~Helga~
Of course Miles had been super impressed with Arnold and his picture-reading smart-guy routine. Between the two of them, it didn't take very long to translate the note Stella had sent us, though translating it from there was an entirely different story.
"This first line here, I think she's trying to say, 'Through a Host most divine,' but then again, this arc over here could make it-"
"Room. In a room most divine," Arnold said while leaning over to reach out and tap the picture, "The box is more of a circle, don't you think? And if it's a circle, then-"
"That makes it room. Good catch, Arnold." Miles reached out and mussed up his hair with a grin.
It was fascinating to watch them translate a few silly pictures- like the most intense game of pictionary I'd ever seen; and I'm a Pataki. I couldn't believe an entire language could be divulged just by a few doodles; doodles which apparently by a few random lines could mean completely different things.
Criminy, and I thought SPANISH was hard. What Miles and Arnold were doing? Now THAT was next-level hard.
I smirked to myself as I watched them inspect each picture. If the green-eyes could do all this with a few pictures, imagine the stories they could tell if they had access to emojis.
"This one looks like fill, like to fill something up. So..." Arnold thought for a moment, though Miles was on the same wavelength and finished for him.
"Filled with. It means filled with. And see this?" He pointed to the symbol next to the one they'd just translated. "Holy, or sacred. That's the symbol of their God, Xtil. He's the one said to be harnessed in the Corazon." Miles explained, then returning his attention back to the paper. "Holiness and grace. So we've got..."
In unison, they read aloud as Miles pointed along with each picture to guide them like the bouncing ball off of some sing-a-long, "In a room most divine filled with holiness and grace."
"Some directions," I muttered while moving to sit down on the jungle floor and rest my back against a tree trunk.
"It's just the first two lines, Helga" Arnold said calmly while looking over to me with a smile.
"Stella has been sending me notes like this for years, remember?" Miles said with encouragement though I looked on to him skeptically. "She writes in riddles." He turned to look to Arnold with a grin, "You're mom has always been something of a poetry nut."
My ears figuratively perked up and I sat up straight at the mention of my favorite p-word. "P-poetry?" I asked, Miles turning around and nodding his head.
"Yeah, why?" he looked between Arnold and I as if for a clue to why my interest had been peaked, but I only pushed myself up to sit on my knees and look at them as they huddled around the mysterious riddled letter.
"Because I'm kind of a poetry master." I admitted with uncensored pride, "That's what I DO, okay? You read pictures, I write poetry."
Arnold nodded his head as Miles looked to him for confirmation. "It's true."
"So what was that first line again?" I asked while picking up a nearby stick and twirling it around with my fingers like a tiny baton.
Miles looked down at the paper and repeated, "In a room most divine filled with holiness and grace..."
I put my stick down into the soil and dragged it across to write out the words Miles had just said and then pointed to them each one by one as I read aloud. "In a ROOM most DIVINE...filled with HOLINESS and GRACE, huh?"
I pulled the stick up to tap it on my chin a couple of times.
"A room? Like in a house?" Arnold asked though his tone didn't appear to be too confident.
Shaking my head, I focused my concentration on the words. "Why on Earth would some random room in an even more random house be sacred and holy? No..." I tapped the soil above the word 'grace' in the dirt. "The temple?" I asked after a moment; Miles and Arnold both turning to look at me.
"The temple," Arnold repeated, "at the old city? That-that could be it! You think she's trying to get us to go back to the city?" He asked his dad excitedly.
Miles nodded his head letting the idea sink in before agreeing completely. "Yeah... it's worth a shot. Their temple is known to be the most sacred place to all of the Green-Eyes. It isn't too far from where we are now, either." He spun around to look at his surroundings as if to place himself to where it was we'd wandered to.
"Next line?" I asked with a grin.
We continued like that for a solid hour, making sure to go over each line hundreds of times before I wrote it down in the dirt underneath me.
Unfortunately, each line wasn't as easy to decipher the way the first two had been.
"How can the Corazon be in someone's face? I mean what are we even LOOKING for? Some punk kid with a face full of piercings or something?" I asked as the sun began to set; the glow washing over the jungle to set the green leaves on fire with it's dim light.
"Maybe it's figurative? Maybe it isn't ACTUALLY in somebody's face..." Arnold suggested, Miles nodding his head in agreement.
"So you two don't think it could be hidden inside the skull of a dead body we have to dig up inside of a cave with bats and ghosts and wild tantric spells? You don't think it could be THAT?" I smirked and crossed my arms with a playful grin.
"Helga..." Arnold scolded and I rolled my eyes.
"Criminy, it was a JOKE. Sheesh. Sor-ry for trying to lighten the mood with a little humor."
Miles was at least laughing, though Arnold seemed a little fed up with my stand-up jungle routine. "How about we just go to the city and find out from there? I'm sure once we look around a bit the rest of the poem will make sense."
But that wasn't a good enough ANSWER for me, alright?
This should have been a piece of CAKE for me. This SHOULD have been Helga G. Pataki's bright and shining moment where she swoops down from below and saves the day like the beautiful, intelligent, amazing, courageous, incredibly independent and brilliant woman that I am.
Was that so much to ask?
For MY moment?
It was bad enough Arnold's glorious Super-Dad was in on our little soiree. I couldn't think straight with him around. All I could focus on was how badly I needed to NOT screw this up- this being a no funny business operation. I HAD to impress Arnold's dad, especially when Arnold already looked up to him with goo-goo gah-gah adoration eyes.
