-Chapter Two-
"So, er, Arnold. How've you been?"
Arnold sat in his living room. It wasn't really a living room, according to the brochure. Supposedly, it was a sitting room. There were two of these sitting rooms, and one master living room. On top of that there was a foyer, which he had no idea what it was, and continued to pronounce it fo-yur, a large bedroom, a guest room, a dining room, and even a game room. It all seemed so extremely frivolous to him, but who was he to argue? Not many houses also come with a view like his, and also…the room.
It was the room that clinched the decision. He had to have it. It was…an inspiration. Things hadn't been doing so well since he quit his old job. He had money, yes, he could retire if he wanted to, but who wanted to at 25? Besides, he had the rest of his life ahead of him.
Even though this should make him gut-burstingly happy, it was pushed aside in his brain so he could concentrate on the matters at hand. As of right now, he was far from fine.
"Fine."
The one who had spoken was Ernie Potts. Ernie was getting old, but he could still wield a wrecking ball like a pro. He started a demolition business, and got the reputation for being the most efficient one in town. As soon as he got enough money, he high-tailed it out of the boarding house and got himself a nice bit of real estate in the wealthier end of town. Never once looked back. Of course, he sent letters, but he hardly ever came to visit anyone anymore. This was a unique occasion.
"Alright." He said.
There was a pause.
"No you're not. How could you be?"
Susie. Of course. She was the only woman in the group clustered in the living room, er, sitting room. Stereotypically speaking, she would be the most sensitive and caring of the group. Realistically speaking, that was entirely true.
Susie sat with Oskar, who was busy twiddling his thumbs. The Kokoshkas had stayed at the boarding house longer than any of the other original boarders. They still fought, and even tossed cutlery, but they always stayed together. Oskar went from job to job for a while, but finally found a steady income at Potts' Wrecking Co., and needless to say, he had to swallow his pride to apply. Ernie almost had a heart attack from laughing, but gave him the job anyway, stating that if he didn't, Oskar'd probably keep leeching off of other people, and that he was doing the community a favor by hiring him. Everyone, including Oskar, knew he originally hired him for laughs, but Oskar proved he could work, and so Ernie kept him.
"No, really, I'm fine." Said Arnold in a monotone voice. No one bought it.
"Arnold, it's okay. We feel the same way."
Mr. Hyunh. Ex-country singer. Never liked fame, or he would have been a millionaire. As it was, he was still middle class. Which was admirable, in the grand scheme of things, or as far as he was concerned, great. It was as he said, he likes the simple things. Ever since he put out his first and only album, he'd been saving up, and eventually he had enough to buy a modest house in the northern part of town for him and Mai, who eventually moved out and became a teacher at PS119.
"No, but really Mr. Hyunh, I'm great. Does anyone want any refreshments?" Arnold said, changing the subject. Oskar sat up as if to answer him, but Suzie pushed him back down, giving him the squinty eyes. A new figure walked into the room, but was much younger than almost everyone else. "How about you, Gerald? Want anything?"
Gerald trailed an eye over him, inspecting him. "I'll get it myself, don't get up…"
"Oh, but that's quite alright, I'll get you some. Here, show me what you want." Arnold stressed the last sentence, and finally Gerald caught the hint.
"Oh…alright. Sure."
They walked out of the sitting room and made their way to the kitchen, neither of them saying a word. They looked everywhere but at each other, until Gerald finally opened the door into the kitchen, and walked inside. Arnold closed the door behind them.
"Arnold, they don't buy it, I don't buy it. I know you better than that." Arnold fidgeted, and slowly opened the refrigerator to look for something. Gerald sighed and leaned against the counter. "It's not good for you to act like this. You know that. That's what you'd have told anyone else, but when you finally have a problem, you can't handle it, is that it?"
Arnold stopped rummaging in the refrigerator for a moment, and then continued after a short pause. Gerald shook his head.
"You're gonna have to confront this sooner or later, and I say get it out now, before it builds up and explodes in front of everyone. You know we have two more guests to show up."
At this, Arnold shut the refrigerator and cast a quizzical eye over his friend. "Two more?"
"Well, three more, but one is already here. I don't know what's taking her, she just got here…"
"Who?" Arnold asked. Suddenly the door to the kitchen flew open.
