Disclaimer: um, HA! is not mine so please don't bother suing me...it would be a waste.
*******Please read******
Thanks for the reviews. This is sort of long. It was supposed to be in the first chapter, but it didn't quite fit in with the mood.
I'm not sure when I can post the next chapter...I haven't even started working on it. The marking period is almost over and midterms are coming up so I'm not sure when I can get time to sit down and work on it. But maybe you're reviews will inspire me...
Eh, this is just kind of a warning...this is a sad chapter...just in case you wanted to know
Our 8th Grade Christmas cont'd
Chapter 2
~Arnold~
I kicked a stone that was on the street and I watched it casually roll away until it disappeared down a storm drain. I wondered where the rock had gone, perhaps down to where the Sewer King was.
I shivered and I had every reason to. It was way below freezing and snow was beginning to fall. A white Christmas. For some reason it did not seem as great. Maybe I was just letting Helga get to me.
I sighed. It wasn't fair. Why did Helga get to have someone special to share the magic of Christmas with and I didn't? My love life...it was a sad thing. I had never seemed to have much luck with girls. The ones I fell for were either complete air-heads or had no romantic interests whatsoever in me. Well there was that girl...but I never really got to know her, although it seemed like I had known her or at least she knew me...but that was years ago and I guess I would probably never find out who she was.
But then she came back to mind. That girl. I shuddered at her memory. I could still hear her voice, the sound echoing in my ears. She was the kind of person you want to forget but you never can. There was some lasting thing about her that forever lingered in my thoughts. She made no sense at all...nothing about her did...maybe that was what I had admired in her. Her unpredictability. I pushed the thoughts in the back of mind as I rounded the corner. There is no use chasing after someone who does not even exist.
I had reached Vine Street and I could see the red boardinghouse from the corner. It like many other houses had Christmas lights lit up. It was a beautiful sight. The brightly colored lights, so decorative and festive were a constant reminder of the greatness of the Yuletide season.
I passed by one house. They had definitely gone overboard with the Christmas decorations this year. Red, green, white, yellow, blue, Santa statue, reindeer, and so on. I seriously doubted there was a square inch of that building that did not hold at least one dazzling light.
I had arrived at the boardinghouse and my arms were grateful since I had been lugging back groceries. I put them down as I reached out to open the door, but before I did I took one last look at the streets. The lights were pretty, but at the same time for some reason they seemed different at that moment. How should I describe it...tacky? No, although some were that's not it. Childish. Yes, that's the one. For one reason or another I stood on the stoop looking over the neighborhood and wondered why everyone made such a big fuss over the holiday. I knew there were the religious reasons, but I was well aware that the majority of those who celebrated hardly even when to church. Perhaps everyone just made a huge deal over nothing at all...just an excuse for taking off work or getting school off...
What a funny thing to think at my age. I felt like I was wise beyond my years as I stood there pondering about how almost silly the whole idea of Christmas was. I smiled to myself. If I felt wise beyond my years at 13 then I wondered what how wise I would feel at 31. Or 50. Or 70. Or-
"Kimba, I know you've been out scavenging for any signs of nourishment and you want to savor your glory moment of completing you mission, but come inside the Colonel has been waiting for news of your arrival." I turned to see my grandma standing at the doorway.
"Okay, Grandma," I said with a sigh and I entered the building. The warm air of the boardinghouse never felt cozier and more wonderful than after a walk through the snow. I saw the festivities going on inside. Maybe making such a big deal out of Christmas was not a bad idea after all...
~Afternoon of the Next Day~
~Helga~
"Helga, there's a call for you." I had been fiddling with my new CD player and I got up expecting to hear Andrew's familiar, deep voice.
"Hello?" It wasn't him instead it was a voice I had not heard in a while.
"Helga, its Phoebe."
There was something I had always admired in Phoebe. I think it was the way that I did not have to explain things to her...she just understood. Maybe that was what I missed the most about her. She never needed an explanation, she never asked why. She would do what I wanted...no questions asked. I don't tell people things. If they really wanted to know, I've decided that they should figure it out themselves. Phoebe was smart enough to do that and sometimes I wondered if she knew me even better than I knew myself...
