Chapter #3: The Story of Helga G. Pataki (Part One)


Author's Notes: Hey guys! Long time no see! Sorry for the long wait! This chapter took way longer than I was expecting. If you're reading this now, thank you so much for sticking around to read this chapter, and also, thanks to those who've left favorites/reviews/alerts on this story. All of your words and support have been very encouraging, and are always a joy to read.

Okay . . . so, originally, I was planning on having this chapter as one long chapter, but after seeing the length(a little over 20,000 words, which is 52 pages), I have decided to divide the chapter into two parts to give you guys a breather.

Key information about this chapter—a lot happens and I mean A LOT, so get ready. Things escalate very quickly, people get mad, arguments get had, and there are quite a few discoveries in this chapter. This is also the chapter where we see the antics of Arnold's eccentric family, Arnold's date with Lila, and how the Patakis adjust to life at the Boarding House.

I wish you guys a happy reading, and I hope you enjoy it! As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!

And a BIG thanks to songfire15 for being my beta!


At 9a.m., Arnold's alarm clock sprang to life. "HEY ARNOLD! HEY ARNOLD! HEY ARNOLD! HEY ARNOLD!" the clock blared continuously. Arnold remained fast asleep, a content smile on his face. Helga, on the other hand, was painfully aware of the offending noise. Groaning, she groggily threw a pillow cushion at it. Unfortunately, the pillow ended up socking Arnold in the face. The impact startled Arnold awake. He sat up abruptly, blinking twice. Upon seeing the pillow cushion, he shot an annoyed look at the blonde girl attempting to sleep on the couch.

"Hey! Watch it!" he shouted. He reached over and shut off the blaring alarm clock.

Helga turned over so that she was facing Arnold. "Oh, sorry for ruining your precious slumber, Sleeping Beauty," she replied with sarcasm.

Arnold sat up on his bed, rubbing his eyes. "I needed to get up anyways," he said. "Grandma usually complains when I'm not there on time to help set the table for breakfast."

"Great. You do that. I, on the other hand, am going back to bed." Helga replied, pulling the covers over her face.

He sighed. 'It's just for two weeks,' he reminded himself. With that in mind, he rose up from his bed and headed out the door.

After a few moments of silence, Helga opened one eyelid to find the room empty. 'He's gone. Now's my chance,' she thought. She got up from the couch and walked over to Arnold's desk. 'He must have something here that I can use for my collection,' she thought, her eyes scanning the contents of his desk. She rummaged through his supplies until a blue notebook caught her eyes.

PROPERTY OF ARNOLD. KEEP OUT.

She rolled her eyes. 'Oh, brother. He actually keeps a diary in here? No wonder the kid's a softie. What next?' she thought. Curiosity piqued, she snagged the notebook, keeping it hidden underneath her arm. 'I just have to know what goes on in that football head of his.'

She hoped that maybe, just maybe, the diary mentioned her name, and perhaps Arnold had held an inkling of something special, just for her. 'It's just an old book, anyways. He won't even know it's missing.'

As she began to walk out of the room, she saw Arnold's bed occupying the space off to the side. Her eyes focused on the soft pillow carrying the delicious aroma of Arnold's strawberry shampoo. 'Just one quick whiff and I swear I'm off the stuff for good,' she thought, walking over to his pillow and inhaling his scent. Her eyes rolled back in pure delight, her face holding a lopsided grin. She swooned.

"Um . . . what are you doing?" A familiar young boy's voice asked from the doorway.

"ARNOLD!" she exclaimed. Eyes widened, she spun around quickly to see the blonde haired boy looking back at her in confusion. Her face instantly turned a deep shade of red, her heart pounding in her chest. "I, uh . . . was just checking your bed for any bed bugs in the sheets hehe." She answered, flustered. 'Helga, you idiot! Why didn't you remember to at least shut the door before engaging in your usual lovesick acts?' she chided herself.

Arnold's eyes gave her a look of disbelief. He was not buying it. "Uh-huh . . . and you need my pillow because . . . .?" he replied, motioning to his pillow in her hands.

She looked down to the pillow still in her grasp. She quickly threw it down on the bed, laughing nervously.

His eyebrows knit together in concern. "Helga, what's going on? You're acting pretty strange today," he asked.

She crossed her arms. "Hmph. Strange?! You're the one who's acting strange, asking all these questions lately!" she accused.

She mimicked his voice. "'Helga, how do you know the place?' 'Helga, where am I to sleep?' 'Helga, why are you acting strange?' Geez, it's hard to get a break around here without feeling like I'm being pressured into acting a certain way."

She walked up to him until she was nose to nose with him. "Well, get it through that thick skull of yours already, Arnoldo. Helga G. Pataki lives by her rules and her rules alone. Got it?" she said, holding up a fist to him.

Arnold was not impressed. "Helga, I just caught you over here sniffing my pillow. I think I have a right to be a little concerned," he answered, placing his hands on his hips.

"So? I was sniffing a pillow. So what? Maybe I just felt like it, okay?" she countered.

He raised an eyebrow. "You felt like sniffing my pillow?" he questioned in disbelief.

She blushed. "What?! Are you deaf?"

Her words caused Arnold to remember their time on FTi after Helga confessed her feelings for him due to it supposedly being the heat of the moment. 'What? Are you deaf?!' she had said. He vividly recalled the feel of her lips on his. How good it felt to share that special moment together. He blushed.

"Arnold?" a distant voice called.

"Arnold?!"

"Hey Arnold!"

He shook his head. What just happened? Did he seriously just have a daydream about Helga a few moments ago? Helga's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Okay, now I know I'm not the one who's acting strange. What? Did someone suddenly take hold of your brain while I wasn't looking?" she asked.

'Yeah . . . you,' his brain automatically answered. Wait. What did he just think? 'I must be going insane. Did I just admit that Helga was on my mind? And why was she even on my mind?!' he thought.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, look, obviously we're both still a little tired from that fire yesterday. We just need to take a step back and agree to forget everything that just happened a few moments ago. Deal?" He reasoned.

