Once again, the Hillwood Cheese Festival was in full swing. The city park and an adjacent empty lot had been filled with booths, decorations, carnival rides, and tents. Inticing scents of corn-dogs and caramel corn filled the air, noise and light coming from every direction. A crowd of people filled festival grounds, perfect for two people to get lost in, if that was their goal.

Phoebe Heyerdahl pulled her car up to the curb about a block away from the festival and stopped, engine still running.

"Ok, Arnold," started Gerald, confirming their plans. "You and Helga hang out at the festival and mingle, where that Sombra guy's hired muscle won't want to come get you. Hopefully they won't even know you're there. Meanwhile Pheebs and I will swing by the boarding house pretending to look for Helga."

Arnold looked a bit concerned, "Are you sure you're ok with that, Gerald? I mean, it shouldn't be dangerous, but…"

"Arnold, my man, I said I'm doing this. We'll just go in, make sure your Grandpa is ok, warn him in private about Kokoshka, and leave. We'll be in and out in a matter of minutes. Piece of cake."

"Thanks, Gerald. And you too, Phoebe."

"Dōitashimashite," said Phoebe. Then she squeaked, "Ooh, hold on a second!" and jumped out of the car after jabbing the trunk-release button on the dash. She rustled around for a bit in the trunk before returning with an armload of cloth.

"They've seen you today, so they know what you're wearing. This might help a bit, just in case." The smiling girl handed Arnold a forest green zip-up sweatshirt with a hood, and handed a lightweight purple windbreaker to Helga. It was a brisk Autumn night, not cold enough to necessarily demand jackets, but cool enough to wear them.

Arnold removed his flannel shirt and put the hoodie on over the plain gray t-shirt beneath. He pulled the hood up, which didn't totally hide the distinctive shape of his head, but did make it less obvious. Helga slipped the windbreaker on. She was significantly taller and somewhat bulkier than Phoebe, but her petite friend always had a preference for extra-baggy clothing, so it was actually a pretty good fit.

"Got a hair brush, Pheebs?" Helga asked, as she untied the bow from her head, letting her hair down. Phoebe handed her a brush out of the car's center console, the blonde woman quickly tidied up her locks after a long day of pigtails and tangles. There was no way she could go without her bow, not on this night. She pondered for a moment, then tried to tie it around her wrist. It was more difficult to do one-handed than she had anticipated.

Arnold didn't question her need for the bow, he long ago realized there was some similarity between Helga's relationship with her bow, and his own former need to keep his signature little blue hat on his head at all times. He didn't know why the bow was important, he just knew it was, and that was enough.

"Here, let me." He gently pushed Helga's fumbling hand aside as it had once again failed in making the proper loops to form a bow. He took both ends of the ribbon, and with a few simple looping motions had made a perfect bow. "How's that? Not too tight?"

Helga was a little tongue-tied, the brief contact between their hands making her go all soft inside. "Y-yeah, that's great, thanks."

She looked at him for a moment out of one eye, realizing her hair had fallen over the left side of her face while she was working with the ribbon. It always seemed to do that, which was one reason she preferred to wear it tied back. But tonight's outing was all about not looking like themselves, so she could make an exception. Helga noticed Arnold staring at her like he was trying to work out a puzzle. She brushed her hair out of her eyes once again.

"What is it, Football Head?"

Arnold shuddered slightly as he snapped back to his senses. "Sorry, you just reminded me of… It's nothing. Ready to go?"

She nodded, gave little fist-bumps to Phoebe and Gerald as she climbed out of the car. Arnold gave Gerald one of their old secret handshakes, and patted Phoebe on the shoulder. "Thanks again, guys. Helga has her phone, just let me know that Grandpa is safe, ok?"

"Will do. You kids have fun on your date now, got it?" he said with a wink. Helga glared daggers at him.

Phoebe spoke with a giggle in her voice, and just loud enough for everyone to hear clearly, "Oh Gerald, I think you've given her an Ice Cream headache."

"Phoebe!" Helga shouted, eyes wide with surprise. Her friend was already driving away now, clearly laughing to herself as she went.

"What was that about," inquired Arnold.

