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Turn On The Lights

Chapter Four: We Will Stand Tall

Arnold's taste in books kind of sucked. Of course he had several on the subject of anthropology, San Lorenzo, and what little was known about the Green Eyed People. These topics, although they did stir some sympathetic heartstrings for his obvious loss, did not interest her in the least. After that though, his bookcase was filled with every book in the Hardy Boys series by the look of it. He also seemed to own all the Artemis Fowl books, Harry Potter, and anything written by Stephen King. She realized quickly all of his books involved Indiana Jones type adventuring or mystery solving. She found that slightly amusing considering how much adventuring and mystery solving and shenanigans they had participated in as kids. However, Helga was more into fantasy novels, magic, fairytales, and love stories. There wasn't a speck of those on his wall.

She sighed. It was only 7:40 in the morning. She shut the book in her hand and flopped back down on Arnold's bed. She realized she should be happier and reveling in the fact that she was staying in the room of the boy she liked and actually sleeping next to the guy at night. But in the end, she just felt hallow and extremely alone. Her entire family had turned their backs on her. They had never been supportive of her and had never tried to make her feel wanted or a part of their unit. But they had always suffered through her regardless. Now though, they were gone and she was alone. She'd never felt more alone actually, than in this moment. No amount of Arnold's presence could make that all go away. She rolled over and stared at an alarm clock with a tiny Arnold on top. She contemplated stealing the figure.

Arnold. He really was too kind to exist, taking her in like this despite her having tortured him for over a decade. She still wanted to call Phoebe but she knew if Phoebe knew what was going on, she'd cut her anniversary trip short and rush back home to take care of her. She couldn't do that to her best friend. Plus, secretly and selfishly, she wanted to stay at Arnold's for as long as possible. She looked down at herself still wearing the same clothes from the day before. She sighed loudly. She had to get some clothes. She couldn't hang around Arnold and be wearing the same clothes over and over. Should she try to go back home and get some things? The picture of Big Bob's enraged face; blood dropping down the side of his head came to mind. She shivered.

No, she thought. She wasn't going to let him scare her away. She got up and started pulling on her converse. It had only been a night. Bob couldn't have possibly have had time to change the locks yet. She glanced at the clock. 8am? Bob had already been at work for two hours. Miriam would be passed out on the couch from the night before. Mirium should be getting ready to leave to do the grocery shopping. She pulled on her coat and felt the house keys in her pocket. If she was quick, she could pull it off. She climbed up the steps leading to the skylight and climbed onto the roof. She stood there looking out at the skyline and groaned. Her toes were already cold. It was going to be a long walk.

Helga crouched behind a car across the street from the Pataki apartment. She had watched the house for thirty minutes after Mirium had left to start her errands for the day before crossing the street. She walked nervously up to the door and pulled out her key. She paused before she crammed the key in. It still worked. She turned it and heard the ominous click. She pushed the door open and crept inside. It was dark. She closed the door and crept forward.

Helga was all too familiar with her parent's routines. The mornings were Miriam's recovery time of the day. She would awaken after her drunk stupor in the afternoon only to start drinking again to put herself in a nice little trance before Bob would come home late from work, as usual. Maybe then they would kiss but usually he would just plop down in his armchair in front of the TV while she hovered in the background. When he finally called it a night, Miriam would collapse on the couch to watch old sappy black and white movies that she secretly wished her life was like. Then she would pass out and the cycle would continue the next day.

There was a dull glow of the television coming from the living room. Helga peered in. Miriam was asleep on the couch, of course, her glasses slightly askew. She rolled her eyes and tiptoed up the stairs to her room. Once inside, she shut the door behind her and looked around. Everything was still in its place. She wondered how long that would last before Bob destroyed it.

She flew to her closet and threw open the door. She gasped. It was empty. Had he thrown her clothes away? She spun around but caught sight of something on the bed. She walked over and saw her pink suitcase laying there. There was a note on top, just a red heart and Mirium's signature. She felt tears in her eyes. Mirium had known she would come back and had packed her a suitcase. She wiped her eyes and grabbed it. She hauled it down the stairs. Miriam didn't even budge as she went out the front door.

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As Helga attempted to lug her giant suitcase up Arnold's precarious fire escape, she wished she had stopped and waited somewhere until three o'clock so she could have walked through the front door with Arnold instead. But nooo, she had to be all independent and shit. Her suitcase was huge and judging by the weight of it, was filled to the brim with every article of clothing she owned. It had been easy enough to get over here since it had wheels. Sure she had gotten a couple of odd looks but hadn't she gotten them her entire life? But at this moment, she was now tugging it upwards. She was literally sweating in December under her heavy coat. She glared upwards at the roof. She could do this. Right?

