Operation: Whatever

XX

Sunlight poured in through slits as Helga began to wake, squinting through her crusted eyelids. The alarm clock screamed like a banshee on the end table until she slapped it across the room. It was the morning of the art show. Helga stretched her arms out with a yawn. Last night had done quite a number on her.

Helga tried to forget about last night's dreams of public humiliation, Arnold pointing and laughing at her, Principal Wartz revoking her award and giving first place to Olga. Helga old girl, she thought to herself – today is the day of action. Just keep your head on straight, and everything will work out.

The night before, Helga had set the alarm clock to go off a little early so she wouldn't be in a hurry to get to school today. She grabbed her journal from her dresser drawer and began to make a few notes, still struggling to wake up. Helga liked to write a little bit about her dreams, perhaps jot down a few scraps of poetry; sometimes her half-waking state was her most creative time.

After finishing her writing, Helga placed the journal on her dresser and rolled herself out of bed. She stumbled across the room, half-walking and half-crawling on the floor until she opened her closet door. Inside was a simple, makeshift substitute shrine to Arnold. The real one was currently being held hostage by the Caulfield Academy of the Arts, but Helga needed some kind of replacement sacred object on which to focus her attention. Still in her pajamas, Helga turned on the Christmas lights surrounding the crude altar and prostrated herself before it.

"Oh Arnold, hear me now," she began to chant, "guide me in my quest to steal your sacred sculpture before my classmates find out my deepest feelings for you! Give me the strength to undo my horrible mistake, and I will never let your sacred image leave my closet again! Except when I need to clean it or add a few feathers or something!"

Helga writhed on the ground for a moment, lost in a paroxysm of pious passion. Finishing her worship at the altar of Arnold, Helga stood back up, closed the closet door, and walked over to her phone. She still had a few minutes left before she needed to begin getting ready for class, and she decided she would give a certain someone a piece of her mind. Helga picked up the phone and dialed a number.

The phone rang for a long time, but finally someone picked up. "Hello?" came a female voice.

"Hey, Dr. Bliss? It's Helga."

"Oh, hello Helga. It's a little early to be calling me at home, don't you think?"

"Um, sure. Do you remember how you told me to enter that art contest?"

"Oh yes. I'm glad you did, Helga."

"Well, guess what? I won first place."

"Helga, that's wonderful-"

"I won first place by sending in the three foot tall shrine of Arnold's head that I keep in my closet."

The voice on the other end of the line was silent.

"And they're holding an art show at my school," continued Helga, her voice steadily rising, "where my shrine will be displayed for everyone to see. I'll be a laughing stock! But don't worry, I'll be taking care of things, no thanks to you. Competing in an art contest, huh? Some idea that was! What am I paying you for, anyway?"

"Helga," replied Dr. Bliss, "you're not paying me."

"Oh, sure. Use reason on me, why don't ya!"

A sigh came from the other end of the line. "You know, Helga, I suggested you enter the contest, but I didn't tell you what to enter. You were the one who decided to send your shrine to Arnold in as your entry. I wonder why you chose to do that?"

"I dunno! It was my best work. Nobody could turn that thing down, it's a total winner. What are you getting at, doc?"

"Well, I find it interesting that you took something so personal, so secret, and made it so public. I wonder if you're feeling ready to let Arnold know how you feel. Maybe, consciously or not, you want Arnold to see how you feel?"

Helga felt her anger dissipate a little. Perhaps Dr. Bliss had a point. Helga remembered her first appointment with the psychologist, when she had opened up about how she felt about Arnold; it had been a liberating experience. But then again, the thought of Arnold – along with her whole class – seeing the very embodiment of her unrelenting obsession did not make her feel liberated. Quite the contrary. It made her feel like she wanted to hurl.

"No, I don't think so, Dr. Bliss. I think I just made a big mistake. And now I have to go fix it."

Helga slammed the phone down on the dresser beside her journal. Her next session would probably be a bit awkward, but never mind that. Helga needed to vent a little. Now that she had gotten it off her chest, it was time for her to get ready for the day ahead.

XX

"Now, class, could we please settle down? I have an important announcement to make!"

Mr. Simmons' pleas fell on deaf ears. His own ear was nearly stabbed by the pointy end of a passing paper airplane, but the fourth grade teacher weaved sideways, narrowly avoiding an earlobe paper cut. The class was being very rowdy today; probably because it was the end of the week, he supposed.

"Please, children! Let's all get it together, okay?"

Everyone in the class ignored him except for Arnold, who sat attentively at his desk with a smile. Mr. Simmons jumped at the sound of a piercing scream. Judging by the way Rhonda had just jumped out of her desk, he had to assume that Curly was invading her personal space again. Mr. Simmons noticed that Helga was being unusually quiet despite the behavior of the rest of her classmates. He hadn't seen Helga throw a single spitball at Arnold, although she was staring at him about as intensely as she usually did.