"I think her little fiancée there is a bad influence on her, that's what."

The pair started to walk down the block, toward the festival.

"They're engaged?" asked Arnold in surprise. "Wow. Good for them!"

"Yeah, he popped the question right after graduation. We all knew it was just a matter of when, not if. Those two have been head-over-heels for each other almost as long as I-" Helga caught herself almost saying too much. "Almost as long as I've known them. They finally admitted it to each other sometime around 8th grade, and that was that."

They kept walking, both smiling to themselves at how lucky their best friends were to have found each other and fallen together so easily.

"The wedding is still a couple years off, they're in no hurry. Gerald was stressing over the fact that his best-man for the event was lost in the Jungle somewhere. Guess that's one problem solved. If you stay, that is…"

She seemed sad when she finished that sentence, as if she wanted him to stay, but didn't really believe he would. Or was he just imagining things? Arnold wanted to ask her about his letter that she had read, finding himself a bit short of the courage to do so. Before he could, the scents of the delicious, artery-clogging fried carnival food hit him full force. They had just walked into the festival proper, and there were mouth-watering smells coming from all sides. His stomach growled loud enough that Helga heard it and laughed.

"You too, huh? We haven't eaten anything all day." Without thinking, she grabbed Arnold by the hand and pulled him toward the food court. A moment later she realized she was holding hands with Arnold, and on reflex she relaxed her hand to let go, but the connection wasn't broken. He was gripping her hand too.

"Um, I figured we'd blend in better if we looked like a couple, lots of them around tonight." She tried not to give a nervous laugh, but did so anyway. "Got a problem with that, Hair-Boy?"

Arnold smiled, "Whatever you say, Helga." She didn't speak, unable to think of a comeback, and wanting only to savor this moment.

Neither let go until they reached the semi-circle of food tents and trucks at one corner of the park. As hungry as they were, the volume of food they intended to purchase was going to require at least two hands each, if not a wheelbarrow. They split up to make their purchases, agreeing to meet back at a particular patch of grass beside the pond at the park's center.


A few minutes later, Arnold walked to their meeting spot. He was carrying two corn-dogs, a tray of deep-fried cheese sticks, a pretzel, and a bottle of Yahoo soda. Not the healthiest meal he had ever eaten, but it had been years since he'd had some proper American junk food, so he had some catching up to do. Arnold sat down beside Helga in the grass, who was happily chowing down on an enormous plate of nachos, with occasional sips from her own bottle of Yahoo. She had clearly opted for volume rather than variety.

The pair sat like that for a while, eating and looking out over the pond. Both stole the occasional glances at the other as they ate. It wasn't that they were too polite to speak with their mouths full, though that was probably true in Arnold's case, they were merely too busy eating to speak.

The unspoken tension between them was also partly to blame for their silence. There had been a few things they had decided to put off talking about until later, and once the food was gone, they would be out of excuses. They both had things to say, things they dearly wanted to say, but at the same time it was just so awkward finding a way to begin. Sure enough, the moment she ate her last cheese-drenched tortilla chip and he downed his last swig of soda, the awkward silence began.

Finally Helga took the plunge. She spoke with a voice softer, more gentle than perhaps anyone had ever heard her use. "Arnold," Helga asked, eyes closed to help steady her nerves, "I did read your letter. Thank you."

"Thank you? For what?"

Helga opened her eyes, the shimmer of barely restrained tears sparkling in the carnival lights. "The day we met, I don't know if you remember it. I was three years old. It was the beginning of preschool, and I was having the worst day of my life. My parents totally neglected me, I had to walk to school all alone in the rain with no jacket, a dog stole my lunch-box… at that moment I was the most miserable little girl in the whole world."

She closed her eyes again and continued. "Then a little boy walked up to me. He noticed me. He talked to me. He shared his umbrella with me. He said he liked my bow." Here Helga held out her left wrist briefly so he could see the cherished pink ribbon he had tied there earlier. "He wasn't actually treating me specially, he would have shared his umbrella with anyone who needed it that morning. That's just the kind of person he is. I don't think he ever knew that it was perhaps the single greatest moment of happiness that anyone had ever given me. For him, being nice was just what he did."