Finally she made it through the skylight and threw the suitcase down onto the bed. She jumped down and threw it open. Her clothes popped out immediately, dying to escape from their cramped prison. She dug through them eagerly to find a bag of toiletries, some shoes, and underwear. She laughed and changed into some pajamas. She instantly felt cleaner and happier. She shoved the case onto the floor and stretched out comfortably on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling lost for a moment. Although she was more than happy that her mission had been a success, she realized she didn't know what to do now. She glanced at his clock to see that it was now around ten. She glanced over at his computer, where there lay a portal to Facebook and online gaming but she couldn't bring herself to think about typing in his ridiculously idiotic and crackable password. She rolled her eyes and briefly considered snooping in his room. He had to have some sort of journal or secret porno stash or something of equal embarrassing magnitude. Although she loved any opportunity to pick on him, she decided to forget the snooping. He was already being nice enough to take her in. She doubted she should press her luck any further, even with a guy like Arnold, considering he already had to suffer through her delightful presence 24/7.

So what was left for her? Although she was happy to have the suitcase, she realized she missed much more than that. She thought of the boxes of journals in her closet and her rather nice 11x14 sketchbook hidden beneath her bed. The picture of her ceiling high bookcase came to mind, filled with Christopher Pike, Diana Wynne Jones, Lemony Snicket, and Cornelia Funke to name a few. There was no way she could bring all those things here. She felt annoyingly home sick. She wandered aimlessly over to his desk and started opening drawers. Perhaps she could bring a little bit of that here.

FIVE LONG ASS HOURS LATER

Helga laid spread out on the bed with a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, the tip of which was being gnawed away between her teeth. She was reading over the bit of poem she had managed to write in the past couple of hours. It just wasn't going where she wanted it, which annoyed her. Inspiration was continuous with her, the side benefit of having an uncaring family and unrequited love. She knew it was because her emotions were scattered this way and that. One moment she was happy to be staying in the room of her love, sleeping beside him, getting to peruse his things with his permission for once. But then she would catch sight of her suitcase on the floor and the sadness would overwhelm her again. Although her family had never tried to reach out to her, include her, get to know her, or least make her feel like part of their unit, they had at least always suffered through her. But now, they had all turned their backs on her. She was finally alone, just like she'd always wanted, but it was ending up bothering her more than she had anticipated. Plus there was the broke as a joke bit. Bob wasn't lying, he had always made sure she had whatever she needed, discouraged her from having a job. Now she realized he had just been making her dependent on him so he could jerk her around whenever he wanted.

She sighed. She realized she was grieving, not only for the loss of her family but also on how that loss reflected on her. How pathetic must she be, that the only people in the world that were obligated to care about her didn't? How could anyone? She ripped the sheet off, balled it up, and aimed for the wastebasket beside the door. It, like the twenty before it, bounced off the rim and onto the floor along with its rejected sisters. Just then the door opened.

"Hey there." Arnold said smiling. He looked down at the mess at his feet and kicked a few papers towards her.

"Been keeping busy I suppose?"

"You could say that." She said vaguely. She kind of hoped he wouldn't pick any up and unfold them. Of course they were all love poems about him. Although she had finally learned her lesson years ago to stop putting his name or hers in them, it still made her nervous for him to read them.

"Hey Helga? Where did all this stuff come from?" He asked leaning over her suitcase.

"It was the weirdest thing. They were having a Helga Pataki sale down at the Goodwill. What are the odds, right?" She joked, trying to get rid of the dark look on his face as he looked down at it.

"Helga." He said sternly, not interested.

"Okay, okay, I got it from my house." She said casually inspecting the dirt beneath her fingernails. She had a feeling he wouldn't be too happy about that. Of course, after the silence had stretched on for an eternity, she had to stop looking at her nails and into his face. He was glaring at her.

"You went to your house alone?" He barked. She jumped, startled by his out of character fury. Was he...reprimanding her?

"Uh, yeah. I needed clothes." She said awkwardly picking at the bed sheets.

"Helga, how could you do that? What if Bob had been there? What if he had hurt you?"

"I know their schedules, Arnoldo. I'm not a complete idiot. I knew they wouldn't be home and that Bob had no time to change the locks. I was in and out, no problem." She shrugged. She didn't understand why this was such a big deal to him. She was a big girl, she could handle herself.

"Couldn't you have at least waited for me?" He spluttered.

"If I can handle it on my own, I will Arnold. I won't ask for help unless I absolutely have to." She crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air. Honestly? There was no way in hell she would have let him come with her. What if Bob had been there for some reason? She couldn't imagine if he hit her in front of Arnold. How could she ever face him again? What would he think of her, his bully so weak she couldn't even face her own father? Plus she knew in her gut he would try to intervene and how could she live with herself if Bob hurt Arnold too?

"Yeah, no duh." Arnold rolled his eyes exasperated. "You just let things build until they explode and get out of hand."

"ARNOLD." She snapped sharply. His anger disappeared in a moment as alarm showed in his eyes.

"Do not pretend you know anything about my home situation. Got it?" She said waspishly. He took a step back and nodded.

"I wasn't trying to-I just-why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Phoebe knew." She grumbled looking away from him.