'Both?' Helga thought. 'What does he mean by that?' "Fine, but I'll only agree on one condition," she replied.

"Fair enough," he answered. "What's the condition?"

"You tell me what was going through your mind just a few seconds ago."

He blushed. "Oh, I, uh . . . ." he answered, flustered.

" . . . And you better not lie. I'll be able to tell instantly," she asserted, watching him closely.

"Well, uh . . . ." he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Is this really that important, Helga?"

"Oh, I don't know, Football Head. You tell me." she responded with a smug grin.

"Well, you see . . . ." he stalled. 'What do I tell her?' he thought nervously.

She rolled her eyes. "Look, just spit it out already. What were you thinking about?!"

"Helga, can't we just—" he tried.

"ARNOLD!" she shouted.

"—YOU!" he shouted back, his voice echoing around the room.

Helga's eyes widened two whole sizes.

Realizing the implications of what he just said, he continued quickly. "Look, Helga. It's not what you think. It was just a faint memory back to the time we were on FTi during the heat of the moment, and I guess I got a little carried away and—"

Helga's mind tuned him out. She was floored. 'He thought of THAT?!' she thought, her eyebrow raised in surprise.

As Arnold continued explaining, his eyes caught sight of a familiar item underneath Helga's arm. "Hey! What's that thing under your arm?!" he asked, pointing to the blue notebook in question.

Following his line of vision, Helga immediately stiffened, knowing exactly what he was referring to. She decided to play dumb. "Thing? What thing?" she asked, looking around nervously. She hid the notebook behind her back.

Arnold gave her a half-lidded look, knowing her trick. "Helga, I just saw you hide that same blue thing I was talking about behind your back."

"Look football head . . . I, uh, don't know what you're talking about but whatever it is, it's not any of your business," she said, trying to feign anger, but nerves were making her unbelievable. She looked around nervously for an out.

He sighed, trying a new tactic. "Okay. Fine. You don't have anything behind your back. But, just so that we're clear, could you please turn around and show me that you don't have anything?" he asked.

She gulped. "I, uh, can't." she said.

"Why not?"

"Well . . . why should I do anything you say anyways? Last time I checked, this isn't Simon says," she defended.

"Helga, it's my house, my rules. Now tell me what it is!" he demanded, walking closer to her. She started backpedaling, intimidated by his proximity.

"No, really, I don't know what you're talking about!" she said.

He inched closer till he was in her face.

Her eyes widened. "Seriously, paste for brains, if you don't stop, I'll—I'll—" she stopped short.

Arnold was now close enough to stare into her frightened blue eyes. She could feel his breath on her face. He placed a hand on her waist and the other behind her back and dipped her.

She yelped.

He gave her his half-lidded smile as he spoke in a sultry voice. "You'll do . . . what?" he asked.

She didn't answer. Her breath hitched in her throat. She felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

He took advantage of her distraction and reached behind her back and carefully slipped his fingers into her hands and grabbed the notebook.

"A-Arnold . . . what are you—"

"Relax, Helga. I'm only going to take a peek," he said, his sea-green eyes never leaving hers.

He placed the notebook in front of Helga's face. His eyes scanned the cover and saw just what Helga was carrying. His journal!

He immediately let her go and she fell to the floor with a thump.

"What the—! Arnold, have you lost your mind?!" she asked.

He ignored her. "Have you been going through my stuff?!" He asked in disbelief.

She was speechless. "I was just . . . ."

He cut her off. "I don't believe this! First, you barge into my room and take my bed. Then, you throw a pillow at me this morning when I was sleeping—"

"Hey! That was an accident," she argued.

"—and now, you go through my stuff and take something important from me, so that you can use it against me and treat me like your whipping boy!" he said.

"I knew you were the school bully, but I never thought someone like you could stoop so low as to try to steal from a person who's been nothing but a friend to you. Gerald was right. You're hopeless." With that, he began to walk out the door until Helga intercepted him, blocking the exit.

"Wait!" She said. She took a deep breath. "Please Arnold. Just hear me out. You have to believe me, I never meant to hurt you."

He crossed his arms. "Then why, Helga? Why did you decide to take my journal when it clearly says to 'keep out'?" He asked, his tone stern.

"I don't know! I just . . . I wanted to know more about you, okay?!" she exclaimed.

His green eyes widened in surprise at the revelation.

She sighed. "I know that I'm not always a nice person and I know that can make me a little hard to get along with, and I'm sorry because you don't deserve all of the things I've put you through. But all I've ever wanted was for you to acknowledge me, and when you saved me from that fire yesterday, I didn't know how to react. I was so happy that someone cared enough to rescue me, but I just didn't know how to repay you since I'm not used to anyone going out of their way for me. I thought that maybe if I learned a few things about you from reading your journal, then I could find something that we had in common and use that to talk to you more and become better friends," she explained.

"But, Helga, all you really had to do was ask me and I would've been more open to telling you things about me. You didn't have to take my journal," he responded.

"I know that, but I just can't do that," she said.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't!" She exclaimed. Then, she added a little softer. "I just can't. I have a stupid reputation to uphold."

"I don't understand. Why is having a reputation so important to you?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Helga shrugged his hand off, turning away from him. "Look," she started. "I promise not to take any more of your things without your permission. It was wrong of me to take your journal in the first place and I'm sorry. I hope that someday you'll be able to forgive me. And if it helps, I haven't read your journal yet." She turned around, facing him. "That's all I wanted to say."

With that, she moved aside to allow Arnold to leave if he wanted, and then walked back into the room, towards the couch.

Arnold turned around to see Helga packing up her stuff. He sighed, walking over to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Helga, wait. You don't have to go," he said.

She turned around in surprise, her blue eyes meeting his green. She raised an eyebrow. "I don't?" she asked.