"Helga. I didn't-" Arnold began, but he was softly shushed.

"Sorry, Football Head, but now that I've started, I have to finish this. I'm afraid if I stop now, I'll never find the nerve to start again. Ok?"

Arnold nodded, watching her face as she began to speak again. There was a softness there, vulnerability that seemed unfamiliar. This was Helga G. Pataki, sad little girl. Helga G. Pataki, independent young woman. This was not, however, Helga G. Pataki, schoolyard bully. There was not a trace of that girl to be found.

"I fell in love with you then, Arnold." She steeled her nerves, still not opening her eyes. Seeing his reaction would have been just too much for her to take right now, good or bad. "Right then and there I fell head-over-heels in love with the kindest, gentlest, sweetest little football-headed boy in the whole wide world."

She opened her eyes for a moment, but didn't look up. She reached both hands behind her neck and unhooked the clasp of a silver chain, pulling a golden heart-shaped locket from inside her shirt. She unlocked the latch on the locket itself, but didn't swing it open. Placing it into Arnold's hand without ever looking at his face, she closed her eyes once more.

"It was just a little girl's crush. Happens all the time. Sooner or later the boy does something to make the girl realize he's not the guy she thought he was, and that's the end of that. But you… you never did. I didn't fall for you because you were the most handsome, or the richest, or the most popular kid in class. I fell for you because you were the kindest. And in that, you never let me down."

Arnold opened the locket. Inside he found an old school picture of himself, from ten or eleven years old. There was an inscription inside the lid of the locket, facing the small photograph.

Arnold my soul, you are always in my heart. Love Helga G. Pataki

"I'd seen you with your locket lots of times back then, and I always wondered what you kept in there that was so important to you. Is this really what's been in there this whole time?"

She nodded slowly. "I got a new picture every year, and didn't have the inscription done until 4th grade, but yeah. It's always been you."

"Wow, that's… wow. But I thought you hated me? You said so enough times." Replied Arnold, mentally far off-balance.

Helga sighed. "With my dysfunctional family, I learned to watch out for myself early on. I had to be strong, because nobody was going to be strong for me. Early on, some of the other kids noticed me watching you with a dreamy expression, and they made fun of me. Instinct took over, and I did the only thing that I could. I went on the offense. I denied everything. I bullied everyone until the idea of Helga G. Pataki ever giving a boy lovesick stares just sounded absurd."

"Even me?" asked Arnold, softly.

"Even you. Especially you. I acted like you were my worst enemy every day, and absolutely loathed myself for doing it. However much I may have bullied everyone else, I bullied myself even more. I wanted to tell you everything, but I was too afraid to show my one vulnerability. I couldn't stop myself, no matter how hard I tried."

Tears began to leak from Helga's closed eyelids. She closed them even tighter in an attempt to hold them back, but that didn't help.

"I thought I would get over you eventually. For a while there, I convinced myself that I had done it. But then you come back into town and I start… feeling things. I realize that I had never filled in the gaping hole you left in my heart, I had just wallpapered over it and pretended it wasn't there. I had so many chances to tell you how I really felt, and I blew them all. I just wish I could have… I wish we could have at least… I mean if we…"

There was a loud popping noise, followed by a shrill scream, causing Helga and Arnold to turn and look. They saw a crying little girl holding a string with a bit of frayed rubber on the end. A middle-aged woman hurried to the child, picking her up and drying her tears before walking away in the direction of a booth selling helium balloons.

The spell had been broken. Helga had stopped talking, and now wasn't sure how to start again. She looked at Arnold, searching for some sign as to how he felt about all this. It was a confession over sixteen years in the making, and in a way it felt good to finally have that weight off of her shoulders. At the same time, the anticipation of his reaction was like a bolt of lightning dancing around inside her ribcage.

Arnold stood up, brushing the grass off his pants as he rose. He smiled down at her and offered her a hand up.

"Now what?" Helga asked, blankly.

"Definitely the ferris wheel.

"Huh?"

"Really, Helga?," Arnold flashed her a smile that made her heart melt, "What kind of couple could go to a carnival for their first date and not go on the ferris wheel together?"


To be continued...