I've decided we need more of Tim's POV, so I've done it. Btw, who are your favorite characters from MSB? :)
Cha. 14 Arnold's Catastrophe
Tim walked along the school hallway after school, deep in thought. His thoughts weren't on sketching and art right then; he was thinking about his friends. And no, not as in their expressions at a certain artistic moment ... he was thinking about how they had all seemed to change, and yet through that change, become more like themselves than ever. Well, that didn't make much sense.
But Tim knew that Ms. Frizzle was right when she had said very solemnly: "A virus needs to be controlled immediately." Virus might be a funny word, but it was a real word with a meaning that spoke loudly as soon as the kids figured out what their teacher was talking about. But the problem was, viruses hadn't been controlled and now there was an outbreak of kids that were freezing up.
Fortunately, Carlos and D.A. were happy again. Tim was relieved about that. Even Wanda seemed happy, and Pheobe a little less concerned over her friend. In a good way. But Keesha and Ralphie ... Tim sighed. Whenwere they going to work out the issues between them? Why couldn't one of them-namely Keesha-stop to listen to the other side of the story? Maybe Ralphie was innocent; it was the easiest thing to believe.
But ... baseball cards ... ? Then ... ? What if he did take them?Tim pushed the doubts aside. Ralphie seemed too innocent to be blamed for doing such a thing to Keesha, no matter how many times the friends argued. That was what made them friends. They were never bored of each other this way. And yet ...
Tim knew regretfully in his heart that after how Ralphie had squirmed in the cafeteria today, he would never be able to trust him one-hundred-percent about being innocent. He was furious with himself, but there was something in Ralphie's change of behavior that made the doubts arise like little weeds-small, but quick. Maybe he didn't exactly take them ... maybe someone else took them for him!
The brilliant idea lit upon Tim like a spray of fireworks in a dark sky. He turned around and scanned the hallway ... and then another thought came to his mind. If he asked Ralphie such a question, it would be likely for the latter to fire up and storm off-without giving him an honest answer. He wouldn't realize how badly Tim wanted to believe him-like all of his friends did.
"Poor Ralphie," someone said softly next to him. Tim turned around and saw Pheobe there with a sympathetic look on her face. Why did she have to bring that subject up? It was very exhausting.
"And poor us," Tim replied, closing his locker door. "We don't have proof from either side of the story. We can't prove Ralphie stole those baseball cards, and we can't prove that he didn't. And look how hard we're trying to make this right!"
"I know, Tim," Pheobe sighed, tucking her auburn tresses behind her ear.
Tim leaned against his locker and studied his friend. "In the end, Pheobe, don't you think Keesha and Ralphie will have to work it out themselves? Nobody is taking any sides, and they should know that by now."
"What would Ms. Frizzle do?" Pheobe wondered, thinking of their bright and busy teacher who was preparing another field trip to them without their knowledge of it.
"I don't know. But at a time like this, I think we should just leave those two alone; if they want advice, give it. But ... " Tim trailed off. He stared at someone across the hallway. "Pheobe, isn't that Arnold with Tiffany?"
"Yeah," Pheobe agreed after she turned to investigate. "I wonder what's going on."
On the other side of the hallway, Arnold was going up to Janet's locker with an open tomato juice can in hand. Some kids snickered when they saw what he had in his hand, but he tried to ignore it. The only way he had escaped Janet was by agreeing to bring this open can of tomato juice to her locker, since he wouldn't comply with her plan. It was a clever escape, or so he thought, since Janet didn't need him anymore today. It was really a short-lived rapture, but he didn't suppose it was. My pesky cousin isn't as smart as she thinks she is, Arnold thought scornfully, even grinning as he neared his locker door.
And that's when it happened. Tiffany Chamber came around the corner, wearing a bright smile on her face. She came right up to Arnold. "Hi Arnold," she said sweetly, "you wanted to see me?"
"Uh, sure?" Arnold stammered, looking at her stylish sweater. "That looks cute."
Tiffany giggled. "Thanks. It's-"
Splash! Arnold felt his arm jerk forward-the arm that held the open can of tomato juice-and he watched in horror as the tomato juice splashed over Tiffany's sweater-not just her sweater, also her face! It dripped down to her jeans in fat red drops that looked like blood, and soaked into her white shoes.
Arnold, who was horrified at the turn of events, just stood there with his mouth hanging open for a few moments. Tiffany, on the other hand, looked at him in disbelief and furor.
"Arnold!" she screamed, stepping right up to his face with clenched fists at her sides. "You did this on purpose!"
"No, Tiffany,I-"
" You wanted to ruin my new sweater, and-and-everything else I'm wearing!" Tears of rage stood out of the blue eyes of her juice-splattered face. "How could you do this to me?" she wailed, but didn't run away. She just tormented Arnold by the hideous sight of her covered in red juice and yellow seeds, challenging him to answer her question.
"I-I-I don't know!" Arnold gasped, stepping backward and looking pale. "I-I didn't mean to, Tiffany, honest! It was ... " Suddenly, he knew. Spinning around and ready to scream if it were true ... Arnold found that it wasn't. If Janet had been there-and he knew she had been, because he had felt a quick push against his elbow from behind-she was gone now. He couldn't even see her in the crowd.
"Didn't mean to?" Tiffany sobbed, turning to go. "You did mean to, you idiot!"
Arnold hated being called an idiot. He grabbed her arm. "No, Tiff!" he cried. "It was Janet! My cousin, remember? She-she pushed me!"
