Author's Note: And I'm back again! Hmmm…maybe I should make my
installments fewer and further between…I'm not making you work for this at
all. Nah, just kidding…
Disclaimer: Me no = Craig. Sorry.
Part IV
"Anger"
Helga awoke to the sounds of the bolt sliding open, and Arnold shifting gently underneath her. She opened her eyes, blinking owlishly as the door opened and Eddie walked in.
He looked down at Arnold and Helga, nestled like spoons against each other. "Well, well, well," he said dryly, with faint surprise. "You two certainly hit it off."
Helga realized how it must look—the two of them curled up together, Arnold without a shirt, Helga herself in that ridiculously ornamental cocktail dress. She tugged on the hemline, trying to pull it down over her thighs a little more, while she kept up a cool front.
"Oh, Arnold and I go way back," she told Eddie casually, sitting up and taking Arnold's hand. "Didn't you know we grew up in Brooklyn together? I've known him since I was three."
Eddie's eyebrows shot up. "It is a small world, isn't it?"
Arnold edged his head into Helga's lap, obviously enjoying baiting Eddie just as much as Helga did. "Tiny. Miniscule, even."
"Well, I'm dreadfully sorry, Helga dearest, but your old chum Arnold has a meeting with a blacksnake whip," Eddie said, looking almost apologetic.
Helga pouted coyly. "Oh, you wouldn't do that to me, would you, Eddie? Just when Arnold and I are catching up on old times?" She lifted her eyes to his brown ones, challenging him.
He bowed to necessity, knowing that this was not the time to oppose her. "I certainly would not, love. Well, then, I bid you good day. Arnold."
Arnold gave him a cheery wave. "Toodles, Eds."
"My darling."
Helga winked. "Bye, Eddie."
Eddie walked out of the cell with the same false smile on his face, and the guards closed the door and bolted it behind him. The minute it was closed, the smile vanished. He pulled the guards towards him and lowered his voice.
"Watch them," he hissed through gritted teeth. "If anything…*happens*…notify me immediately. I will not have him stealing my treasure and my beloved both." With that, he marched off, his expensive shoes clicking on the stone floor.
Inside the cell, Helga and Arnold were blissfully unaware of their increased surveillance. "You know, I think I could get to like having you around," Arnold said, obviously delighted with her avoidance of his punishment for the day.
"Oh, you could, could you?" Helga replied archly, running her fingers through his hair absentmindedly. Cowlicks like fields of yellow corn… "Well, don't get used to it. I think I'll be going in a few days."
"Oh? Just going to catch a plane out?"
"Yeah, that seems about right. You think I should just ask Eddie when it's convenient for him for me to leave?"
Arnold laughed. "Why not? He's an amiable guy. He oughta let you go whenever you want."
"Oh, yeah, you two certainly get along well," she replied teasingly. There was something comforting about sitting there, his head in her lap, playing with his hair. It was like they were no longer in a jail in the middle of a foreign country…like they were just two young people enjoying each other's company…like they were a couple, almost. And there was something wildly terrifying and comfortably homey about Arnold, as always—the intense passion of a love she had borne for so many years coupled with everything good in her childhood. He was her beginnings and her present…and even now, when her future seemed desperately uncertain, he was that, too. Even if her future was just to be an extension of her present for the rest of her life.
Arnold began to recite something. After a moment, she realized what it was…one of her poems. But it wasn't taunting, the way Eddie's recitation had been. It was flattering, exciting that he'd enjoyed one of her poems enough to remember it this well.
I dreamed of you last night
Dreamt you could make it right
I begged you not to go away
And in my dream, you longed to stay
But wandered off into the night
And maybe if I'd known
That you'd leave me alone
I wouldn't have been so aloof
I would've tried to tell the truth
But now, at last, I've finally grown
And now, I can confess
My secret laid to rest
Of all the lovers in my bed
And all the dreams inside my head
It was you I loved the best
"It was you I loved the best," Arnold repeated softly, looking up into Helga's eyes. "That was my favorite one, I think."
"I like that one," Helga agreed, unable to tear herself away from his eyes. They were hard to read, upside down like this. Arnold had always worn his heart on his sleeve, but now she couldn't quite make out his feelings.
Arnold sat up, abruptly. "Helga…I need to tell you something. Because…it's not fair to you not to know this."
