Disclaimer: I don't own Hey, Arnold! :P And I think we can all agree on the fact that I never, ever, will. (Gah.)
Song of the Angels
Part I
"The Haunting Melody of Nostalgia"
The fresh, crisp air of the newly arrived fall season chilled the air. It was evening, and the setting sun was covered by the thick, gloomy clouds casting an empty glow in the old neighborhood. A breeze swirled between a handful of October-colored leaves, causing them to dance in circles along the empty street. They flew past a solitary figure of a man in a thick coat walking along the sidewalk. After pulling his hood over his head, he shoved his hands in his pockets to protect them from the bitter cold lingering in the sharp air. As he walked in silence, the glimpse of an old building stopped him in his tracks. His head turned to look at the old, run-down school formerly known as PS118. The facility had long been shut down and deserted after the tragic death of Howard Wartz. The last of its inhabitants had grown and moved on to begin careers and start families.
The man's thoughtful green eyes peered out from underneath his hood as he saw the empty images of children laughing and running around the lifeless schoolyard. Their happy giggling echoed in his mind and faded as he brought his attention back to the real world. He blinked a few times and saw what really lay before him: a silent, dead building. The wind crept into his hood and nipped at the man's ears, reminding him to move on. So he turned and continued on his way.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The bells on the door clanged loudly as the door opened, rushing a gust of wind into the empty tavern. A young woman stood at the counter wiping a wet cloth along the countertop. She looked up from behind the bar and saw the young man remove his hood and seat himself on a stool in front of her. The slender, dark haired woman smiled at him.
"Hello, Arnold," she said politely. The man greeted her back with a smile and a nod.
"Hey, Phoebe." He let out a deep breath and unzipped his coat to cope with the sudden warmth in the cozy shop. "Business going slow today?" he asked when he noticed the lack of customers. He pulled the coat from his other arm as he took it off.
Phoebe picked up the washcloth she was wiping with and put it back down in a crumpled heap.
"As usual." She wiped her hands on her apron and turned to lean her elbows back against the countertop. "I don't know what I'm going to do with this place if I don't get some customers soon." She wiped the back of her hand against her forehead before letting out a yawn. The twenty year old Asian woman had weaned herself out of her intellectual dialect, but she was still as polite and reserved as she always had been.
"What time is it?" Phoebe asked. Arnold pushed up the sleeve of his blue sweater to reveal his watch.
"7:30."
Phoebe groaned as she fiddled with the bun in the back of her head. Arnold rested his chin in his hands as he leaned forward.
There was a lingering silence except for the faint humming of the refrigerator in the back room. After a while, Arnold broke the silence.
He sat up straight and said, "Hey, I heard Stinky and Lila are coming back." Phoebe looked at Arnold.
"Oh really?" Her face brightened at the rarely occurring news. Arnold nodded.
"Gee... It's been so long since we've seen either of them," she thought aloud.
"Yeah," Arnold added, "I wonder what they've been up to these days."
"Probably having lots of kids," Phoebe said, laughing. Arnold laughed too.
"Probably."
"Well... how about a vanilla shake?" Phoebe offered. Arnold shifted in his seat and remembered he had to get back home.
"No, thanks. Actually, I just came by to check up on you. I better head home soon anyway; it's getting dark."
"Yeah, I guess I can close up shop. Doesn't seem like there will be any more customers tonight." Phoebe untied her apron and put it under the bar. She straightened her long green dress, pulling it along her thin curvaceous body. Her long, straight hair fell onto her shoulders as she removed the chopsticks from her bun.
Arnold had gotten up and put his coat on. He replaced the hood over his face. His facial features had frown into a firm and mature look, although he still managed to keep his youthful appearance. His hair was shaggy and long enough to hang from his head, yet carefully cared for and still as blonde as ever.
Arnold stood outside by Phoebe and waited as she finished locking the door. She hugged the trench coat around her and together the two walked down the street to head home.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After dropping Phoebe off, Arnold opened the door of the boarding house. The waft of warm air warmed his body from the cold outside. He quietly shut the door behind him and hung his coat on the coat rack. The lights coming from the kitchen and living room were an inviting change from the dark streetlights he'd walked through outside. As he ruffled his fingers in his hair to free it from its messy state from the hood, he walked down the hallway. Arnold could smell a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen.
