Chapter 12

Weekend with Phoebe

Grandpa's Packard, somewhere in Downtown Hillwood

-ARNOLD-

So, there we were, all piled into Grandpa's car, my dad riding shotgun while Grandpa drove, and Gerald next to me in the back seat. As the Packard made its way, I found my mind starting to wander, as it often does. The streets became a dusty frontier trail, the car a stagecoach, the pigeons roadrunners…

"Arnold…. Arnold…Hey Arnold!"

"Huh?" This was a bad habit. I didn't do it as often as I used to, but it still happened sometimes. "Uh, Sorry."

"Off in Arnold-land again, huh. What was it this time, deep-sea expedition?"

"Old West, actually."

"Right, buddy. So, you never told me who we were picking up…"

"Well… I figured we should bring Nadine along. Her best friend's mixed up in all of this, so it's only right that she's in the loop."

"Oh, right, Nadine, which one is she again?" asked Grandpa. "The hippie? The smart one? Or that really annoyingly nice one that's probably hiding something?"

"She's the one that's really into… uh… zoology."

"Of course she is. All girls love cute little critters. Anyway, this is the address!"

The building was a bit run-down but better kept than most in this neighborhood. I hadn't been here since he'd been paired up with Rhonda and Nadine on that "insect fashion show" project that had almost torpedoed their friendship. The contrast between their living conditions had always been striking, and I'd always wondered what it was that had brought together the daughter of a middle-school science teacher and a hairdresser with that of a multimillionaire investor and an ex-supermodel. He'd have to ask one day.

Upon Grandpa honking the Packard's horn, Nadine came bounding down the tenement's stairs, a small box in her hand. She hopped in the back next to me and Gerald.

"So, you're Nadine, I guess. The short man here tells me you're into animals."

"Actually, I hope you don't mind. I brought Harpo with me. She loves car rides," Nadine said, opening the box.

"Of course not, let's have a look at the little JUMPIN' JEHOSAPHAT KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT!"

"It's okay, Mr. Shortman. Harpo wouldn't hurt a fly. Well, she's a tarantula, so, yeah, she would hurt a fly, but… you know what I'm saying."

"Relax, dad, I've seen things in the jungle that make her look like a cocker spaniel." Dad added to Nadine's reassurance.

"Just… keep that thing in the box and we're square." Grandpa said, starting up the car again.

"So… what's with all the secrecy, guys? You said this has something to do with Rhonda?" She suddenly looked nervous. "Did they find her? Is she okay? She's not… oh god…. Do they need me to identify remains?"

"No! No, of course not! Actually… we heard from Helga a couple of days ago. Well, Grandma did. She said that she had Rhonda with her and they're on their way back."

"Oh… that's good news." Nadine visibly relaxed. "So where are we going?"

"To see Pheobe," answered Gerald.

"Oh? I heard she was really sick, and she couldn't have visitors."

"That's the cover story. She's not really sick. What happened to her is way stranger than you could possibly believe."

"Try me. We spent our summer fighting pirates in the jungle, remember? Plus, we live in a city where, well, that happens." She gestured out the window, where Curly was fleeing a mob of Campfire Lasses. "YOU CAN KILL ME, BUT YOU CAN'T KILL THE TRUTH!" he shouted.

"Don't say I didn't warn you. Phoebe… is a mutant."

"Like… X-Men?"

"Well… we haven't exactly seen her yet, but my Mom's been working on her case, and… she says there have been a LOT of changes."

"Well… how bad could it be?"

Million Dollar Industries, upper floors

-PHOEBE-

My parents had relocated all my furniture into my quarters here at MDI on the hopes that waking up in familiar surroundings would improve my emotional state.

I suppose it did, a bit. While the familiar furnishings and décor were indeed welcome, there was still the matter of the different dimensions, the industrial white walls, the incessant hum of fluorescent lighting and the building's ventilation system, and the knowledge that my parents were not just down the hall, but holed up in a motel a few blocks away. No matter their efforts, I could not feel as if I was at home.