"What?" Helga asked, concerned. Arnold stood up and began pacing the cell, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to figure something out. Suddenly he came over to her and held out his hands to pull her to her feet.
She let him pull her up, but he didn't let go. There was something intense and earnest in his eyes, something like the desperation he had gone for the water with, but more pained.
"Have you ever heard a song?" he asked. His voice was soft, low and so intense that she didn't miss a word. "One song that from the moment you hear it, it feels like you could have written it, if you only had the talent. Like the music is just…like Rumpelstiltskin spinning straw into gold, it's spinning your feelings into notes that everyone can hear. And the words are…are every thought you ever had."
Helga nodded slowly. It was hard to concentrate, with him looking at her like that and gently squeezing her hands, as if what he was trying to say was so important, so vital that he couldn't keep still.
"And sometimes it's not even really like the words reflect your life, but they're still you…not the you that everyone knows, but the you that only you yourself see…the one that really understands you. Do you know what I mean?"
Helga knew exactly what he meant. But all she could manage was a soft "…yeah…" and she knew that wasn't enough.
He looked frustrated, drained of inspiration. "Look, Helga, what I'm trying to say is…" He sighed. "Seeing you again, now that I…" Their faces were now only inches away, and he tried again. "Helga, I need to tell you that…"
"…Yes?" she whispered. His eyes were so close that she felt she was sinking into a green forest pool.
"You're…" He trailed off. With an almost rough abruptness, as if words had suddenly failed him, he leaned forward and kissed her.
His lips were dry and his breath tasted like dried fruit, but it didn't matter. It was the most perfect kiss that Helga had ever been one half of, more than any other man in this hemisphere or the next, more than the little boy she'd kissed so long ago on a quiet stage. His kisses tasted like sunshine, something poetic that only she understood.
He broke away, his chest heaving, two red spots burning in his cheeks. "I'm sorry…" he whispered, looking almost defeated.
She pulled him towards her roughly. No one ever accused Helga Geraldine Pataki of being a gentle, tender kisser. "Please…" she murmured, bringing her lips up to his, satisfying a hunger for him that had been lying insatiated for twenty long years.
This time he wrapped his arms around her crushingly, kissing her frantically, as if any moment she might be taken away from him. Fat chance, Helga thought as she tightened her arms around his neck. We're gonna be here for a long time. Then she forgot to think and just lost herself in Arnold's embrace.
It seemed all the more cruel when rough hands suddenly forced them apart.
A guard yanked back on her shoulders, ripping her out of Arnold's embrace. She wanted to cry out for him, run back into his arms, but she was held fast by the guard. She bit her tongue to keep from calling Arnold's name.
Another guard held a struggling Arnold. Eddie walked into the cell two more guards behind him, his eyes cold. "I knew it," he said darkly. He looked at Helga. "Why? Why, my love? And with…this?" he finished, sneering at Arnold.
"I was never promised to you!" Helga spat. "You kidnapped me! I never came here of my own free will! You have no right to demand anything of me!" she raged at him, trying to free herself from the guard's strong grip.
"Helga, Helga, Helga," said Eddie in an oily, eerily calm voice. "This…he is nothing. I can give you everything. Riches, prestige, power…"
"I had all that on my own, thanks," Helga snapped. "This is the twenty- first century. I'm not a concubine you can buy. And Arnold? He's more than you'll ever be. He's brave, he's wise, he's kind…you're a lying, cowardly snake."
Eddie's eyes narrowed. "Whip him," he commanded, his voice snapping with anger, his eyes still boring into Helga's. She was startled at first, thinking he was talking to her, but then she saw the guards respond. One drove his fist into Arnold's stomach, making him double over in pain. The one who had been holding Arnold shoved him to the ground and placed his booted footed on the back of Arnold's neck, allowing him to rise to his hands and knees and then stopping him there. The last guard handed the one who had punched Arnold a long blacksnake whip.
Helga watched in horror as the guard raised the whip over his head. With a sickening crack he brought it down across Arnold's back. Arnold jerked in pain, and a line of red appeared over yesterday's wounds. She saw him grit his teeth, and knew he was determined not to cry out.
"Keep going," Eddie ordered. "Until he breaks."
