hotel and probably get you some new clothes. I'm assuming you only have beach stuff in that bag." He nodded towards her luggage in front of her and she absently toed at it with her sandal.
"Yep. I'm going to need to go to the bank too, change some currency to get pants and stuff. Had no plans of traipsing through the jungle looking for lost parents." She paused for a second before asking, "When do we start with that, by the way?"
Arnold pulled his backpack in front of him and, for the first time since they'd been together, opened it. He pulled out a book that looked suspiciously like an old diary or something and opened it to the last page. She leaned closer to him to look down at the hand-drawn map and immediately realized why he had trouble deciphering it. Most of the words were in Spanish and there wasn't exactly a trail that led to the big X. It looked more like a painting rather than a map.
He pointed to an obvious town. "That's the main city where we'll stay in tonight. It's definitely the beginning of where we need to start out but it starts getting tricky after this." He pointed to another spot, but from this angle it was hard to tell what she was looking at. "This is Livingston, about a day's walk, day and a half depending on the weather. It's a smaller town but we can get the majority of our supplies there. It'll be cheaper because they don't really get any tourists from the resort."
Two things threw Helga off: one, he sounded so sure about this Livingston place. And two, there was a resort?
Arnold continued, oblivious to Helga's internal confusion, and pointed to another spot which she could only assume was a town. "This is Hamilton and is about two days from Livingston and kind of where the dead-ends keep happening. There are three main roads leading out of this town, and four more minor ones. That's it. They have all led to either other towns or villages not on the map or to overgrown jungle. The more I read this journal and the more I read the map, the more I'm convinced that everything my dad put on this map is supposed to point to something. There are larger towns that were definitely around when Mom and Dad were here, and he even mentions them in his journal, but they did not make it onto the map. So even though there's no direct route, it seems obvious to me that these towns are the trail itself."
Helga was silent as she looked at the map, having no reason to not agree about the cookie crumb trail. It did seem that way, but there was still something about it that threw the whole thing off. She turned her head a couple of different ways, wondering if she could catch something different but her attention kept drifting to Rio Claro, the main river that ran dead center through the map, leading to the "Unknown" area to the far left.
She was really too tired to think too much about it, though. Exhausted from freaking out about falling-apart planes and lack of real food had been getting to her and if she had trouble thinking before, she was dead now with all of this damned humidity.
"What were they doing out there anyway?"
"My mom was a part of an archeology expedition when she and Dad met. He was bringing medical help to remote towns. They were both doctors."
"Huh. So that explains why you're such a goody-two-shoes then," she smirked, still looking down at the map.
Arnold let out a soft, breathy laugh that sent shivers down her arms. "I'm not quite the Pollyanna you've always accused me of being."
"Oh please, Football Head. Short of telling me you've killed a man, I can't believe you've done anything bad in your entire life."
The topic dropped as they spotted the cab driving down the road. "Finally!"
The ride into the city was quiet. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either. The driver spoke broken English and tried to engage them as they journeyed on, but both were giving him short answers. They were here for pleasure. No they weren't on their honeymoon. No, they hadn't planned any excursions or tours. Yes, they would be careful in certain areas of the city and wouldn't go into the jungle on their own.
At first Helga was confused as to why Arnold didn't offer the real reason but with the way Arnold was sitting, straight and tense, looking out the window, it seemed more than obvious that he didn't want to talk about it with this stranger. She could understand the reason on wanting things to stay private and so didn't offer any arguments.
The Multiplaza was huge. She was shocked as they drove up to see this immense resort. This is exactly what she had been planning to stay at in Hawai'i and not even remotely close to what she was expecting in San Lorenzo…especially after that experience with the airport. As Arnold checked in, she looked at the amenities: spa, three pools, including a pool bar, a gym, another spa, a couple of restaurants, and lots of reasons to relax. She grinned. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
Arnold called her over to the counter so she could give them her passport. "They have a few suites available, but I got one with two queens to save money since we're just here for the night. I hope that's ok."
Oh, yeah. So much for relaxing. But at least they had a bank located on the ground floor so it wasn't like they were going to have to go too far out. And their supplies would be purchased at the next town so that still left time for at least a night swim.
She handed it to the woman behind the counter but responded to Arnold. "Whatever. It's not like you're going to sleep naked."
The smirk he sent her shocked her to her core and stuck with her for the rest of the day.
