"Love is a human religion in which another is believed in." -Robert Seidenberg
Part Eleven: Preparing For the Date
Arnold felt his annoyance reaching its limits as he walked down the street next to Gerald, who was still laughing over his best friend's situation.
"Gerald," Arnold said, inclining his football-shaped head enough to glance at Gerald through half-lidded eyes, giving him a really ticked-off look. "You're really beginning to bug me."
Gerald's laughing quickly became a choked-up snicker. Finally he was able to say, almost breathlessly, "Sorry man. Still, you should have seen the look on your face." Then the snickers started back up again and he laughed out loud some more.
Frowning, Arnold kicked an empty soda can really hard where it bounced off a wall into a nearby alley. A cat screamed, then ran out moments later. "Gerald, why in the world didn't you speak up when Rhonda said all that stuff at lunch?" He asked, looking over at his best friend.
"Hey buddy, even if I had, it wouldn't have done any good. You know our classmates, once an idea is in their heads, there's no telling them different." Gerald explained. "Remember the incident with the bag of money?"
Arnold nodded remembering that all too well. Being tied to the tether-ball pole had not been fun at all. Every one of his classmates, thanks to Sid's big mouth, thought that Arnold was a thief and stole a bag of money that he, Arnold and Gerald found in an alley. Despite Gerald finally coming to his aid, they kept refusing to believe till the person who found it after Arnold lost it showed up.
Ironically, Arnold recalled that Helga hadn't been a part of that incident herself. Funny he'd never thought about that before?
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Arnold conceded finally. Then another thought occurred to him. "I can't believe that Helga actually believed it and even went along with it."
Gerald shook his head, frowning a little, "She probably wants to use this whole 'date' as an excuse to take advantage of you again, like she did back on April Fools Day, remember when she made you carry her across the street and buy her ice cream?"
Arnold thought about that. It sort-of made sense, though it didn't feel right for some reason. Then he remembered briefly about the incident at FTI and Helga kissing him. He pushed that thought away quickly.
"Listen, man, when you get home, just call Helga and tell her that it was all a misunderstanding and cancel," Gerald said.
As he thought about that, Arnold couldn't help remembering how Helga winced holding her bruised knuckles the other day when he ran into her. A pang of guilt from remembering the kickball incident came to his mind. He sighed, "I can't, Gerald. I was responsible for her hand being bruised, I guess the least I can do is take her out."
Gerald stopped, "Arnold man, are you nuts! You and Helga G. Pataki on a date?!" Arnold stopped and turned to look at him. Gerald continued, "She'll drive you crazy and probably make you pay for everything and get her stuff! Listen, man, you don't owe her anything. Just call her and tell her that you're sick. You know that Tasmanian Flu that's going around, or something?"
Arnold sighs, "Maybe you're right Gerald. I mean, I can't really imagine myself on a date with Helga Pataki." The mental images of him taking Helga, dressed in her usual pink jumper and pigtails, to places where she'd yell at or make fun of people came to mind. One in particular was an image of him forced to carry a large tub of popcorn and other junk food into a theater where Helga would yell at the screen and fuss at people for telling her to be quiet. He shuddered slightly.
Then he recalled the worried look on her face when she looked up at him after she'd knocked out that jerk Belch two days ago. The concern he saw in her eyes, if he hadn't been imagining things, made him soften a bit.
Arnold shook his head, "No Gerald, I got myself into this, and I guess I do owe it to her for stopping that bully and getting hurt."
Gerald shook his head, "Hum, um, um. Arnold, you are one bold kid. I still think you're nuts, but bold." Arnold actually sort-of smiled a little at that.
They continued on to Gerald's house on the next street. Gerald looked at him, "If you want me to, I can follow you and make sure that Helga doesn't do anything to humiliate you."
He thought about this, but again shook his head, "Nah, its okay, Gerald. Thanks for the offer, but I think I need to see this through alone."
His best friend sighed and wiped his forehead, "Oh, thank goodness, man. I was worried you actually wanted me to." Arnold shot him a look and sighed, resigned to his fate.
Gerald did say one more thing, "Just make sure that Helga doesn't take advantage of you, man." He said this as they reached Gerald's stoop.
He nodded, "I promise. Gerald, I won't let Helga bully me. Maybe things won't be so bad." He said the last part more out of hope than actually belief in the words themselves.
They nodded and did their friendship handshake, putting their fists together and wiggling their thumbs. "Good luck, Arnold," Gerald said to him with sympathy. "You'll need it."
Arnold gave him a sarcastic look, "Thanks, Gerald, you're a pal."
"Hey call me when you get home tonight." Gerald added. "I wanna make sure you're still alive."
