"One too many times I twisted the gate"
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Helga groaned skyward.
"You said you owed me a favor." Arnold said diplomatically. "This is the favor."
"This is more like three favors." She glared in turn at each of the tenants, who, for their own good reasons, were eyeing her just as suspiciously. "And it's been forever. You can't hoard up favors like old coupons—these things expire."
"That's funny. I didn't see an expiration date—" Arnold reached into his back pocket and pulled out a very crumpled sheet of paper. He held it out, eye level, so that she could see it, but slipped it quickly back into his pocket before she could snatch it out of his hand.
"Geez, you're worse than Big Bob!" Helga folded her arms.
"Lighten up. It's only for the afternoon." He stood still, relishing the spring breeze that washed up over the roof and through the open screen door. Cars honked at each other, stuck on the nearby overpass.
"I hate birds."
"Why do you hate birds?"
"None of your beeswax." Helga scrubbed at the spattered floor, grumbling to herself. She side-eyed the nearest perch with wary disdain.
"Chester's sad because you said you hate him. Look at him, Helga." From the corner he was sweeping, Arnold pointed an elbow. Chester cocked his head equally warily.
"Chester can kiss my butt." Helga didn't turn around.
Arnold laughed and shook his head. "You're going to make Fester and Lester jealous."
Helga's disarming glower was swiftly silencing. "That's sick, Arnold."
"Good, maybe you'll stop calling me Mr. Clean," he countered.
The door opened and a veritable menagerie stampeded past her into the street.
"Why, hello there, Pataki. Long time, no see."
"Phil." Helga nodded.
"Was beginning to think you'd moved on from… this town." Phil tapped the side of her leg good-naturedly with his cane. "Good to have you back. Shortman said to go on up to the roof. Got some sort of surprise waiting."
"Thanks. I'll show myself up."
Helga shrugged a shoulder in Chester's general direction. "How old are these bird-brains, anyway?"
"Pigeons can live pretty long. You just have to take good care of them." Arnold smiled. "You know, feed them, love them… like with any pet."
"'S that what your old pal Pigeon Man said?"
"Maybe."
Helga wiped her brow, straightening up proudly. "Well, my relationship with my monitor lizard was built purely on mutual respect. None of that mushy stuff."
"You mean you didn't love him—her—it?"
Helga considered it. "It was hard to stomach the frozen mice. I'll stick with respect."
"But mice and rats aren't—"
"They're close enough." She held up a hand to stop further probing. "Close enough."
Arnold reached up to brush some stray feathers from a ledge into a trash bag. "It didn't eat just mice, if I recall correctly."
"Yeah, Nadine and I became pretty good pals for a while—you should've seen the snack selection—" She abruptly changed tack when Arnold grimaced. "Oh… um, about that…"
"It's okay. It was a long time ago."
"Yeah… aside from that… event… he was a decent pet."
"Don't monitor lizards live for a long time too?" Arnold looked genuinely interested. Helga imagined it was because it was probably the only pet not on his daily feeding list.
"Well, this one was already ancient when I got it. Nobody wanted Winston." She brandished the scraper angrily. "He practically lived most of his life in that pet store. He was ugly and mean and…" she repeated slowly, staring off into space, "and nobody wanted him."
"Seems like he was lucky you found him." Arnold paused and thought for a moment. "Wait, Winston, like Winston Churchill?"
"No. Like Winston Smith."
"Hm. Ironic?"
"Hah, you're the only one who's gotten that, besides Phoebe."
"Whoa! You sure got tall, missy."
"You haven't changed at all, Potts."
"Touché. Tell your little friend Phoebe that when she gets tired'a all that high-brow academia stuff to give me a call. Brand new addition to the fleet's got her name on it."
"You got it."
"Hey, Arnie's up there. Got some sorta surprise or somethin'."
"So I've heard."
"What happened… when he… you know…"
"You mean when he went to meet the Big Lizard in the Sky?" Helga snorted.
Arnold watched Helga curiously, "Yeah."
She sighed. "He was in his aquarium. I went down to feed him and… guess he'd just snuffed it in his sleep."
"That's… comforting."
"Yeah—good thing he wasn't curled up in a vent or something." Helga laughed morbidly. "Could you just imagine Bob's face—'MIRIAM?! Did you put the salmon in the laundry room again?' He'd've had a stroke."
Arnold quickly interjected in case Helga realized how much she'd revealed about her mother. "What did you do, you know… afterwards? That lizard was pretty big."