But people grow older only to discover it is nearly impossible to stay friends forever. It's not like we had become enemies...no, not at all. I knew she would never become my enemy...she knew me too well. We just drifted apart as most best friends do at sometime or another. Once we had graduated from elementary school and moved on to Junior High she and Gerald had become very close. They had always been good friends since before I could remember, but years passed and it was quite obvious that they were much more than friends.
I didn't mind her hanging out with Gerald as much as people think I did. I didn't let it get me because of all she had done for me before. I perceived it was time to let go. I would watch her lingering on Gerald's every word. She looked almost pathetic and I guess I could see how things used to be. It used to be me standing there. I had been the leader and Phoebe the follower, more than willing to obey my commands...my orders. In that way she had always been a sad person who never stood up for herself. Her independence did grow I have to admit and her shyness had diminished under Gerald's influence. Someone once told me that no one can ever stay a follower their entire life and I knew she was no exception.
"Helga, are you still there?" I snapped out of my thoughts. Poor Phoebe, I had not said anything for almost an entire minute.
"Yeah, I'm still there Pheebs."
"Good. I just called to wish you a Merry Christmas. I did not get a chance to tell you that at school."
"Oh." I immediately realized something was going on. I could tell...it was the sound of her voice that gave it away plus her lame excuse for calling me. Her voice, although it seemed steady, had a certain uneasiness to it and a strange softness that I had not heard in an awfully long time.
"Phoebe?" I was beginning to tremble and I was not sure why. I knew something bad was coming. I could feel it in the atmosphere. "What's wrong?"
I heard a sigh. She knew she could not get anything by me. She had to tell me.
"Helga...I think there is something you need to know." Her voice was mournful and it scared me.
"What, Phoebe? What happened?" I heard another sigh.
"It happened a long time ago, but now we finally know...why and how...we finally know..."
It seemed like a dream as I sat there on my bed listening to the girl who used to be my best friend. When she was finished I did not know what to say or what even I was supposed to say. I was still trying to absorb everything she had told me. It came as such a shock. I felt my eyes begin to water and I jumped up to face my mirror just in time to see a salty tear trickle down my cheek. I could not remember the last time I had cried...
It's funny the places you go to when you need to get away. I mumbled something about going out to my family before slipping on my snow boots and winter coat. I stepped outside. It had stopped snowing a while ago, but a white blanket at least six inches thick still laid on the frozen ground.
Sometimes when you need to think you go to a place and let old memories flow through your mind. You don't want to forget, but at the same time you don't want to remember...it hurts too bad.
I was not thinking about where I was going, but I got there all the same like I knew I would. The docks. They were peaceful yet for one reason or another they haunted me with memories.
I arrived to see him there. I wasn't surprised. I had a feeling he would be there. I thought about turning around and going somewhere else. Perhaps he needed to be alone, but at the same time I knew he needed someone more than ever. I took a deep breath and prepared to announce my presence.
He stirred. Damn, he had good ears. He looked over his shoulder to see me and I saw him slightly frown at the sight of me.
"Hi, Arnold." I forced myself to say it as sweetly as I could bring myself to do.
"What do you want, Helga?" His voice was sharp and bitter. He did not want me around, but I could not leave...my legs refused to move.
"Arnold," I began trying to decide what I should say to him. I had never seen a more pained look in his emerald green eyes. Never. When I had yelled at him the other day, or even when Lila had dumped him did not even come close. "I heard about what happened and I'm sorry." I fiddled nervously with my gloves: taking them off then putting them back on.
He studied me for a second before turning to look out at the water. "Thanks." He did not sound like he meant it. I took a step towards him. I should have just left. I didn't belong here, did I? Yes, you know you do.
No one said anything. I gradually stepped nearer to him and I soon found myself sitting beside him. After an eternity he broke the silence.
"It doesn't come as much of a surprise to me. Inside I've known what had happened to them. I just...all those years I refused to admit it...I clung to the hope that they were alive...I knew they were dead...I've known it all along."
I watched him and saw how fragile he was and how much he had been hurt his entire life...what he had to live with. I wondered if he had cried when he had heard the news. For a split second I thought he was going to, but he swallowed the urge back. I had never seen him cry...he was such a strong boy.