Eyes that hadn't looked at me the way they had back when I thought we were almost going to be something. They hadn't looked at me like that for a solid day now.
And yeah, I'll admit it, I was JEALOUS.
SO jealous.
Fire-burning-lazers, inward flames consuming my organs, THAT kind of jealous.
It made my skin crawl.
We'd been at this jungle adventure together for almost a week now. We'd spilled our guts and moved passed (at least kind of moved passed) our past of hidden-feelings and fake bullying and all that junk, and that was fine and dandy and all. But we still weren't a THING yet. Not officially at least.
And with our journey not even done and Arnold's dad now making our little duet a trio, there was still plenty of time for it all to get ruined.
If I allowed my nerves to get the best of me like they ALWAYS did when it came to being myself in front of anyone else with Arnold around, I could screw it all up the way I usually do and be ALL THE WAY back at square one.
And I was NOT about to go back to being the bully afraid of her own feelings.
Arnold though, seemed unphased by everything that had happened so far. It drove me mad how he stood by his dad's side and talked with him the entire hike to the city while I followed behind them like a backwards tricycle.
You can't be JEALOUS, Helga I told myself as we walked he just found his dad for Pete's sake- give the kid a break!
But I just couldn't.
I'd waited almost as long as Arnold had waited to see his parents for him to return feelings to me. I'd spent night after countless night crying myself to sleep because I knew that gorgeous football-headed angel would never love me the way I loved and adored him.
So I'M SORRY if I feel just a little JIPPED out of my chance at becoming Arnold Shortman's girlfriend.
I smiled absentmindedly at the thought.
Arnold Shortman's GIRLFRIEND.
Miles seemed to think I was... and if Arnold's own DAD thought we were girlfriend and boyfriend, well then cripes, it HAD to be true. Right?
Right?!
As we trekked through the jungle with the sun lowering behind the trees to make way for the moon in the dark sky, I couldn't help but re-think the directions Arnold and Miles had translated from Stella's poem.
In a room most divine
filled with holiness and grace
the answer to which you seek
resides behind the face
My eyes drifted up in my thoughts and watched as clouds began to form and swirl above me. Their heavy charcoal color painted the sky in uneven sweeps like paint over a canvas. A heavy mist shimmered in the horizon like a thick fog, effectively tinting the orange glow of the moon to that of a dark haze blanketing down onto my pale skin as we walked. The deep gray clouds wrinkled like sheets in the sky; safely tucking the glowing orb to bed like a child already fast asleep.
Through eyes of our angel
Light will lead the way
you've traveled high, now travel low
far beneath the light of day.
I repeated the poem again and again, the words burned behind my eyelids with every blink in the dark that I took; Miles slowing up ahead as he decided where we should make camp.
In a room most divine
filled with holiness and grace
the answer to which you seek
resides behind the face.
Through eyes of our angel
light will lead the way
you've traveled high, now travel low
far beneath the light of day.
"We can sleep here tonight," Miles announced with a smile, though my brain was still focused on those haunting words.
You've traveled high, now travel low
far beneath the light of day.
"What I can't believe is the two of you surviving this long on your own out here. Especially through that mudslide and your arm," Miles pointed to Arnold's now re-bandaged arm; the ribbon that once resided there safely in the pocket of my capris. "5 whole days out here. You've already beaten the odds." He marveled, though it hadn't seemed all that impressive up until now.
It just seemed necessary.
"Yeah, by the time we get home we'll be worthy enough to be on that show, 'I Should Probably Be Dead.'" I chuckled while popping the last of my berries into my mouth as we sat around our small fire.
We'd made camp just under the cliff I had fallen off of that led to the cave; figuring it was better to stay away from inside the city this late at night 'just in case.'
After all, La Sombra could be ANYWHERE.
"We probably WOULD be dead if it hadn't been for Taki. He's the reason we even made it La Sombra's camp in the first place." Arnold said matter-of-factly followed by a yawn that outstretched his face.
"Taki? Is that a friend of yours?" Miles asked looking between the two of us.
I nodded my head, a soft smile on my lips. "Yeah. Yeah, he is."
"He'd probably be your friend too, seeing as you saved his life." Arnold added, Miles reacting with a shocked expression.
"How could I have saved his life? I've been in a jail cell for 18 years."
"He was one of the kids," I said softly, his eyes directing to me "one of the kids from the city."
Silence settled between us where we sat around the fire, the knowledge of what I'd said sinking in to his stunned mind.
"But they all-" Miles tried, though Arnold answered before he could finish.
"Not all of them. He fell behind and hid elsewhere. He saw everything- he told us." Arnold clarified, another small yawn fighting its way out of him.
This seemed to take great affect on Miles; his eyes glazing over once again while he shook his head in disbelief. "I watched them... I-I saw, I saw them all..." He couldn't bring himself to say the words to explain his feelings because there WAS no way to explain how he was feeling. .
Arnold reached out to touch Miles' shoulder softly, almost tentatively, and he offered a warm smile. "I know it's hard to remember all of the children who died that day, but Taki didn't." He dropped his hand and continued on, "He may only be one person, but you SAVED his life- you and mom saved a life. And in turn... he helped Helga and I. Kind of crazy how life works." He shook his own head at his musing before Miles joined in with a small smile creeping up his cheeks.
"Anyone ever told you you're great at advice? Even for your estranged dad?"