He gave her a small smile, shaking his head. "I forgive you, Helga. I shouldn't have exploded at you like that. I guess I was just angry because my journal means so much to me." His smile faded, looking to the blue journal in his hands. "You see, my parents gave this journal to me when I was just a baby, and it's one of the only things I have to remember them by," he said.

Helga looked away sadly. "I had no idea that journal was so important to you. Sorry for taking it," she said softly.

"Yeah . . . ." he replied, looking over the journal thoughtfully. Then, his eyes turned to her. "But, I am happy that you told me the truth, Helga, and that's why I forgave you. And I meant what I said last night. We may have our ups and downs, but you and I will always be good friends."

Helga's face fell at this last line. She plopped down on the red couch. "Yeah . . . friends . . . ." she replied with less enthusiasm. No sooner had she said that, the couch flipped back into the wall, trapping Helga in the dark space. Arnold jumped in surprise.

"What the—! Help! Let me out!" Helga shouted, banging on the couch.

"Don't worry, Helga. I'll get you out in a second. I just have to find the remote for the couch," she heard Arnold's muffled response.

"Well, make it snappy, Football head! It smells like sweaty socks back here," she called back. She looked around at her surroundings. It was pitch black, but she could see a tiny sliver of light shining from Arnold's room through a crack in the wall. 'This sure brings back good ol' memories . . . .' she thought, reflecting back to the time she had to spend the night behind Arnold's couch in order to get her secret-spilling parrot back.

She was brought out of her reverie when the couch suddenly snapped back out of the wall, taking her with it. She was immediately sent airborne, her body crashing onto the carpet before Arnold. A pink notebook hit her in the head before hitting the carpet in front of her.

"Ow! Geez, warn a person the next time you decide to catapult them out of your wall, paste-for-brains," Helga said, rubbing her head.

"Sorry Helga. Are you okay?" Arnold asked, holding a hand out to her.

She took his hand, allowing him to help her up. "Yeah, but I think something hit me," she said. She looked down to find a pink notebook lying on the ground. She gasped, recognizing the book. 'Is that MY diary?' she thought in shock. She knelt down to pick it up, but was surprised when her hand fell on top of another. She looked up in surprise to find Arnold's green eyes staring back at her. They both retracted their hands, blushing.

"Uh, sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

She grabbed the notebook, standing back up again. Arnold stood up as well.

She shook the book in his face. "Since when do you like pink?" she asked in confusion. 'And most importantly, why the heck does he have my diary?' she thought.

"I can explain," he said.

"This outta be good . . ." Helga remarked, crossing her arms.

"It's just . . . I met this really pretty girl once at a restaurant on Valentine's Day. She pretended to be another person, just so that she could spend time with me. I wanted to ask her name, but she said she couldn't tell me." He stopped, having a faraway look in his eyes. "I never saw her again," he said.

Helga's eyes widened. 'He's talking about that night I pretended to be Cecile!' she thought.

He continued. "A few months before that, I found this pink diary on the school bus. It had no name on it, so Gerald and I spent some time trying to match up the handwriting with someone who might have been the owner. Bottom line: we couldn't figure out who owner the diary. But even though we couldn't find the owner of the diary, I couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe the diary belonged to that same girl I met on Valentine's Day. So I re-read the diary, hoping to learn some more things about her. I was really touched by what was in it. It makes me happy to know that someone took the time to write a whole diary about me. And it made me realize something," he said. He looked to Helga. "I actually think I might . . . like her-like her."

"Really Arnold?" she asked shyly, but then stopped herself remembering that Arnold didn't know the diary was hers. Part of her just wanted to fling her arms around him and proclaim that it was her diary and that she was the girl (or rather impersonator) who met him at dinner that night, but she thought better of it. Proclaiming all that would just make things even more confusing for Arnold. 'After all, he made it clear that he didn't want to have anything to do with a girl who goes around stalking him at night writing poetry and dedicating shrines to his likeness,' she thought.

She amended her earlier statement. "I-I mean, what about Lila? Don't tell me goody-two-shoe Arnold's now juggling two girls on his shoulder . . . . "

Arnold shook his head. "No, Helga. It isn't like that at all. Lila and I are just two good friends hanging out on Sunday night," he said.

Helga scoffed. "Hmph. Sounds like a date to me . . . ."

"Well, it isn't. And besides, I barely ever get to hang out with Lila."

"'Barely ever's' stretching it a bit, don't you think?" Helga replied, recalling the times Arnold and Lila went on dates together, but never 'date-dates'.

"It's true, Helga. I'm over Lila now and besides . . . she likes someone else now." Arnold said, a bit bitterly on the last part, as if he was trying to get a bad taste out of his mouth.

Helga didn't like the sound of that. It was almost if Arnold wanted it to be more than just two friends hanging out together. "Tell you what . . . I'll believe it's not a date if you bring Geraldo along for the ride," she said to prove a point.

Arnold's eyes widened. "G-Gerald?" he said in surprise. "No, he's not really into stuff like that. He'd probably pass if I asked him. He really doesn't like feeling like a third wheel."

"Then I'll tag along," Helga said casually, curious to see what his response would be.

Arnold looked taken aback. "You?"

Helga narrowed her eyes. "Yeah me, got something you want to say, Arnoldo?"

"N-no. It's just that . . . I didn't really peg you as someone who'd be interested in seeing a bunny movie."

And she wasn't. Truth be told, she had better things to do than sit through a 3-hour film, bored to death. But he didn't need to know that.

"And what if I am that type? What are you going to do about it?"

"Uh—"

"What's the matter, football head? Too proud to bring another person on your so-called play date? Three's a crowd now?"

"No . . . it's just . . . ."

"What? That I was right? That the only reason you don't want me to come is because you're still not over Lila? Huh? Is that it? I'm waiting, Arnold." Helga interrogated, knowing that she made her point, but feeling a bit hurt now that the truth became clear.

"No, it's just, I'm already bringing Lila and if you tag along it'll make it seem like I'm kind of a . . . ."