Arnold actually smiled at that, "I will, Gerald." He turned and walked off to his house slowly, leaving Gerald to watch after him sadly, sighing and shaking his head. "He's a dead man."
Helga ran almost all of the way home after school and walked into the house, ignoring her parents—who took no note of her anyhow because they were too busy dusting off all of Olga's trophies and certificates.
She ran into her room and locked the door, then turned to her closet. Opening the door and pushing back the clothes she saw her newest shrine to her beloved Arnold. It was made up entirely of clay with two green jellybeans for eyes. Several of his previous class and yearbook pictures and several photos she'd secretly taken of him were taped up all over the walls around a set of Christmas lights which lit up the whole closet in an eerie glow.
Her previous shrine in the attic was now filled up with a lot of junk that her dad put up there. So she had to return to smaller shrines in her closet.
Pushing the play button on her CD player and playing some romantic violin music, Helga dropped to her knees and gazed at her shrine lovingly. "Oh Arnold, my love, my little football-headed angel of reason. Again I find myself, by a bizarre twist of fate, on our first official date of all things. I am excited and happy, yet troubled."
Indeed, she wondered if forcing him like that turned out to be a good idea after all. On one hand she got the date with Arnold—or at least dinner and a movie anyhow, yet she had to use her usual cunning instead of him asking of her own free will.
"Was it right of me to make you take me on a date by placing guilt on you?" She asked herself. Helga sighed, "I need a sign."
On her left shoulder, a small flame burst and a little red devil that looked like Wolfgang dressed in a red costume and pitchfork appeared. She glanced at him surprised.
"What the h-e-double hockey sticks are you complaining about?" The Wolfgang-devil said to her. "You got what you wanted, so stop complaining about it being right and enjoy yourself."
Helga blinked and then glanced at her other shoulder waiting on the opposing opinion.
On her right shoulder, another burst of flame appeared and another little red devil—one that looked like Ludwig—also with a pitchfork stood there.
"Okay, normally this is where that little wussy angel shows up and tell you to 'do the right thing,' the Ludwig-devil said to her, doing sarcastic quotations at the last part. Then he smirked, "But be both sucker-punched that little dweeb on the way here, so it's smooth sailing. Have a ball Helga ole girl!"
They both disappeared in a couple of fireballs laughing.
Helga smiled her bad girl smile. "So I had to fast talk Arnold. Big deal, I still get to have a date. And the best part is that he's so full of guilt over the whole kickball thing he won't argue. He'll have to go. Boy what a great plan!" She laughed a little.
Suddenly on Helga's right shoulder a small flash of white Heavenly light appeared. A small Arnold dressed in white with wings and a small golden halo appeared. He looked ruffled, one of his wings was bent and he had a small black eye. His halo was also crooked above his small football-shaped head.
Helga blinked, "Oh, what do YOU want?"
The Arnold-angel shook his head at her, "Sorry I'm late." He sighed. "Helga, you're not going to win Arnold's love by tricking him into a date. Deep down you know that too."
Helga sighed. She knew that all too well. All of her past attempts to do so failed miserably.
The Arnold-angel looked at her with those little versions of Arnold's green eyes, "You can't manipulate someone you really love. The best thing to do would be to call Arnold and cancel the date."
Helga frowned and snorted, "Humph! Fat chance! However I managed to get this date I still have it and I'm not about to give it up, bucko! I had to wait this long just to get that much!" She crossed her arms defiantly.
The Arnold-angel looked at her and sighed, "Okay, okay," He shook his head. "I don't like it, but fine you can go on this date. Still, the least you can do is try to be on your best behavior tonight. Don't resort to being Helga the bully. Be the person who loves him. Show him that you're more than just a tough girl with a bully's reputation."
Helga looked at the little angel and said, "You're right!" She smiled. "Tonight I'll show Arnold that I can be more than just some mean, scowling bully. Tonight, I'll show him my softer, kinder side."
The angel smiled and nodded. "Just be yourself Helga . . . your true self . . . and show Arnold that you can be a better person. Who knows, he may even surprise you and show he cares back?"
Helga nodded to him. "You really think so?"
He nodded smiling that cute Arnold smile that made Helga's heart skip a beat.
"Okay, I'll try."
The Arnold-angel nodded, still smiling Arnold's small smile, "Good Helga, now I have to go." He held up a small wooden baseball bat. "I have a couple of sucker-punching little geek-baits to find." He smirked very un-angel-like then and disappeared in a flash of light.
Helga blinked and shook her head. Then she looked around to find some appropriate clothes for her date with her own football-headed little angel.
To Be Continued . . . .
"Where love is concerned, too much is never enough."
-Pierre-Augustine De Beaumarchais