Arnold chuckled and nodded his head as I chimed in, "Only a million times. He's basically Hillwood's resident free-therapist. I tried to take his job on once... but let's just say that nobody can dish out advice quite like old Arnoldo, over here.
"So this Taki," Miles redirected us back to our previous conversation while leaning in to us, "What all did he tell you?"
"Same stuff you said," I answered with a shrug, "I mean he told us about the prophecy and all, but I'm sure you know all about that."
He looked at me blankly, no indication of understanding on his face.
"Dad you... In the jail cell- I thought you knew it was me? Because of the prophecy? Didn't you-"
Miles was already shaking his head though, "It was a guess... With what La Sombra said and how the green-eyes acted after you were born..." His voice trailed off, my own cutting in to ask more burning-questions.
"You... you DON'T know about the prophecy? The one all about you and Arnoldo over here? You mean they didn't tell YOU?" My questions were spitfire and he couldn't keep up enough to answer a single one.
"We knew about their... fascination with you, Arnold. But like I said- that was only because of how you were born. They found it to be... A divine miracle that you stopped the volcano, but they never talked to us about their stories or prophecies. We only ever talked about the sickness..." He was looking between the two of us almost desperately in hopes to understand what it was we were talking about.
"You want to, or should I, Savior Arnold?" I asked with a smirk, Arnold returning it with a slight eyeroll and then clearing his throat to begin the tale.
"They sort of prophesied all of this. La Sombra, the city being destroyed, the sickness, even you and mom coming here and having me. Everything." He took a deep breath and let it out with a small sigh. "Taki said they think I'M the key to getting the Corazon back. That I'll be the one to find it and deliver it to their hidden-hidden city and save everybody." A small laugh emitted from him then; a nervous chuckle of sorts.
I tried to chime in, hoping if I made light of the last part of the prophecy, it might not sound so ominous and completely crazy. "Yeah and the BEST most CONFUSING part of the whole deal is that the Corazon needs him to-"
Arnold cut me off instantly, "Needs me to deliver it to it's people. I mean, ME. The whole idea is nuts. You know?"
I looked to him curiously, my brow furrowed in confusion. "Arnold, what are you-"
Arnold shot me a warning glare, a glare I hadn't seen from him in what felt like ages and it sent shivers up my spine. "You heard what Taki said. They really believe I can do this." He pushed himself up to stand as if to vacate the conversation as much as possible. "Which I can now, with your help." He offered his dad a smile, who returned it suspiciously.
"And just where are you running off to?" I asked, my eyes locked on him as he stood.
"I'm just really tired all of a sudden. I'm sure you're tired too, Helga. You ready for bed? We have a long day ahead of us."
I couldn't help but laugh slightly at his bizarre behavior; a behavior Arnold only possessed when he was TRYING to lie but failing miserably.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm tired but I still have a few good hours left in me." I reached up to stretch to the sky with a deep breath filling my hungry lungs. "You run along, Hair Boy. I'll catch up in a minute."
"Helga, are you sure? I mean you HAVE been up for almost two days now," he was rambling, panicking to try and get me away from his dad who was watching on completely confused, "And I'm sure you're-"
"Seriously," I answered with a phony laugh that served as it's own warning Arnold seemed to pick up on, "I'm fine. You go ahead. Unless you need a bedtime story or something? A lullaby? Warm glass of milk? Assistance counting sheep?" I batted my lashes at him but he only frowned and gave up.
Arnold sighed with a roll of his eyes and turned around to go inside the makeshift tent Miles and him had made while I 'supervised.' "You'll be soon, right? I just-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, CRIMINY. Can't a girl want to sit up for a few extra minutes before bed?"
His eyes begged for me to understand the silent plea he was giving me- one I completely understood but was ready to disregard the moment he disappeared into that tent.
Arnold knew me too well- he had to have given our history. And by the way he was acting, he knew I was planning on spilling his secret about the sacrifice.
We couldn't just NOT tell him, after all.
Especially since, from the way Arnold looked at him, Miles was the one it would probably affect most.
"Go along, Arnold. She'll be safe staying up with me. I'll make sure she doesn't stay up too late." Miles encouraged with a wink and a smile that seemed to relax Arnold a little; enough to at least get him to give it a rest and finally enter the tent.
Leaving dear-old-dad and I alone.
The light from the moon stayed steadily shining down on us as the illumination from the fire danced on our skin where we sat.
"So whattya think?" I asked after a moment, "Of the prophecy?"
Miles smiled and shrugged; taking a sip of water from the canteen we'd refilled with a nearby stream's water. "It sounds like a prophecy alright."
I rolled my eyes and leaned forward to rest my forearms on my thighs as I sat. "He didn't tell you the whole thing though."
Miles turned to look at me with a brow raised though he didn't look too surprised. "Really?"
"What, you thought that act was just normal football-head behavior?" I asked with a smirk, though I took a breath and continued on with my story. "I think he thinks it'll freak you out. Though, if I were you, I'd probably be freaked out about it too."
"Try me." He pushed before taking another sip of the canteen and then offering me some, though I shook my head as a silent 'no thank you.'
"When we find the Corazon," I started with hesitation, "it's going to be dead. Whatever THAT means, though I'm guessing it just means BROKEN."
His blue eyes watched me intently as I swallowed and tried to continue. "And the only way to FIX it... is for the Savior to sacrifice the thing they love most. AKA Arnold and AKA you and your wife... his parents."
Miles nodded his head as I spoke, the words not seeming to provide the threat I'd thought they would.