"A what? What could be so bad about bringing two girls along?" Helga thought of all the things that Arnold could be labelled and nothing seemed bad to her. Guys actually got props among their guy friends for being with more than one girl.

". . . a wuss."

'A wuss?' Helga thought in surprise. That was the big crisis? "You've got to be kidding me. Nobody's going to think you're a wuss for taking two girls to the movies."

"Yeah, to see Enchanted Bunnies II!" he argued. "I'll be a laughing stock. People won't think I took you guys to the movies, they'll think you guys took me."

Helga started cracking up. "That's what you were worried about? Oh man, this is great."

Arnold looked annoyed. "Well, yeah. Helga, you might think it's funny, but you're not the one who will have to face Harold and the guys on Monday."

"Look, Football head. If you're that hung up about it, then mums the word. Who's going to know? I won't tell anyone, Lila will keep quiet if you tell her, and Gerald's got your back no matter what."

"But Gerald can't keep a secret."

"So? Just make something up. You don't have to tell him everything. Lord knows he doesn't tell you everything . . . need I remind you about Fuzzy Slippers?"

"Yeah, but I can't hide anything from Gerald. He's my best friend. And besides, I'm no good at keeping secrets either," he said, recalling an incident where he had to dress up in a bunny outfit just to appease Peapod kid.

"Calm down. No need to get your panties in a twist." She said, chuckling a bit when she got the 'not helping' look from Arnold. "If it means that much to you, I'll just beat up anyone who says something about you."

"That'll be even worse because I let a girl fight my battles . . . ."

Helga shrugged. "So? What's wrong with a girl fighting? I'll be your body guard, free of charge."

"Forget it, Helga. It's not happening."

'Oh I'll show you what's not happening!' Helga thought, insulted. What was up with guys and their big egos? "You know what? Fine. Clearly, you don't want me to tag along, you don't want Gerald to tag along, and I'm willing to bet you'll have an excuse for why any of the guys can't come along, so go. Have fun on your date. See if I care."

"Helga . . . I already said it's not like that. I promised Lila I'd go see a movie with her. If I show up with a bunch of other guys, she'll be really confused and it'll be like I didn't take her feelings into consideration."

"Oh, I understand."

"Y-you do?"

"I understand that you really want to go out on a date with Lila and all I'm doing is wasting my time trying to find out an answer I already know!"

"Helga, I really don't understand why you're so angry! I'm not even the one who wanted to go. Gerald set me up."

"Angry? You think this is angry? You haven't seen anything yet!"

"Helga, there's really no need to be upset. Besides, this has nothing to do with you—"

"FINE!" Helga shouted. "You want to go on your date so bad, then be my guest. I won't trouble you anymore." With that, she stormed out of the room. He ran after her.

"Helga, wait!" he called out, catching up to her.

She turned back around to give him a piece of her mind. "Save it for your date. And don't even think about speaking to me again! Ever!" Helga shouted, continuing on her way. 'Stupid football head . . . how could he be so dense? This has everything to do with me! I should be on that date with Arnold, not Lila!' she thought, heading down the stairs. 'Looks like I'll just have to take matters into my own hands later. "Operation: Sabotage Arnold's date" is now under way,' she thought with an evil smile.

Arnold sighed, watching Helga disappear down the staircase. "This is going to be a long day," he said to no one in particular before shutting his door and descending the staircase after her.


...

As Arnold headed the hallway, he caught sight of Helga beginning to descend the second staircase from across the hall. "Helga!" he called out, quickening his pace to catch up with her. She continued her descent.

"Helga!" he tried again, approaching her from behind. He followed her until they reached the bottom. "Helga, wait," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She sighed heavily, turning around to face him. She crossed her arms.

"What is it now, geek bait?" she asked harshly. "I thought I told you I was done speaking to you."

Relieved that he finally got her attention, Arnold took his hand off her shoulder. "Yeah, well, you might be through speaking to me, but that doesn't mean I'm done speaking to you," he answered.

She scoffed. "Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'm done listening to you," she replied, turning her back to him.

"Helga, you don't have to listen long. I promise. All I need is a minute of your time. Just one minute, and then you can decide if you ever want to speak to me again," he said.

Helga thought it over. "You have thirty seconds," she said.

Arnold rolled his eyes. 'Leave it to Helga to be impatient as ever,' he thought, considering a way he could cut everything to the chase.

He took a deep breath. "About what happened back there . . . I didn't mean to make you angry. I'm sorry if I made it seem like I don't like being around you. Because I do like hanging around you. Helga, you're one of my closest friends, but I hate that we're always arguing." He held out a hand to her. "Can we please just start over and call it a truce?" he asked, keeping his sea-green eyes levelled with hers.

'Sure, we can put this all behind us once you agree to keep Lila out of your life out of your life for good,' she thought. Nonetheless, she took his hand.

"Okay, fine. Truce," she agreed, shaking his hand.

Arnold stared back at her in shock. 'That was . . . unexpected. I thought it was going to be a lot harder to convince Helga not to argue.'

Noticing Arnold's blank stare, she said, "What?! Why the heck do you keep staring at me? Do I have something on my face?" she questioned.

He shook his head, snapping out of it. "No, no . . . I just . . . ." he shook his head again, thinking better of it. "Never mind. It's nothing," he said. He gave a reassuring smile. "I'm glad we're not fighting anymore."

"Yeah, sure . . . ." she thought. 'But don't think this is over, Football Head. I'll play nice right up until I sabotage your date tonight.'

She grinned, slapping him on the back. "Well, what are we standing here for? I'm starving!" she exclaimed, hurrying down the hall.

Arnold's smile faded a little. "I sure hope Grandma doesn't dress up as a fruit ninja again," he said, holding his stomach. He headed towards the kitchen to help set the table for breakfast.