"I think he's talking about me."
Arnold stared as Helga walked in silently, in contrast to her entrance, and leaned against the counter opposite Gerald.
"You." Arnold said, and continued rummaging through the refrigerator. Helga's shoulders slumped, and she turned to look at Gerald. He closed his eyes and sighed.
"Yeah…me."
"Why?" asked Arnold, not moving a bit to even look her in the eyes.
"Your guess is as good as mine, Football-Head." Helga said, slowly averting her gaze to the ceiling. Arnold turned to look at her, and then once again proceeded with his fruitless activity. "You're going to lose a lot of energy just keeping that door open, you know."
Arnold stood slowly, and slammed the refrigerator door shut. He stormed out of the room and slammed the kitchen door as well.
A silence hung in the air as Gerald and Helga stood alone, looking at their feet.
"Boom." Said Gerald. Helga looked at him and nodded slightly, before examining the floor tiles again. "Who was at the door?"
"Pheebs. She was hanging her coat." Helga said, just as Phoebe walked in.
"I…heard the…door slam." She said, continuing the trend of staring at the floor. She leaned on the only counter that wasn't being leaned upon, and it became silent once again.
Helga decided this was as good a time as any to examine the people in the room with her.
Gerald only used to seem tall because of his hair, but that was different now. His hair only stuck up a few inches, and actually looked quite handsome on him. He looked somewhat like his dad, she noticed, the muscles, the authoritative aura. Gerald always had a detectable soft side, however, and, like always, it was apparent in his mannerisms. He wasn't a "muscleman", or a "beefcake", but he was…attractive in a different, more sensitive sort of way. Phoebe obviously still thought so. Helga spied her staring at him as well.
Phoebe had grown into her figure quite well. Being of Asian decent, she was not as tall as some, but she made up for that in other ways. She looked fragile, like a china teacup, but also experienced and wise. Her hair was cut short around her ears, and fell loosely around her neck. In a way, she hadn't changed much visibly since Helga had seen her last, but it was the way she acted that was different. Before, she was passive and unsure of herself, but now there was an obvious difference. She held herself up like someone who had fallen many times, and picked themselves up many times as well. Her eyes, circled by her small glasses, also implied her self-assuredness, and Helga was intrigued. However, this was not the time, nor the place.
Then Helga's eyes wandered to herself. She was tall, yes, but not much had changed. She, of course, matured during the eight years since she'd moved away, and even during the few years before, but she still looked the tomboy. She wore comfortable clothes, but not very girlish clothes, and her hair was cut to chest level. But she still gave off the idea that she was not someone to be reckoned with. The pigtails were gone, and so was her ribbon…sort of. If there was one thing she never showed anyone, it was that pinned on the inner side of the inner pocket of her coat, she still kept it. Close to her heart.
The three momentarily locked eyes, and then Gerald beckoned them into the sitting room with the other guests. Arnold was sitting in his chair, and no one was saying a word. The former boarders looked up at them as they entered, but then lapsed back into thought. Helga and Phoebe exchanged a glance, and then sat down next to each other on the couch, also thinking deeply. Gerald coughed slightly, and it echoed around the room, making everyone jump.
"Well, we're only waiting for one more guest, and the lawyer who's going to read the will, and then…we'll read the will."
As soon as he finished talking, there was a knock on the door. Gerald went to see who it was, and then another door opened, revealing yet another figure.
Grandpa Phil was finally starting to lose the spring in his step. He could still bench press 100 pounds, but at 97, one tends to either be dead, or at least very decrepit. Phil was neither, but he was quickly hurtling down to the decrepit end of the spectrum. He puttered in, glanced at Helga, and chuckled. Then he sat down in a large plush chair, and stared at the ceiling, almost asleep.
"Quite the gathering, eh?" He said. Everyone glanced at him uneasily, but he was already snoring.
Suddenly, the door flew open, revealing the final figure, Gerald in tow. The figure put away his umbrella, and grumbled to himself about something, and sat down abruptly next to Helga, who was staring wide-mouthed at him. He turned to look at her, and suddenly adopted a similar expression. Helga merely said one word.
"Bob."
Sorry it's taken me so long, I was busy...I hope you like the rest of this story. Can you guess what's going on? You probably can...I didn't make it too hard. See ya!