They separated, she going to get two more pairs of pants, a backpack to replace her roller (which she gave away to a kid on the street), some thick socks, and the best pair of hiking boots she could find, while Arnold went off doing who-knew-what. She didn't ask and he didn't offer. So, she went shopping and found lunch on her own.
It had been absolutely delicious! Empanadas and fried red snapper surrounded by plantain chips and rice. She had forgotten how good real food was that didn't sit in a pantry for years, full of processed who-knows-whats.
Helga had never been one to shop, not really prescribing to the "Retail Therapy" that most of her gender ate up, so it was no surprise to her that she found herself alone in the shared room by three in the afternoon, wondering what there was to do next. She had packed up her new bag, putting the two containers of bug spray and a couple of water bottles at the top for easy access, and the remainder of her cash and passport at the bottom.
It was uncomfortable knowing that she was carrying around so much, but there was nothing she could do about it. And if she played her cards right, based off the prices she had paid today, she'd probably be able to last a whole month plus some without having to use her card. She smiled at the thought that she really was able to just slip away from her life in the states.
Although…she really should send Phoebe an email. Helga really didn't think she would notice her gone until next week, after she got back home from Japan, but once she did realize she had gone 'missing', she'd probably send out the Army, Navy, Marines and anyone else to try to find her. Although small, that girl was mighty and a force to be reckoned with once she set her mind on something. Helga had only been in the negative once with her best friend of twenty years, and it had been one time too many.
Looking at the clock, she realized only ten minutes had passed by and there was no way she was going to just sit here in the room and wait for Arnold to come back. She had passed by the gym on the way up so that sounded like a great place to start. Then maybe a swim after that, and since she knew she'd be ravenous afterwards, a huge helping of dinner. Hoping that the humidity would die down by that time, she donned on her workout top and shorts, slipping the green-gemmed necklace she never took off inside her sports bra, and proceeded to the work out area.
Just as she predicted, three hours later, she was sitting in the patio area with a frozen drink in one hand and a mound of delicious, fresh ceviche in front of her. She couldn't remember anything tasting so fresh before, and she couldn't stop eating even after she was no longer hungry. She didn't really indulge in food much, but with as much walking and hiking that she knew was going to be engaging in for at least the next week, she was planning on putting in as many empty calories as she could tonight.
And she most definitely would be indulging in some dessert. But first, she had to at least walk off some of the dinner. The resort was fairly empty, which she kind of thought as odd for the beginning of summer and for such a large resort, but something she was glad to take advantage of.
With no one in the gym, there had only been an older couple in the water when she had gone swimming, doing laps around the donut-shaped pool. It had been eerie swimming there; it felt like someone was watching her. But every time she passed the couple, they were too busy talking to themselves and she couldn't see anyone else on the patio.
And if it was the couple watching her, she no doubt knew they were wondering why she was here by herself. On the rare occasion she did do any sort of traveling, it had always been by herself. She had her fair share of ignorant comments from people of all generations about 'how dangerous it was to travel alone', and 'why didn't she have a boyfriend,' and 'she would be so much prettier if she smiled more.' It was all bullshit and, while she had gotten tired of hearing the same crap and didn't bother saying anything anymore, she more often than not put them in their place. Why were people always so bothered about everyone else that they couldn't figure out how to make their own lives happy first?
So, after leaving the pool more annoyed than she wished she was because her mood had done a whole 180 after that scrumptious dinner.
Apart from the rinse off after working out, she had not yet taken a shower. But first was a quick stop at the Business Area to send off an email to Phoebe.
Five minutes later, she was still staring at a blank email. She had no idea just what to say, but one thing was for sure, she did not want her to know that she was with Arnold. She knew that Phoebe was active on Facebook and kept in touch with a lot of people that she had forgotten about, but she didn't know just what information was already circling on there about Arnold and San Lorenzo. For all she knew, there was nothing, but she definitely didn't want to allow for-
Helga stopped typing mid-way through her letter. Why did it even matter that she didn't want Phoebe to know about Arnold? She wasn't in high school anymore. There wasn't going to be any teasing or sly comments. And so what if she was with him on some crazy expedition? And, if anything did happen to her, she really should tell someone where she was. But now the question was, did Arnold want anyone to know?