Tiffany looked at him coldly, then looked beyond him to the empty hallway. Everyone else had gone to their classes. It seemed quite impossible that Janet had been there moments ago. She looked back at Arnold. "Your cousin?" she repeated sarcastically, wiping red tears from her dripping cheeks. "Yeah right. You blame everything on Janet just because she's a jerk, don't you?" With that, she spun around and dashed through an opening maze of gaping students.
Arnold watched her go with a cold, sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach. Once again, he turned around helplessly, groping for some proof that it had been Janet ... but she had done her job well. There wasn't a single red curl or wicked eye in sight!
He hardly noticed Tim and Pheobe run up to him. "What was that all about?" Tim exclaimed, and Pheobe looked tremendously worried. She never felt at rest these days, because her dear friends were doing one thing and then another!
"I ... dumped ... tomato juice ... on ... Tiffany," Arnold responded feebly, looking bewildered. "But I didn't do it."
"At any other time, Arnold, we would roll our eyes and say you were contradicting yourself," Tim said confidently, "but we saw everything. Arnold, let's chat, okay?"
"Yes, Tim, that's brilliant," Pheobe said, backing away with a little smile. "Please do."
Tim smiled and waved, then turned back to Arnold. "So?"
He shrugged. "Okay, I guess."
Tim nodded and led the way out of the school doors and into the bus. There they sat down near the back of the bus and Tim began his lecture by saying, "Arnold, who do you think you are?"
"Uh ... Arnold Perlstein?"
"Then you're correct," Tim said firmly, not putting the answer to waste. "And who does Arnold Perlstein think he is?"
"The only child of Luke and Rebekah Perlstein, nerd of the class, and object of torture to his cousin," Arnold replied mechanically. "Don't be surprised at my forwardness. I've quoted this statement a million times before."
"Now we're getting somewhere." Tim's dark eyes shone for a moment; with pleasure or with an artistic thought, Arnold didn't know. But he did know Tim's head was full of stuff he never dreamed of.
"Do you know that you don't have to be the object of torture to your cousin?"
That was one of the things he had never dreamed of. "No," Arnold replied bluntly. "I don't."
"Well, I can explain it to you." Tim seemed to be enjoying every moment. "See, your cousin wants to be cool. She wants to control someone, to show how 'great' she is. Now, since you're a person that's easily convinced or intimidated, and her cousin, too-she picks on you. She's used to fooling you into making trouble for yourself, and you're used to being fooled into doing these things. See what I mean? It's serious stuff."
Arnold nodded, his eyes wide. Just then, the redheaded girl in front of them turned around with laughing eyes. "Try telling him anything," she sneered. "Arnold's way too smart for you, Tim. Right, Arnold?"
"Uh ... I ... " Arnold stammered involuntarily-it was a habit that he knew Janet rejoiced in.
"Good! Now shut up, Tim"-she flashed him a sudden threatening glare as she stood up to leave-"and draw another picture of me in your sketchbook. Let's see how much you improve. The last sketch you did of me was terrible, and I can't see how anyone would think you're an artist!"
After she left the bus, Tim chuckled quietly. He had wanted to get his irritated feelings down on paper, so he had drawn a careless and insulting sketch of Janet and accidentally showed it to her. Janet hadn't forgiven him, but it made him laugh that she actually thought he couldn't draw better than that.
"So where were we?" Arnold asked timidly, then smacked his head. "I'm such an idiot! I should've refused to agree with Janet. Of course, I didn't, but she thinks I did. Why can't I defend myself?"
"That's what you have to learn, Arnold," Tim said firmly. "If you let yourself be controlled-by a girl, nonetheless-you'll earn yourself a poor reputation. Plus, nobody likes being controlled, and neither do you. So you need to break free from it. The next time Janet tries fooling you into doing something, remember what I told you." Tim was in earnest.
Arnold looked fearful. "But ... but I'll forget," he protested. "I always forget what I'm suppose to know the minute I need to remember!"
Tim inched backward, looking puzzled. "Whoa, slow down, Arnold."
Arnold sighed and smoothed his polo shirt. "Tim, I really appreciate you trying to help me. But when the time comes, I'll forget everything you just said. I'll be a chicken and a coward and a ... well, a weaselly wimp, as Wanda would call it." He looked discouraged. "It's just no use. I can't remember what to do because I-I chicken out!"
"You're not a coward, Arnold, and you're not a chicken. And you're not a ... well, a weaselly wimp, as Wanda would call it." Tim grinned.
"But I forget, because I'm scared," Arnold sighed again. "Janet is very convincing with whatever she says, Tim. There's hardly getting around her."
"But you will," Tim said simply, taking the pen off his right ear with another confident grin.
"How do you know that?"
Tim wordlessly wrote NO, JANET in bold blue letters right in the palm of Arnold's right hand. He took his sweet time, and by the time he finished, Arnold's face had cleared.
"Ooohhh, I get it," he said, brightening. "Whenever Janet tries to get me to do something stupid, I reach my hand up to my hair and say 'I ... uh ...'. But this time, I'll see 'No, Janet' before I can scratch my head. So I'll remember not to do it!" Arnold said happily.
"Yeah, that works for me," Tim laughed, sticking the pen back over his ear. "And whenever it starts fading off, you pen it in your hand again, in bold, dark letters. You'll learn to say no to your deceitful cousin and eventually she'll get used to it and who knows, you might end up being decent cousins."
Arnold smiled as he got up and reached for his backpack. "Thanks for the encouragement, Tim. I won't forget to rewrite that stuff on my hand after I bathe."
Tim rolled his eyes. "You'd better not. Or I'll do it for you at school tomorrow."
"Tomorrow's Saturday!" Arnold corrected merrily.
"Bummer."