Okay, here's the bottom line. I WANT REVIEWS! How hard is it to type a
sentence or two after you read my story?! I type hundreds of sentences for
you, and I get what, 9?
Okay, with that said, and my ridilin taken, we can safely go on with the story. Also, I made a mistake in the last chapter. Near the end, Will calls Helga Helga, instead of Haley. Just omit that mistake from your minds, I wrote it at about 10 o'clock at night. That is also the reason I could use an editor (hint hint), so email me if you want to help me out.
Arnold and Phoebe walked into their new high school, looking around for the reason that they had both dropped their lives. They had gone to the office, gotten their schedules and books, and were now wandering around until their first class. Phoebe had pulled some strings and gotten their homeroom and lunch period together. Now, they wouldn't have to face it alone. They didn't find her, so they went to homeroom.
"Okay Arnold, if we do see Helga, we have to have a good story for being here. We're both pretty smart, so we could say that our old school recommended this school for our senior year since it would be more challenging. She might just buy it."
"Yeah, I mean, its not like I could just go up to her and say, "I love you." She'd hate me forever."
"I know she wouldn't hate you, she'd probably just be somewhat skeptical. She knows what it's like to love someone who doesn't return the feeling. She won't hate you."
Even though this speech was made to make Arnold feel better, it made him feel considerably worse.
"So, she already loves someone? Do I even have a chance?"
"Believe me Arnold, you have all the luck in the world for getting what you want."
"How do you know?"
"I have a sixth sense about these things."
"Let's just hope you're right." They didn't see her all day. Arnold wasn't discouraged in the least though. He was happy knowing that he would soon be with the one he loved.
Helga went home that day, wishing she were anywhere but where she was. At home, no one cared about her, and now that she had two names, it was quite confusing. Bob would call her Olga for about a third of the time, the rest was a mixture of Helga, Haley and, Hattie. Helga didn't even know where he came up with that one. Olga was gone most of the time, interviewing for colleges where she could get her masters. She had taken a year off to do charity work for children in Alaska, so she was eager to be the center of attention again. She wished all the time that she had refused to move, and had figured out a way to stay back in the old neighborhood. She should have talked to Phoebe. She knew how to do everything. Will had been nice and everything, but what Helga really needed were her friends.
Helga's gum shrine had been found when they were packing up the house, and was thrown out. She made a new place where she could worship Arnold, and with no risk of getting her lips stuck when she fanaticized about kissing him. It was in the back of her walk in closet, made out of photographs that had been taken throughout they're lifetimes. Most of them were can did shots, Arnold walking down the street, taken from an alley, Arnold hitting a home run, eating pizza, talking to people. Some were shots that Helga had actually gotten the nerve to ask Arnold to pose for, her excuse being a photography class that Helga had taken just for this reason.
Her life was becoming unbearable, so she called Phoebe. The W.P.A. (witness protection agency) had strictly forbid any contact with previous acquaintances, but Helga needed to talk to her best friend. She picked up her phone and dialed Phoebe's number.
Phoebe had just walked into her house when her phone rang. She went to the kitchen, picked it up and said,
"Hello?" A quavering voice on the other end softly said,
"Phoebe?"
"Helga? Is that you?" Helga broke down and started crying.
"Phoebe. I need you. You have to come and help me."
"Helga? What's wrong?" Phoebe had to play the dummy.
"We…we moved. But not far away. Only to the other side of town. I need you Phoebe. I can't do this without you."
"Helga, slow down. What can I do?"
" I don't know! Switch schools, or run away." Helga was sobbing again.
"I'm sorry Phoebe. That was unfair. Do what you can. At least visit me on weekends. I'll email you the address, cause our mail gets watched. And you can't tell a soul."
"Helga, I'll do what I can. Just hold in there."
"Thanks Phoebe."
Phoebe put down her phone, exasperated. She was torn between the loyalty of two friends. In one hand she held Arnold's heart, in the other she held Helga's friendship and sanity. After a debate between her two choices, Phoebe chose to help Helga. She was Helga's one friend, and Arnold was smart. He could take care of himself. They could still drive to school together; just Phoebe wouldn't be there with him. She called Arnold that night to tell him.
"Hey, Arnold?"
"Yeah, hi Phoebe."
"Arnold, I have something to tell you."
"What is it? Is something wrong?"
"No, not exactly. I just heard from Helga."
"Is she okay? Is she hurt?"
"No, she's relatively fine."
"Good."
"See, she needs my help dealing with this, and she swore me to secrecy."
"And?"
"Well, I need to help her Arnold. And that means I can't help you. So, I'll still drive you too and from school, but after that, you're on your own."
"Oh."
"I really quite sorry Arnold, but I feel that my loyalties lie with Helga."
"It's fine Phoebe. I'm glad you're going to help her."
"I'm glad you can take this so well. And one other thing. Don't tell her that I knew you were in on this, and try to limit our socialization together in school."
"Okay Phoebe. Anything for Helga."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
(In a small, shady looking office in the north side of Chicago.)
"Boss, we got the numbers on the Pataki clan. All we need is your signal."
"Thass good Little Tim. Thass real good news."
"So you want me to get the guys boss?"
"No, I wanna deal with this personally."
"Personally boss?"
"Hey, the man put my own brother in the slammer. This isn't business. Its family."
"Right boss."
"Get outta here Little Tim."
"Right boss." The gangster leaves the man, who leans back in his chair and says,
"I'm gonna hit this Bob where it hurts. His own family."