On one side of the dining room table, Ernie, Oskar, Susie, Miriam, and Mr. Hyunh sat, respectively, awaiting their breakfast. Beside Mr. Hyunh sat Arnold, Helga, and Bob, at the head of the table. Phil sat at the other end, across from Bob. There remained two empty chairs between Helga and Bob, and Ernie and Phil, to be filled by Gertie and Olga once they finally decided to grace their presence at the table. Susie and Miriam were chatting away earnestly while the rest of the table sat in silence as each person kept their eyes glued to some inanimate object, desperately trying to avoid eye contact for fear of being obligated to engage in conversation. The constant ticking of a clock could be heard in the background. Finally, Phil had enough.

"Pookie, what's taking so long with breakfast?!" he called out to the kitchen door behind him.

"Yeah, I'm starved!" Ernie agreed.

"Yeah, me too!" Oskar chimed in.

"Copy that! Coming in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . ." Gertie's voice responded from behind the door. She emerged from the kitchen dressed in an astronaut spacesuit, helmet included, and carrying several plates full of what was perceived to be breakfast. All eyes were on her as she began divvying out plates to everyone.

"Jumping Jehoshaphat! Pookie! What have I told you about wearing that suit to breakfast?! You're scaring everyone!" Phil cried out.

"Oh, now don't be silly. You know there's no oxygen in outer space," she said coaxingly.

Phil shook his head. "You're going to put me in a nuthouse one of these days," he grumbled.

"What kind of nutcase walks around in a spacesuit?!" Bob exclaimed.

"The kind that's out of this world," Gertie replied with a wink. She handed a plate to Phil.

He looked down at his plate in dismay. "Aw Pookie! You know what raspberries do to me. How am I supposed to eat these dried-up ones?" he complained.

"Did you try eating it with your mouth?" Gertie asked with a laugh. As Phil grumbled in response, she continued passing out plates until she reached Helga.

"Oh Eleanor! What a surprise! How goes the mission back on earth?" she asked, looking expectantly at Helga.

Helga's eyes widened, instantly recalling the time Gertie used the same nickname for her when Helga mysteriously found herself in the boarding house kitchen after a case of sleepwalking caused by her dad's pork rinds.

She hesitated. "Um . . . fine?" Helga guessed.

Gertie seemed to accept that answer because she nodded and said, "Good to hear!" Then, she continued working around the table.

Arnold turned to Helga. "Eleanor?" he asked.

"Hey, don't look at me! You're the one with the crazy family!" Helga defended.

Once Gertie was finished passing out plates, she said, "Everyone, be sure to eat up now! You're all going to need your strength for the big mission ahead of us! We're heading to the moon!" With that, she took her seat beside Phil, took off her space helmet, and began eating through a bag of dry ice cream. Ernie made the loony bin sign beside his ear. Mr. Hyunh laughed, stifling the noise by placing a hand over his mouth.

"Crimeny! What kind of junk are you feeding us?!" Bob suddenly exclaimed, causing everyone to look over at him. He stood up in outrage, holding space food bags, one by one. "Dried up eggs and bacon?! Pancake chips?! How's a grown man supposed to eat this stuff?!" he said.

Helga rolled her eyes. "Of course. Leave it to Bob to make a spectacle out of everything," she remarked.

Bob glared back at her. "Hey! Watch your mouth, missy!" he replied.

She rolled her eyes. 'Right, because I definitely learned how to watch my mouth from you, Dad,' Helga thought sarcastically.

Bob turned back to Phil. "Listen here, I pay decent money to eat decent food! I am not paying for whatever crap your wife laid out here. Now, unless I get some decent food soon, I'll be taking my cash elsewhere. Capiche?" he said.

Phil stood up from his chair, glaring back at him. "No, you listen here, Bob. I've had just about enough of you. Your threats aren't going to work on me. My wife didn't have to give you and your family anything to eat. It's not included in the contract, and you paid for rent and utilities only. But if you want to argue and have things your way all the time, then I suggest you take you and your family elsewhere. Capiche?"

"Oh really?! Well, maybe we should!" Bob argued, standing up.

"Fine! Just don't let the door hit you on the way out!" Phil said.

Arnold stood up, seeing where things were going. "Guys, guys . . . can't we all just agree to get along? You two have been arguing since we got here, and besides, Mr. Pataki's family is only here for two weeks." He said.

"Hey! Tell that grandson of yours to pipe down! The men are handling this," Bob said.

"Stay out of this, Shortman," Phil agreed. Arnold sighed, sitting back down in defeat.

"I want my money back, old man!" Bob shouted.

"Stop calling me an old man!" Phil yelled.

"Oh brother, here we go again…" Helga said, giving a bored look. She took a bite out of her dried up chicken tenders. Her eyes widened. "Hey, this stuff's ain't half-bad," she said in surprise, taking several other bites.

Meanwhile, Bob and Phil had ganged up on each other. Bob grabbed hold of the hem of Phil's shirt.

"Don't play with me, gramps!"

Phil's eyes narrowed. "The name's Phil. Now take your hands off of me," he said.

"Make me," Bob dared.

"Oh my! Will someone please stop them?!" Susie said, looking to any volunteers. She looked to Miriam. "Miriam, what about you? This is your husband we're talking about!"

Miriam sighed. "Okay, I'll try," she said, standing up. "B…don't you think you should—"

"Quiet Miriam!" Bob said, cutting her off.

Miriam sighed again. She resigned herself to sitting down again.

"Hey! Don't talk to her that way!" Susie defended, but Bob ignored her. He wasn't the only one to ignore Susie.

Ernie kept his focus on Bob and Phil. "I place ten bucks on the big guy in the fight," he said.

"Are you crazy? Grandpa wise with experience. Mr. Pataki don't stand chance. Ten bucks on grandpa," Mr. Hyunh countered.

"You're on!" Ernie agreed.

"Hey! I want to bet too!" Oskar chimed in.

"I can't believe you guys. You're placing bids at a time like this?! Why, you all should be ashamed of yourselves! And Oskar, you don't have any money!" Susie reminded him.

"Oh right ehehe," Oskar said, rubbing his head. He looked to Susie. "Susie, can I borrow ten bucks?" Oskar tried.