Even the simple act of dressing in the morning served as a constant reminder of the changes my condition had brought. Sliding my extra arms into extra sleeves, closing the fasteners of my shirt and sweater above my wings, threading my tail through the slit in my skirt, these were all factors that had to be considered now. And I was unsure if the thought that I would eventually get used to it was reassuring or depressing. Because that would mean that I would be in this condition for the long term. Stuck in this alien body, sequestered from society, separated from Ge- from my friends. Missing school. I shuddered inwardly at this last thought. I had the longest-running attendance record in PS118 history! That was, to use the vernacular, up in smoke.

Dressed now, I exited the room. With quarantine lifted, I now had the run of the upper five floors of the building, as well as the roof. That mostly meant labs, examination rooms, and rooms with equipment designed to measure my new physical abilities. My day was mostly spent in such rooms, with my evenings reserved for keeping current with schoolwork and family time. My parents came with dinner every night, making sure to bring my favorites (breakfast and lunch were sent up from the MDI commissary on the second floor, and were… adequate. Michelin would not be awarding them a star any time soon). There was a lounge on the 36th floor where I could watch TV or make use of a couple of gaming consoles if I so chose. I had not done so yet, but the possibility was there if I craved distraction. Father had also presented me with a modified version of my fencing uniform last night, and suggested we resume practice that weekend. I had been gratified by the prospect, but suggested that competition might be inequitable given the vast increase in my physical prowess. He suggested that I should not be too presumptuous over my victory.

My day was set to start with a standard physical, so I headed to the elevator to take it down to the main exam room on the 37th floor. However, Dr. Shortman was already waiting at the elevator bank, a curios smile on her lips.

"Change of plans today, Phoebe. All work and no play is a poor way to spend a weekend."

Oh, right. It's Saturday. My life had been so disrupted that I had actually forgotten what day of the week it was. Sloppy, Heyerdahl.

"Then, what is on the agenda, Dr. Shortman?"

"Stella, dear. And I think you'll like this. You have some friends waiting for you downstairs."

I stopped in my tracks. "H-here? Now? I-I can't. Please. I'm not ready."

"Phoebe, dear… it's all right. Besides, Gerald's been begging Arnold to get him in to see you ever since you were admitted. It'd be rude to send him home now."

Gerald was here? That just made me doubly nervous! How could I let him see me like this? I could almost picture the revulsion on his face, awaiting the moment he would lay eyes on me. I couldn't take that. It would be the last, crushing blow to my already fragile self–esteem, barely starting to knit together after its nosedive earlier in the week.

"Sweetie, calm down" I suddenly realized that I'd been hyperventilating. "I told Arnold exactly what to expect. Your friends know what they're going to see. Don't worry."

Her reassurances notwithstanding, I still felt as though I was being led to my emotional execution. Still… I am nothing if not a slave to my own polite nature. Reluctantly, I followed Dr. Shortman to my fateful rendezvous.

We approached the reception area. I could see Arnold's father and grandfather talking to the security guard, while behind them, I spotted Arnold and Gerald… and Nadine? Seemed an odd choice, as she wasn't a usual member of our particular clique.

Of course. She was connected through Rhonda. I kept forgetting that it wasn't just me going through this. I cursed myself for my self-absorption. Here I was in relative safety and comfort, while my best friend, and another who, while not as close, was still someone I had regard for, were suffering the same condition in far less ideal circumstances.

Gerald turned toward me, and I could feel my hearts skip several beats as I held my breath, waiting to register his reaction. Fear, revulsion, shock…

I admit I was quite surprised when he immediately broke into a smile.

"Hey, boo." he said, smile as casual as always. "You always did look good in blue."

My cheeks flushed. "H-hi, Gerald," I managed to stammer. "I-I'm… I'm glad to see you too."

"So, this is where you work," Arnold's grandfather commented. "Looks sciencey."

"It is, dad," Dr. Shortman answered. "That is the technical term, by the way. Sciencey."

"Heh heh, look at me, usin' technical jargon!" He whispered to Miles. "That girl's got four arms and three eyes, right? I'm not just seeing that, right?"

The other Dr. Shortman chuckled. "Afraid you're seeing things, pop?"

"You know how it is at this age. The ol' noggin' starts playin' tricks on you."

"In any case," continued the first Dr. Shortman - to avoid confusion, I shall from this point simply refer to them as "Stella" and "Miles"- "science is not on the agenda for today. Today is about Phoebe having fun with her friends."