Well, I know it's short, but you can't have everything! I know I said in one of the fist chapters that I would put some real dialogue from the play in, and I'm working on it. I just have to get the stories to match up. Till then,
The Mysterious,
Black Notebook
Okay, with that said, and my ridilin taken, we can safely go on with the story. Also, I made a mistake in the last chapter. Near the end, Will calls Helga Helga, instead of Haley. Just omit that mistake from your minds, I wrote it at about 10 o'clock at night. That is also the reason I could use an editor (hint hint), so email me if you want to help me out.
Arnold and Phoebe walked into their new high school, looking around for the reason that they had both dropped their lives. They had gone to the office, gotten their schedules and books, and were now wandering around until their first class. Phoebe had pulled some strings and gotten their homeroom and lunch period together. Now, they wouldn't have to face it alone. They didn't find her, so they went to homeroom.
"Okay Arnold, if we do see Helga, we have to have a good story for being here. We're both pretty smart, so we could say that our old school recommended this school for our senior year since it would be more challenging. She might just buy it."
"Yeah, I mean, its not like I could just go up to her and say, "I love you." She'd hate me forever."
"I know she wouldn't hate you, she'd probably just be somewhat skeptical. She knows what it's like to love someone who doesn't return the feeling. She won't hate you."
Even though this speech was made to make Arnold feel better, it made him feel considerably worse.
"So, she already loves someone? Do I even have a chance?"
"Believe me Arnold, you have all the luck in the world for getting what you want."
"How do you know?"
"I have a sixth sense about these things."
"Let's just hope you're right." They didn't see her all day. Arnold wasn't discouraged in the least though. He was happy knowing that he would soon be with the one he loved.
Helga went home that day, wishing she were anywhere but where she was. At home, no one cared about her, and now that she had two names, it was quite confusing. Bob would call her Olga for about a third of the time, the rest was a mixture of Helga, Haley and, Hattie. Helga didn't even know where he came up with that one. Olga was gone most of the time, interviewing for colleges where she could get her masters. She had taken a year off to do charity work for children in Alaska, so she was eager to be the center of attention again. She wished all the time that she had refused to move, and had figured out a way to stay back in the old neighborhood. She should have talked to Phoebe. She knew how to do everything. Will had been nice and everything, but what Helga really needed were her friends.
Helga's gum shrine had been found when they were packing up the house, and was thrown out. She made a new place where she could worship Arnold, and with no risk of getting her lips stuck when she fanaticized about kissing him. It was in the back of her walk in closet, made out of photographs that had been taken throughout they're lifetimes. Most of them were can did shots, Arnold walking down the street, taken from an alley, Arnold hitting a home run, eating pizza, talking to people. Some were shots that Helga had actually gotten the nerve to ask Arnold to pose for, her excuse being a photography class that Helga had taken just for this reason.
Her life was becoming unbearable, so she called Phoebe. The W.P.A. (witness protection agency) had strictly forbid any contact with previous acquaintances, but Helga needed to talk to her best friend. She picked up her phone and dialed Phoebe's number.
Phoebe had just walked into her house when her phone rang. She went to the kitchen, picked it up and said,
"Hello?" A quavering voice on the other end softly said,
"Phoebe?"
"Helga? Is that you?" Helga broke down and started crying.
"Phoebe. I need you. You have to come and help me."
"Helga? What's wrong?" Phoebe had to play the dummy.
"We…we moved. But not far away. Only to the other side of town. I need you Phoebe. I can't do this without you."
"Helga, slow down. What can I do?"
" I don't know! Switch schools, or run away." Helga was sobbing again.
"I'm sorry Phoebe. That was unfair. Do what you can. At least visit me on weekends. I'll email you the address, cause our mail gets watched. And you can't tell a soul."
"Helga, I'll do what I can. Just hold in there."
"Thanks Phoebe."
Phoebe put down her phone, exasperated. She was torn between the loyalty of two friends. In one hand she held Arnold's heart, in the other she held Helga's friendship and sanity. After a debate between her two choices, Phoebe chose to help Helga. She was Helga's one friend, and Arnold was smart. He could take care of himself. They could still drive to school together; just Phoebe wouldn't be there with him. She called Arnold that night to tell him.
"Hey, Arnold?"
"Yeah, hi Phoebe."
"Arnold, I have something to tell you."
"What is it? Is something wrong?"
"No, not exactly. I just heard from Helga."
"Is she okay? Is she hurt?"
"No, she's relatively fine."
"Good."
"See, she needs my help dealing with this, and she swore me to secrecy."
"And?"
"Well, I need to help her Arnold. And that means I can't help you. So, I'll still drive you too and from school, but after that, you're on your own."
"Oh."
"I really quite sorry Arnold, but I feel that my loyalties lie with Helga."
"It's fine Phoebe. I'm glad you're going to help her."
"I'm glad you can take this so well. And one other thing. Don't tell her that I knew you were in on this, and try to limit our socialization together in school."
"Okay Phoebe. Anything for Helga."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
(In a small, shady looking office in the north side of Chicago.)
"Boss, we got the numbers on the Pataki clan. All we need is your signal."
"Thass good Little Tim. Thass real good news."
"So you want me to get the guys boss?"
"No, I wanna deal with this personally."
"Personally boss?"
"Hey, the man put my own brother in the slammer. This isn't business. Its family."
"Right boss."
"Get outta here Little Tim."
"Right boss." The gangster leaves the man, who leans back in his chair and says,
"I'm gonna hit this Bob where it hurts. His own family."
Well, I know it's short, but you can't have everything! I know I said in one of the fist chapters that I would put some real dialogue from the play in, and I'm working on it. I just have to get the stories to match up. Till then,
The Mysterious,
Black Notebook