It was at that moment that I noticed he was holding something in his hand. It was a photograph.
"Is that them?" I motioned towards the picture. He simply nodded and handed me the old photograph. An edge had been slightly torn in the corner. The man was handsome with a charming smile and wavy yellow hair. The woman was beautiful even with her melon-shaped head. She had brown hair and a certain softness to her face. I glanced at Arnold who was still gazing at the photograph. He had her kind eyes. I gave the picture back to him. He looked at it a little longer before slipping it into his coat pocket.
"Did you know I would be here?" he asked still focusing on the ships out at sea. I shrugged. I didn't want him to know the truth.
"I don't know...this is where I like to go when I need to think. I don't know why though." He turned away from the water to look at me.
"Helga?"
"Yes?"
"Where do you think they are right now?" His voice sounded different, but I was not sure in what way. He seemed curious...he really wanted to know my opinion. I smiled at him and spoke gently.
"I bet they're in heaven and at this very moment they're looking down on us." I paused to look at the water since for some reason I could not bear to look into his eyes any longer. "They don't want you to be sad," I continued. "They know that it is time for you to move on, Arnold. Remember them, but don't let memories and regrets haunt you forever...that's what they would have wanted you to do."
It sounded corny, but it was the most comforting thing I could think of to say. Did I believe there was such a place as heaven? Or that there was an all mighty God? I had never given it much thought. But for now it was nice to think that an afterlife existed...it made death seem more inviting and hopeful...that there was a chance someday he could see his long lost parents.
A cold blast of icy wind suddenly blew upon my neck and I shivered. I had forgotten my scarf again. Arnold noticed.
"Here, Helga." He took off the red scarf that he had been wearing and slipped it around my neck.
"Thanks," I replied. My voice was barely above a whisper. My instincts were to yell at him, but I restrained myself. Not when he was in this state.
"We probably should get back. It's getting late." I leaped at his words. He had said WE not I! He stood up and offered his hand to help me up. I let him, but I slightly scowled. He did not seem to mind too much.
"Could I walk you home?" Yes, yes, yes!! He wants to walk you home. Ugh. No matter how much I tried to stop it there was that little voice inside of me constantly reminding me of my love for Arnold. But did I still love him? I wasn't quite sure. If I did love him, it was not the way I had loved him before. The obsession had ended. Obsessions like most things grow old fast...
"Uh, Helga? Are you alright?"
"Uh, yeah, sure, whatever floats your boat." I shuddered at the sarcasm of my voice. He smiled in that patient way of his and led me away from the docks and the memories that lingered in the icy air of December.
We were silent as we trudged home in the snow, but silence speaks louder than words. I think we each had our own thoughts and did not want to disturb each other. By the time we had reached my house the sky was dark with an exception of the last shimmering rays of the sun off to the west.
"Thanks, Helga."
"For what?" I asked.
"For talking to me. I needed that." Like some impulsion from inside of him he leaned forward and hugged me. The sudden embrace had caught me off guard.
"Er...it was nothing, Footballhead," I nervously replied.
"It made me feel a lot better." I raised my chin and looked at him.
"Don't expect anything to change between us because it won't and I don't know if things ever will." Damn, my tongue. "But if you do need someone to talk to...I'm here. I can't say I know how you feel, but I understand...comprende, geekbait?"
I saw it in his eyes. Understanding. He smiled. "I know." I turned to go inside, but as I reached the top step of the stoop I remembered. I took off the scarf and tossed it to him.
"Thanks," I mumbled as he caught it. He just grinned as he proceeded in wrapping it around his own neck.
"It was nothing." I turned away from him and entered my house. As soon as the door was shut behind me I leaned my body back against it and slid down to the floor, drawing my knees up to my chin. I wondered when life would ever start getting simpler...
~Arnold~
Long ago I gave up trying to understand her. One minute she would hate me and the next she acted so caring towards me I'd think we were actually friends and maybe we were...
I remembered what happened earlier today as I trudged back towards the boardinghouse in the snow. It had not been the Christmas gift I had wanted to receive.
~earlier- about midday~
"Thanks, Gerald, for coming with me to tryout my new hockey stick."