"Arnold?" a voice called. "Is that you?" He walked in and saw the young Vietnamese woman around his age stirring a pot of soup. Her short black hair hung around her face as she smiled gently at him.
"Welcome home. Soup's almost ready, so you better tell the boarders to come and get it." She went to the oven to retrieve the rest of the meal. Arnold headed upstairs to call the new generation of boarders to dinner.
Phoebe sat at her desk that night busily scribbling away at her manuscript. The small cozy apartment was completely dark except for the faint light emitted from the cheap rummage sale lamp in front of her. She sighed and put her pen down in front of her. Pushing aside a clumsy pile of undefined papers, Phoebe studied the dimly lit inscription on the corner of the desk she'd owned since she was a child. Helga + Phoebe 4-Ever was childishly carved into the wood. Phoebe could still remember when they did that, back at the end of 4th grade. She ran her long, slender fingers along the pure-hearted vandalism in her furniture. They had made a promise. A vow, that the best friends would never leave each other. They'd always be together, no matter what. Sisters to the end. But time went by, and with it life brought its struggles. And eventually, the promise was forgotten-- and abandoned. Helga was gone, and that's all there was to it. Phoebe's knuckles turned white in her clenched fist as the memories were refreshed in her mind. She couldn't be angry at Helga for breaking the promise. Phoebe might have too, under the circumstances. After all, a silly little promise made at nine years old couldn't possible bear that much weight... could it? But Phoebe couldn't help but be a little bitter about it. She looked back at her work, the manuscript no longer looking as important.
"Next week," Phoebe whispered to the empty room. She could see Helga board the taxi. Young, naïve Helga who still had so much to learn about the world; about herself. Without looking back, Helga left her home, and left her childhood, only to vanish off the face of the earth. "Next week is the day."
@~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~
A/N: Okay, well, I don't know the principal's real name (Did anyone ever find out? 'Cuz I don't know.) so he looks like a Howard. And the school was shut down because we all know what happens to that school once he isn't there. Hmm, what else? I think that's all. Well, what do you think? Please review and tell me, I wanna make this a good one. ^_^ (Well, I want to make all my writing good, but you know... well, whatever.) Next chapter, comin' up!
Song of the Angels
Part I
"The Haunting Melody of Nostalgia"
The fresh, crisp air of the newly arrived fall season chilled the air. It was evening, and the setting sun was covered by the thick, gloomy clouds casting an empty glow in the old neighborhood. A breeze swirled between a handful of October-colored leaves, causing them to dance in circles along the empty street. They flew past a solitary figure of a man in a thick coat walking along the sidewalk. After pulling his hood over his head, he shoved his hands in his pockets to protect them from the bitter cold lingering in the sharp air. As he walked in silence, the glimpse of an old building stopped him in his tracks. His head turned to look at the old, run-down school formerly known as PS118. The facility had long been shut down and deserted after the tragic death of Howard Wartz. The last of its inhabitants had grown and moved on to begin careers and start families.
The man's thoughtful green eyes peered out from underneath his hood as he saw the empty images of children laughing and running around the lifeless schoolyard. Their happy giggling echoed in his mind and faded as he brought his attention back to the real world. He blinked a few times and saw what really lay before him: a silent, dead building. The wind crept into his hood and nipped at the man's ears, reminding him to move on. So he turned and continued on his way.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The bells on the door clanged loudly as the door opened, rushing a gust of wind into the empty tavern. A young woman stood at the counter wiping a wet cloth along the countertop. She looked up from behind the bar and saw the young man remove his hood and seat himself on a stool in front of her. The slender, dark haired woman smiled at him.
"Hello, Arnold," she said politely. The man greeted her back with a smile and a nod.
"Hey, Phoebe." He let out a deep breath and unzipped his coat to cope with the sudden warmth in the cozy shop. "Business going slow today?" he asked when he noticed the lack of customers. He pulled the coat from his other arm as he took it off.
Phoebe picked up the washcloth she was wiping with and put it back down in a crumpled heap.
"As usual." She wiped her hands on her apron and turned to lean her elbows back against the countertop. "I don't know what I'm going to do with this place if I don't get some customers soon." She wiped the back of her hand against her forehead before letting out a yawn. The twenty year old Asian woman had weaned herself out of her intellectual dialect, but she was still as polite and reserved as she always had been.
