Beautiful: Part III

Beautiful: Part III

Life Is Fragile…

Author: T.A. Medley

Genre: Drama

Rating: PG

A/N: Thanks everyone for all the reviews. They were greatly appreciated.

Recap: Helga came back from England Beautiful (hence the title), and Arnold went crazy over her. They hung out on a double date type situation and they kissed.

Summary: All I can say is, this chapter doesn't focus on their relationship "per-say" but events leading up to conflict and emotional dysfunction's in this and chapters to come. To just be blunt about it, someone's hopes are shattered when a sudden death occurs.

Please read, enjoy, and review…

Life Is Fragile

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News Reporter:

He we are just off the coast of Costa Rica where we are standing close to an aircraft that was the victim of an accident within our skies. The bodies of two middle-aged people, a man and a woman, are being pulled out of the aircraft as of this very moment. We are unaware of their condition and we will be until further notice. We will keep you posted on the events of this "Tragedy in the Sky". This is Aurora Moore for Channel Four News. Back to you Tom and Barbara.

Arnold switched off the television and trudged toward the kitchen, running his fingers through his corn-flour blonde hair. He was alone in the boarding house. Summers were like that now, with everyone having jobs, even Mr. Kakoshka. His Grandma and Grandpa both were in some fitness program, Mr. Kakoshka was down McDonald's flipping burgers (he traded his bike for a spatula), Suzie was working as usual, and the only person home was Mr. Potts, whom Arnold rarely talked with. It had been three days since the infamous kiss at the beach between him and Helga, but as of now, that wasn't the most important thing on his mind. That piece of news really got to him. He inwardly asked himself could that be his parents, but brushed away the idea quickly. They were in South America, or so he thought.

The day was gloomy; cumulous clouds inhabited the skies like a thick gray sheet, as mist rained from the heavens. It was that hot, humid summer rain, the kind that made you sticky; the kind nobody enjoyed. Arnold opened the silver refrigerator door and pulled out an ice cold cream soda. He snapped the lid slowly as he stared outside the window, watching the rain trickle down the glass. Inwardly, he wished his grandfather were here now, to reassure him that the people in the accident couldn't be his parents.

He stood there, leaned against the kitchen counter with the cold soda in his hand, and his eyes glued to the window, reminiscing of the last story he heard regarding his parents. The story where they went to save a village, if they could save an entire village, they would surely be able to take care of themselves. Surely.

Then out of the silence, the phone rang.

"Hello?" he asked after he picked up the cordless phone from the kitchen.

"Hey Arnold, my man. You sound gloomy, what's going on?" asked the deep, but scratchy voice from the other end.

"Oh, hey Gerald. Nothing, just thinking. What's up?"

"Nothing, but this rain's a killer. We can't do anything. It's raining and it's ninety degrees outside. Talk about strange. But anyway, remember how we used to play football in the rain?"

Arnold didn't answer. It was a rhetorical question and he knew Gerald would tell him anyway, regardless the answer.

"Well, why don't we gather the whole gang and meet at Gerald field for a quick game. What do you say, Arnold?"

Arnold thought it over and figured he needed to get his mind off that plane crash, so although a little reluctant, he agreed.

*~*~*~*

"So, Helga, you never told me what happened between you and Arnold at the beach," Phoebe said, anticipating a response from her friend.

"Nothing, I already told you," Helga yelled from the kitchen.

"Well, tell me again, I forget," Phoebe replied, a big, goofy grin spread across her lips.

Helga sighed and thought, "Why fight it." "Well," she began, carrying a tray of popcorn and sodas into her cool, plush living room, "We talked about stuff and then he kissed me. We went for coffee, talked about everything we could possibly think of. Get this, we even talked about how they make the little Dippin' Dot ice cream balls so round and small, and how they make Jell-O green. I told him it was with food coloring and he made up some story about it being the slime that alien pod people left behind in Roswell, New Mexico after they slithered away from their ships. Then he walked me home, and we kissed again. That's all."

"All? Please that was like so monumental. I can't believe it. You guys are finally a couple."

"A couple of what?" Helga asked sarcastically as she put a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

"You know what I mean," Phoebe squeaked with utter excitement. "You know this popcorn is so good, but so bad for you."

"How, it's home-made, with no salt and low fat oil."

"But look," Phoebe said as she picked a handful of popcorn, that dripped with butter as she marveled at its amazement in the air. "How much butter did you put in here?"

"A cup," Helga responded nonchalantly.

"A cup!? No wonder it has so much buttery goodness. I can feel my arteries clogging already," Phoebe sputtered.

"But seriously, Arnold and I are not a couple. We haven't talked since that day."

"All guys do that. After out first kiss, Gerald didn't call me for three days, too. I think it's just a guy thing."

"Or maybe Arnold is just not interested," Helga said, running her clean hand through her long, blonde locks.

"Yeah right, do you not see the way he looks at you?" Phoebe asked, taking a swig of her soda.

"Apparently not. How is it that you see things I don't?"