"No, problem man. What are friends for? Besides it gave me a chance to try my new, wicked awesome ice skates."
We had reached the boardinghouse. I noticed that a strange car was parked in front. I had never seen it before. I shrugged. Perhaps it belonged to a boarder's relative who had stopped by for a visit on Christmas day. Without giving it a second thought I turned towards Gerald.
"Would you like to come in? I bet Grandma could make you some hot chocolate." I knew that was too tempting an offer for Gerald. His toes like mine were probably nearly frozen.
"Sure, Arnold. Man, could I go for some hot cocoa right now!" We entered the boardinghouse. It was surprisingly very quiet for Christmas day. We walked into the kitchen and my eyes widened at what I saw.
My grandparents sat at the table along with a man I did not recognize, although there was a strange familiarity to him. All three adults looked up when we had entered. I could see the man in better detail now. He seemed to be foreign with a black mustache. I guessed he had Latin American ancestry.
I tore my eyes away from him and focused on my grandparents. I had never seen a more serious look on either of their faces. I noticed each of them were holding an object. Both were old, ripped, torn, and charred black.
"Grandma...grandpa?" I was beginning to shake. Gerald stood beside me with the most bewildered expression on his face. I watched the adults exchange a glance.
"Arnold," began grandpa not bothering to use his usual name for me, "this man here is Edwardo. He was a friend of your parents." I looked at the man still clinging to the faint hope I had always possessed.
The man cleared his throat.
"You have to know something. Your parents as you've probably already been told were sent to come to our village in the mountains to save my people. You see...they never made it." There was a long pause. I did not move a muscle, not even to blink. "There was a storm...the plane was too old...it could not take the storm...we sent out search parties to find them...nothing was found...not a trace of what had happened...a few weeks ago...a native in the thickest part of the jungle found a propeller. He contacted us. We searched the area and we found it...after ten years...it had been buried in the depth of the jungle near no civilization...the plane and their bodies...I'm sorry." I watched the man as a few tears slipped down his cheek.
When you first hear bad news you do not do anything at all. You just stand there like your numb, completely deaf to the world. You can't think, speak, or move. You do not know what to do. Then little by little you absorb the information and then it really begins to hurt. There's an ache in your stomach similar to right after you had been sick and had just thrown up. You feel this painful emptiness...something is missing, but unlike a simple tummy ache, you know the hole can never be filled up again.
I wondered what I looked like standing there after hearing that my parents were dead. No one knew what to say. Silence. It passed for a few minutes more. All the while my stomach was killing me. It was sharp and it felt like someone was stabbing the inside of me with a knife. Gerald finally brook the silence.
"Arnold, I'm sorry." Anger flashed through my mind. He should be sorry! Nothing bad ever happened to him. He had the perfect, typical family. He did not know the meaning of sorrow or regret like I did. I paused and calmed myself down. It's not his fault...you can't blame him.
Regret. It flowed through my mind. I imagined when anything tragic happened people go through their 'if only I had...', their 'what if...', and their 'it could have been prevented' thoughts. They went through me now.
Gerald soon left. I guess he found the awkwardness way too overbearing and maybe he knew I needed time alone. The man, Edwardo, left as well. Tipping his hat and apologizing for bringing such sorrowful news on what was supposed to be a happy and glorious day he walked out the door. Something inside of me told me that I would never see him again.
~present~
I sighed. Only the day before I had been complaining about my love life. It's funny how one thing can seem so important one day and the next hardly matter at all.
But Helga had made me feel so much better. She had always been good at that...sometimes, or at least when she wants tries.
I was so lost in thought I turned the corner of Vine Street too sharply. (What can I say? It was a bad habit of mine). SMACK!! I was sent to the ground and to my great surprise I stood up quickly and reached my hand out to help none other than...
"Andrew?!"
C'est la fin!
Okay...I didn't want to have to kill off his parents, but I had to...it's important to the story. (I knew in reality Craig would never do that to us....right?!)
Was it too sad? Too long?
Is it going too slowly (or perhaps even too fast)?
Is it too descriptive with not enough action? (I have a bad habit of doing that especially during the first few chapters).