Helga stopped laughing. "Big? Try gargantuan." She squinted and looked over her shoulder quickly. "Don't tell anyone, okay? My reputation depends on it."
"Why would I tell?" Arnold busied himself with the broom, trying to look as casual as possible while sweeping up birdseed.
"I kind of… borrowed Tim's old wagon. You know, the red one with the handle. I slipped Jamie-O a buy-one-get-one beeper coupon and…"
"Oh…" Arnold stared.
"Sheesh—I brought it back good as new. What Tim doesn't know won't hurt her."
Arnold nodded. "She was pretty attached to her Wally doll—could have been traumatizing. Good move."
"Anyway… Olga happened to be in town that week. I got her to help me… with the burial."
"Where—"
"You know where we buried—tried to bury Eugene's goldfish?" Helga was no longer scrubbing the floor. "Turns out, that hole wasn't too hard to re-excavate." Her shoulders slumped.
"Helga—" Arnold gripped the broom handle.
"I just didn't want Bob to… throw him away or something. Winston deserved dignity, you know?"
Arnold leaned back against the rough wall behind him and let out a breath he'd been holding. "I'm sorry, Helga. That must've been hard."
Helga turned, catching him off guard. They looked directly at each other for a moment. The newly setting sun lit the inside of the pigeon coop on fire.
Helga suddenly seemed desperate to change the subject. "Besides," she coughed, "the only animal I've ever had any luck with love-wise was with a monkey." She sloshed a little water from the bucket onto the floor and started scrubbing again.
"What?"
"Geez, you're on a roll today." She tossed the scraper into the bucket and dusted off her hands. "I'm saying that monkeys can't get enough of me, for some reason. Every time I go to a zoo, they go wild." Helga wiggled her eyebrows and chuckled.
"This I've got to see."
"Oh, no." Helga shook her head energetically. "No, no, no. I am not going to the zoo with you. We already got that checked off the list a long time ago."
"You've been keeping a list of all the places we've been together? Why, Helga, I didn't know you cared that much." He lowered the bag of feathers to the ground and folded his arms.
"What have I said about flattering yourself?" She glared at him from the floor.
He was watching her in a maddeningly irritating way. "Where else do you want to go with me?"
Sweat beaded on her forehead. "Well… heh, would you look at the time…." She hadn't looked once at her watch.
"Huh?"
"I just remembered—" she scrambled to her feet, "—I'm running late. Really late."
Arnold was distraught. "What're you talking about?"
"Hair appointment. Can't miss it. Already canceled it twice." She was through the screen door, Arnold fast on her heels.
"But Helga—" Arnold glanced swiftly towards the picnic table. Behind it, the sun had sunk towards the edge of the roof. Clouds were lighting up orange, pink. "You said you were free all—"
"I don't know why I let you talk me into this." She was rambling, backing away. "Some favor."
"Wait—"
"I cleaned my half of the coop." She already had one foot on the top rung. "We're even. See you, Hair Boy."
The rapid clanging of her feet on the ladder faded and disappeared. Arnold slumped back against the weathered wooden boards and sighed. After he allowed himself a few seconds of brooding, he dragged his feet towards the middle of the roof.
Just as the string lights blinked on, he reached under the picnic table and picked up the bucket of Yahoos. He shook his head and started dragging his feet towards his skylight. He didn't feel like watching the sunset after all.
"What is all this?"
"Hi, Helga."
"I thought you were having me over for dinner with your whimsical family. What gives?"
"Um… well, dinner, yes. Family, not so much. Not tonight, anyway."
The sound of piano music wafted over the tiles, but no one was playing.
"You mean, we're not going to get dragged into three solid riveting hours of Parcheesi?" Helga slung her arm in a gung-ho manner.
"Huh?" Arnold shook his head to detach his gaze from the moon. "No, I don't think so."
"I'm jerking your chain, Lover Boy."
Arnold impulsively grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. When his lips eventually left hers, he blurted, "Sorry—I kind of lost myself there."
"Mm." She kissed him again, harder than before, until he had to finally force himself to turn and lead her towards the empty table in the middle of the roof.
"So when do you want to tell them?" she asked slyly.
"I figured we'd do everything backwards."
"Ah, so you are going to propose."
"Then I'll 'introduce' you to Grandma and Grandpa."
"I see. Better make it quick then. They ain't long for—"
"Helga!"
