Movin' Out
Try as she might, Helga couldn't keep a smile off her face as Phil drove the Newlyweds to the place she had procured. Her master plan was coming together. And faster than she had expected. Originally, Helga had figured that her biggest obstacle would be in devising a plausible reason for her and Arnold to leave the Sunset Arms. Who would've thought that the old man would surprise her with the greatest wedding present of all—an eviction notice! "Make a right up ahead. . .Grandpa." Helga said hesitantly. It still felt weird to think of him as family. He was a bit eccentric, being ninety years old. Yet he was still about as sharp as Helga could remember him from her childhood. She could see why Arnold was so attached to his grandfather. The man was more than a father figure to him. He had selflessly stepped in and sacrificed the lion's share of his autumn years to raising a kid all over again. And Arnold was old enough himself to appreciate that. Helga hadn't seen much of her grandmother-in-law, however. The old lady still did plenty of cooking. She usually seemed a bit out of her mind to Helga, but Gertrude was mostly harmless. And despite her crazy shenanigans, Helga knew that she would rather Gertie behave that way than be one of those boring grandmas who sat in a rocker, knitting and mumbling to themselves. In the brief time that Helga had come to call the boarding house her home, the elderly woman had been no less a part of the place than anyone else. But now it was time for the coup de gras. This would become her shining moment. With no one around to distract or disrupt her, she would now have limitless opportunities to win Arnold over. She subconsciously rubbed her hands together in anticipation. She would show him what a determined wife could do. And then, he would be hers. It was very difficult to keep herself from chuckling malevolently, but she somehow managed to do so. The grin on her face, however, gave her away.
"You look mighty pleased there, little lady." Phil grinned, lightly elbowing Helga's left arm. "Looking forward to spending some quality time alone in your big, new place?"
"Something like that." Helga grinned, looking quite pleased with the possibilities.
"Grandpa, don't encourage her!" Arnold groaned.
"What?" Phil shrugged, feigning innocence. "Can I help it if I want to seem my grandkids before I got to that great good place filled with mackerel sandwiches and Hettie Lamar and raspberries that don't make me put in overtime at the office?"
At the sound of his grandfather's comments, Arnold began sputtering from the back set as though his world were crashing down around him. In spite of the countless years of Arnold worship she had put in, even Helga herself was taken aback. She had scarcely allowed herself to fantasize about being married to him, it was her most special and sacred fantasy, reserved for those long nights when the world had become unbearable, when she feared what she might do. In those desperate moments, she would shamelessly clutch a pillow to her breast and pretend that she was Mrs. Arnold Short, and her loving, faithful husband would protect her from all wrong. And eventually, she had found a way to turn the fantasy into sweet reality. But the prospect of bearing his children was just too romantic, too overwhelming, too perfect! The sex itself would be bliss, of that she had no doubt. But her mind was open to magic far beyond mere carnal pleasures. Just the idea that she could take a part of everything he is into herself, combine it with part of her, and create an entirely unique and new person—the very notion gave her goosebumps. She wanted it more than anything. Instantly, her mind brought something to her attention that made her gasp involuntarily. It was close! She was nearly ripe for conception! It wouldn't be more than a day or two until she reached her fertile peak. It was a bit after that when the fun part usually began. There were few times that Helga despised being a woman more. Even as a young girl, she had envied the boys. Though she may have been too naïve in those days to know about the joys of menstruation, but she just preferred the way in which the boys interacted with one another. They could be stupid sometimes, but she respected them. Girls, on the other hand, were just too weak. If it weren't for Phoebe, she wouldn't have had anything to do with them at all. Silently, Helga offered a prayer to a God she often doubted that she might conceive Arnold's child and be given a chance at being complete.
I'd be happy to oblige you, Gramps." Helga grinned, turning to watch Arnold as he sank further into the back seat. "After we get settled, what say you leave your grandson and I alone for the afternoon and I'll try to produce some results."
"That's the spirit!" Grandpa hooted. "Oh, she's perfect for you, Short Man!"
"Do we have to talk about this now!" Arnold cringed.
"When else are we supposed to talk about it?" Phil asked.
"I don't know, couldn't we come back over for dinner or something?"
Helga laughed loudly, slapping her knee with the palm of her hand. "Oh yeah, Football Head. I'm sure that would make for great dinner conversation. I can just picture it now. 'So, Arnold and I spent the whole afternoon trying to get pregnant. How was your day, Mr. Hyunh?' I'm sure that everyone will love having that image running around in their heads while they're trying to eat dinner."