"So YOU think, that the thing he loves most... is us? Really? You're WORRIED about me?" I couldn't tell if he was astounded or entertained by the idea, so I took it as the latter and frowned.
"Oh, don't flatter yourself, padre. I've just known Arnold long enough to know he doesn't have it in that big ole heart of his to sacrifice ANYONE, let alone his parents. I thought you had the right to know, is all."
He chuckled and shook his head completely unphased. "I wouldn't worry about me, Helga. Most legends and prophecies are just glorified stories. I think I'll be just fine."
"Suit yourself. I know I'D like to know if certain death was upon me- fancy ancient prophecy or not." I huffed, though at my statement I suddenly wasn't sure if I'd spoken the truth at all.
WOULD I want to know if my time was almost over? WOULD I want to know if all the hard work I'd put in at school (HA, yeah right) and at home (effort at home, yeah okay) and here in the jungle would even pay off in the end?
I sat lost in my thoughts around the fire that danced away. The air was humid despite the breeze, and my body was sweating away both from heat and in fear of the night to come.
"Arnold talked about you quite a bit when we were in the jail." Miles said randomly, pulling me out of my inner thoughts.
"Huh?"
"He said you were his bully, but that you'd turned out to be a lot different than you appeared. That you always had been."
I scoffed, "Sure he did. Like Arnold would go gushing about me to a perfect stranger. Even though you DID turn out to be his dad and all."
"Why wouldn't he? You two are together, aren't you?"
His question felt like a slap across the face; an 'in your face' comment that more pissed me off than anything. HE was the one with all the love and attention, not ME. All I'd gotten was a pat on the back for figuring out we were headed to the city and a cold shoulder since him and his paternal instincts showed up.
It's all in your head, you idiot! I encouraged myself, He held your hand when you were running from La Sombra, didn't he? He gave you that magical, incredibly empowering pep talk behind the hut and kissed you with those tender, sweet, luscious lips just before you were caught, didn't he?
No matter what he HAD done though, it all seemed like a fantasy I'd imagined- like an amazing dream I'd been waken up from just before it got really, really good.
"Together as in...like his girlfriend?" I scoffed trying to appear as if the thought had never crossed my mind, "Nice assumption, but no. Not in so many words at least." I started to scramble for more words as if to cover a trail that was too deep to fill. "Not like it matters. It doesn't matter at all. Not like it would ever actually happen even if it DID, by some chance MATTER. Which it DOESN'T." I frowned.
Yeah because THAT was inconspicuous. I'm sure you really FOOLED him, ya nut.
My heart pittered against my chest delicately, though my emotions were going hog-wild. Tension rushed through my body and before I knew it, my mouth was blurting out words sure to ruin any chance at Miles liking me even for a second. "Why does it matter to YOU anyway? I mean, you don't even KNOW me. I could be a complete psychopath with knife obsession and a troll collection. I could be a secret spy or a serial killer or ANYTHING. You don't KNOW me."
"But Arnold does." It was a statement, the kind I wasn't sure how to take, but it stopped me in my tracks.
He wasn't ACTING like I ruined all my chances with my big mouth...
Eyeing him curiously, I offered a small smile, "You shippin' me with your son or something, Miles?"
He mirrored my look with a confusion all his own, "Well I'm not really sure what 'shipping' means," he smiled, "but I know he cares about you a lot. And if my son cares about somebody that much, I want to support him in whatever it is his heart tells him to do." His words were honest and seemingly heartwarming.
I found it odd how natural it felt to talk to him.
It was the same sort of relaxing atmosphere that followed Arnold wherever he went; the atmosphere that drew people to him without so much as a word.
He was definitely his dad's son.
"And you think his heart tells him to go all feelings-crazy for his high school tormentor?" I asked while leaning back to hold myself up by my hands behind me.
"The tormentor who followed him across the world to help him find his parents, yeah." He smiled again, this time a hint of playfulness glimmering in his eyes, "Maybe."
I chuckled and shook my head in a sort of disbelief, "Sure, Miles. As much as I would like for you to be right, I'm sure when all of this is over things will go right back to normal the way they always have been. Case closed."
My heart ached at my words- begged for me to retract them and throw each pessimistic thought away, but I couldn't help that reoccurring feeling that everything we had been through out here would remain just that- here.
Like the 'What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas' mentality except with waterfalls, crazy thieves, jaguars and mysterious green-eyed people obsessed with a glowing green rock.
All things I'm PRETTY sure Vegas doesn't have.
Either way, I couldn't help the growing-hole of insecurity in my heart that threatened to swallow me up whole and spit me out like used gum to stick on the underside of a park bench.
The fire flickered on in front of us like an old television set; my eyes zoned out on it in the same manor as Bob watching his mindless soaps and goonish game shows.
Miles cleared his throat, "When I first met Stella, I kind of made a fool of myself" he said arbitrarily, his attention also on the flickering flames.
"Really, now?"
"I fell off a small cliff when the ground broke underneath me." He laughed at the memory while shaking his head in embarrassment. "Some first impression I made."
I smirked imagining the scene I'd read from his journal (not like I'd ever TELL him that), "And she still decided to give you a chance, huh? Klutz and all?"
He nodded his head while looking down at the wedding band still enveloping his ring finger. "She was, IS the smartest woman I've ever met. The fact that she fell for a guy like me... modern-day miracle."
"Well," I commented with a full-blown smile, "you ARE kinda old now, so I wouldn't say MODERN-DAY miracle."