Please review. I need to know. It'll help me improve.
*******Please read******
Thanks for the reviews. This is sort of long. It was supposed to be in the first chapter, but it didn't quite fit in with the mood.
I'm not sure when I can post the next chapter...I haven't even started working on it. The marking period is almost over and midterms are coming up so I'm not sure when I can get time to sit down and work on it. But maybe you're reviews will inspire me...
Eh, this is just kind of a warning...this is a sad chapter...just in case you wanted to know
Our 8th Grade Christmas cont'd
Chapter 2
~Arnold~
I kicked a stone that was on the street and I watched it casually roll away until it disappeared down a storm drain. I wondered where the rock had gone, perhaps down to where the Sewer King was.
I shivered and I had every reason to. It was way below freezing and snow was beginning to fall. A white Christmas. For some reason it did not seem as great. Maybe I was just letting Helga get to me.
I sighed. It wasn't fair. Why did Helga get to have someone special to share the magic of Christmas with and I didn't? My love life...it was a sad thing. I had never seemed to have much luck with girls. The ones I fell for were either complete air-heads or had no romantic interests whatsoever in me. Well there was that girl...but I never really got to know her, although it seemed like I had known her or at least she knew me...but that was years ago and I guess I would probably never find out who she was.
But then she came back to mind. That girl. I shuddered at her memory. I could still hear her voice, the sound echoing in my ears. She was the kind of person you want to forget but you never can. There was some lasting thing about her that forever lingered in my thoughts. She made no sense at all...nothing about her did...maybe that was what I had admired in her. Her unpredictability. I pushed the thoughts in the back of mind as I rounded the corner. There is no use chasing after someone who does not even exist.
I had reached Vine Street and I could see the red boardinghouse from the corner. It like many other houses had Christmas lights lit up. It was a beautiful sight. The brightly colored lights, so decorative and festive were a constant reminder of the greatness of the Yuletide season.
I passed by one house. They had definitely gone overboard with the Christmas decorations this year. Red, green, white, yellow, blue, Santa statue, reindeer, and so on. I seriously doubted there was a square inch of that building that did not hold at least one dazzling light.
I had arrived at the boardinghouse and my arms were grateful since I had been lugging back groceries. I put them down as I reached out to open the door, but before I did I took one last look at the streets. The lights were pretty, but at the same time for some reason they seemed different at that moment. How should I describe it...tacky? No, although some were that's not it. Childish. Yes, that's the one. For one reason or another I stood on the stoop looking over the neighborhood and wondered why everyone made such a big fuss over the holiday. I knew there were the religious reasons, but I was well aware that the majority of those who celebrated hardly even when to church. Perhaps everyone just made a huge deal over nothing at all...just an excuse for taking off work or getting school off...
What a funny thing to think at my age. I felt like I was wise beyond my years as I stood there pondering about how almost silly the whole idea of Christmas was. I smiled to myself. If I felt wise beyond my years at 13 then I wondered what how wise I would feel at 31. Or 50. Or 70. Or-
"Kimba, I know you've been out scavenging for any signs of nourishment and you want to savor your glory moment of completing you mission, but come inside the Colonel has been waiting for news of your arrival." I turned to see my grandma standing at the doorway.
"Okay, Grandma," I said with a sigh and I entered the building. The warm air of the boardinghouse never felt cozier and more wonderful than after a walk through the snow. I saw the festivities going on inside. Maybe making such a big deal out of Christmas was not a bad idea after all...
~Afternoon of the Next Day~
~Helga~
"Helga, there's a call for you." I had been fiddling with my new CD player and I got up expecting to hear Andrew's familiar, deep voice.
"Hello?" It wasn't him instead it was a voice I had not heard in a while.
"Helga, its Phoebe."
There was something I had always admired in Phoebe. I think it was the way that I did not have to explain things to her...she just understood. Maybe that was what I missed the most about her. She never needed an explanation, she never asked why. She would do what I wanted...no questions asked. I don't tell people things. If they really wanted to know, I've decided that they should figure it out themselves. Phoebe was smart enough to do that and sometimes I wondered if she knew me even better than I knew myself...