The horror of that suddenly hit home to Helga, as the lash went down a second time. Arnold wouldn't break. He wouldn't cry out, he wouldn't beg for mercy, he wouldn't let them triumph over his spirit. Which meant that they would whip him…until he died. While she watched. They would kill him…to punish her.
The lash cracked a third time. Before Helga knew what she was doing, she elbowed her captor hard in the solar plexus and stomped down hard on his instep. He released her, and before anyone could react, she ran in to block the whip on its fourth downward stroke.
The lash coiled around her wrist, biting into the pale, sensitive skin. It stung, so sharply it brought tears of pain to her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. Uncoiling the whip in one smooth motion, she turned and kicked the guard who was holding Arnold down with his foot. She aimed for his stomach, but missed and hit too low. He doubled over, clutching his groin in agony.
A rush of energy ran through Helga. She was Helga G. Pataki again, Queen of P.S. 118, Goddess of the Playground Bullies. Arnold scrambled to his feet behind her, backing towards the wall. She could see his face out of the corner of her eye, gray with pain, but smiling faintly.
She cracked the whip in front of her, warning Eddie and his other three guards back. "Just a warning," she glowered, feeling herself hum with power. "You harm one hair on his head and I don't care how many bullets you fill me with, I will be proud to serve you your genitals on a plate."
Eddie looked like he was wrestling with himself over something. Suddenly a smile came down over his glare. "Brilliant!" he said, half to himself. He spread his hands. "Helga, you've impressed me. I won't touch your friend. Really. I give my word."
Helga raised an eyebrow. "I'm supposed to trust the word of my kidnapper?"
"Touché, Helga. Touché." His eyes flickered away from her for a second, and Helga grew wary. "But I still have my trump card left to play."
"What's that?" Helga wanted to know, still suspicious. A small noise from Arnold behind her made her turn her head, still keeping her body and the whip forward.
The guard she had kneed in the groin had recovered, and was now holding a gun to Arnold's raw back. Inwardly she cursed. How could she have let this slip? It was all going right for a minute there…
"Here's the deal," Eddie informed her. "I can't have you staying here. I will relocate you to another jail some distance away, until such time as you decide to accept my former proposal, which still stands. Arnold will remain here, unharmed as relates to you. Go without a fight, and he will be fine. Resist, and he dies. It's your choice."
What could she do? Arnold's life was the most important thing. Helga turned and faced Arnold.
"I'm sorry," she said, searching in his green eyes for something, any sign that he forgave her for this…desertion. "I can't let them kill you. I…I tried."
He stared back at her, standing boldly upright despite his obvious pain, his head held high. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. She lifted her hand and touched his cheek, gently, tenderly.
Turning back to Eddie, she lifted the whip that was still in her hands. Firmly, decisively, she grabbed it near the base and snapped the whip part from the handle with a loud crack. Throwing the pieces to the ground, she walked towards the guards.
One of them produced a chain from somewhere and swiftly, brusquely, ran it through the rings on her manacles, chaining her wrists together. Eddie turned and walked away, the guards following him, one pulling Helga by her chain like a dog on a lead. She turned and looked one last time at Arnold, standing like a statue in the middle of the floor as they closed and bolted the door on him.
They walked down the hall, past countless cells, towards a flight of stairs. Helga was led up the stairs in silence, neither speaking a word to her captors nor receiving any from them. They walked out the doors of the jail and towards a truck, where Helga was unceremoniously loaded into the back. One guard got into the driver's seat, while Eddie took the passenger side, and they drove away in a cloud of dust that made Helga's eyes water.
Helga remembered the number that had been on the door of the cell. 118. Well, if that wasn't Fate, what was? She stared out the open back of the truck, ignoring the irritation of dust in her eyes, memorizing the path they took, the road back to him. Yes, she had gone along with Eddie's deal…for now. But something had changed, with Arnold's kiss and Eddie's threat. No more ineffectual poet. She was Helga G. Pataki again, for better or for worse, and no one told her what to do or held her down.
So long, Arnold—for now, she thought, allowing herself to smile as the jail receded into the Egyptian marketplace. I'll be seeing you soon.
The end. No, I wouldn't do that to you guys. Ooh, here's the action. Well, a glimpse of it. Just wait till I get started. Oh, there's more to come, just you wait. I have plans for our favorite couple, muahahahaha*coughchokehack*hahaha!