"Ha-ha," He retorted with an equally wide grin, "Seriously though, I wasn't sure she would EVER want to go out with me. So I never asked, even though- looking back now -she definitely felt the same way I felt about her."
I watched him suspiciously with narrowed eyes and an open heart.
"She was so smart, though. She knew everything about me before I even did; she was a doctor for crying out loud and I was just some guy who could read pictures on a wall. If she was interested in me, she'd make a move, right? A woman as smart as that would let me know, right?" It wasn't a question that needed answering, the answer having happened years ago in the memory he was recollecting for me.
I answered anyway, "I take it you were wrong, huh?"
"Completely." He chuckled, "Instead making a move, I sat around and wasted every opportunity with embarrassment after embarrassment- you have no idea how many times that woman had to fix my broken bones and stitch me up from countless falls- even though the only thing I was REALLY falling for... was her."
I pushed myself up so I could sit up straight and turn from the fire to look at him. "Yeah, but it's not like you embarrassed yourself on PURPOSE. It's not like you went out with the intention of being a good person only to mess it all up because you were too afraid to be yourself or something." I froze for a moment and collected myself. "I mean... or something. LIKE that." Dumb, Helga, Dumb!
Miles only shook his head though his attention remained on the fire ahead. "No, no that's EXACTLY what I did. I overthought the whole thing. I was trying SO HARD to impress her, that I only freaked myself out and embarrassed myself further. It was a vicious cycle."
"Yeah," I murmured just out of earshot, "I know the feeling."
"It took a while before I realized that being myself was what would get Stella to see I was just as smart as she was, not my constant trying to prove it to her. And after I realized that..." He shrugged his shoulders, "Well- the rest is history."
"Hold on," I stopped him from spontaneous combustion into a pile of lovestruck mush, "So who asked who then? Wasn't that the whole point of your story? To tell me how you finally asked her?"
Miles turned his head to look at me then, a sly smile on his lips. "Sometimes, you don't need a title to clarify what you are with someone." He shrugged, "I never asked. And neither did she."
I crossed my arms, clearly unamused with the sudden turn of events in his story. "You mean to tell me that you never asked her out and she never asked you out you just sort of... started dating? Without saying so?"
"Yep." He said matter-of-factly as if PROUD of himself for his little dad-tale.
"How does that even WORK?" I asked completely astounded at the concept of such a thing.
"Dating is..." he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before saying them aloud, "not all it's cracked up to be. We didn't need a title because we were happy with whatever it was we were doing- being friends, colleagues, like minds, lovers -we didn't need a name to confine us in a little bubble. I knew how I felt about her, and she knew how she felt about me." He sighed and used the stick he had beside him to adjust the branches burning in the fire. "It's the kind of thing you learn when you get older, I guess. When you've been around the block a few times, so to say."
I watched as he poked at the crumbling wood under the heat of the flames, "So if you WEREN'T dating and you were just living your life or whatever, how did you know she'd say yes? When you proposed to her? How did you know you even SHOULD propose to her?"
He was smiling now, a goofy grin that reminded me of a familiar smile I'd seen on a certain football-headed yutz plenty of times before, "Because I KNEW we were meant to be together. From the moment I saw her."
His story rolled around in my head like my brain felt trying to process what he'd told me. The way he spoke had been so raw and so real- the message resounding in me like a song in a church suspended in the rafters.
Maybe not quite as poetically in my own thoughts, however.
No title? NO TITLE?! I practically screamed inside my head, How does that even make SENSE?
I mean sure, I guess you don't NEED a name to be with someone because it really IS all about the feelings and connections between two people. But that doesn't mean it isn't nice to feel like you're... like you...
Like your somebody's own... person.
Arnold's own... person.
I wanted to be that. I wanted that name attached me and one day attached to a finger. I wanted that label to tie me to Arnold forever; his name forever attached to mine. I wanted that 'T' precariously swooped over the other letters of my one-day signature:
Helga G. Shortman.
So yeah, I'd say TITLES were pretty IMPORTANT.
Even if it WAS just 'girlfriend.'
But then again... how important WAS such a title when you're running for your lives in the middle of an unforgiving jungle? What WAS a title but a mere click away on a Facebook feed? Did it matter if we were friends, enemies, partners-in-crime or... or...
Together.
The way I'd always dreamed we would one day be.
Together... Arnold and Helga.
Did it REALLY need a title to be real?
"You know," Miles said after a moment of allowing me to live in my mind, "Arnold is right- you should probably get to sleep. You'll have plenty of time to stay up when it's YOUR turn to keep lookout."
"R-right," I said nodding my head and allowing a yawn to take over my face, "I HAVE been up for almost 72 hours now."
"Almost." He responded, his focus back on the fire ahead.
I pushed myself up to stand and stretch for a moment before taking a deep breath and letting it out so quickly it nearly made me dizzy. "I'll uh... see you later I guess."
"Sleep well, Helga."
I stayed standing for a moment as if waiting for Miles to say something else, but when he didn't I turned around and slowly made my way to the tent. Just at the entrance from where I could see Arnold already fast asleep inside, I looked over my shoulder to Miles as he sat quietly around the crackling fire. "Hey, Miles?"
"Yeah?" He asked while looking up at me.
"Thanks. For uh... for telling me that story." I offered him a small smile that he quickly returned.
"Of course. It's nice to have people to tell stories to. I just hope it didn't bore you too much." Though the look in his eye didn't seem to think I thought the story was boring at all.
It was like he was giving me... DAD advice, or something.