But people grow older only to discover it is nearly impossible to stay friends forever. It's not like we had become enemies...no, not at all. I knew she would never become my enemy...she knew me too well. We just drifted apart as most best friends do at sometime or another. Once we had graduated from elementary school and moved on to Junior High she and Gerald had become very close. They had always been good friends since before I could remember, but years passed and it was quite obvious that they were much more than friends.
I didn't mind her hanging out with Gerald as much as people think I did. I didn't let it get me because of all she had done for me before. I perceived it was time to let go. I would watch her lingering on Gerald's every word. She looked almost pathetic and I guess I could see how things used to be. It used to be me standing there. I had been the leader and Phoebe the follower, more than willing to obey my commands...my orders. In that way she had always been a sad person who never stood up for herself. Her independence did grow I have to admit and her shyness had diminished under Gerald's influence. Someone once told me that no one can ever stay a follower their entire life and I knew she was no exception.
"Helga, are you still there?" I snapped out of my thoughts. Poor Phoebe, I had not said anything for almost an entire minute.
"Yeah, I'm still there Pheebs."
"Good. I just called to wish you a Merry Christmas. I did not get a chance to tell you that at school."
"Oh." I immediately realized something was going on. I could tell...it was the sound of her voice that gave it away plus her lame excuse for calling me. Her voice, although it seemed steady, had a certain uneasiness to it and a strange softness that I had not heard in an awfully long time.
"Phoebe?" I was beginning to tremble and I was not sure why. I knew something bad was coming. I could feel it in the atmosphere. "What's wrong?"
I heard a sigh. She knew she could not get anything by me. She had to tell me.
"Helga...I think there is something you need to know." Her voice was mournful and it scared me.
"What, Phoebe? What happened?" I heard another sigh.
"It happened a long time ago, but now we finally know...why and how...we finally know..."
It seemed like a dream as I sat there on my bed listening to the girl who used to be my best friend. When she was finished I did not know what to say or what even I was supposed to say. I was still trying to absorb everything she had told me. It came as such a shock. I felt my eyes begin to water and I jumped up to face my mirror just in time to see a salty tear trickle down my cheek. I could not remember the last time I had cried...
It's funny the places you go to when you need to get away. I mumbled something about going out to my family before slipping on my snow boots and winter coat. I stepped outside. It had stopped snowing a while ago, but a white blanket at least six inches thick still laid on the frozen ground.
Sometimes when you need to think you go to a place and let old memories flow through your mind. You don't want to forget, but at the same time you don't want to remember...it hurts too bad.
I was not thinking about where I was going, but I got there all the same like I knew I would. The docks. They were peaceful yet for one reason or another they haunted me with memories.
I arrived to see him there. I wasn't surprised. I had a feeling he would be there. I thought about turning around and going somewhere else. Perhaps he needed to be alone, but at the same time I knew he needed someone more than ever. I took a deep breath and prepared to announce my presence.
He stirred. Damn, he had good ears. He looked over his shoulder to see me and I saw him slightly frown at the sight of me.
"Hi, Arnold." I forced myself to say it as sweetly as I could bring myself to do.
"What do you want, Helga?" His voice was sharp and bitter. He did not want me around, but I could not leave...my legs refused to move.
"Arnold," I began trying to decide what I should say to him. I had never seen a more pained look in his emerald green eyes. Never. When I had yelled at him the other day, or even when Lila had dumped him did not even come close. "I heard about what happened and I'm sorry." I fiddled nervously with my gloves: taking them off then putting them back on.
He studied me for a second before turning to look out at the water. "Thanks." He did not sound like he meant it. I took a step towards him. I should have just left. I didn't belong here, did I? Yes, you know you do.
No one said anything. I gradually stepped nearer to him and I soon found myself sitting beside him. After an eternity he broke the silence.
"It doesn't come as much of a surprise to me. Inside I've known what had happened to them. I just...all those years I refused to admit it...I clung to the hope that they were alive...I knew they were dead...I've known it all along."
I watched him and saw how fragile he was and how much he had been hurt his entire life...what he had to live with. I wondered if he had cried when he had heard the news. For a split second I thought he was going to, but he swallowed the urge back. I had never seen him cry...he was such a strong boy.
