Masquerade Memory
"Sometimes you break your heart in the right way, if you know what I mean."-Gregory D. Roberts
The music vibrated shaking the ceiling. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was throwing the biggest rager of the year. Anyone who was someone was there. It was a mansion filled with petticoats and corsets. Beautiful beaded masks concealed hundreds of identities in the spacious party. A petite blonde slinked her way in feeling rather out of place in her Victorian pink and black corset gown. It had taken the girl's entire month's salary and Daddy's guilt money to cover the gown. She matched it with a pink clay mask decorated in pink and black Peacock feathers. She was truly pretty as a picture; yet, she knew she was pretty out of place, inside the picture that was this night's party.
"Allow me to escort you to the punch bowl mystery Madame." A smooth charming voice interjected. "Ah, yes with all these feathers it's easy to be blinded and stumble in the bowl instead." She laughed nervously. He was gorgeous; tall, dark, and handsome! His skin was sun kissed; a golden tan, almost as if he were a Greek Sun God, as he extended his hand to her. He had smooth golden cornflower shaded hair. His hair smoothed back like a blonde Greaser kid. He wore a red clay mask that's shape was a masculine match to her pink one. He wore a solid black suit with a red undershirt that clutched at his biceps appraisingly. The stranger was a sexy ten to say the least. She was hesitant to allow this strange boy to lead her around and it was apparent.
"Mother insisted never to talk to strangers." She teased flirtatiously the insecurities of who she was masked. She was a far more confident chick knowing that she was unknown to this boy. "Sounds like your mother didn't raise a fool. You can trust me." He promised briskly. She turned to peer up at the blonde boy. He smiled a vibrant grin. His smile was like the first snow fall of winter. He had such a pure clean smile, his entire smile held an undeniable kindness. There was something familiar in his cheeky grin that made her ponder if he was truly a stranger under his mask. "Do you trust me Madame?" He extended his hand once more to offer her. There was a pause of uncertainty and vulnerability in him as he waited for the girl to answer it empowered her in a twisted sort of way.
"Yes, I do, which is a response you should not take lightly Sir as it is such a rarity." She took his hand and she could feel the warmth through her long dark glove. He squeezed her hand and the warmth seemed to jolt an electric shock of comfort through her body. "Trust me; you're in good hands my friend." He promised and even the promise seemed familiar from a distant memory. What were memories anyway but imprints of inescapable truths? She pondered the concept bitterly before shoving it to the confines of the back of her brain. She was here tonight not to contemplate but to celebrate surviving freshman year.
"I feel like I've met you before who are you?" He asked inquisitive but insistently polite. "The point of a masquerade is not to know Blondie." Both were blonde and beautiful, both witty innovative thinkers, both absorbed in high school cliques of what they should be. It was a high school version of Pride and Prejudice. Their story held a potent dosage of star crossed lovers. Anyone could feel the gravitational pull of love and lust between the two whenever they shared a room. What should they do? There's always repercussions when you're dating in school. They both chose to use the scape goat of the masquerade when in all actuality if pondered it was obvious as to who each of them really were.
"Care to dance then?" He breezed through a topic changer. "No not really I'm not much of a dancer." The intimacy she shared with this mystery man was uncomfortable though her heart screamed for more. They were practically nose to nose. The corner of her lip curled into a smirk as she took in the smell of his mouth. His breath smelled of Big Red chewing gum and she wondered if it tasted of it too.
"Come on, just one dance, dance with me." He whispered caressing her ironed curls.
"I can't. I've got two left feet and too right of a mind to enjoy it." She insisted stubborn as always.
"Well, sometimes when life gives a person two left feet they got to shake it off and keep moving. You're so stunning I think even if you stomp all over my feet I'd insist you do it again." He gave her a million dollar grin. The mask gave him the courage to step out of character in a bold flirtatious manner.
"What if I told you there's other things than just dancing that I want to use my body for." She blurted the words before she'd registered them fully in her head. He had such an appealing and seductive nature. He made her skin burn tormenting her as her girlhood trembled. She was beside herself with shame for needing the boy without ever even seeing his face.