As I crawled into the hut where Arnold softly snoared away from dreamland, I lay my back on the cold ground beneath us and thought through the story I'd been told a dozen more times.
It wasn't until Arnold rolled over and draped his arm around my thin frame that I felt relaxed enough to silence my mind and focus instead on the warmth that he exuded; the warmth I'd been drawn to my entire life.
"Because I KNEW we were meant to be together. From the moment I saw her."
I softly shut my eyes and listened to the rythmic breathing from beside me; my own lungs quickly taking to his rhymm and following suit.
That makes two of us, Miles...I thought before I drifted off to sleep at last.
Light streamed it's way onto me where I lay through the cracks of the leaves making up the ceiling of our tent. I fluttered my eyes open under it's warmth and groaned while rolling over to see nobody beside me.
Nobody beside me.
"Arnold?" I asked groggily, my eyes still adjusting to being awake for the day.
The curtain of greenery shading the morning light from completely spilling into the room rose slightly; Arnold's smiling face peeking into the small tent. "Morning. Sleep well?" I watched as he pulled the curtain off completely to let bright light blind me momentarily.
"You didn't wake me up." My voice was hoarse and I tried to clear the mid-morning phlegm creeping into the back of my throat.
"After your escape plan and all that staying up the night before, we figured you deserved a little extra sleep." Arnold explained seeming extra chipper despite our day's upcoming plans. He looked at me expectantly; his dreamy eyes locking with mine and holding me in place where I lay.
That hypnotizing half-lidded gaze of his mixed with the mid-morning heat and within seconds it sent me into a frenzy; my heart now beating rapidly under his eyes' command.
"Well thanks, Hair Boy. How kind of you." I managed out, though my tone didn't ooze it's usual sarcasm this early in the AM. "Did you and dear-old-dad have a nice time catching up this morning?" I asked suddenly while pushing myself up to sit; Miles coming up to the tent behind Arnold and setting his hand firmly on his shoulder.
"Most of the night too. Arnold got up an hour or so after our little chat." He said with a grin and a wink as. "Ready for breakfast?"
After a well-balanced-diet of some more berries and roots, we destroyed our campsite and slowly made our way- Miles in the lead -into the city once again; the look of it remaining the same as the last time we'd been here.
We paused at the cicty's entrance from the broken cave. I kicked a few of the stray rocks under my feet from where we stood; my attention on the tiny pebbles as they bounced across the cave floor. Arnold stood beside me, my body itching at the sudden heat from his eyes gravitating with worry to settle in my direction.
The last time we'd been here, we knew nothing. We hadn't known the stories of those we cared about; their terrifying experiences here or the gory details of what had taken place. All we'd had were clues- those mountains of ash, that sandle of a child, the countless piles of bones; each thing only tiny hints to a bigger picture we just couldn't see.
And even with only that limited picture, the very scene itself had sent waves of heartbreak surging through my system- so much so that tears had welled in my eyes and my body had lost complete sensation at the world around us in that very moment. All the feelings coming from haunting scenes- scenes that acted as simple outlines of what once was, but what I had also never known of.
Yet through Taki's eyes and through MILES' eyes, we were shown the full picture these last couple of days. Each story only added in the details like colors on a coloring page; a final image now in our heads as we looked out to the once great city for the second time.
It was jarring.
It was alarming.
It was heartbreaking times a million.
Memories I'd never witnessed with my own eyes scattered through my brain as I looked out onto the ghost town. My eyes danced over each remnant of the horrible things that had taken place around us years ago. Arnold's eyes held tight on me, that empathy he'd always had reaching out to put an arm gently around my waist and pull me into his arms which were warm and full of support.
Support, because he knew how much it had had an effect on me withOUT all that knowledge. So with it?
It was a lot to take in.
"C'mon, let's get to the temple." Arnold whispered just in my ear; his cool breath tickling my skin and making the hairs on my neck stand erect.
It only took a few steps into the city with me at his side for Arnold to realize Miles had yet to follow. He turned around, his arm still planted protectively around my waist. "You coming, dad?"
Where Miles stood, you could see a soft glaze gloss over his eyes as he looked out onto what remained of the late-great-city he had once known. The sun's light bounced off of the tear paths staining his cheeks like freshly paved ice at an ice-skating rink and he remained motionless; frozen on the precipice of his haunting memories and worst nightmares.
Arnold's arm slinked away from my body as he turned around to walk to his dad who captured his attention in an instant. "Dad?" he called to him while reaching out to wrap those warm supportive arms around the one he loved most.
"Its worse than I imagined..." Miles said though his voice cracked midway which only signaled Arnold to set those gorgeous eyes on that of his father's. "Everybody's dead- gone. They're all gone..."
"C'mon dad, they aren't all gone. Mom sent us that letter- we KNOW they aren't gone." His eyes drifted out to the landscape of the city, the sun illuminating behind the remaining buildings like a sort of angelic glow. "They're out there; and they're waiting for us to save them." He smiled warmly up at him.
Slowly he pulled him away from the base of the city; Arnold's arm now protectively wrapped around his DAD'S waist as they led the way for lil ole me trailing behind like the tricycle-wheel I was into the city and towards the ever-looming temple.
It was odd to be in the Temple with that sense of deja vu hanging between us as we looked around. Nothing had been touched; each dust particle seemingly in it's place and each dead butterfly still littering the floor. In the center of the room was the strong altar and beside that was the shrine I had admired and even envied over that was shaped identically to Arnold's likeness; the structure now brightly lit-up from the light coming down through the still-weird hole in the ceiling.