Disclaimer: Me no = Craig. Sorry.
Part IV
"Anger"
Helga awoke to the sounds of the bolt sliding open, and Arnold shifting gently underneath her. She opened her eyes, blinking owlishly as the door opened and Eddie walked in.
He looked down at Arnold and Helga, nestled like spoons against each other. "Well, well, well," he said dryly, with faint surprise. "You two certainly hit it off."
Helga realized how it must look—the two of them curled up together, Arnold without a shirt, Helga herself in that ridiculously ornamental cocktail dress. She tugged on the hemline, trying to pull it down over her thighs a little more, while she kept up a cool front.
"Oh, Arnold and I go way back," she told Eddie casually, sitting up and taking Arnold's hand. "Didn't you know we grew up in Brooklyn together? I've known him since I was three."
Eddie's eyebrows shot up. "It is a small world, isn't it?"
Arnold edged his head into Helga's lap, obviously enjoying baiting Eddie just as much as Helga did. "Tiny. Miniscule, even."
"Well, I'm dreadfully sorry, Helga dearest, but your old chum Arnold has a meeting with a blacksnake whip," Eddie said, looking almost apologetic.
Helga pouted coyly. "Oh, you wouldn't do that to me, would you, Eddie? Just when Arnold and I are catching up on old times?" She lifted her eyes to his brown ones, challenging him.
He bowed to necessity, knowing that this was not the time to oppose her. "I certainly would not, love. Well, then, I bid you good day. Arnold."
Arnold gave him a cheery wave. "Toodles, Eds."
"My darling."
Helga winked. "Bye, Eddie."
Eddie walked out of the cell with the same false smile on his face, and the guards closed the door and bolted it behind him. The minute it was closed, the smile vanished. He pulled the guards towards him and lowered his voice.
"Watch them," he hissed through gritted teeth. "If anything…*happens*…notify me immediately. I will not have him stealing my treasure and my beloved both." With that, he marched off, his expensive shoes clicking on the stone floor.
Inside the cell, Helga and Arnold were blissfully unaware of their increased surveillance. "You know, I think I could get to like having you around," Arnold said, obviously delighted with her avoidance of his punishment for the day.
"Oh, you could, could you?" Helga replied archly, running her fingers through his hair absentmindedly. Cowlicks like fields of yellow corn… "Well, don't get used to it. I think I'll be going in a few days."
"Oh? Just going to catch a plane out?"
"Yeah, that seems about right. You think I should just ask Eddie when it's convenient for him for me to leave?"
Arnold laughed. "Why not? He's an amiable guy. He oughta let you go whenever you want."
"Oh, yeah, you two certainly get along well," she replied teasingly. There was something comforting about sitting there, his head in her lap, playing with his hair. It was like they were no longer in a jail in the middle of a foreign country…like they were just two young people enjoying each other's company…like they were a couple, almost. And there was something wildly terrifying and comfortably homey about Arnold, as always—the intense passion of a love she had borne for so many years coupled with everything good in her childhood. He was her beginnings and her present…and even now, when her future seemed desperately uncertain, he was that, too. Even if her future was just to be an extension of her present for the rest of her life.
Arnold began to recite something. After a moment, she realized what it was…one of her poems. But it wasn't taunting, the way Eddie's recitation had been. It was flattering, exciting that he'd enjoyed one of her poems enough to remember it this well.
I dreamed of you last night
Dreamt you could make it right
I begged you not to go away
And in my dream, you longed to stay
But wandered off into the night
And maybe if I'd known
That you'd leave me alone
I wouldn't have been so aloof
I would've tried to tell the truth
But now, at last, I've finally grown
And now, I can confess
My secret laid to rest
Of all the lovers in my bed
And all the dreams inside my head
It was you I loved the best
"It was you I loved the best," Arnold repeated softly, looking up into Helga's eyes. "That was my favorite one, I think."
"I like that one," Helga agreed, unable to tear herself away from his eyes. They were hard to read, upside down like this. Arnold had always worn his heart on his sleeve, but now she couldn't quite make out his feelings.
Arnold sat up, abruptly. "Helga…I need to tell you something. Because…it's not fair to you not to know this."