"I want you to want me Helga." He hissed tenderly in her ear. She was taken aback how did he see through her disguise? "I've been able to see through you our entire lives your disguises never fooled me when we were nine and as sophomores they still don't." He hissed in her ear and an invisible chill tickled down her spine as he traced small circles down her back with his finger tips.
"Who are you anyway?" She placed her hand on her hip demandingly as she took a step back.
"The point of a masquerade is not to know Blondie." He mimicked her earlier quote.
"Well consider me Nancy Drew who are you?" She persisted irritable.
"Come with me on the roof top and I will reveal my secret Identity." He joked airily.
"If I don't come with you?" She retorted, "Than my identity is for me to know and for you to wonder." He responded non-chalant.
"You hold a tough bargain, but what the heck, why not?" She caved.
He beamed delighted as he scooped her hand tugging her up the stair well. They climbed up the towering stairs for what seemed like hours to Helga but in actuality was merely maybe five minutes. It was worth the climb and she was glad that mystery man had talked her into it. There was a slightly warm summer breeze and the skyline greeted them with fresh young romance. At the center of the roof was a granddaddy old classical piano. It was an image taken straight off the pages of Helga's favorite Nicholas Sparks novels.
She crept stealthy behind the piano her long slender fingers paler than the moonlight that bathed her skin. She'd been playing piano since she was ten and found it to be her only outlet of emotion as her soul withered with age. The piano keys had a way of singing her woes far better than she was capable of speaking them. Her finger tips caressed the edges of the ivory keys as if hesitantly stroking a familiar lover. Gradually she began to play her favorite composition. Without missing a singular note measure she played Chopin "Chopsticks" to herself almost forgetting her silent audience of a single boy.
"I'm so busy saving everyone else that I have no savior of my own. No one to save me from the emptiness of being a lone wolf. I've never been complete with any other woman Helga. You've always been the one to fill the void even when I didn't realize how deep it was as an orphan child." She knew the boy would have never informed her of his inner heart if it wasn't for his mask and so she let him keep it on a little longer.
"That's deep for a sixteen year old testosterone endowed boy." Her smart ass demeanor winning over her as she stopped playing the piano crawling on top of it. She sat on the hood of the piano relaxed.
"I have a roof top at home and sometimes I just sit up there at night. At school I fit perfect like a leather glove. Yet, I feel like no one gets the inner workings of myself. I feel like a black sheep. What if I just stopped giving into my nature huh? What if I want to be selfish? What if I don't want to feel like the black sheep of society anymore? You know sometimes I wish I were a bird so I could leap off my roof and fly away from it all!" He ranted panting breathlessly.
"I can get that. Instead of flying from society sometimes I wish I could jump out of my window and just fly away from home." She admitted. Why was it easier to bare your soul to someone when expressions were masked? He joined her atop the piano. "We aren't black sheep. We're a mix matched pair that just happen to only fit together. We're a pair of black birds soaring through life lost, until we cross paths again, but as birds always do we fly away from each other until we meet again. Bye; bye black bird." He crooned the last phrase in her ear.
She laid flat on the piano and he leaned back beside Helga. Quivering she outstretched her fingers lingering on his mask. He did nothing to tug her shaking hands away and steadying her shaking fingers she pulled his mask off. Jade eyes peered analytically at her. Her hand stroked his flushed cheeks as he bit his full bottom lip in taking the air deeply. She wasn't surprised that she had been wooed tonight Arnold Phillip Shortman had always wooed Helga Geraldine Pataki.
"Arnold. I never knew you felt this way." Helga was shocked that he could reciprocate her feelings not just romantically but her feelings towards life as well. With controlled masculinity he pulled of Helga's mask tossing it off the roof as if a boomerang but it wouldn't be coming back. They gazed at one another their eyes drinking in every pore and freckle of their faces. Sapphire and Jade eyes glistened gems of a sparkling endearingly strong stone of a remaining love. It was like Romeo and Juliet. They were about to get into a decision that secretly they would never regret.