"Hey, it'd certainly be better than listening to Kokoshka whine!" Phil protested.
"We're here." Helga interrupted the proceedings. "Pull over." They say in silence as Phil parallel parked his classic Packard. Once Phil shut the engine off, they all piled out of the car and Helga led the trio across the street towards an oversized building. It was light pink in color and slightly set back from the street. Three separate staircases led from the sidewalk to different doors. Helga led them up the leftmost one, producing a key and turning it in the lock.
"I'm still not sure about this." Arnold hesitated, bringing up the rear.
"Trust me, honey, you're going to love it." Helga grinned as she threw the door wide open, revealing the interior. She stepped inside, and Phil promptly followed. Arnold waited, taking a deep breath before finally entering. As he looked around at the spacious lodging, his doubts began to take a back seat. The place was furnished! Helga wasn't fooling around when she had set this up. Arnold had stayed in hotels that weren't as nice as this.
"What did I tell ya?" Helga smirked as she watched her husband's eyes dart back and forth across the living room, taking in its charming décor, wood-paneled walls, and luxurious furniture. If there was one thing Helga had learned at a young age, it was that money could buy almost anything. And this had cost her the lion's share of her life's savings. But if she couldn't spend it on Arnold, then what was the use in having it?
Arnold didn't say anything, he just walked off down the hallway, which opened into a tiny den and a cozy little half-bath, which had a toilet, sink, and a washer/dryer unit. Phil was in the kitchen, admiring the oversized refrigerator. An island range was present, with a large counter following the perimeter of the room. A double sink was installed in the counter, along with a dishwasher and a row of large cupboards. New cabinets could also be found overhead, perfect for storing dishes or cooking materials. Helga was particularly proud of the kitchen. It fell somewhere between classic and space age, and she intended to spend some time in there. While cooking was by no means a hobby, she had done a lot of it throughout her high school years, purely for survival. And there were few things that helped her work out her aggravation more than pounding some dough around and then molding it into something useful.
Phil whistled as he disengaged from the fridge. "Wow, Pookie and I never had a place this nice! This must've set you back a fortune."
"I'd rather not say." Helga blushed a little. "But I wanted it to be a surprise for Arnold. A way to show him how much he means to me."
"Heck, I'd marry ya if I could've live in a place like this!" He chuckled. "Arnold's gonna love it!"
"You should see what's upstairs." Helga smiled, gesturing towards a large, steep staircase in the corner of the living room. She led her elder up the staircase, which opened into a hall with two doors on either end. Straight ahead opened onto a full bathroom. The other doors led to bedrooms. A small linen closet was near the room on the left. Helga soon found that Arnold had wasted no time. He was already lying on a bed in the leftmost room, staring up at the ceiling with a strange expression on his face. "Two bathrooms, hun." Helga nodded. "I figure when you piss me off, I can send you to a different bedroom. I'm kind of hard to please, and I thought it would be a little mean to make you sleep on the couch all the time. It'll also make a nice guest room if we ever decide to have a sleepover with Phoebe and Gerald. And, of course, if we get to work on that baby, well. . ."
"Then you've got yourselves a ready-made nursery!" Phil exclaimed. This is perfect, Short Man! What do you say?"
Arnold looked up at his grandfather, who seemed so happy for him. His gaze shifted to Helga, who was so eager to please, so full of life and love. Would it really be so bad? He looked into her eyes and made his decision.
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Hello, Strangers! By Ginger Foutley
I think I've found my new favorite place. This a proverbial, commercial Mecca. I haven't seen this many stores in one place since my last trip to New York City. But The Big Apple isn't a place that I'm about to take my car into. I doubt that I'd last thirty seconds trying to drive around the streets of Manhattan. But hey, it's good to know your limits. Otherwise, you can find yourself in for a world of trouble. There's nothing worse than being in way over your head and knowing it. And I've been in that situation plenty of times already.