"Experience."

"Experience? Speaking of experience, how did you and Gerald actually hook up?" asked Helga, a cynical smile forming across her lips.

"Later. You're phone's about to ring," Phoebe said monotonously, just as the phone rang.

"You know that's really scary? How do you do that?"

"Some call it a gift," Phoebe said as she pulled a bag of licorice from off the table as Helga ran for the phone.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hey, Helga it's me Arnold," said the voice.

"Uh, hi Arnold," she responded. At the sound of his name, Phoebe's head turned at a hundred miles an hour and she walked on her knees at the same speed to hear what was going on.

"Hey, sorry for not calling. It's just been weird around here," Arnold said apologetically.

"It's totally okay, I know how that could be," Helga said, pushing on Phoebe's forehead trying to keep her away.

"Are you busy today?"

"Uh no, why?"

"Because, we were going to go to Gerald's field for a football game and I was wondering…"

"But it's raining," Helga interrupted.

"Yeah I know, but playing football in the rain is really fun," he said.

"She'll go!" Phoebe screamed, grabbing on to Helgas' short, white shorts.

"Arnold can you hold on, one second?" Helga asked impatiently.

However, before Arnold could say "Sure" he heard rustling and screaming from the other line. All he could make out was "stop" and "my hair".

After about two more minutes, Helga picked up the phone again, brushing her hair from her face and pulling down her shorts, while he heard Phoebe cackling in the background.

"Sorry about that. Phoebe's here and we're, uh, doing stuff," she said out of breath. Meanwhile, Phoebe lays on the ground, slowly recovering from their recent rough housing.

"So what do you say? Maybe after that you could come to my house and watch movies or something," Arnold asked anxiously.

"After football, in the rain?" she asked quizzically.

"We do have a shower," he said sarcastically.

"Yeah, I figured so," she rebutted. "That sounds great. We'll be at the field in twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes?" he asked. "What do you need twenty minutes for?"

"One, I'm in shorts, two, I'll need a change of clothes, and three I need to clean up this mess."

"Well, one, you can play football with shorts on, two, how long does it take to throw jeans and a shirt in a bag? Three, stuff it under the couch and call it a day."

"You're disgusting," Helga laughed.

"I know."

"Fine, we'll be there in ten, then. See you later."

"Bye," Arnold said.

"Bye," she responded.

*~*~*

GERALD FIELD

"Two, forty-three, forty-seven, hike!" Arnold yelled as he through the ball to Gerald who ran in attempt to make the touchdown but fumbled after sliding in the mud.

"Come on boys, I know you can beat us girls," Helga yelled.

What was supposed to be a friendly game between boys and girls, turned out to be an all out battle of the sexes.

"Come on guys, let's teach these girls a thing or two about real football," Arnold said, a malicious glint in his eye.

"Yeah, give us a lesson, football head, if you can," she said, with a loving but cynical look on her face.

"Two, twenty-three, hike!" Arnold yelled as he prepared to throw the ball to Sid. Unfortunately before the ball could be thrown, Helga came from nowhere and tackled Arnold roughly.

Arnold fell backwards onto the ground and doubled over in mock pain, as Helga stood over him, her smile fading away.

"Arnold, are you okay? I didn't mean to…" she stammered as everyone else circled around them.

Suddenly Arnold grabbed Helga's arm and pulled her into the mud with him.

"That's not fair!" she yelled.

"What! Who blind sided me?"

"That was me practicing the element of surprise!" she screamed.

"Well then so was I!" Arnold shot back, as they rolled together in the mud, laughing and playing as if they were the only ones around.

"Now that's just plain wrong," Stinky said in his country slur, as he looked at them rolling around like wild children.

Then from the empty street, a black car pulled up, and Arnold's grandparents came out. His grandfather, who was usually happy, looked more old and haggard than usual. His grandmother, was crying.

"What's wrong?" he asked grabbing Helga's hand and running with her toward his family, as the rain came down in sheets.

"Arnold, I need to talk to you in private," Phil said in low, solemn voice.

"No, whatever you have to say, I want Helga to be here when you say it," Arnold said urgently, squeezing her hand even tighter.

"Well, Arnold, I don't know how to say this but, but…" Phil said, unable to get the words out.

"They've passed on Arnold," said Gertie.

"What? Who?" he asked worriedly.

"Your parents, kimba. They died in a plane crash off the coast of Puerto Rico. Their aircraft exploded, they didn't feel much pain, they're just…gone," she explained, taking Phil's hand.

Arnold just stood there, he didn't move, he didn't breath. Helga turned to look at Phoebe and the others, then looked at Arnold.

"I am so sorry, Arnold, I'm sorry," she said gently as she wrapped her arms around him. He laid his head on her shoulder and he cried as it began to rain harder.

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Hey, what do you think? Please review.

It was sad, I know, but the next chapter won't be.

Look for it it's called:

…Handle with Care

Thanks for reading, and don't hesitate to drop me a line. (tyice15@yahoo.com)