It was at that moment that I noticed he was holding something in his hand. It was a photograph.
"Is that them?" I motioned towards the picture. He simply nodded and handed me the old photograph. An edge had been slightly torn in the corner. The man was handsome with a charming smile and wavy yellow hair. The woman was beautiful even with her melon-shaped head. She had brown hair and a certain softness to her face. I glanced at Arnold who was still gazing at the photograph. He had her kind eyes. I gave the picture back to him. He looked at it a little longer before slipping it into his coat pocket.
"Did you know I would be here?" he asked still focusing on the ships out at sea. I shrugged. I didn't want him to know the truth.
"I don't know...this is where I like to go when I need to think. I don't know why though." He turned away from the water to look at me.
"Helga?"
"Yes?"
"Where do you think they are right now?" His voice sounded different, but I was not sure in what way. He seemed curious...he really wanted to know my opinion. I smiled at him and spoke gently.
"I bet they're in heaven and at this very moment they're looking down on us." I paused to look at the water since for some reason I could not bear to look into his eyes any longer. "They don't want you to be sad," I continued. "They know that it is time for you to move on, Arnold. Remember them, but don't let memories and regrets haunt you forever...that's what they would have wanted you to do."
It sounded corny, but it was the most comforting thing I could think of to say. Did I believe there was such a place as heaven? Or that there was an all mighty God? I had never given it much thought. But for now it was nice to think that an afterlife existed...it made death seem more inviting and hopeful...that there was a chance someday he could see his long lost parents.
A cold blast of icy wind suddenly blew upon my neck and I shivered. I had forgotten my scarf again. Arnold noticed.
"Here, Helga." He took off the red scarf that he had been wearing and slipped it around my neck.
"Thanks," I replied. My voice was barely above a whisper. My instincts were to yell at him, but I restrained myself. Not when he was in this state.
"We probably should get back. It's getting late." I leaped at his words. He had said WE not I! He stood up and offered his hand to help me up. I let him, but I slightly scowled. He did not seem to mind too much.
"Could I walk you home?" Yes, yes, yes!! He wants to walk you home. Ugh. No matter how much I tried to stop it there was that little voice inside of me constantly reminding me of my love for Arnold. But did I still love him? I wasn't quite sure. If I did love him, it was not the way I had loved him before. The obsession had ended. Obsessions like most things grow old fast...
"Uh, Helga? Are you alright?"
"Uh, yeah, sure, whatever floats your boat." I shuddered at the sarcasm of my voice. He smiled in that patient way of his and led me away from the docks and the memories that lingered in the icy air of December.
We were silent as we trudged home in the snow, but silence speaks louder than words. I think we each had our own thoughts and did not want to disturb each other. By the time we had reached my house the sky was dark with an exception of the last shimmering rays of the sun off to the west.
"Thanks, Helga."
"For what?" I asked.
"For talking to me. I needed that." Like some impulsion from inside of him he leaned forward and hugged me. The sudden embrace had caught me off guard.
"Er...it was nothing, Footballhead," I nervously replied.
"It made me feel a lot better." I raised my chin and looked at him.
"Don't expect anything to change between us because it won't and I don't know if things ever will." Damn, my tongue. "But if you do need someone to talk to...I'm here. I can't say I know how you feel, but I understand...comprende, geekbait?"
I saw it in his eyes. Understanding. He smiled. "I know." I turned to go inside, but as I reached the top step of the stoop I remembered. I took off the scarf and tossed it to him.
"Thanks," I mumbled as he caught it. He just grinned as he proceeded in wrapping it around his own neck.
"It was nothing." I turned away from him and entered my house. As soon as the door was shut behind me I leaned my body back against it and slid down to the floor, drawing my knees up to my chin. I wondered when life would ever start getting simpler...
~Arnold~
Long ago I gave up trying to understand her. One minute she would hate me and the next she acted so caring towards me I'd think we were actually friends and maybe we were...
I remembered what happened earlier today as I trudged back towards the boardinghouse in the snow. It had not been the Christmas gift I had wanted to receive.
~earlier- about midday~
"Thanks, Gerald, for coming with me to tryout my new hockey stick."