I certainly had a nice drive back down to this neck of the woods. I called into Triple-A for a Triptick and took the back roads. You really learn more about a town by traversing its secondary streets. Literally driving through the middle of a farm is quite an experience. Chickens and cows and horses and all manner of livestock looking at you like you don't belong. The road turns into dirt and runs between a series of barns and you do begin to feel like you're trespassing until the road mercifully becomes pavement again. Then you move out into the secluded sections with the absurdly big houses sitting in the middle of a hundred acres of land, and a driveway as long as a football field. Out in the country, you see people from all walks of life. Rich, poor, simple, sophisticated. They're all out there. It's not really like living in a suburb. My hometown, Sheltered Shrubs, is more of a happy medium. Everything out in the country is far away. You don't just jump in your car and drive to the local Wal-Mart. In many cases, that can be like twenty or thirty miles away. A major restaurant might be closed by 8PM. On the way out, I stopped in this sleepy little lakeside town called Bantam. It was, of course, known best for its lake and the surrounding campground area. And that's about it. And this certainly isn't a time of year for camping out. But there was a cozy little diner, a bed and breakfast, and a movie theater. So I figured, what the heck? The food at the diner was actually pretty good. Very much like a home cooked meal. But the movie theater, I had to stop at that. It was literally inside of a barn. I half-expected to go inside and make my seat on some bales of hay among the livestock. I was a little pointed to find that it had regular seats. There were only about thirty of them, and the movie was so old I'm pretty sure you can see it on DVD. But it was still a quaint experience. I did get the feeling that people were staring at me. I guess when you live in a rural area, a suburban girl like me would seem a bit like a city slicker. I always thought I was old-fashioned. I cook, I clean, I do dishes. I don't mind the role of a homemaker, provided I have the chance to make something of myself. Just because I like being in the kitchen doesn't mean that I feel it's my place. If I'm in there it's because I choose to be. I guess I'm something of a cross between an old-fashioned girl and a modern woman. But between you and I, I don't think that I'm cutthroat enough for Corporate America. I like myself the way that I am. Friendly, but assertive.
It was in New York State that I discovered a beautiful state park called Bash Bish Falls. I was impressed during the winter, I can only imagine how beautiful they would look when in season. There were even facilities to climb either side of the falls. But I didn't much feel like hiking in the cold weather. I sat near the falls, on this big, flat rock, watching a steady torrent of water cascading out of the ice into the pool my rock was stationed in. It's a shame the season was wrong, I had this overwhelming desire to kick my shoes off, roll my pants up, and splash my legs around in the water. It brought back a lot of memories from Camp Caprice, where I spent a lot of summers when I was young. Some years there were better than others. And I certainly did my fair share of rule breaking. I know, it seems a little out of character, doesn't it? But breaking the rules every now and then is fun—as long as you don't get caught. Uh, I'm probably not setting the best example to any of my younger readers at the moment, but sometimes I just have to be brutally honest. By the time I had reached seventh grade, I had gotten really good at avoiding the patrols and arranging after-hours meetings with my friends. A girls get together was always twice as fun when you had the danger of being busted. Of course, nothing compares to the incident that I had there one year. You know, maybe this is as good a time as any to tell you all the good news. I checked into a hotel the night after visiting the park. I placed a call to Courtney and talked to her for over two hours. She sounded very grateful for the call. She's probably worried about me, she doesn't like it when I stray too far from home. She certainly worries about me more than my own mother! But it's nice to be fawned over. Anyway, I definitely convinced Courtney that this trip was more than worth the effort. I pitched an idea to her about Camp Caprice and she went for it! We're going to sign the deal as soon as I get back. Unfortunately, I can't really say anymore until we have a contract, but hopefully you'll be able to figure it out. I'm really excited about this new prospect. This is an opportunity I've never had before, and a newfound inspiration. I think this just might be what I've been looking for, what I set out to find. But don't worry, this doesn't mean that I'm cutting my little trip short. I've needed to get away from it all for a long time.
Which brings me back to how I started out this column. The whole Mecca of shopping thing. I definitely like this better than any mall I've been to. I guess it might seem a little ordinary to some people, but I like it here. I'm in Fishkill, and it's a heck of a town. Plenty of places to shop, eat, kick back and have fun. It's an exciting feeling, being able to go into a shopping district and binge. This is what credit cards were created for. Making a girl happy! But I'm doing my best to get something for everyone. I broke down and bought Carl one of those mini-fridges for his dorm room. Mom's getting a brand new nightgown to curl up in her recliner with. Dr. Dave is getting one heck of a gift card to Barnes and Noble. Robert's getting a new formal jacket. I haven't seen Macie in a long time, but when I do get ahold of her, I'm going to surprise her with one of the rarest Little Seal Girl collectibles on the map. For Dodie, I've bought some materials. I want to make something handmade, the kind of stuff we used to give each other when we were much better BFFs then we are now. I'd like to show her that I haven't forgotten. And for Darren, well, there are some things a girl doesn't talk about! Especially since I like to keep the column PG rated. The last thing Courtney needs is phone calls from a bunch of papers threatening to drop my column because I said something their readers felt was inappropriate. Darren often asks me why I subject myself to that kind of censorship. But I don't feel as though I'm being silenced. I'm just not the most risqué person in the book. But who knows? I've given some though to taking on something like a novel or collection of short stories, so maybe then I'll be willing to get a little more intimate. Until then, more of the same, but I picked up a few more newspapers running this column over the last three months, so I must be doing something right.