Susie rolled her eyes. "Oh Oskar!"

Phil and Bob were having a stare down until Phil kicked Bob in his weak knee, causing Bob to let go of Phil's shirt.

"OUCH! SON OF A—!" Bob exclaimed, using both hands to grab hold of his knee as he hopped around in agony. "You're going to pay for that!"

"Punch him in the kisser, Phil!" Gertie cheered, caught up in the excitement.

"Grandma . . . ." Arnold said, giving her a look.

Just as Bob was about to give Phil a run for his money, Olga emerged from the kitchen door, carrying a tall stack of ten rectangular tin foil pans.

"Good morning, everyone! I have a special treat for you all!" She said cheerfully. "I have taken the liberty of making an Alaskan special breakfast that I learned during my time I spent with the Inuit people, and I just can't wait to share it with you all," she said cheerfully. She walked over and placed each of the tin foil pans in the center of the table.

"Alright, real food!" Ernie cheered, helping himself to a pan. Mr. Hyunh, Oskar, and Susie did the same.

"Oh goody! Ms. Thinks-she's-perfect comes to the rescue once again," Helga remarked.

"Oh, come on, Helga. Your sister's just trying to help out," Arnold said.

"Yeah, like she ever stops helping out," she said.

Bob opened the lid to one of the tin containers to find a large, fluffy omelettes with orange slices on the side.

"Do you like it, daddy? I made grilled salmon omelettes with a dash of hollandaise," Olga stated proudly.

"Like it?! I love it! I'm digging into mine right now!" Bob said excitedly. As promised, he stuck a forkful of the omelette in his mouth. "You've outdone yourself yet again, Olga! Patakis know how to cook food. You all should be paying us for this!"

The delicious aroma of fresh fish filled the air. Phil's stomach growled. "I'll just have a bite," he said, giving into the temptation. But as he reached down for his food, he was met with resistance. He looked up to find a grinning Oskar holding onto the other end of his pan.

"Why, you~! Quit trying to steal other people's food, you dirty thief!" Phil said, snatching the pan out of Oskar's hands.

"Eheheh . . . I was just making sure you knew it was there," Oskar replied sheepishly.

"Yeah, right . . . ." Phil said, before turning his attention to his food. After the first bite, he promptly shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth.

Beside him, Gertie shrugged, continuing to eat another bag of dry ice cream.

"Aren't you going to eat your omelette, Arnold?" Olga asked, looking to the blonde boy sitting across from her.

"That's okay. I'm actually not very hungry," Arnold said. In actuality, he really didn't want to hurt his grandma's feelings since she went through all the trouble preparing her "space food" and no one was eating it.

"If Arnold's not eating his food, can I have it?" Oskar asked, already reaching for the pan.

"Not before me," Ernie said, digging his fork into the entire omelet and bringing the omelette to his own plate.

"Hey!" Oskar exclaimed angrily.

Ernie shrugged. "Snooze you lose," he said with a mouthful of omelette.

Meanwhile, Olga looked to Helga. "So, baby sis, I was thinking that after breakfast, the two of us can head over to the Hillwood mall and pick up some cute new outfits for you," she said enthusiastically.

"And I was thinking that that's a terrible idea, and I can pick out my own outfits. By myself," Helga answered.

Olga looked crestfallen at Helga's response. "But baby sister, I—"

"—can leave me alone and do your own shopping," Helga remarked.

Tears began to pool in Olga's eyes. "I just . . . I just thought we could," were the only words she could get out before she started bawling.

Bob face palmed. "Oh for the love of—not the waterworks again," he exclaimed. "Olga, just go with your sister already so she can stop crying already!"

"It's Helga, Dad. Helga. And you can forget me dealing with Miss Ray of Sunshine all afternoon," she asserted.

If possible, Olga's wailing only increased in volume when she heard that Helga still refused to go with her.

"For once I agree with Big Bob here. I think it's better you go with you sister, and give us all a break," Phil said, plugging his ears with his index fingers.

The other boarders agreed.

Arnold looked to Helga. "I think you should go with your sister too, Helga. It's probably not as bad as you think. And who knows? She might surprise you," he persuaded.

Helga cast a long, drawn out sigh. "Oh fine. Since everyone can't seem to get off my back about it, I'll go with Olga. But don't expect this little endeavor to be anything short of a one-time deal," she conceded, crossing his arms.

Olga immediately stopped crying, dabbing a tissue at her now mascara smeared eyes. "Oh baby sis, I just know we're going to have so much fun!" she exclaimed. She looked to everyone. "And later, I can't wait to show everyone my award-winning film from Bennington College, starring Olga Pataki, award-winning actress, as Carmen in Carmen," she said cheerily.

"That's my Olga!" Bob said, taking another bite of his omelette.

Everyone else grumbled.

Olga didn't seem to notice. She stood up. "Well, I'll start cleaning the dishes," she said.

"One of the great wonders of space food is that it leaves no residue and is easy to clean up," Gertie stated, smiling. "But since none of you had any, you all have yourself a mess." She rose up, putting on her space helmet, and casually strode away. Everyone was silent until Phil spoke.

"Crazy old bird," Phil muttered.


Olga's red convertible was top down, and blasting with rock music as the car cruised along to Hillwood mall. Olga sat in the driver's seat, her dark shades on and a green bandana tightly wrapped around her hair, while Helga sat next to her, her arms folded, as she stared aimlessly out the passenger window. They were about halfway to the mall now.

Olga reached over to turn down the volume of the radio. Upon hearing the volume lowered, Helga reached over and raised the volume.

"Helga," Olga said, turning her head to give her sister a look.

"What? You have to speak louder. I can't hear you," Helga said, grinning.

Olga reached over to turn the volume down again, but Helga slapped her hand away. "I don't think so," Helga replied.

"What?!" Olga called out.

"Never mind," Helga said, "Just get back to driving,"

"What?!" Olga repeated.

Helga face palmed.