With a sigh of defeat, she erased everything and jotted down a quick note about deciding to go backpacking in San Lorenzo after literally being hit with a big sign after talking to Dr. Burger (true), was currently at La Jolla Royal, but would be leaving tomorrow morning with a guide (also true) and would hopefully find some temples (definitely true), so she didn't know when she would have internet access again. Please don't tell anyone, and if she didn't surface again in a month, to only worry then. But don't send the military until after at least two months.
She had sent it with a snicker, hoping Phoebe would appreciate the joke. Probably not. Sometimes, Phoebe was just too serious.
Helga paused in the lobby when that unsettling feeling of being watched again washed down her back. The only other person was the chick behind the counter and she was on the phone, checking on someone's reservation. Peering out the windows, it was too hard to tell, but nothing immediately stood out to her.
She shook her head and pulled the towel tighter on the back of her neck. This was just stupid.
She ignored the feeling all the way to her floor and when she walked into the room, but found that it continued to follow her into the shower.
But she pushed this feeling aside, knowing that it was impossible for anyone to be following her under the warm stream of water, and furiously washed her hair. If the movies had taught her anything about hiking in the jungle, she knew that she wouldn't come across plumbing any time soon.
Not that she entirely expected to go out into no-man's land…exactly. No doubt there'd be times she would have to make do without modern conveniences, but surely they'd be staying in some sort of hotel.
Well, motel…or hut, or something.
The unbidden image of a man wearing bones around his neck and human scalps hanging from his hip assaulted her and she shuddered in the shower. That was obviously a Hollywood stereotype but it was still unnerving.
Shutting off the water, Helga let out a soft sigh. Even if the sensation didn't go away, at least she was sweat and grime free and so was definitely feeling somewhat better. She towel-dried her hair before wrapping it around her middle, her necklace lying on top to air dry.
Padding out into the room to change for the night, Helga absently wondered when Arnold would be back from doing whatever he was doing. A quick look at the clock confirmed that it was close to seven; they'd been apart for going on six hours now. Just what the hell was he doing, and where was he?
Her clothes were there on the bed she had claimed earlier, looking very inviting. After the long day of traveling and preparing for who-knows-what for the next countless amount of days, she longed to curl up on a – hopefully – amazing mattress.
Before she could reach her clothes though, she felt a sudden chill rush down her spine. It was so sudden and forceful, she froze, trying to figure out what it was. A tremor shot through her again and she arched with a gasp, unable to move her arms or legs. Panic swelled inside of her, her head jerking back and she couldn't breathe. Her vision narrowed and tunneled until the room was no more and she was surrounded by darkness.
Then, just as sudden as the stasis hit her, she was released with a flash of light and heat. The change was a shock to her system and she collapsed to her knees, choking and gagging as her body regained awareness. She allowed herself only a moment before scrambling to her feet and looking around, instantly recognizing that it was no longer night and she was not in the hotel room.
Anxiety fueled her as she spun around, taking in the field of red flowers with purple and yellow spots. They surrounded her as if trying to soothe her and…welcome her? Her heart beat fast and hard in her breast and no matter how hard she tried, she could not catch her breath.
Where the fuck am I?
Helga stumbled backwards, still trying to process how she was in the hotel room only moments ago and was now very obviously in a field during the day.
"Helga!"
Her name seemed to echo around her and she spun around again, not seeing anyone or anything other than the flowers and the trees in the near distance. Not so faintly, she could hear the roar of water and a light tinkling of something, but her over-processed mind couldn't identify it.
She felt a ghost of a touch on her arms and her breath hitched as she looked down, not able to see anything.
"Helga!"
The voice was louder, but still unidentifiable. It was so muted she couldn't even recognize the gender. Her legs wouldn't cooperate; instead of running, they seemed rooted, unwilling to flee. She had to get out of here!
The touch on her arm was back, but this time when she looked down and saw that the flowers had attached themselves to her, wrapping around her arm. They tugged, forcing her towards that roaring noise. She yanked and tried to scream, but remained mute. They tugged harder and then, just like that, it started to rain.
She gasped and looked up towards the sky. But instead of blue and clouds, she saw white. Her eyes stung from the water and she sputtered, trying to block the water from her face. Suddenly, her hand hit something hard and she struggled to stand (when the hell had she fallen down?), trying to grab onto anything.
Helga hacked, the cough burning deep in her chest. Just as quickly as it had started, the rain stopped and she blinked, only having a second to realize that she was in the shower stall of the hotel room and not in the field of weird-colored flowers.