Okay, that's it. I'm off to enjoy the heated pool and maybe a Pina Coloda. I hear that there's a whirlpool down there too, so don't wait up for me! I think I'm going to stay in until my skin gets all wrinkled and pruned! Until next week, this is Ginger, having the time of my life.
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"I can't call her, Nadine. I don't have her number." Arnold explained.
"You mean you don't know where she's staying?" Nadine looked puzzled.
"I've got nothing on her. The next move is hers."
"You'd better give me the full story." Nadine paced back and forth, looking exasperated.
"Okay, but you'd better sit down. This could take awhile."
Arnold spent the next half hour filling Nadine in, giving her the Cliffs Notes version of his marriage with Helga, catching the girl up with the point he was at with Rhonda.
"Sounds serious." Nadine observed, standing by a large window.
"Worse." Rhonda sighed. "As you can see, Arnold's knack for girl troubles hasn't dissipated over the years."
"His problem is that he cares too much, he's always been like that." Nadine shook her head. "I wonder if he'll ever be able to choose between you two."
"You know, I'm sitting right here!" Arnold crowed.
"Someone has to be honest." Nadine shrugged. "Arnold, what is it that you really want?"
"I don't even know anymore." Arnold held his head in his hands. "I wish none of this had ever happened."
"Gee, thanks Arnold." Rhonda crossed her arms. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special!"
"Didn't you say it yourself!" Arnold howled. "Whatever I do, it's going to hurt somebody! And I know, I know how it must hurt so badly to wait and not know what's in the future. But I'm not having fun, Rhonda. I am in hell! I'm in hell, and no matter how hard I try, I can't find a way to cleft myself in twain! I can't look at you, I can't look at Helga—and tell you that I don't love you. Because it's a lie! I can't dash either of your expectations. I can't tell either of you that your love isn't good enough! I can't just sit here and do nothing. I feel like everything is just a damned mess and no matter what I do or say it'll only become worse!"
Silence followed Arnold's outburst, quiet and merciful, not a one of them able to come up with a reasonable response. But Nadine finally found the courage to speak. "Helga left you." She shook her head.
"Yes. She did."
"Do you have any idea why?"
"She said something about needing to find herself." Arnold sighed. "But it seemed to me that she was just running away."
"And what about Rhonda?"
"What about me?" The rich girl huffed, not liking the direction this conversation was taking.
"Well, why did you leave Arnold?" Nadine asked.
"Because I was stupid. But if you want the gory details, it was out of the insistence of my parents."
"But you changed your mind?" Nadine raised an eyebrow.
Rhonda scoffed. "Didn't take me very long, did it? I guess maybe all it took was knowing that he was in the arms of another woman—one that was making him happy. But it's more than that. I didn't come back to Arnold because I was jealous. If that were the case, I would've tried to break up his marriage somehow. But I'm not a home wrecker. Even if it would've left me crying my eyes out for month, I would've accepted Arnold's moving on. But I didn't have to. Helga left him. She gave me an opening. And I don't care what anyone thinks of me for it. I had every right to be here."
"Even if you've ended up confusing him even more?"
Arnold sighed. "It doesn't matter. Even if Rhonda hadn't entered the picture, a part of me is always going to love her, regardless of what happens. Sometimes I wonder if that was Helga's real reason for leaving. If she sensed somehow that I wasn't all there."
"I suppose you would have to ask her." Nadine shrugged. "Great, that's not getting us anywhere. And I thought I really had something for a minute."
"Helga is the piece that's missing from the equation. It's just like her, though. In the jigsaw puzzle of life, she's that one stubborn piece that you can't figure out until the whole puzzle is put together. The last one."