I pride myself on being an observant person. A few minutes ago, when Stella had brought me to reception, I had instantly mentally recorded everyone's observation. The elder Mr. Shortman's had been a combination of confusion and disbelief, Nadine's surprise and intrigue, Arnold and Gerald's simple relief. It had been Miles' that was the oddest one. It was a look of uncertain recognition. Did I perhaps resemble something he'd encountered in his travels? Were the three of us possibly not the first of our kind? It was so maddening knowing so little about what I was or how I'd come to be. My mind craved answers.

But my soul, at the moment, craved the companionship I'd been denied. I suppose answers could wait a few hours.

"So… this is the lounge," Stella said. "I've arranged for it to be all yours today, so make yourselves at home. "

"Aw, sweet, is that a Swap? I've been buggin' dad for one of those for Christmas!" Gerald rushed over to the system. "Lessee… we got Gasp of the Untamed… FISTS… Glop Stars…"

I sighed. "Boys and their toys, am I right, Nadine?"

"I could go for some FISTS, actually," Nadine said, grinning. "Dibs on Chu-Chu."

Well, that was quick. Apparently I can't live up to a shiny electronic distraction.

As if sensing my disappointment, Gerald backed off. "Maybe we can do it later. This should be about Phoebe. And I have just the thing." He reached into the bag he brought and pulled out a blu-ray. "I present… Jay."

My eyes widened. "Not the red-hot historical hip-hopera featuring the first Supreme Court Justice-slash-Governor of New York? Starring Smith 'Pop Daddy' Williams?"

"You know it. I figured since you love American history and hip-hop musicals…"

"I am extremely fond of both things!" He really does know me! "I know what we're doing for the next four hours!"

"…this thing is four hours?" Arnold said, suddenly not all that enthusiastic.

"I heard it's supposed to be good." Nadine reassured. "Rhonda's parents took her to a Broadway showing last year, She asked if I could go, too, but my folks had other plans…" She looked pensive. Missing her best friend…. No, something else was at work here. There was something in her expression I recognized, I just didn't know from where.

"Looks like we're set. Yo, Dr. S… can we get some pizzas delivered here?"

"I think that could be arranged," Stella said, smiling. "Anyway, how about we adults get out of your way. You don't need us 'getting all up in your biz'."

Arnold rolled his eyes. "Mom, don't try to talk cool. I have to go to school with these people."

"To hell with political pandering!

I will not endorse gerrymandering!"

"This actually is pretty good," Nadine commented between bites of her pepperoni bread (her lactose intolerance precluded indulging in pizza, so we'd made certain to have an alternative available).

"Tell that to Arnold," Gerald remarked, prodding the sleeping boy.

"Wha- Is it over?"

"Just about," I said. "He retires from politics soon after this."

"Oh. Uh… sorry. I, uh, really haven't been getting a lot of sleep."

"I can most certainly relate," I said. "I am worried about them too."

"Yeah," Nadine said. There it was, that look again.

"To absent friends," Gerald said, raising his Yahoo. "May they find their way home soon."

"To absent friends," we all answered.

My thoughts drifted to Helga, and I remembered exactly where I'd seen that expression before. It was on her face, whenever I caught her eyes drifting toward "ice cream", that is to say, Arnold… that quiet longing. Unspoken devotion.

Perhaps she did not devote her time to composing longform poetry or constructing elaborate shrines, but there was no doubt in my mind; Nadine was in love with Rhonda.

Of course, my experience with Helga had made it clear to me that feelings unexpressed were not to be commented on in public. The best I could do was give her what I could only hope was a reassuring nod. However, I hoped I would have the opportunity to talk one-on-one with her. I knew firsthand the toll silence could take. Helga had been so much happier since she'd finally stopped repressing herself around Arnold.

Then again, Arnold had returned her feelings. There was certainly no guarantee Rhonda would return Nadine's. The same-sex factor alone made it a toss-up. And yet… there would at least be a definitive answer.

On the third hand…

"Phoebe? You've been staring off into space for a while. That's usually MY job," Arnold commented.

"Oh. Just… thinking."

"Well, the FISTS tourney's about to start. There's a 2-on-2 option if you want to join.

"Oh… no, electronic gaming is not really my milieu. I'm content to watch Gerald school Nadine."