-I. Krag
"So, er, Arnold. How've you been?"
Arnold sat in his living room. It wasn't really a living room, according to the brochure. Supposedly, it was a sitting room. There were two of these sitting rooms, and one master living room. On top of that there was a foyer, which he had no idea what it was, and continued to pronounce it fo-yur, a large bedroom, a guest room, a dining room, and even a game room. It all seemed so extremely frivolous to him, but who was he to argue? Not many houses also come with a view like his, and also…the room.
It was the room that clinched the decision. He had to have it. It was…an inspiration. Things hadn't been doing so well since he quit his old job. He had money, yes, he could retire if he wanted to, but who wanted to at 25? Besides, he had the rest of his life ahead of him.
Even though this should make him gut-burstingly happy, it was pushed aside in his brain so he could concentrate on the matters at hand. As of right now, he was far from fine.
"Fine."
The one who had spoken was Ernie Potts. Ernie was getting old, but he could still wield a wrecking ball like a pro. He started a demolition business, and got the reputation for being the most efficient one in town. As soon as he got enough money, he high-tailed it out of the boarding house and got himself a nice bit of real estate in the wealthier end of town. Never once looked back. Of course, he sent letters, but he hardly ever came to visit anyone anymore. This was a unique occasion.
"Alright." He said.
There was a pause.
"No you're not. How could you be?"
Susie. Of course. She was the only woman in the group clustered in the living room, er, sitting room. Stereotypically speaking, she would be the most sensitive and caring of the group. Realistically speaking, that was entirely true.
Susie sat with Oskar, who was busy twiddling his thumbs. The Kokoshkas had stayed at the boarding house longer than any of the other original boarders. They still fought, and even tossed cutlery, but they always stayed together. Oskar went from job to job for a while, but finally found a steady income at Potts' Wrecking Co., and needless to say, he had to swallow his pride to apply. Ernie almost had a heart attack from laughing, but gave him the job anyway, stating that if he didn't, Oskar'd probably keep leeching off of other people, and that he was doing the community a favor by hiring him. Everyone, including Oskar, knew he originally hired him for laughs, but Oskar proved he could work, and so Ernie kept him.
"No, really, I'm fine." Said Arnold in a monotone voice. No one bought it.
"Arnold, it's okay. We feel the same way."
Mr. Hyunh. Ex-country singer. Never liked fame, or he would have been a millionaire. As it was, he was still middle class. Which was admirable, in the grand scheme of things, or as far as he was concerned, great. It was as he said, he likes the simple things. Ever since he put out his first and only album, he'd been saving up, and eventually he had enough to buy a modest house in the northern part of town for him and Mai, who eventually moved out and became a teacher at PS119.
"No, but really Mr. Hyunh, I'm great. Does anyone want any refreshments?" Arnold said, changing the subject. Oskar sat up as if to answer him, but Suzie pushed him back down, giving him the squinty eyes. A new figure walked into the room, but was much younger than almost everyone else. "How about you, Gerald? Want anything?"
Gerald trailed an eye over him, inspecting him. "I'll get it myself, don't get up…"
"Oh, but that's quite alright, I'll get you some. Here, show me what you want." Arnold stressed the last sentence, and finally Gerald caught the hint.
"Oh…alright. Sure."
They walked out of the sitting room and made their way to the kitchen, neither of them saying a word. They looked everywhere but at each other, until Gerald finally opened the door into the kitchen, and walked inside. Arnold closed the door behind them.
"Arnold, they don't buy it, I don't buy it. I know you better than that." Arnold fidgeted, and slowly opened the refrigerator to look for something. Gerald sighed and leaned against the counter. "It's not good for you to act like this. You know that. That's what you'd have told anyone else, but when you finally have a problem, you can't handle it, is that it?"
Arnold stopped rummaging in the refrigerator for a moment, and then continued after a short pause. Gerald shook his head.
"You're gonna have to confront this sooner or later, and I say get it out now, before it builds up and explodes in front of everyone. You know we have two more guests to show up."
At this, Arnold shut the refrigerator and cast a quizzical eye over his friend. "Two more?"
"Well, three more, but one is already here. I don't know what's taking her, she just got here…"
"Who?" Arnold asked. Suddenly the door to the kitchen flew open.
"I think he's talking about me."