"Yeah, that definitely sounds like Helga." Rhonda admitted. "So where does that leave us?"
"Helga called me earlier." Arnold volunteered.
"She what?" Rhonda choked.
"She wouldn't say anything. Not even hello. But I know it was her. It had to have been her. I tried to talk to her. I pleaded with her. But she wouldn't say anything."
Nadine lit up. "She'll call back, Arnold. I guarantee it."
"What makes you so sure?" Rhonda asked.
"Because she's no fool. She may be trying to figure some stuff out for herself now, like she said. But if Helga sits back and lets you get back together with Arnold without a fight…heck, I'll bet my ant farm she shows up, one way or another. She's always been drawn to Arnold. She won't stay away for long."
"You make it sound as though he's bait!" Rhonda frowned.
"Well, in a manner of speaking, he is. The bait that Helga can't refuse. She'll put her two cents in, I guarantee it. Actually, she'll probably put a whole silver dollar in."
"She will." Arnold nodded. "So, what do you think? We should just wait for her?"
"Might as well. You sound like you're just driving yourself crazy. Anyway, then you can at least finish this story."
"At this point, I guess it couldn't hurt." Arnold nodded. "All right then. This is where I really began to wade knee-deep into the kimshee. Helga and I had just moved out on our own, and. . ."
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Author's Notes
I'm sorry that I couldn't do more this week, but I kept finding things that I had to do which began to cut into my writing time to the point where I began to worry I wouldn't make it again. But somehow, I put it all together! Oh yeah, I'm good! There aren't enough hours in the day, I tell you!
Anyway, as some of you may have noticed, I posted a new fic entitled "Expectations." That title is getting scrapped with the next update in a day or two, so for those following that story, look for it to be called "Gravity" from now on. I think it's a lot better. Now I know what some of you are thinking…doesn't IG keep you busy enough? Aren't you already co-authoring a fanfic for The Weekenders and another for Teen Titans? Are you trying to kill yourself? Maybe, I really don't know. I still don't know what has possessed me to write a Rugrats/All Grown Up fanfic, but something has. Maybe it's just my valentine to the fans. Or an attempt to take over all forms of cartoon fanfiction. Bwahahahahahaha! Ha, ha, ha….ahem, excuse me. Actually, it's just a story that popped into my head for reasons I can't explain but which I can't stop thinking about lately, so I guess it has to be told. For those who don't want to follow it, I can assure you that "Gravity" is a story on a much smaller scale, I don't expect it to run more than ten or fifteen chapters, and it doesn't have countless, complex plot lines. So I'm not making a tremendous commitment. Which is good, because I'd probably have killed myself by now if I had to write another fic as complicated as IG! To those who have already reviewed it, thanks so much. Anyone who hasn't checked it out, feel free too. I'm always at my most anxious for feedback when I try something new and completely untested.
I've been bad about review responses lately, and I'm sorry. I appreciate every single review I get and I promise to make an effort to do better. But my new hours at work have definitely been getting the best of me, and I'm sorry for that. I will work harder, I promise.
Alright, let me hit the ones I have to hit here. Animefreak03, I'm glad that you feel my work doesn't disappoint you at all. That's one thing I hate, for someone to feel disappointed. Nothing makes me feel like more of a failure with my writing. I'm fortunate in that it's pretty rare people dislike my work. Although I think the people that don't like my stories just don't bother saying so and ignore me. Then again, I do the same thing usually, so I can't complain about it!
I hope you don't know how the story will end, that could really damage your enjoyment of it. I mean, the journey there is going to be a blast, but I want to keep my ending as pure as possible so that when we get there, no one will feel as though they saw it coming. I'm glad that you enjoy that Rhonda/Arnold/Nadine action. And of course, I think everyone wants to know what Arnold was talking. Perhaps in time, you'll learn. It sounds like I ended up making you rather happy, which always makes me feel good. A happy reader is a returning reader, after all!
One last thing, I couldn't get this chapter finished in time for a pre-read, so you're just going to have to make do. I'm sure there's some mistakes in it, and I'm sorry if it's a little messier than the usual quality I deliver. I'll try to do better in the future.
Again, I'm sorry about having to make everyone wait an extra week. I'll try to make it up to you, somehow. Not that I have any idea how, just that I'll try. But in the meantime, you know what to do. Send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:
Lord Malachite
02/27/06
3:34AM, EST
E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com
AIM: Asukaphile26