"Uh, guys…" Nadine interrupted, "we may have to put a pin in that." She held up an empty box. "Harpo got out."

Luckily, the tarantula had only crawled under the couch, and afforded me the opportunity to, for once impress people with my physical rather than mental prowess, by manner of hoisting said object over my head.

"That… is so cool," marveled Gerald. "I'm dating the smartest AND strongest girl in school."

"Y-yes," I stammered. "I… I suppose it is impressive. Though… given that Helga and Rhonda both possess athletic prowess superior to mine, they're likely-"

"…just take the compliment, Pheeb."

"C'mere, honey, Nadine said, scooping up her spider. "Good… looks like you haven't given birth yet."

"You brought a pregnant tarantula here?" Arnold asked, disbelieving. "You didn't exactly think this through, did you?"

"She's not like Chico and Zeppo. She doesn't like being left alone. But… yeah, I can see where this would seem like a really bad idea."

I put down the couch. "Well, shall we resume-"

"So what else can you do now?" Nadine asked.

I suppose this had been inevitable. Up until now, I'd been distracted from my condition. I had almost started to feel… dare I say it… normal? But I'd once again called attention to myself, and naturally, they were curious about the extent of my change. I suppose curiosity was a step up from fear or revulsion.

"Oh, uh… well… we… haven't really gauged the full extent yet. As you have seen, my physical strength is greatly enhanced. I am also possessed of extremely durable dermal and tonsorial tissues…. Sorry. Skin and hair."

"You can fly, right?" asked Nadine.

"I… I suppose so. I've… not really tried to yet. This facility doesn't exactly, uh, facilitate winged travel."

Nadine frowned. "It seems like kind of a waste to have wings and not try them out."

"I don't know. I… I'm still hoping this is only a temporary condition. I feel like… like embracing my abilities will be like closing the books on the original Phoebe Heyerdahl."

Gerald smiled. "Phoebe… you're still the smartest person I know, you still have the most adorable little stammer when you get nervous, you still use a ton of difficult words to say simple things, and you still have the sweetest smile I've ever seen, even with the fangs. I think it's safe to say you're still the original and best Phoebe Heyerdahl."

I felt my cheeks flush. Gerald always did know just the right things to say. "Th-thank you, Gerald."

"See? Right there."

I rapidly changed the subject, as the urge to engage in public affection was becoming overwhelming, and I didn't want to make Arnold or Nadine uncomfortable, especially given the absence of their objects of affection. "Ah, well… it seems the roof would be the proper venue in which to test my new appendages…"

"Sounds like a plan."

And elevator ride later, the four of us stood on the roof. It was a clear, chilly day. I felt oddly energized as the sun beamed down on us. Possible photosynthetic capabilities? It would not surprise me at this point.

But that was something to explore later. We had come here for a single purpose.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and unfolded my wings. I began flapping them, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Their cadence was almost hypnotic.

Scratch that, actually hypnotic. I didn't snap out of my fugue state until I became aware that my feet had not been touching the roof for some time. I could hear my friends calling distantly, as if they were far below.

I risked a look. It turned out I had attained an altitude of at least one hundred feet. Thanks to the illusion of perspective (not to mention the added depth of field that came with having an extra eye), my friends seemed tiny and distant. I had never intended to reach such a height on my first try.

And then I fell.

The three tried to catch me, a mistake as they soon found out.

"I'm sorry," I said, from atop the pile.

"You're a lot heavier than you look," Nadine groaned.

"Yes, well… my muscle and bone tissue have greatly increased in density. It's actually rather surprising I can get off the ground at all." I pulled myself to my feet. I felt sore, but nothing seemed broken. I surmised it would take far more of an impact to cause even a microfracture. "Are you injured?"

"Just my pride," Gerald said, slowly getting up himself. "Good first effort. You beat the Wright Brothers."

"Yes, well, the aircraft is melded to my body…" Still, it had been an experience. Even if at the end it had been less "flying" and more "falling without style".

"Are you ready to try again?" Arnold asked.

"I'm not certain the three of you would survive a second attempt." I said. "In any case, I have had my fill of falling for the day. Perhaps we should resume our previous recreative activities?"

"Is that what you want?" Arnold asked.

"As I said before… I was enjoying just… goofing off with you three. Can we just go back to that?"