Another paper airplane passed by overhead, and Mr. Simmons decided enough was enough.

"Children!"

The class fell silent, shocked by his outburst.

"Thank you, children. Isn't that peace and quiet just wonderful?" Mr. Simmons beamed at his students, who stared blankly in reply. "As I was saying, I have a very special announcement to make. As I'm sure some of you are well aware, seeing as it's been all over the local news, but the Caulfield Academy of the Arts has been running an art competition for the past few weeks. And guess that - they'll be hosting a very special art show right here in our school!"

The blank stares continued, with the exception of a nod from Arnold. Mr. Simmons soldiered on. "And what's more, our very own Helga G. Pataki submitted the first place contest entry!"

A number of students gasped as Helga sank a little lower in her seat.

"Helga?" laughed Harold. "An artist? That's a good one!"

"I assure you Harold, Helga is a very talented young lady. I always look forward to reading her heartfelt poetry about-" Mr. Simmons noticed Helga staring daggers at him, which derailed his train of thought. "Um, anyway, the Academy will be arriving here at P.S. 118 later this afternoon to set up their art show, at the end of which we'll get to hear a special speech from Helga and the other winners. I know it's a Friday, and you're all raring to go frolic in the park and what have you, but I'd just love it if you could all attend the show and give Helga your support! What do you say, kids?"

The class was silent. Somewhere outside, a dog barked.

"There's going to be free food."

The silence was broken as Harold leaped up from his desk and let out a whoop of excitement. No one else gave any response.

"I'll give you all extra credit?"

The class exploded in cheers and applause.

XX

Helga shut her locker door and looked around for Phoebe as a stream of classmates passed her by. She was in no hurry to catch the bus. Before leaving in the morning, Helga had told her mother that she needed to stay after school to do some work, and that she would catch them later at the art show. She wasn't even sure if her mother heard her, or if either of her parents would care if she failed to come home before the show, but Helga made the excuse just in case. Now, she and Phoebe would have to wait around until the Caulfield Academy arrived to set up the art show.

"Why hello Helga," said Lila as she walked by. "I'm just ever so happy that you got first place in the art contest. You must feel wonderful!"

"Yeah, I'm on cloud nine," scoffed Helga.

"I reckon you must be one of them artsy fartsy types," said Stinky, joining the conversation. "Me, I never had no knack for that sorta thing. My auntie tried to teach me whittlin', but it was no use. I just kept accidentally whittlin' my finger!"

"Oh Stinky, that's just delightful," laughed Lila. "Well, goodbye Helga. I suppose I'll see you at the art show!"

"Whatever."

Stinky and Lila headed for the school doors as Helga caught sight of Phoebe approaching. She gave her best friend a wave. Phoebe caught up as Helga exited the school doors, taking the sidewalk instead of getting on the school bus.

"I think we should hang around the dumpsters by the playground until we catch these jokers coming to set up the art show. Once they get here, we can-"

Helga turned a corner, about to enter the school playground to reach the dumpsters, when she ran smack into Arnold. Both of them knocked each other to the ground. Helga stared at her secret love, feeling tender emotions welling up in her heart.

"Arnold! I..."

She smacked herself in the face.

"I mean, watch where you're going, football head!"

"Sorry Helga. Mr. Simmons asked me to put away all the kickballs on the playground before I went home." Arnold picked his fallen books up off the ground and stood back up. "Congratulations on winning that contest, Helga! I'm really looking forward to seeing what you made at the art show this afternoon."

"Yeah, you can count on that," laughed Helga. "Come on, Phoebe. Let's go hide behind the dump-" she noticed Arnold staring and paused. "Er, play some hopscotch. Later, football head!"

Arnold did not answer, as he was already sprinting towards the school bus in order to flag it down before it left. His undulating cornflower hair put Helga into a trance, swaying in the wind as her beloved ran away from her. Helga sighed dreamily. Someday, Arnold would know her true feelings.

But definitely not today.

XX

Phil came down the boarding house stairway, having just finished repairing the mold damage to the wallpaper in Mr. Hyunh's room. It was a thankless job - literally, as Mr. Hyunh had been watching a soap opera the entire time and never said a word when Phil finished – but at least it wasn't Kokoshka's wallpaper. Phil knew that instead of giving him any thanks, Kokoshka would be bothering him about the groceries yet again. And if Phil heard that smarmy laugh one more time...

"Hey boys," he said, noticing Arnold and his cousin Arnie at the kitchen table. Arnie had arrived at the boarding house early that morning. "Thought you two were gonna go to that art show?"

"We're just about to, Grandpa. It starts in half an hour."

"Gotcha," said Phil. He opened the refrigerator, looking for a bite to eat, and found it was completely empty. Much to his surprise, Phil found himself wondering if maybe Kokoshka's incessant whining actually had a point for once.