Immediately, our eyes scanned the room in search of anything that would make Stella's riddle clearer and easier to understand. Arnold and Miles made their way to opposite walls; their focus zeroing in on the intricate images painted and carved into the ancient stone. I, on the other had, stayed by the altar and merely looked on as the father and son duo geeked out discussing possibilities and translations that neither involved me or even needed my opinion on.
The temple was hot- a humidity you could practically swim in consuming us as we occupied the main room of the temple. Beads of sweat pooled at the base of my neck and then slowly dribbled down drop by drop to disappear into my bra or get dissolved by the fabric of my dirtied pink tank top.
It was uncomfortable.
It was hot.
I was sweaty.
Everything was gross.
Most everything else was dark except for that which was lit by the light coming from the cut-out window in the center of the coned-ceiling.
But all of it together? Now THAT was straight up INFURIATING.
FIRST of all- I don't DO heat. That sounds a little Rhonda Lloyd-ish but it's true. I get flustered and sweaty and I tend to let my sweaty discomfort and heat-induced anger take itself out on the most available of victims- the most available usually being Arnold.
And since he just so HAPPENED to be around and was probably just as irritated and angry as I was, it seemed only natural to allow the 'heat of the moment' take it's toll on me yet again.
Suddenly, that sensation washed over me (not a cold shower, though I could definitely use one of those)- it was the feeling of attending a party that nobody would notice if you suddenly disappeared from, kind of like most of the parties I went to all throughout high school.
Apparently that feeling, the feelings of being out of place, unneeded and most importantly: left out, weren't isolated to snobby parties and awkward 3-person-dates.
Feelings like that could ALSO accompany moments such as this: moments between that of my one true love and his all-too-fabulous father who had stolen Helga G. Pataki's thunder.
My skin dripped cold sweat onto the temple floor; my brow soaking from my body's own tears while jealousy flooded my insides with a hot-headed adrenaline rush I couldn't talk myself out of.
"Any good jokes on there? Fun stories to share?" I asked with chafe while melting into the stone that made up the altar behind me. "Green-Eye horoscopes? Ancient advice columns?"
Miles seemed to smirk although Arnold kept his tired eyes on the wall ahead; sweat staining the dirty flannel now sticking to his back.
With a sigh and a wipe of my forehead with the back of my hand, I tried again. "You guys need any HELP with anything? Refreshments? Words of encouragement?" I pressed while they read and re-read the many lines of hieroglyphics etched onto the wall.
"You want to just focus on the poem?" Arnold called back distractedly; his tone slightly pointed but mostly calm. "Once we're done reading the wall, we can compare notes with the poem."
"Maybe once we pool together our thoughts, the next line will make sense and we can go from there." Miles chimed in though his voice was distracted and faraway- lost in translating.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance at their freakishly-identical response and remained in place as I leaned against the altar; my thoughts filling with the riddled GPS directions Stella had sent us via Jaguar.
In a room most divine
filled with holiness and grace
the answer to which you seek
resides behind the face.
I glanced around the empty temple, my brain committing to memory the scene of our trio hopelessly searching the small space. The three of us could probably fill a small kiddie pool with our total combined sweat, the sun was drifting closer and closer to the horizon in prep for sunset and I was pretty sure there was a blister forming on my heel at that exact moment.
How picturesque.
I tapped the toe of my boot on the stoned floor, the purpose of my sitting out at story-time refocusing in my head; Stella's poem.
I'd thought through it's next lines over a million times and I could probably recite it in my sleep with a rock in my mouth and cotton shoved in my ears I knew it so well. But no matter HOW many times I had thought about that stupid poem while the boys incessantly read that wall, nothing made any more sense than the LAST time I'd thought about it. My mind was full of 'divine' and 'grace' and 'faces' and 'underneath's I could explode.
The poem was bonkers! Each line made less sense than the other. I mean, what could it possibly mean to hide something behind a face?
And the eyes of an angel? What angels DID they worship? It isn't like we took religion classes on the green-eyes back in Hillwood. All WE knew about their beliefs was that for SOME REASON, Arnold was like a saint to them- another God really.
My eyes widened slightly.
Like an angel?
"How's it coming back there?" Arnold asked, his head turning around to look at me from over his shoulder, tiny trickles of sweat racing down the back of his neck. "Any luck? Ideas?"
"Stop pressuring me, Arnoldo, don't you think I'm working on it?" I snapped, my thoughts trying to focus on the possible epiphany I was having in the midst of the thick jungle heat.
"Jeez, Helga, I was just asking.." He seemed hurt and when I looked up, his eyes caught mine for a brief moment before I tore them away to look in the opposite direction as him.
"Yeah well, don't you think if I HAD any sudden ideas or revelations I would have SAID something by now?" I turned back to face him, trapped fire flooding my cheeks after having no where left to go. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest and scowled, "Don't you think I would have said something like, 'Hey, football-head and football-head's dad, I figured out that weird little poem. Want me to tell you about it or should I just let you keep staring at that wall like a couple of idiots?"
This seemed to strike a nerve with Arnold and he narrowed his eyes while pursing his lips slightly. "What do you mean 'weird little poem?' That poem is the reason we're this far in the FIRST place."
I smirked and shook my head from where I stood just beside the Arnold-shrine and the altar. "Newsflash Arnold, we aren't ANY FURTHER than we were two days ago. We're right back where we started, only we're sweatier, more tired and trying to outrun a crazy madman before he KILLS us."