"I…. don't get what's going on here." I was confused at the activity on the screen, a chaotic cacophony of elastic-limbed misfits.

"This is Chu-Chu." Nadine said. "She's a Japanese train conductor, with trains for arms." Upon my blank stare, she said "It makes sense in context. And Gerald's character is Don Fusilli, an opera singer who wields the power of corkscrew pasta."

"Right, that clears everything up," I replied with unaccustomed sarcasm. Maybe I was just subconsciously trying to fill in for Helga's gift for snark. And then Rhonda would make some comment about the poor color choices for Don Fusilli's tux, and Helga's eyes would roll and she'd make some withering comment about her intelligence, and all would be well in the world.

Why us? I wondered. Why only us? What did we three have in common? While I spent a great deal of time around Helga, she tended not to cross paths with Rhonda unless it was out of her control. In fact, I couldn't recall a time the three of us were in close proximity with no others present, not since San Lorenzo…

That was it, There WAS something unusual that had happened to just the three of us in San Lorenzo, but it had gotten lost in all the other strange and dangerous things that had happened.

"Excuse me… I have to go find Dr. Shortman," I said, getting up.

"What's wrong?" Gerald inquired, hitting "pause" on the game.

"Nothing really, just playing a hunch," I said.

"Sounds like something important. And it's probably gonna be more interesting than the game."

"You're just saying that 'cause you're losing," Nadine said, dropping her own controller.

"Well… I think I may have a theory on just how this all began."

"Okay, yeah, he's right, that is definitely way more interesting than the one-sided thrashing I'm giving Gerald. I'm in."

"So, it cracked open, and the three of us were caught in the dust cloud that was released."

"And… you had this geode with you?"

"I took half of it home with me. Rhonda took the other half. I don't know what she did with hers, though…"

"The Lloyds might know," Stella mused. "Actually, this'll work out nicely. They're one of the few parents I haven't met yet. In the meantime, I at least have this have to study. Thank you, Phoebe. This might just be the key to this puzzle."

I glanced at the clock. It was nearly 9PM now. Having my parents locate my half of the geode back home in my closet and bring it over (taking necessary safety precautions so as not to infect themselves, of course) had taken quite a bit of time. Now, it was getting late, and I'd squandered a great deal of our "normal" time together.

"I'm sorry, everyone. I had not anticipated the amount of time this would take. I've monopolized our recreation time, and for that, I deeply apologize."

"Are you kiddin'?" Gerald brushed off my apology. "You got nothin' to be sorry for. The whole point of this was to make YOU happy, and I've never seen you happier than when you've got something for that big ol' brain to chew on."

"I guess we should be getting ready to go home," Arnold suggested, noting the late hour."

"Now, hold on," my mom said. "It's not like it's a school night or nothin'. I think what's in order here is a slumber party."

Stella nodded. "I don't see a problem with that, actually."

"An eminently reasonable suggestion," agreed my father. "As long as Gerald and Nadine's parents give their consent, of course."

"I think it's up to Phoebe," Arnold said.

"I think that would be acceptable to… oh, who am I kidding?" I enveloped my parents in a hug. "Oh, THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!"

"Easy there, my cherry blossom," Father gasped. "Your hugs are significantly more crushing than they once were."

"Oh, hush up, Kyo. You can handle it" my mom admonished.

This day had been exactly what I had needed. I had found the first piece of the puzzle, to be sure, but I had found something, perhaps, even more important. I had found that I had my friends' unwavering support.

Perhaps someday soon, there would be a cure. I could return to my ordinary life. Perhaps there never would be one, and this was how I would spend my future.

I had my family. I had my friends. And for now… that would be okay.

A.N. We won't be going into the sleepover, 'cause this chapter's already longer than I expected and I've got other stuff to get to, which I think you folks will like.

Acosta: Harold's got a nugget of the truth, but Stinky's actually pretty close himself. And will the girls feel the urge to quote Darkwing Duck? Depends if they decide to keep up the crimefighting.

Ajay: Yup, that's a Gargoyles reference. And Curly has indeed learned what Helga did… don't corss the Campfire Lasses. And did you guess Nadine?

Next up: a chapter I like to call "Somewhere in the Woods…"

Yup. We're going there. :)