Strong hands gripped the top of her arms and she was standing. Her hands unconsciously found themselves on a hard chest to balance herself and suddenly she was staring into green eyes.
"Are you alright?"
Helga could only nod dumbly at Arnold's question, still blinking the dripping water away and willing her rapid heart to settle. Dimly she realized she was still in her towel, thoroughly soaked.
"What the hell was that?"
Helga could only open her mouth and close it, not having the words to explain it because she didn't know herself. She was in a freaking field in the middle of the day just moments ago and now she was here, water dripping off of her and she had no idea what was happening.
Arnold was frowning at her, obviously searching her face for some sort of answer.
"Yeah…" her voice was scratchy and she cleared it. "I don't…I'm not sure what happened."
"You were standing in the middle of the room like you were in some trance. I called you and shook you, but there was no one home." They were silent for a moment, Arnold still looking at her, alarm still very evident on his face, before he released her arms.
"Are you ok?" he asked again and placed a dry towel over her shoulders.
She nodded, clutching the towel to her. Later she would wonder how the first one had stayed in place for so long, especially after she had been dumped in the shower.
"Has it happened before?"
She shook her head. Never. She had never experienced anything like that before. Not only had she blacked out for a few minutes, she had been carried from one room into another and probably dumped into a shower. How had she not woken up?
As she dried off and finally changed into her nightclothes, Arnold having left shortly before, she decided that she was never going to eat empanadas and red snapper again. That creepy feeling had started around that time, right?
She scoffed as she toweled her hair again. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together; she probably just ate some bad fish and hallucinated. It wouldn't be the first time she had some weird, bad reaction to food before.
Arnold walked in shortly after Helga tossed both towels in the corner of the bathroom. He handed her a cup of tea, and even though she didn't normally drink the stuff, she took it appreciatively.
"We should get to bed, soon. We're going to have to get up early. I ran into a delivery guy taking a shipment of stuff to Livingston and he's going to put the word out that we're going to need a guide so hopefully there'll be someone waiting for us when we get there."
Helga rolled her eyes as she sipped the tea. Of course they had to hike instead of joining said delivery dude and getting a ride there. "Last time I went to bed this early I had food poisoning." The irony was not lost on her with that one.
Arnold just gave her a strange look, yet again, as he watched her turn down her bed before starting to go through his backpack for his own pair of fresh clothes. "I never thought nine as being early, but whatever you say, Helga."
Helga froze and snapped her eyes to the clock. Sure enough, it was almost a quarter after nine. But…hadn't it been seven after she had gotten out of the shower? Surely she hadn't been standing there for over two hours! A shiver of unease rolled down her back and she shrugged it off. "Oh…guess it's just later than I thought."
She didn't fall asleep until after Arnold had showered and fallen asleep himself.
Just what the hell had she gotten herself into?
They left at dawn, neither talking about what had happened just a few hours ago in the room. Helga didn't really know what to say about it so she didn't bring it up, still not having told him what she had seen. He didn't ask about it, though, and she was grateful. She wasn't sure what she would tell him if he did.
The walk started without any conversation, just the most necessary of words exchanged. The weather was stifling and she was willing to bet that it was even more humid today than it was yesterday. The boots she bought had not been broken in and so were killing her feet; she was sweating in areas that she had no idea was able to sweat, and she had more cuts on her from the last five hours than she had in the last five years.
And then, on top of that, Helga's thoughts continued to take her to what happened in the hotel room. No matter how hard she tried to redirect them, they always strayed back to the funky colored flowers and water.
So, in an act of desperation, Helga was the one to break the silence. "You sure do know your way around for someone who hasn't been here before."
She surprised herself when that came out. Truthfully, she had no idea what she was going to say when she opened her mouth, but it definitely hadn't been that. But as soon as she said it, she realized just how true that was.
Arnold didn't stagger or seem to be affected by the accusation and instead shifted his backpack to rest higher on his shoulders. "I never said this was my first time."
Helga gaped at his back. "What? Are you serious?"
"Yeah. I've actually been here six times now."
After her initial shock, she suddenly grew angry. "What the hell, Football Head! You made it sound like this was wild goose chase, not a pointless mission!"
He looked over his shoulder at her, not slowing his pace. "Would it have changed anything?"
"Of course it would!" The humidity and pain in her feet fueled her irritation. "I would have talked you out of it. No wonder your gramps thought you were crazy."
"That was Gerald."