Arnold pushed himself away from the wall now, a heat behind his eyes that matched our hotter-than-hell environment. "We're only back here because that's what you SAID the poem was trying to tell us. What if it's somewhere else? What if this isn't the divine place we're supposed to be looking for? What if you interpreted it wrong?"
Miles looked between the two of us as we continued to pick at each other; pick pick picking like birds at a rotting corpse.
A rotting corpse sitting in the middle of the sun.
The hot, hot sun.
CRIMINY! Why is it SO HOT!
I pulled the collar of my shirt up to wipe at my damp face, "What's more divine than a sacred temple, wise-guy?" My face emerged from the fabric of my shirt as I dropped it to rest back on my body and glared in Arnold's direction.
"Seriously," I continued on, "What ideas do YOU have? What's more sacred and holy to YOU? A bathroom or something?" I paused for affect and then madly continued, "And you know, what if YOU interpreted something wrong, huh? I mean, you HAVE been reading that wall an awfully long time- you sure you know what YOU'RE doing, fubol-cabeza?"
He jumped at the foreign-worded nickname I'd given him months ago; the memories attached to it seeming to halt him mid-snapback which allowed Miles the 'in' he needed to calm the two of us down from ripping each other's throats out in the fashion of the wild jungle animals we were acting like in the Central American tundra.
"Guys, guys, come on now" Miles interrupted, his body turned inward to face the two of us as we stared at each other. "We won't figure anything out by fighting. Now Helga," He turned to me as I sat unenthused against the altar, "I think you're right, about us being in the right spot. I'm sure Stella was leading us to the temple. Why don't you look around some more and try to get a feel for the rest of the poem while Arnold and I keep checking out this wall for any clues we may have missed. Sound like a plan?"
Arnold took a breath to steady himself, his eyes looking at me worriedly for a moment before returning to the wall he'd been studying. I watched him stubbornly, a solid minute passing before I too turned around and met face to face with the OTHER Arnold inhabiting the room.
The stone-carved statue version of Arnold that is.
Behind the sockets where eyes would be shined the familiar twinkle of green gems like I'd noted the last time- a familiarity to anything green-eye people related. They seemed to like putting that touch on everything- that little pop of emerald.
But as I looked closer to those sockets of green, I noticed the gems weren't popping out as if put ONTO a statue- they were almost hidden inside... inside as in INSIDE the head of the statue and behind the face of it.
In a room most divine
filled with holiness and grace
the answer to which you seek
resides behind the face.
"How you doing back there, Helga?" Miles asked as I stared into the eyes of the Arnold statue in front of me. "Find anything interesting?"
They sucked me in, the sunken dimly-sparkled green eyes of the statue, the dark shadows around the dull emerald masking it's real beauty- hiding it really.
"As a matter of fact," a smile seeped from my lips as sweat poised itself on my upper lip. "I did find something kind of... eye-opening."
Arnold turned around, his footsteps soon growing near as he walked towards where I was standing and stopped just behind me. "What's that? You find a clue?"
"Better," I said my eyes set ahead on the green staring back at us from the sunken stone eye-slots "I think I found IT."
"It like... like the Corazon?" Arnold's voice was excitable; Miles instantly turning around to make his way towards where Arnold and I were crowded around by the altar.
"The Corazon? Where?" Miles asked while looking around the room sporadically.
The green glimmered once more as if blinking to me in a sort of recognition.
The answer to which you seek
resides behind the face
Through eyes of our angel
Each poetic word echoed in my head like a song stuck on repeat; the answer blaring in my face and now directly before my eyes hidden in the shadows of a stoic gaze set in my direction.
Criminy... the thing had been here all along...
"It's been here all along." I voiced my thoughts, though Miles and Arnold seemed lost at what I was getting at.
"Where? What are you talking about?" Arnold asked, my arm pointing up to the eyes stone-set on the three of us; a familiar sparkle looking at us from where it lay trapped inside.
In a room most divine
filled with holiness and grace
the answer to which you seek
resides behind the face.
Through eyes of our angel
light will lead the way
you've traveled high, now travel low
far beneath the light of day.
"Time to crack open that football-head of yours," I said with a grin, my head now turning to look at Arnold who was smiling that doe-eyed smile I fell asleep with images to each and every night behind my lids.
Looks like we're halfway there...
Goodness me guys, we are almost at the finish line! I hope you're enjoying the ride!
Time for a little PSA; as some of you know, I pre-plan my entire plots out FAR ahead of time (I assume most writers do) and this next chapter, chapter 22 is what I've been calling the "Chapter of Doom" because it is going to be INCREDIBLY in depth and SUPER MEGA AWESOME... but to ACHIEVE super-mega-awesomeness, it takes some time and a lot of re-reading and re-writing until the finished product is (in my eyes) good enough to post.
Moral of the story is instead of my usual 2-5 day window i give myself to post new chapters, this one might take a bit longer, but DO NOT FRET as I am SO EXCITED for what's to come, there is NO WAY I will abandon this fic. This fic is my baby and I plan to see it all the way through to completion.
So hold onto your bootstraps, review away and get ready for the rest of "Spanish 2 Was All For You," the TJM journey of a lifetime!
S/O to Arnold's Love who is a direct result of this story being even half of what it is. Girl, you are my life-saver and I can't thank you enough- this chapter goes out to you!
REVIEW :)
xoxo
Polkahotness