"What?" Helga asked, concerned. Arnold stood up and began pacing the cell, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to figure something out. Suddenly he came over to her and held out his hands to pull her to her feet.
She let him pull her up, but he didn't let go. There was something intense and earnest in his eyes, something like the desperation he had gone for the water with, but more pained.
"Have you ever heard a song?" he asked. His voice was soft, low and so intense that she didn't miss a word. "One song that from the moment you hear it, it feels like you could have written it, if you only had the talent. Like the music is just…like Rumpelstiltskin spinning straw into gold, it's spinning your feelings into notes that everyone can hear. And the words are…are every thought you ever had."
Helga nodded slowly. It was hard to concentrate, with him looking at her like that and gently squeezing her hands, as if what he was trying to say was so important, so vital that he couldn't keep still.
"And sometimes it's not even really like the words reflect your life, but they're still you…not the you that everyone knows, but the you that only you yourself see…the one that really understands you. Do you know what I mean?"
Helga knew exactly what he meant. But all she could manage was a soft "…yeah…" and she knew that wasn't enough.
He looked frustrated, drained of inspiration. "Look, Helga, what I'm trying to say is…" He sighed. "Seeing you again, now that I…" Their faces were now only inches away, and he tried again. "Helga, I need to tell you that…"
"…Yes?" she whispered. His eyes were so close that she felt she was sinking into a green forest pool.
"You're…" He trailed off. With an almost rough abruptness, as if words had suddenly failed him, he leaned forward and kissed her.
His lips were dry and his breath tasted like dried fruit, but it didn't matter. It was the most perfect kiss that Helga had ever been one half of, more than any other man in this hemisphere or the next, more than the little boy she'd kissed so long ago on a quiet stage. His kisses tasted like sunshine, something poetic that only she understood.
He broke away, his chest heaving, two red spots burning in his cheeks. "I'm sorry…" he whispered, looking almost defeated.
She pulled him towards her roughly. No one ever accused Helga Geraldine Pataki of being a gentle, tender kisser. "Please…" she murmured, bringing her lips up to his, satisfying a hunger for him that had been lying insatiated for twenty long years.
This time he wrapped his arms around her crushingly, kissing her frantically, as if any moment she might be taken away from him. Fat chance, Helga thought as she tightened her arms around his neck. We're gonna be here for a long time. Then she forgot to think and just lost herself in Arnold's embrace.
It seemed all the more cruel when rough hands suddenly forced them apart.
A guard yanked back on her shoulders, ripping her out of Arnold's embrace. She wanted to cry out for him, run back into his arms, but she was held fast by the guard. She bit her tongue to keep from calling Arnold's name.
Another guard held a struggling Arnold. Eddie walked into the cell two more guards behind him, his eyes cold. "I knew it," he said darkly. He looked at Helga. "Why? Why, my love? And with…this?" he finished, sneering at Arnold.
"I was never promised to you!" Helga spat. "You kidnapped me! I never came here of my own free will! You have no right to demand anything of me!" she raged at him, trying to free herself from the guard's strong grip.
"Helga, Helga, Helga," said Eddie in an oily, eerily calm voice. "This…he is nothing. I can give you everything. Riches, prestige, power…"
"I had all that on my own, thanks," Helga snapped. "This is the twenty- first century. I'm not a concubine you can buy. And Arnold? He's more than you'll ever be. He's brave, he's wise, he's kind…you're a lying, cowardly snake."
Eddie's eyes narrowed. "Whip him," he commanded, his voice snapping with anger, his eyes still boring into Helga's. She was startled at first, thinking he was talking to her, but then she saw the guards respond. One drove his fist into Arnold's stomach, making him double over in pain. The one who had been holding Arnold shoved him to the ground and placed his booted footed on the back of Arnold's neck, allowing him to rise to his hands and knees and then stopping him there. The last guard handed the one who had punched Arnold a long blacksnake whip.
Helga watched in horror as the guard raised the whip over his head. With a sickening crack he brought it down across Arnold's back. Arnold jerked in pain, and a line of red appeared over yesterday's wounds. She saw him grit his teeth, and knew he was determined not to cry out.
"Keep going," Eddie ordered. "Until he breaks."
