Wow! I am absolutely blown away by the amount of PMs and encouraging words from all of you. It really made me feel so much better. As far as the accident…I broke both of my wrists, fractured my arm, and my legs were broken as well. Plus numerous other injuries. On the plus side, my doctor looked like Alex Karev! =] No, he don't fall in love with me =[
The worst part of the accident was being told that I would probably not be able to dance again, and that was devastating, but I'm going to prove those bozos wrong.
Anyway… This chapter changed the game, again, so I have to rethink the ending, again.It is nice to write, though. I wrote some of this before my accident, and the latter part just recently; I hope it doesn't sound disjointed! Title is actually original. Please excuse any spelling/grammatical/formatting errors. I will fix them.
Chapter 11: Desperate Men
Helga avoided me the next day like nothing happened. I would try to catch her eye, but she would stare right through me. I tried to act like it didn't hurt. A couple weeks went by without us really speaking, but then again, Helga didn't even really talk to Phoebe anymore. As we were walking into the school, an idea came over me. I caught up to Helga and pulled her into a janitor's closet.
"Arnold, what are you doing?" Helga hissed. He ignored her question and reached up to turn on the light. It cast a soft glow on the two children. Arnold wasn't sure if the shadows under her eyes were because of the dim light or something else.
"I needed to talk to you," he whispered, feeling as if he had been saying that a lot lately. Helga pointedly avoided his eyes.
"About what? You…you know everything now. All my secrets." She frowned and glared at the floor.
"What happened when you went home?"
Helga shrugged. "Nothing," she tried to say nonchalantly, but Arnold saw her shake ever so slightly.
He moved closer to her. "I need to see. To check and make sure. Lift up your shirt?"
"No!"
"If she's hurting you, I need to know!" Arnold's voice was close to a shout. Helga shut her eyes, then finally looked at them.
"Why? What can you do to help me? Huh?" He could see her fists start to ball up for the first time in weeks. Before he knew, he would have given anything to see Ol' Betsy readying herself for action.
Arnold had no answer.
"You can't be the hero all the time! There are some things that you can't fix, and this is one of them," she said harshly. Helga turned and began to walk away, the shaking more pronounced now. "You can't kiss it and make it better," she said in a softer tone. "I'll figure something out. Or…or maybe they'll lose interest. Or maybe if I started to get better grades, and didn't get in trouble, they would leave me alone. I brought it on myself, Arnold. I knew there would be hell to pay for helping you, somehow."
She turned around and gazed at him. "I'll do anything for you," she said softly.
"Why?" he croaked.
Helga gave him a small smile. "You know why." She fished in her pocket and came out with her pink ribbon. She wordlessly put in in his hand, opened the door and slipped into the hallway.
Arnold made his way to the boy's bathroom unsteadily. He gently pushed the door open and found that, thankfully, no one was in there. He moved to the sinks to splash cold water on his face, and happened to catch his reflection in the mirror. His hair, a dull gold, fell in lank strands around his face, and his cap drooped. Arnold noticed the dark circles and bloodshot eyes. No wonder Rhonda had been so keen for him to accompany her to the spa the next time she went.
The door swung open and Curly walked in, humming to himself. He stopped short when he saw Arnold.
"Um…you okay? You don't look so hot."
"I'm fine" Arnold answered shortly.
Curly shrugged. "If you say so." He made his way over to a urinal. "You figure out what's up with Pataki yet?" Arnold frowned.
"Not really."
Curly studied him out of the corner of his eye and Arnold squirmed. He was never one to make eye contact in the urinals, but Curly had this intense stare that unnerved him, yet urged him to return the gaze. "Look, Arnold, I know that we don't really talk and all, but Helga and I are friends, sort of. We have an understanding. And I bet that whatever's Helga's problem is, the source is Big Bob."
Arnold's glance swung to Curly. "What are you talking about?"
Curly paused, as if he was debating with himself. He sighed, then said, "Word on the street is that Big Bob is in trouble. That when the city was saved, he lost major money…and it wasn't his. He's got people looking for him. And he's got Mrs. Pataki managing the store while he rustles up some fast cash."
"And what if I don't believe you?" Arnold crossed his arms.
"The people I run with…they don't lie. We've had our eye on Mr. Pataki since it came up that he likes to use animals to test his products."
Curly paused. "Desperate men do all kinds of things they wouldn't normally do."
Arnold started shaking and Curly started to back up slowly. "Whoa man, you…"
Before he knew it, Arnold grabbed Curly by his collar and pinned him to the wall. "What else do you know. Tell me. Tell me now!" he yelled
"Ouch! I…I don't know anything else! I swear!" Curly wimpered
The bell rang just then, and Arnold blinked, his hold on the dark-haired boy gone. Curly slid down the wall, his brown eyes wide with something close to fear.
"Curly…Curly, I'm …"
The door banged shut before Arnold could finish.
"...sorry."
"…and that's that really happened at Roanoke Island." Sid finished triumphantly. He looked around as if expecting applause. Instead, there was silence so thick that you could cut with a knife, aside from the sniffling that Harold was trying to keep quiet.
After a couple of attempts, Mr. Simmons was able to speak. "Sid…what research materials did you use for your, ah, report? And how does it fit with the parameters of the assignment?"