"What's love to you?" Arnold demanded of Helga.
"Whatever I want it to be." Helga replied matter-of-factly. "No, seriously what's love." He demanded more earnestly. Her Pacific blue eyes skimmed across Arnold's body taking in every thread of his suit.
"Remember our English assignment?" Helga continued her eyes lingering on Arnold's undershirt. "Yeah write a poem about a color." He nodded waiting for her to continue. "What color did you choose?" Helga asked knowingly. They had all been anonymously entered only the English teacher knew who each one belonged to.
"Blue, because I am lonely incomplete, missing my parents, or in a sense always missing something somehow in my life." She didn't know how they'd ended up crossing paths tonight or ended up on this roof top but she was grateful they had. They needed to vent. Since childhood during rough times they'd always managed to confide in each other.
"I chose red." She didn't say anymore. Her poem had been about her devouring but neglected desire for him. Arnold was silent it was apparent he remembered the poem.
"Love is the color Red. When I look at you Arnold I see Red." Helga whispered as he shook with desire. "Helga can I kiss you?" He asked his hand resting on her cheek. "Yes, Arnold, kiss me." Her dust pan lashes fluttered shut as her plush lips parted awaiting true love's kiss.
There are some kisses that are of pleasure. Some kisses that are a reassurance of company. Then, there are those once in a life time sort of kisses. There is that one kiss that throughout life will never be duplicated. There's that one kiss that jolts the body to life and lifts the spirit to the sky soaring in delight. That one kiss that frees you from the bondage of gravity lifting you higher in bliss. The one kiss of a lifetime. The kiss of love; the kiss of two souls sharing the secret of true passion. Arnold and Helga shared such a kiss right there on the roof top. The kiss deepened and two young lovers lost themselves in each other with nothing but the stars to witness them from above.
Helga Pataki lost her virginity that night but gained an experience of forever love. She gained a moment of love that most would offer a thousand deaths just to have if only once. That was Helga's once in a life time night of getting lost in love. She'd never surrender like she'd surrendered to Arnold. She wondered if now he would leave her here barren and exposed on the roof top.
He took off his suit jacket draping it over Helga. "Come with me. Stay the night at my house and we can face reality in the morning." Arnold insisted and Helga held his hand scooping up her dress and slipping it on. Together they walked in a comfortable silence swinging their arms with their interlaced hands. He helped her up his fire escape. Once in his room Arnold kindly offered Helga one of his baseball jerseys as a night gown. They wrapped themselves under Arnold's blankets snuggling together. Arnold did not pursue Helga any further. He held on to her tightly as if he was terrified to let go and Helga sighed feeling unadulterated bliss for the first time in her entire life. They fell into a blissful slumber sleeping better than either had ever slept in their entire existence.
The sun blazed scorching hot. Helga shuffled under the blankets not wanting to face Saturday. She wouldn't mind existing in her Saturday for eternity. She sniffed the humid air and her stomach lurched in hunger. Her nostrils greeted by the scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. "Chef Boy RD at your service. Helga's heart skipped a beat. She clamped her eyes tighter forcing them to stay closed. She knew if she opened her eyes the dream would be over.
"You make my heart skip a beat like I was on Cocaine." Helga admitted grinning with her eyes still shut. She felt the bed sink by her feet and finally fluttered her eyes open. "Good morning," Arnold said somewhat chatty. Helga blushed realizing Arnold cooked them a feast from scratch. She'd been exhausted lately and over slept in his bed.
"Uh, Hey, how's it going Football head," she was flushed with embarrassment morphing from rose to crimson in secants. "Whatever you say Helga," His eyes half lidded in amusement. "Thanks, I'm starving!" Helga said jokingly but in all honesty she truly was. Helga hadn't had a meal in a few days. She blushed rubbing her arms self conscious. Had he taken notice to her frailty last night? "Here have my extra one I made plenty." Arnold assured Helga scooping his cinnamon buns on her plate. Helga knew that was Arnold's way of politely acting as if he hadn't taken notice to her thin structure.