Arnold stared as Helga walked in silently, in contrast to her entrance, and leaned against the counter opposite Gerald.
"You." Arnold said, and continued rummaging through the refrigerator. Helga's shoulders slumped, and she turned to look at Gerald. He closed his eyes and sighed.
"Yeah…me."
"Why?" asked Arnold, not moving a bit to even look her in the eyes.
"Your guess is as good as mine, Football-Head." Helga said, slowly averting her gaze to the ceiling. Arnold turned to look at her, and then once again proceeded with his fruitless activity. "You're going to lose a lot of energy just keeping that door open, you know."
Arnold stood slowly, and slammed the refrigerator door shut. He stormed out of the room and slammed the kitchen door as well.
A silence hung in the air as Gerald and Helga stood alone, looking at their feet.
"Boom." Said Gerald. Helga looked at him and nodded slightly, before examining the floor tiles again. "Who was at the door?"
"Pheebs. She was hanging her coat." Helga said, just as Phoebe walked in.
"I…heard the…door slam." She said, continuing the trend of staring at the floor. She leaned on the only counter that wasn't being leaned upon, and it became silent once again.
Helga decided this was as good a time as any to examine the people in the room with her.
Gerald only used to seem tall because of his hair, but that was different now. His hair only stuck up a few inches, and actually looked quite handsome on him. He looked somewhat like his dad, she noticed, the muscles, the authoritative aura. Gerald always had a detectable soft side, however, and, like always, it was apparent in his mannerisms. He wasn't a "muscleman", or a "beefcake", but he was…attractive in a different, more sensitive sort of way. Phoebe obviously still thought so. Helga spied her staring at him as well.
Phoebe had grown into her figure quite well. Being of Asian decent, she was not as tall as some, but she made up for that in other ways. She looked fragile, like a china teacup, but also experienced and wise. Her hair was cut short around her ears, and fell loosely around her neck. In a way, she hadn't changed much visibly since Helga had seen her last, but it was the way she acted that was different. Before, she was passive and unsure of herself, but now there was an obvious difference. She held herself up like someone who had fallen many times, and picked themselves up many times as well. Her eyes, circled by her small glasses, also implied her self-assuredness, and Helga was intrigued. However, this was not the time, nor the place.
Then Helga's eyes wandered to herself. She was tall, yes, but not much had changed. She, of course, matured during the eight years since she'd moved away, and even during the few years before, but she still looked the tomboy. She wore comfortable clothes, but not very girlish clothes, and her hair was cut to chest level. But she still gave off the idea that she was not someone to be reckoned with. The pigtails were gone, and so was her ribbon…sort of. If there was one thing she never showed anyone, it was that pinned on the inner side of the inner pocket of her coat, she still kept it. Close to her heart.
The three momentarily locked eyes, and then Gerald beckoned them into the sitting room with the other guests. Arnold was sitting in his chair, and no one was saying a word. The former boarders looked up at them as they entered, but then lapsed back into thought. Helga and Phoebe exchanged a glance, and then sat down next to each other on the couch, also thinking deeply. Gerald coughed slightly, and it echoed around the room, making everyone jump.
"Well, we're only waiting for one more guest, and the lawyer who's going to read the will, and then…we'll read the will."
As soon as he finished talking, there was a knock on the door. Gerald went to see who it was, and then another door opened, revealing yet another figure.
Grandpa Phil was finally starting to lose the spring in his step. He could still bench press 100 pounds, but at 97, one tends to either be dead, or at least very decrepit. Phil was neither, but he was quickly hurtling down to the decrepit end of the spectrum. He puttered in, glanced at Helga, and chuckled. Then he sat down in a large plush chair, and stared at the ceiling, almost asleep.
"Quite the gathering, eh?" He said. Everyone glanced at him uneasily, but he was already snoring.
Suddenly, the door flew open, revealing the final figure, Gerald in tow. The figure put away his umbrella, and grumbled to himself about something, and sat down abruptly next to Helga, who was staring wide-mouthed at him. He turned to look at her, and suddenly adopted a similar expression. Helga merely said one word.
"Bob."
Sorry it's taken me so long, I was busy...I hope you like the rest of this story. Can you guess what's going on? You probably can...I didn't make it too hard. See ya!
-I. Krag