"Isn't it great that we're finally spending time with each other, baby sis?" Olga said, looking back to the road.

"What?!" Helga said in annoyance, turning her head back to her sister.

Olga spoke even louder. "I SAID, 'ISN'T IT GREAT THAT WE'RE FINALLY—"

Helga turned down the volume.

Noting the volume change, Olga lowered her voice. "—spending time with each other, baby sis?"

Helga shrugged. "I guess," she said in a bored tone.

Olga giggled. "Now that we're finally alone, we can talk about all sorts of things. Like your crush on that cute blonde boy, Arnold, you're always fussing about," she teased.

That perked Helga up. "Arnold?!" she exclaimed. "What about Arnold?" she asked.

Olga waved it off. "I think it's just so sweet that you have a wittle crush on him."

Helga grumbled. "For the last time, I do not have a crush on Arnold," she lied, feeling her cheeks burning.

Olga shook her head. "Ah, ah, ah. You can't fool me, baby sis. I know all the nice things you wrote about him," she said.

Helga froze. "Wait. You just said 'I wrote?' What did you mean by 'I wrote?'" she asked, suddenly very curious.

Olga smiled. It finally felt like they were beginning to get along. "Oh well, just the other day, before the fire happened, I went into your room looking for you and you weren't there, but you had left your closet door open so I went to close it, but then I came across a cute little pile of pretty pink books so I went through them and—"

"You went through my STUFF?" Helga shrieked in horror.

Not understanding her sister's distress, Olga continued. "Oh, Helga you silly! Of course I did. I thought it was just so sweet that my baby sister had such a knack for poetry and so, you see, I just had to share it with our dear mother and she thought it was so cute—"

"You did WHAT?" Helga screamed, her eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. "Crimeny Olga! Who ELSE knows about this?" she exclaimed.

"Well, I didn't want to spoil your little secret so I thought it better if I came and spoke to you about it. That way, it'd be our little secret," Olga casually told her.

Helga narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, except that it's not a secret if you go around telling the whole world about it! The things in my room are for my eyes and my eyes alone, and I thought that even you, my own sister, would respect that. I mean, Crimeny! There was a sign on the door for Cripes sake labeled in MY name, Hel-ga, not Ol-ga. With all your good grades, I thought you would have no trouble reading that! But nooo, you go into my room without permission and take it upon yourself to just snoop into my things, my LIFE, and take any privacy I had in this household away from me!" Helga yelled. "Crimeny! I don't know who I can trust anymore!"

Olga was taken aback by her sister's anger. "I was only trying to bond with you, baby sister—" she said, tears beginning to smear her mascara.

"No, you weren't trying to bond with me. Because if you were, you would know that I don't appreciate ANYONE going through my stuff. Not you, not Miriam, Especially not BOB, and not even my own friends!" Helga said.

Olga looked to her sister. "Oh baby sister, I don't see why it's so—"

Helga cut her off. "Of course you wouldn't see, Olga. Not when all you're concerned about is your own feelings rather than the rest of us on this earth! Oh and you can stop calling me, 'baby sister.' I'm not your baby sis anymore. In case you haven't noticed, I'm 10 years old!" she said.

Olga sniffled. "Oh Helga! Can you ever forgive me?" she asked.

"Stop the car, Olga," Helga said suddenly.

"But baby sister!" Olga protested

"STOP THE CAR NOW!" Helga shouted.

Instantly, the car screeched to a halt, and Helga got out of the car. She slammed the door behind her.

"I am so out of here," Helga said, storming away in the other direction.

"Baby Sister!" Olga screamed out, her voice reaching upper octaves.

Helga ignored her and continued on her way back to the boarding house. Olga didn't pursue.


Back at the boarding house, Arnold placed a pan of leftover salmon omelette on a dumbwaiter. Then, he pulled down on a cord and watched the dumbwaiter raise higher and higher until it stopped at Mr. Smith's room. When he lowered the dumbwaiter back again, the pan had vanished. Arnold crossed the words, "Deliver breakfast to Mr. Smith" off his checklist.

"I guess I better check on all the boarders to make sure they don't get into any fights again," Arnold said, heading up the stairs.

As Arnold made it up the stairs, Oskar came bursting out the door of the Kokoschka residence.

"Oh Arnold! Thank goodness! You've got to help me. Susie won't tell her friend to leave, and Susie won't make me a sandwich like she promised," Oskar said.

"Mr. Kokoschka, you just ate," Arnold reminded him.

"I know! But I'm so hungry!" he explained.

"Then make yourself a sandwich," Arnold said.

"I don't know how eheheh," Oskar said sheepishly.

"You're joking," Arnold stated.

Laughter could be heard emanating from the door. "Arnold, you're my only hope. Make Susie's friend leave," Oskar said.

"But Mr. Kokoschka, I can't do that. Mrs. Kokoschka's free to have anyone she wants over. And besides, sometimes you invite some of your poker buddies over and Susie never complains," Arnold countered.

"That doesn't count. Susie has her friend over all the time," Oskar argued.

"It's only been a day," Arnold responded. "And I don't understand. Why can't you just find something all three of you have in common, so you don't have to feel so excluded?"

"Well, about that . . . ehehe," Oskar replied sheepishly. "Susie kicked me out. She said I was pestering her too much. Can you believe that ehehe?"

'Oh, I believe it,' Arnold thought. "Well, have you tried doing something nice for her? Maybe she'll let you in if you're on your best behavior," he suggested.

"That depends. Can I borrow twenty bucks?" Oskar asked.

"Why?" Arnold asked.

"Oh please Arnold! I want to buy a gift for Susie. Then, she will let me in," he said.

Arnold sighed, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out ten bucks. "Here, I'll give you ten bucks. That should be enough," he said.

Oskar snatched the money away gratefully. "Oh, thank you, Arnold. You're a real pal. Don't worry, I'll pay you back," he said.

"Sure, Mr. Kokoschka," Arnold responded tiredly, having a strong feeling that he wouldn't be getting any money back from Mr. Kokoschka. He watched as Mr. Kokoschka took off down the flight of stairs.