They ate in silence for a moment until Arnold noisily cleared his throat. "Helga, will you catch a movie with me tonight." Arnold wasn't as brave as he'd been when his identity had been concealed. "No," Helga repeated blatantly covering her mouth as she chewed. "Fine, Helga let's get a scoop of ice cream and stroll through the park." Whether it was saving the neighborhood, resolving an argument, or swooping up a date; Arnold was always persistent almost to a fault in his endeavors. "No, Arnold." She repeated stubbornly. "Why, give me one good reason!" He challenged his Hunter green eyes spears stabbing into her psyches.
They peered leeringly at each other both chewing and sipping their orange juice refusing to break eye contact. "Alright, I can give you more than one. Try and keep up now hair boy." She reverted to her security blanket of name slinging. "One your dating Goodie Good. Did you forget you have a girlfriend now? Frankly I never saw you as a cheater but the best disguise is false virtue. Secondly, you are a jock and I'm a Goth ever seen that in the movies? No, neither have I, point proven! Thirdly, you are simply not my type." She sneered rudely. He responded my laughing hysterically which completely put Helga out as she fumed.
"What's funny bonehead?" She jeered. He held his sides taking a deep breath as he prepared himself to counter her comments. "One we've only been dating for two days. Yes, I know what I did was wrong but we can break up, besides she likes Wolfgang not me. I know it's unorthodox but it's of convenience; she knows this too. Do you think I would have the mordacity to date both of you? No, definitely not; the last thing I want is to leave a trail of broken hearts behind me. Secondly, movies are fiction. I know your all into poetic justice and have your nose shoved deep in the asses of your romance novel characters but Doll face this is reality. Thirdly, not your type? That's not what you said on the roof top last night." Arnold lashed out from his wounded pride. Helga pulled her arm back smacking him hard across the face.
"How dare you!" Helga hollered. "I know how I dare give you a taste of your own medicine! That's right I'm supposed to bend over and take your crap right? I've been dealing with it since pre-school, but no more, I'm done playing this cat and mouse game with you Helga." He exclaimed and she shrank back she'd never seen him so angry before. Something in her intimidation seemed to hurt him as his eyes softened already apologizing for the words he hadn't verbally taken back. "Helga I'm sorry."He reached for her arm tenderly. Arnold froze as his jersey sleeve went up and the sun exposed the bruises the night sky had buried. At first he said nothing crushing her into his chest embracing her and stroking her blonde locks. Her body convulsed as she began to sob in Arnold's embrace.
"Who did this to you Helga?" Arnold demanded. "Who did what?" She sobbed coyly. "Who's hurting you?" She continued to cry ignoring his demands. Finally she composed herself. "Arnold keeps your nosy nose out my business." She pushed him away. "I don't want to talk to you again. You see me in the hallways keep walking. I have no words for you." Helga got up and bolted for Arnold's door. That's it? After fifteen years that's all you have left to say to me?" Arnold snapped. "Bye; Bye black bird." Helga stated with finality.
Oh how I wish I could say differently. I wish I could tell you how Arnold chased after her and the made- out as Lila saw and dumped Arnold on the spot. I can't though, this is not a movie, and this is their lives. Life often times does not pan out as we would seek it to. Memories can be dissected piece by piece. Memories can be recalled inch for inch. Memories, however, cannot be relieved and reapplied in different sections. Memories are a frozen moment in time forever lingering in that area of the cosmos; there a memory lingers just as it is for all eternity. This was Helga and Arnold's lifelong haunting memory. Though they would evolve that moment in time would remain primarily mundane. This memory however tragic in its own right was nostalgic for both teens involved. Sometimes we wrongly break our own hearts for right reasons.
WRITER NOTE
I hope that this little side memory can help you understand the prologue as well as Arnold's dream better. Happy reading Thanks for your loyalties.