"What time is it?" Phoebe asked. Arnold pushed up the sleeve of his blue sweater to reveal his watch.
"7:30."
Phoebe groaned as she fiddled with the bun in the back of her head. Arnold rested his chin in his hands as he leaned forward.
There was a lingering silence except for the faint humming of the refrigerator in the back room. After a while, Arnold broke the silence.
He sat up straight and said, "Hey, I heard Stinky and Lila are coming back." Phoebe looked at Arnold.
"Oh really?" Her face brightened at the rarely occurring news. Arnold nodded.
"Gee... It's been so long since we've seen either of them," she thought aloud.
"Yeah," Arnold added, "I wonder what they've been up to these days."
"Probably having lots of kids," Phoebe said, laughing. Arnold laughed too.
"Probably."
"Well... how about a vanilla shake?" Phoebe offered. Arnold shifted in his seat and remembered he had to get back home.
"No, thanks. Actually, I just came by to check up on you. I better head home soon anyway; it's getting dark."
"Yeah, I guess I can close up shop. Doesn't seem like there will be any more customers tonight." Phoebe untied her apron and put it under the bar. She straightened her long green dress, pulling it along her thin curvaceous body. Her long, straight hair fell onto her shoulders as she removed the chopsticks from her bun.
Arnold had gotten up and put his coat on. He replaced the hood over his face. His facial features had frown into a firm and mature look, although he still managed to keep his youthful appearance. His hair was shaggy and long enough to hang from his head, yet carefully cared for and still as blonde as ever.
Arnold stood outside by Phoebe and waited as she finished locking the door. She hugged the trench coat around her and together the two walked down the street to head home.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After dropping Phoebe off, Arnold opened the door of the boarding house. The waft of warm air warmed his body from the cold outside. He quietly shut the door behind him and hung his coat on the coat rack. The lights coming from the kitchen and living room were an inviting change from the dark streetlights he'd walked through outside. As he ruffled his fingers in his hair to free it from its messy state from the hood, he walked down the hallway. Arnold could smell a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen.
"Arnold?" a voice called. "Is that you?" He walked in and saw the young Vietnamese woman around his age stirring a pot of soup. Her short black hair hung around her face as she smiled gently at him.
"Welcome home. Soup's almost ready, so you better tell the boarders to come and get it." She went to the oven to retrieve the rest of the meal. Arnold headed upstairs to call the new generation of boarders to dinner.
Phoebe sat at her desk that night busily scribbling away at her manuscript. The small cozy apartment was completely dark except for the faint light emitted from the cheap rummage sale lamp in front of her. She sighed and put her pen down in front of her. Pushing aside a clumsy pile of undefined papers, Phoebe studied the dimly lit inscription on the corner of the desk she'd owned since she was a child. Helga + Phoebe 4-Ever was childishly carved into the wood. Phoebe could still remember when they did that, back at the end of 4th grade. She ran her long, slender fingers along the pure-hearted vandalism in her furniture. They had made a promise. A vow, that the best friends would never leave each other. They'd always be together, no matter what. Sisters to the end. But time went by, and with it life brought its struggles. And eventually, the promise was forgotten-- and abandoned. Helga was gone, and that's all there was to it. Phoebe's knuckles turned white in her clenched fist as the memories were refreshed in her mind. She couldn't be angry at Helga for breaking the promise. Phoebe might have too, under the circumstances. After all, a silly little promise made at nine years old couldn't possible bear that much weight... could it? But Phoebe couldn't help but be a little bitter about it. She looked back at her work, the manuscript no longer looking as important.
"Next week," Phoebe whispered to the empty room. She could see Helga board the taxi. Young, naïve Helga who still had so much to learn about the world; about herself. Without looking back, Helga left her home, and left her childhood, only to vanish off the face of the earth. "Next week is the day."
@~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~}~~~~~
A/N: Okay, well, I don't know the principal's real name (Did anyone ever find out? 'Cuz I don't know.) so he looks like a Howard. And the school was shut down because we all know what happens to that school once he isn't there. Hmm, what else? I think that's all. Well, what do you think? Please review and tell me, I wanna make this a good one. ^_^ (Well, I want to make all my writing good, but you know... well, whatever.) Next chapter, comin' up!