"Whatever!" She kicked a rock, sending it spiraling off the path. That comment from yesterday made all the more sense now. He had been to this place before and had no doubt been to those other towns, too, so he had first-hand experience. She didn't know why she was so upset about it, though. He was right. He never did actually say this was his first time here and it wouldn't have made a difference in her coming, anyway. A few minutes later she kicked another rock out of the way, this time with less enthusiasm.
They arrived into town with quite the greeting that night around nine. It helped that they had only stopped once for a hasty lunch. Arnold had been quick to point out that if they stopped too long, their muscles would lock up and they definitely wouldn't be able to cover much more ground and would have to camp out that night. It didn't sound too appealing to Helga. If she could get one more night on a mattress, she'd take it. Her feet could rest then.
Kids surrounded Arnold and two things struck her as she watched him interact with them: one, he was obviously well-liked here and she wondered just how long those "six times" had lasted. These kids had history with the football-headed dweeb and it was more than just a few hours of playing futbol. And two: Arnold was speaking almost accent-free Spanish. And here she thought her role was to play translator.
But, had he actually said that? In fact, it was difficult to remember exactly how that conversation had gone. He had asked for help but didn't say exactly what help was needed. Just what the hell was she doing here?
An older man greeted them in English but Helga stayed a couple steps behind, feeling more annoyed than ever with this situation. She almost missed introductions but, really, she knew she wasn't going to remember anyone's name by morning. The feeling of being duped or tricked into coming was eating at her and she was just...well, she was hangry. Her stomach was virtually empty and all she wanted right now was a meal and a place to take off these awful boots.
Something had to be listening to her mental anguish because they were suddenly ushered into someone's house and forced down at a table. Food was suddenly in front of her and it took all of her willpower to remember proper etiquette, as she had never had the need to really put it into practice. Even though she was pissed at Arnold, she would not embarrass him in front of people who obviously liked him.
Before she realized it, the meal was over and she was ushered into a room that obviously belonged to the couple that had just fed them. She was too tired to think of the awkwardness of sleeping in their bed and, even if she wasn't, it would have been insulting to them to refuse.
Helga eagerly kicked off her shoes and slipped on her pajamas. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
The smell of breakfast roused her reluctantly out of bed. Although she had fallen asleep alone and woken up the same, she absently wondered if Arnold had slept next to her, based on the look of the other half of the small bed. There was no sign of him sleeping anywhere else in the room and she really doubted that he had slept on the floor without some sort of blanket.
And if he had slept next to her, she had been too dead to realize it. Damn.
With a groan, she rolled out of bed and made it as best as she could before changing. Her feet complained when they were slipped into the boots but she ignored them, letting her stomach guide her to the kitchen. Arnold was sitting there with Sr. Gonzalez (she thought his name was Roberto) as a kid about one crawled around the floor at their feet. Sra. Gonzalez was bent over the stove with a baby in a sling at her back.
"¡Buenos días, senora! I hope that you slept well!" Oh god...she couldn't deal with peppy right now.
"Yeah, great, thanks. Mornin'," she replied in English and shuffled to a seat and slumped into it, knowing it wasn't a very polite answer but not really caring right now. Her stomach grumbled and she rubbed her face with her hand, still trying to wake up. As she did, she caught Arnold's look of disapproval and she scowled at him.
"What?" He gave her a pointed look, one she had grown so used to growing up, but didn't say anything and went back to his…porridge or whatever that was. But it did look delicious.
Helga mentally groaned in annoyance. Fucking Arnold and his goody-two-shoes attitude. She had been polite last night, hadn't she? Of course, last night she had been out of it but she had made it a point to not embarrass him and had succeeded. Now that she was not quite so dead on her feet, her lucidity was making for a not-so-good impression.
But just as she was about to spout pleasantries, there was a knock on the door. A moment later, Roberto ushered in a man probably in his early to mid-forties, holding his hat in front of him.
"Mister Arnold, my name is Javier. Juan Carlos has told me that you are looking for a companion in your journey during his delivery. I have worked with Juan Carlos many times bringing supplies to the villages and towns and so maybe I can be assistance to you."
Oh yeah…Arnold had mentioned something about a tour guide. Looks like he found one.
Thank you so much to DarkUnderworld for being so awesome! She's not in this fandom and still rocks with help and ideas.
And thanks to you, readers! I am so bad about updating but hopefully I can at least get this one finished. It is half way written and the rest all planned out. Just got to get it written down.