"There's this really cool documentary called "Storm of the Century" that my mom let me watch when I was younger. It was a life-changing moment for me because I realized that evil was everywhere, and you have to have constant vigilance." *
"Sid, I'm pretty sure that it wasn't a documentary…."
Arnold tuned the conversation out and stared out the window. Sometimes, and Arnold knew that he was being unkind in his thoughts, he thought that Sid needed to talk to a counselor about his issues.
His hand slid in his pocket and fingered the now well-worn card that Mr. Smith gave him. It permanently resided in his pocket now, and he started the habit of touching it whenever he thought about Helga. Her words from earlier came back in a rush, and Arnold knew she was right. He was no hero, he couldn't fix it.
Could…could Mr. Smith fix it? Arnold admitted to himself that he probably had more resources at his disposal, some that Arnold didn't even know about.
But that would mean that Helga his Helga (for in his mind, this was how he thought of her now) would be taken away from him.
Arnold's eyes wandered over to her. She had gotten even skinnier, and he noticed that she would tug on her sleeves when she was nervous. Her eyes would dart around, moving over the corners and shadows in a way that he recognized from Sid. Helga caught Arnold staring and frowned. He watched her scribble furiously on a piece of paper.
Arnold's attention was momentarily distracted by Mr. Simmons talking about an upcoming field trip, but was brought back by a paper wad hitting him in the face. Arnold glared at her, but stopped when he noticed that she was motioning for him to open the paperwad. He reluctantly opened the wad and read the message:
You want to help me? Meet me by the nurse's office when lunch starts.
He turned around and was about to question her, but the bell sounded and Arnold lost her in the pre-lunch rush.
"Helga, where are we…"
"Shh! First rule of eavesdropping is to make no sound. Barely breathe. Walk on the balls of your feet to minimize sounds," she whispered.
Arnold nodded. He wondered how she knew that, and when she used it.
"I saw Big Bob arguing with the secretary about seeing Wartz earlier." Helga frowned. "I don't know what it's about but I need to know what they're saying. You in?"
"How are we supposed to hear them?" he questioned.
"Follow me."
Helga opened the door to the supply closet next to the nurse's office. Arnold saw that she had already stacked books under a ladder and that it stopped under a heating duct. She scaled the ladder quickly and unscrewed the cover quickly (why did she have a battery operated screwdriver in her pocket?), then shimmied inside. Her head poked out. "Are you coming?"
"Um…are you sure this is safe?" he bit his lip nervously.
Helga rolled her eyes. "Either you do this with me or not. Since you keep insisting on helping me, I thought you should be along for the ride."
Arnold sighed and began to climb the ladder. Once he made it inside the duct, Helga hung halfway out, folded the ladder in half and swung it so that the books fell and looked like they fell from a shelf. She leaned the ladder against the wally, then adjusted the cover to appear like it was on. Arnold looked at her in awe.
"Heh….I've, uh…had practice with it. Now let's get moving." Helga nervously tugged at her collar.
Arnold smiled slightly, liking that the old Helga was shining through, at least for a little while.
After about five minutes of twists and turns, and Helga hissing at him to army crawl because he sounded like an elephant, they reached the area above Principal Wartz's office. They paused to listen, but could clearly hear the voices as Big Bob was currently engaged in a shouting match with Wartz.
"I need my daughter's files so we can go! What is the big freakin' deal?" he shouted. Big Bob's eyes bulged, and he was dangerously close to the principal.
Wartz didn't look ruffled in the least and stood, or rather sat, his ground at his desk. "Mr. Pataki, as I have stated, we need both parents to sign off on the transfer of a student, or at the very least a letter from absent parent or a judge, as well as an address of where the student will be enrolled. You simply cannot take the files; it is a breach of policy." He met Big Bob's gaze evenly.
"I DON'T WANT HER TO KNOW, YOU IDIOT! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! THIS IS NO TIME TO STICK TO POLICY!" The veins bulged in Bob's neck and threated to burst.
"And as I stated, I would still need both parents to sign off on it, or a judge. I have nothing more to say." Principal Wartz began to shuffle some papers on his desk, clearly dismissing the issue. "Good day, Mr. Pataki."
Bob roared in anger and lunged at Principal Wartz, who only managed to duck in time. Wartz dove for the floor and hid under the desk. "Call the police!" he yelled.
Bob seemed to come to his senses upon hearing 'police'. He glared at Principal Wartz huddled on the floor, then flung open the door with such force that it became unhinged. "I'm not done with you, Wartz!"
There was absolute silence from the outer office. A second later, the secretary, Mrs. Jenkins, rushed in.
"Are you alright, Principal Wartz? The police should be here momentarily…." She began to fuss about the office, straightening the mess on his desk and muttering about irresponsible parents. Principal Wartz sat in his chair, dazed. He looked at his secretary.
"Mrs. Jenkins, I may need new underwear."
Helga sunk back against the wall of the duct. "What…what does this mean, Arnold?"
Arnold shook his head. "I'm not sure."
His hands slid in his pocket and felt Smith's card. Maybe it was time to make a phone call.
Constance vigilance is a HP reference, and "Storm of the Century" is a really good movie based on a Stephen King novel. The group Curly mentioned, I imagine is like a really radical offshoot of PETA mixed with the FBI or something. Idk…it seemed like something he would do, ya know? He seems like an activist.
So I will try to update whenever I can. I'm going to be taking a full load of summer classes and lots of PT.
Review please! I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas!
-A