The horror of that suddenly hit home to Helga, as the lash went down a second time. Arnold wouldn't break. He wouldn't cry out, he wouldn't beg for mercy, he wouldn't let them triumph over his spirit. Which meant that they would whip him…until he died. While she watched. They would kill him…to punish her.
The lash cracked a third time. Before Helga knew what she was doing, she elbowed her captor hard in the solar plexus and stomped down hard on his instep. He released her, and before anyone could react, she ran in to block the whip on its fourth downward stroke.
The lash coiled around her wrist, biting into the pale, sensitive skin. It stung, so sharply it brought tears of pain to her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. Uncoiling the whip in one smooth motion, she turned and kicked the guard who was holding Arnold down with his foot. She aimed for his stomach, but missed and hit too low. He doubled over, clutching his groin in agony.
A rush of energy ran through Helga. She was Helga G. Pataki again, Queen of P.S. 118, Goddess of the Playground Bullies. Arnold scrambled to his feet behind her, backing towards the wall. She could see his face out of the corner of her eye, gray with pain, but smiling faintly.
She cracked the whip in front of her, warning Eddie and his other three guards back. "Just a warning," she glowered, feeling herself hum with power. "You harm one hair on his head and I don't care how many bullets you fill me with, I will be proud to serve you your genitals on a plate."
Eddie looked like he was wrestling with himself over something. Suddenly a smile came down over his glare. "Brilliant!" he said, half to himself. He spread his hands. "Helga, you've impressed me. I won't touch your friend. Really. I give my word."
Helga raised an eyebrow. "I'm supposed to trust the word of my kidnapper?"
"Touché, Helga. Touché." His eyes flickered away from her for a second, and Helga grew wary. "But I still have my trump card left to play."
"What's that?" Helga wanted to know, still suspicious. A small noise from Arnold behind her made her turn her head, still keeping her body and the whip forward.
The guard she had kneed in the groin had recovered, and was now holding a gun to Arnold's raw back. Inwardly she cursed. How could she have let this slip? It was all going right for a minute there…
"Here's the deal," Eddie informed her. "I can't have you staying here. I will relocate you to another jail some distance away, until such time as you decide to accept my former proposal, which still stands. Arnold will remain here, unharmed as relates to you. Go without a fight, and he will be fine. Resist, and he dies. It's your choice."
What could she do? Arnold's life was the most important thing. Helga turned and faced Arnold.
"I'm sorry," she said, searching in his green eyes for something, any sign that he forgave her for this…desertion. "I can't let them kill you. I…I tried."
He stared back at her, standing boldly upright despite his obvious pain, his head held high. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. She lifted her hand and touched his cheek, gently, tenderly.
Turning back to Eddie, she lifted the whip that was still in her hands. Firmly, decisively, she grabbed it near the base and snapped the whip part from the handle with a loud crack. Throwing the pieces to the ground, she walked towards the guards.
One of them produced a chain from somewhere and swiftly, brusquely, ran it through the rings on her manacles, chaining her wrists together. Eddie turned and walked away, the guards following him, one pulling Helga by her chain like a dog on a lead. She turned and looked one last time at Arnold, standing like a statue in the middle of the floor as they closed and bolted the door on him.
They walked down the hall, past countless cells, towards a flight of stairs. Helga was led up the stairs in silence, neither speaking a word to her captors nor receiving any from them. They walked out the doors of the jail and towards a truck, where Helga was unceremoniously loaded into the back. One guard got into the driver's seat, while Eddie took the passenger side, and they drove away in a cloud of dust that made Helga's eyes water.
Helga remembered the number that had been on the door of the cell. 118. Well, if that wasn't Fate, what was? She stared out the open back of the truck, ignoring the irritation of dust in her eyes, memorizing the path they took, the road back to him. Yes, she had gone along with Eddie's deal…for now. But something had changed, with Arnold's kiss and Eddie's threat. No more ineffectual poet. She was Helga G. Pataki again, for better or for worse, and no one told her what to do or held her down.
So long, Arnold—for now, she thought, allowing herself to smile as the jail receded into the Egyptian marketplace. I'll be seeing you soon.
The end. No, I wouldn't do that to you guys. Ooh, here's the action. Well, a glimpse of it. Just wait till I get started. Oh, there's more to come, just you wait. I have plans for our favorite couple, muahahahaha*coughchokehack*hahaha!