He continued on his way until he came to Mr. Hyunh's room. He knocked twice on the door. The door opened immediately.

"Oh Arnold! Welcome! I was just reading a letter from my daughter," said Mr. Hyunh's cheery voice. "Come in!" He widened the door for Arnold to come through.

Arnold put his hand up to politely decline the offer. "No, that's okay. I just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay," he said.

"Oh yes! I am doing quite well. You are a kind boy, Arnold," he responded.

"Thanks. I'll see you later, Mr. Hyunh," Arnold said.

"Yes, see you later!" Mr. Hyunh grinned. "Such kind boy!" he exclaimed again, shutting the door.

Arnold went to the next door, which happened to be Ernie's room. He knocked twice, but didn't get a response. He knocked again and waited a few moments for a response, but didn't get one.

"Guess he's not in," Arnold said. Just as he was about to walk away, the door flew open, revealing a short red-haired man with a dark unibrow. He had large headphones on his head.

"Oh Arnold, it's you. Sorry, couldn't hear you with these babies on," he said, taking off his headphones. "I was listening to a simulation of how it would sound when I finally knock down that old library three blocks up the road with my wrecking ball." He brought the headphones closer to Arnold. "Want to try them on?" he asked.

Arnold waved a hand to politely decline the offer. "No thanks. I just came here to make sure that you were doing okay," he answered.

Ernie shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you change your mind, I'll be here," Ernie said. "Bye Arnold," he said, shutting the door.

"Yeah, bye," Arnold said and then continued down the hallway. "That leaves the Patakis," he said, mentally groaning.

He approached Mr. and Mrs. Pataki's room. He knocked on the door twice, but received no answer. He repeated the knocking a couple more times, but still received no response.

"I guess Mr. Pataki's not in his room," he said. "Either that, or he's ignoring me." He chuckled. "Since Ms. Pataki isn't here, I guess I'll just head over to Grandpa and Grandma's room to give Grandpa a status report."

However, as he passed by Olga's room, he was surprised to find Bob Pataki inside the room, gathering up some things in his arm.

"Mr. Pataki?!" Arnold exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Bob jumped, not expecting anyone to barge in on him. He looked to find the source of the voice. "Oh, Arnie. It's you. Startled me there," he said, returning to what he was doing.

"What are you doing in your daughter's room?" Arnold asked.

"Well, first of all, it's not my daughter's room since it's my money that's going into it. And second, buzz off, kid! Quit sticking your nose into my business," he answered, picking up a big box of beepers, including a familiar red open-toed shoe piled on top.

As he started to leave the room, he turned to Arnold. "Hey, take this frilly shoe to the girl's room upstairs, would ya? I don't have time to be climbing so many stairs," he said. Not waiting for Arnold's permission, he tossed him the shoe, which Arnold caught easily. Bob then continued his path to his room.

Arnold looked to the shoe in his hands. 'Wait a minute, I think I've seen this shoe before,' he thought, eyeing the shoe closely. His eyes widened in realization. 'It's Cecile's shoe! But . . . why is it down here? I could've sworn I put Cecile's shoe in the closet upstairs,' he thought. "Oh well, I guess I can put this back in the closet upstairs," he said, heading down the hallway to his room.

Just as he pulled down the staircase leading to his room, the telephone rang. Arnold walked over to the phone, put the shoe down, and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hello, this is Mr. Bailey speaking. I work for the Hall of Records. I heard from a source that the Patakis changed residences due to an electric fire that happened at the house yesterday. Is Helga Pataki there by any chance? I would like to speak with her," Mr. Bailey answered.

"Uh, no, she's not here at the moment. She went out to the mall with her sister a little while ago. But I can take a message, if you would like," Arnold responded.

"Okay, let's do that," he said.

"Hold on, let me get a pen," Arnold replied. 'Mr. Bailey? Wasn't he the one who helped Mr. Hyunh reunite with his daughter?' he thought to himself. He grabbed the nearest pen. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Very well. When you see Helga Pataki, please let her know that Mr. Bailey from the Hall of Records wants to thank her for gifting her those brand new fancy boots last Christmas, and that it really saved me and my daughter some heartache," he said.

Arnold's eyes widened at the message. 'Helga Pataki gifted his daughter boots?' He thought in surprise.

"Hello? Did you get all that?" Mr. Bailey asked on the other line.

Arnold shook his head. "Yeah, it's just . . . I'm sorry, you said you want this message to be delivered to Helga Pataki? Helga G. Pataki?!" he emphasized.

"That's the one!" Mr. Bailey answered. "Could you give that message to her?"

Arnold was still in shock. "Yeah . . . yeah, of course. I'll let her know," he replied.

"Great," Mr. Bailey said, and then he hung up. Arnold put the phone back on its hook. He continued to stare blankly at the wall.

Like clockwork, the events from last Christmas were coming back to him. He remembered Gerald and him rushing over to the Hall of Records office, and then talking to Mr. Bailey about locating Mai Hyunh, Mr. Hyunh's long lost daughter, and then Mr. Bailey refusing unless they helped him get his daughter a particular set of boots that was on the rage for pre-teen girls. He remembered him and Gerald not being able to find the boots and thinking that all hope was lost for Mr. Hyunh reuniting with his daughter. But then, he remembered by some miracle Mr. Hyunh's daughter showed up at the Boarding House door and gave Mr. Hyunh and all the other boarders a big surprise. Last, he recalled the words of his best friend, Gerald when he said that it looked like a little angel was looking out for Arnold. Never did he imagine that his little angel would turn out to be Helga G. Pataki!

'Why didn't she say anything? Why would she keep it a secret from me for all this time?' Arnold thought, having trouble bringing himself to terms with the news. He put a hand to his head, looking back to the shoe next to the telephone.

He sighed. "I should probably take this shoe back upstairs," he said, grabbing the shoe and heading up the stairs.