"And this is the…playground," Helga said unnecessarily, gesturing toward the large grass area. "Not very elaborate, but" - here, she shrugged - "it seems to be enough for our meager-minded population." At this, she spat empathetically on the concrete. "Come on," she continued, her voice low. "I'll show you the cafeteria." Helga was anxious to leave - being seen showing a new kid around was horrible for her self-image. She couldn't be expected to direct every pitiful soul, could she? Perhaps she could just leave him for the fifth graders. They'd certainly be forever grateful to her for a new student to torment.
"Helga?" Arnold asked, interrupting her thoughts. "Thanks. For helping me, I mean," he continued hastily. "You've really been a lot of help."
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, directing him toward the nearest building. "Don't mention it, Football Head." The name felt comfortable to her, fitting, and her mouth curved into a small grin. Perhaps this was too good an opportunity to leave to the fifth graders. "But don't expect us to become friends or anything," she sneered.
"Oh, never." Was that sarcasm she detected? Helga let it pass. "How long have you lived here?" he went on curiously.
"Forever. Invariably forever." She gave him an odd look. "Why?"
"Oh, nothing." Arnold turned away, apparently deep in thought. "I've always wondered what it be like to stay somewhere forever," he said finally.
"You can take my life," she mumbled.
"What?"
She paused. "Well, you shouldn't take that traveling stuff for granted, you know?" Helga sighed involuntarily. "I'd love to leave here. To leave P.S. 118…Bob and Miriam…"
"You don't like it?" he coaxed.
"Of course I don't like it!" she snapped. "Would you like being stuck in the middle of some city, where everybody knows you and is constantly calling at you, pestering you, making you feel so trapped?" Helga demanded.
"Yes," Arnold whispered meekly. "I think that's exactly what I'd like."
"Well, be careful what you wish for, Football Head." She gave him a penetrating glare. "Sedentary life isn't all it seems."
"And neither is moving around all the time," he countered.
"Well, so what?" Helga continued awkwardly. "I want your life, you want mine. Life's not fair and that's just the way it is. Deal with it."
Arnold winced. "You're a bit pessimistic for a fourth grader, aren't you?"
"It's not being pessimistic," she explained dryly, "it's being realistic. Things don't happen as they should, Football Head, and you've got to learn to accept it." She paused, turning back away. "So do you want to see the cafeteria or not?"
"I think I've seen all I need to." He gave her a quick and curious smile, then wandered into the crowd.
"Helga?" Arnold asked, interrupting her thoughts. "Thanks. For helping me, I mean," he continued hastily. "You've really been a lot of help."
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, directing him toward the nearest building. "Don't mention it, Football Head." The name felt comfortable to her, fitting, and her mouth curved into a small grin. Perhaps this was too good an opportunity to leave to the fifth graders. "But don't expect us to become friends or anything," she sneered.
"Oh, never." Was that sarcasm she detected? Helga let it pass. "How long have you lived here?" he went on curiously.
"Forever. Invariably forever." She gave him an odd look. "Why?"
"Oh, nothing." Arnold turned away, apparently deep in thought. "I've always wondered what it be like to stay somewhere forever," he said finally.
"You can take my life," she mumbled.
"What?"
She paused. "Well, you shouldn't take that traveling stuff for granted, you know?" Helga sighed involuntarily. "I'd love to leave here. To leave P.S. 118…Bob and Miriam…"
"You don't like it?" he coaxed.
"Of course I don't like it!" she snapped. "Would you like being stuck in the middle of some city, where everybody knows you and is constantly calling at you, pestering you, making you feel so trapped?" Helga demanded.
"Yes," Arnold whispered meekly. "I think that's exactly what I'd like."
"Well, be careful what you wish for, Football Head." She gave him a penetrating glare. "Sedentary life isn't all it seems."
"And neither is moving around all the time," he countered.
"Well, so what?" Helga continued awkwardly. "I want your life, you want mine. Life's not fair and that's just the way it is. Deal with it."
Arnold winced. "You're a bit pessimistic for a fourth grader, aren't you?"
"It's not being pessimistic," she explained dryly, "it's being realistic. Things don't happen as they should, Football Head, and you've got to learn to accept it." She paused, turning back away. "So do you want to see the cafeteria or not?"
"I think I've seen all I need to." He gave her a quick and curious smile, then wandered into the crowd.