"You know what I mean Helga. Why didn't you ask anyone for help? Sure, we all knew it wasn't perfect. Whose family is? But no one knew it was that bad."

"Who would have helped me Arnold?" She challenged. "All they see when they look at me is a bitchy bully."

"Yeah, you're right. And whose fault is that?"

She glared at him but looked away saying nothing.

"You've been doing this for years, pushing all of us away. But if we had known, we would have just ignored that. We've all been friends for years. We're here for you, you have to know that."

She was silent as she stared at the bedspread. She was afraid, that was the truth of that matter. She didn't feel safe enough to be herself and open up to her own family, so of course her friends, even ones she'd known since kindergarten, were off limits. She didn't want to give them the opportunity to fail. To find out her secrets and jab her where it really hurt. It would kill her really, if she told them and they laughed or used it against her. She would die. The end.

"You know Helga, I know you must feel absolutely alone, like you can't depend on anyone for anything since your own family can't even do that for you." He paused. "But you are part of our group, no matter how nasty you get. And you can always depend on us."

She looked up at him finally. Tears streamed down her face. He smiled softly.

"Arnold," She drew in a deep breath. "Please don't tell Phoebe.

"What?!" He groaned.

"If you tell her, she will take me in. If she takes me in, she'll never leave in the fall for Princeton. I can't let that happen."

His expression softened for a moment.

"Helga..." He said gently. He sat down beside her, reaching out to hug her. The alarm bells in her head went off.

"No!" She pushed him away, like so many times before that. "I'm serious! I will live on the streets first! I can't do that to her. I care about her too much for that."

She hung her head, letting the tears fall into her open palms on her lap. She had already taken so much from Phoebe. This was the line, this is where she drew it. Phoebe had grown into herself, away from Helga, into an intelligent, independent woman. One blow could ruin all of that, and it wouldn't be dealt by her.

"Okay Helga."

Her head snapped up to his face.

"What?" She whispered.

"Okay. I will not tell Phoebe, or anyone for that matter. I swear." He said holding up his right hand and crossing his heart with the other. She stared at him. She didn't know why this promise surprised her so much. Of course he would keep a promise that condemned her to an unsure future so long as she martyred herself to lift her best friend up.

"Seriously?" She asked.

"Seriously." He said smiling.

She let out a shaky breath.

"Good, I'm glad we got that settled then." She said thickly. She fanned her face quickly hoping to cool down the puffiness and dry the wetness. She suddenly felt unbearably awkward. She could have counted the times she'd cried in front of Arnold, or anyone, on one hand before this week. But now, that's all she seemed to do in front of him. She got up quickly and plopped down with her suitcase to start folding up her clothes.

"I actually have a paper I need to work on if you don't mind. But I would like to ask you a favor before I start." Arnold said from behind her.

"I'm waiting then football head." She flippantly, trying to throw up the curtain she used so often with him. She heard the sound of him stand and kneel down beside her. He grabbed her shoulder and turned her around.

"If you have to, do not go back to your house without me. I know you're a strong woman, that you can handle yourself, but this is not about that. I need to know you're safe. I need to be there with you in case something happens. Can you do that Helga, for me?" He beseeched her, asking with that kind look in his eyes. He seemed genuinely concerned. Instinctively, she wanted to say no. She too wanted to keep him safe. But after the promise he had just accepted for her, how could she? Maybe Bob wouldn't react around an outside party.

"Okay. I can do that." She said. He nodded and stood.

"I appreciate that." He said sitting at his desk. He opened his laptop and let it turn on as he turned around in his desk chair.

"My closet over there is pretty empty. I hate hanging stuff up, I usually just cram it in the dresser. You're more than welcome to use it. Besides, I don't think I can stand the sight of that neon thing anymore." He said gesturing towards her suitcase. He ducked as a wad of socks flew past his oddly shaped head.

"Whoa! You're losing your edge there, Pataki." He teased.

"I'm just lulling you into a false sense of security. The pranks begin once you've fallen asleep." She said dragging her suitcase to the closet. He laughed heartily.

"And what are you going to do exactly? Put my hand in some warm water? I mean, it sounds like a great plan, except for the "me peeing all over you sleeping next to me" thing." He said laughing. She swung a hanger out at him but he kicked off the desk in time and rolled away.

"Nothing like that, football head. Not that I'm going to divulge my evil plans with you, of course." She said tipping her head towards him. She hung up her shirts and began folding pants over to do the same.

"But there are evil plans?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yes. Don't think just because you've taken me in like a lost puppy that I'm going to start acting like one." She smirked.

"Well poo." He said and began typing. They fell into a nice silence. All that could be heard was the tapping of his keyboard and the shuffle of hangers being pushed together. She realized then that they were actually hanging out without screaming their heads off at each other. It was nice for once, to be able to joke around without it getting ugly. She smiled privately to herself as she glanced at his profile as he worked diligently. She knew it would be heaven for her but maybe it wouldn't exactly be a nightmare for him.