"Do you want to come with us Grandpa?"

"Oh, I dunno Arnold," said Phil as he eyed Arnie, who was staring into space and blinking in a very unnerving way. On the one hand, Phil was happy to hear that Arnie had won second place in the contest, but on the other hand, it didn't mean he wanted to spend more time around the boy. There was no way around it – Arnie was just strange.

"You know, I think Pookie might get angry if I'm out for a night on the town and miss her dinner, Arnold. I guess I'd better stay here." Phil snickered to himself; it was an excellent excuse.

"That's right!" exclaimed Pookie, appearing at the kitchen's entrance. "I'm making raspberry cobbler for dessert, too. You'd better not miss it!"

"Oh boy," Phil muttered to himself. "That backfired on me."

"What backfired, Grandpa?"

"Oh, I'll be backfiring all night after I finish that raspberry cobbler, Arnold."

Everyone in the kitchen looked around in surprise at the sound of a quick drum roll and cymbal splash.

"What was that?" asked Arnold.

Grandpa pointed upwards. "Probably Ernie playing on his new drum set."

Arnie stood up from the table, standing stock still for a moment, and then pointed at the wall clock as Arnold and his grandfather watched him.

"It's time to go."

"Alright, Arnie." Arnold got up and headed towards the door with his cousin.

"Do you think we'll see Helga tonight," droned Arnie.

"I don't know. Probably."

"Gnnnk," snorted Arnie. "I hope so."

Arnold felt himself shudder involuntarily. Whether it was the thought of Arnie and Helga together, or just the thought of Arnie in general, he couldn't be sure.

Arnold was shocked to find himself hoping Lila would not be the art show. At least not if she was going to be hanging on Arnie the whole time – the sight of them just got on his nerves. He also hoped that Gerald would keep him company instead of spending too much time talking to Phoebe, which he seemed to do at social events sometimes. With his cousin hanging around, Arnold needed whatever distractions he could get.

XX

Helga peered out from behind the dumpster. Several vehicles had just pulled up to the front of the school, one of which looked like a large moving van. It was time for their daring art heist to go into effect. Partly because their target had arrived, but partly because the stench wafting out of the dumpsters was starting to get nauseating.

"Alright Phoebe, it's go time."

"Okay. One moment, please!"

Phoebe unzipped her backpack and pulled out what looked like an extra set of clothing. As Helga watched, her friend began putting on a new shirt and a pair of pants over what she was already wearing. A flashing glint caught Helga's eye as she looked down at Phoebe's open backpack. A fencing foil was sticking out of it.

"What the heck, Phoebe? Why do you have a sword? And what's with the outfit?"

"We're going undercover, aren't we?" asked Phoebe as she fastened a black mask to her face. "I had the costume from that party Rhonda threw, so I thought I'd put it to use! It is almost exciting, isn't it?" she said with a laugh as she pulled the sword from her backpack and gave it a few test swings.

"What are you, a ninja?"

Phoebe frowned at the question. "Just because of my Japanese ancestry, you assume I am a ninja?"

"Um, no? Because of the ninja mask and the sword, Phoebe. Doi!"

Phoebe frowned. "Oh, I see. Well, no, I'm not a ninja - I'm a swashbuckler!"

Helga rolled her eyes, although she was wondering if she should have brought her own costume. Maybe the two of them hadn't planned the heist very well.

Helga took another glance at the vehicles parked in front of the school. Several burly men were unloading tables, plaques, and large cardboard boxes on dollies. They pulled the dollies up the front steps and wheeled them into the school. Helga figured the boxes had to contain the art contest entries for the show. There was no way to tell which one was hers; they would have to sneak into the school and wait until the boxes were opened and the artwork put on display.

"Helga, maybe we should have been hiding inside the school this whole time," said Phoebe as she watched the unloading. "How are we going to get inside without being seen?"

Helga smiled as she looked up at the school's roof. She had gotten enough experience from sneaking into Arnold's boarding house to know how to infiltrate a building without being seen. That, and it helped to watch a few spy movies.

"We'll be dropping in. Now come on, Phoebe." Helga pulled her friend from behind the dumpsters, dashing across the playground and past the jungle gym towards the utility ladder that led to the school's roof. "It's time to implement Operation – uh – okay, what were we calling this operation again?"

"I don't believe we talked about calling it anything, Helga."

Helga felt a bit disappointed. Having a cool name seemed like one of the most important parts of the operation, but it was too late for that now.

"Rrrgh. Whatever. It's time to steal my art back!"

XX

Notes - Thanks for all the reviews so far guys, they've been very encouraging. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next up: the art show!

Kind of amusing actually, I just re-watched the episode "Curly's Girl" yesterday and there is an art show very briefly at the beginning of that episode which I totally forgot about. So I guess maybe P.S. 118 hosts a lot of art shows, hehehe.