"No, problem man. What are friends for? Besides it gave me a chance to try my new, wicked awesome ice skates."
We had reached the boardinghouse. I noticed that a strange car was parked in front. I had never seen it before. I shrugged. Perhaps it belonged to a boarder's relative who had stopped by for a visit on Christmas day. Without giving it a second thought I turned towards Gerald.
"Would you like to come in? I bet Grandma could make you some hot chocolate." I knew that was too tempting an offer for Gerald. His toes like mine were probably nearly frozen.
"Sure, Arnold. Man, could I go for some hot cocoa right now!" We entered the boardinghouse. It was surprisingly very quiet for Christmas day. We walked into the kitchen and my eyes widened at what I saw.
My grandparents sat at the table along with a man I did not recognize, although there was a strange familiarity to him. All three adults looked up when we had entered. I could see the man in better detail now. He seemed to be foreign with a black mustache. I guessed he had Latin American ancestry.
I tore my eyes away from him and focused on my grandparents. I had never seen a more serious look on either of their faces. I noticed each of them were holding an object. Both were old, ripped, torn, and charred black.
"Grandma...grandpa?" I was beginning to shake. Gerald stood beside me with the most bewildered expression on his face. I watched the adults exchange a glance.
"Arnold," began grandpa not bothering to use his usual name for me, "this man here is Edwardo. He was a friend of your parents." I looked at the man still clinging to the faint hope I had always possessed.
The man cleared his throat.
"You have to know something. Your parents as you've probably already been told were sent to come to our village in the mountains to save my people. You see...they never made it." There was a long pause. I did not move a muscle, not even to blink. "There was a storm...the plane was too old...it could not take the storm...we sent out search parties to find them...nothing was found...not a trace of what had happened...a few weeks ago...a native in the thickest part of the jungle found a propeller. He contacted us. We searched the area and we found it...after ten years...it had been buried in the depth of the jungle near no civilization...the plane and their bodies...I'm sorry." I watched the man as a few tears slipped down his cheek.
When you first hear bad news you do not do anything at all. You just stand there like your numb, completely deaf to the world. You can't think, speak, or move. You do not know what to do. Then little by little you absorb the information and then it really begins to hurt. There's an ache in your stomach similar to right after you had been sick and had just thrown up. You feel this painful emptiness...something is missing, but unlike a simple tummy ache, you know the hole can never be filled up again.
I wondered what I looked like standing there after hearing that my parents were dead. No one knew what to say. Silence. It passed for a few minutes more. All the while my stomach was killing me. It was sharp and it felt like someone was stabbing the inside of me with a knife. Gerald finally brook the silence.
"Arnold, I'm sorry." Anger flashed through my mind. He should be sorry! Nothing bad ever happened to him. He had the perfect, typical family. He did not know the meaning of sorrow or regret like I did. I paused and calmed myself down. It's not his fault...you can't blame him.
Regret. It flowed through my mind. I imagined when anything tragic happened people go through their 'if only I had...', their 'what if...', and their 'it could have been prevented' thoughts. They went through me now.
Gerald soon left. I guess he found the awkwardness way too overbearing and maybe he knew I needed time alone. The man, Edwardo, left as well. Tipping his hat and apologizing for bringing such sorrowful news on what was supposed to be a happy and glorious day he walked out the door. Something inside of me told me that I would never see him again.
~present~
I sighed. Only the day before I had been complaining about my love life. It's funny how one thing can seem so important one day and the next hardly matter at all.
But Helga had made me feel so much better. She had always been good at that...sometimes, or at least when she wants tries.
I was so lost in thought I turned the corner of Vine Street too sharply. (What can I say? It was a bad habit of mine). SMACK!! I was sent to the ground and to my great surprise I stood up quickly and reached my hand out to help none other than...
"Andrew?!"
C'est la fin!
Okay...I didn't want to have to kill off his parents, but I had to...it's important to the story. (I knew in reality Craig would never do that to us....right?!)
Was it too sad? Too long?
Is it going too slowly (or perhaps even too fast)?
Is it too descriptive with not enough action? (I have a bad habit of doing that especially during the first few chapters).
Please review. I need to know. It'll help me improve.