Oh, did I forget to mention that all men are bastards? It's true, it really
is. They're all bastards in their own little ways. They may not be bastards
to you in particular, but trust me, there is a woman out there saying "all
men are bastards" and referring to your father, boyfriend, son, etc.
Okay, NOW I'll go.
---But seriously though!
Okay, going, going, gone!
Chapter 6
It may have been easy for Helga to fall asleep, but Arnold experienced a great deal of difficulty. He could not believe what had just happened, what she had just said. She must have been just mumbling; she must have been too drunk to understand what she was saying. She must have been! How else could one account for what was happening, for her saying the three words after a decade of parting?
Arnold looked around for something, some sort of clue, some sort of assurance, something, but in his attempt he was unsuccessful. Helga was a mystery in his environment, and he could not believe that this mystery, this thrill of nervousness and confusion, could function as such a powerful aphrodisiac.
All the while, as his blood boiled and his lips surged, he felt extraordinarily angry. He also felt afraid, nervous, as if she had just glued herself to him, and to dispose of her would mean to ruin his tailored suit. I love you; no one should have been stupid enough to say these words. Did she not understand that he was meant to be a free bird? That he did not appreciate her show of affection? What the hell was the matter with her, with this little bitch that thought she could reenter his life and start rearranging things?
Love must have been unstoppable, and he didn't need someone to feel this for him. It was in Arnold's own experience the way of events in life, that once a woman fell into it with a man, once she had admitted it to herself and to him, she automatically felt as if she owned him. Well, Arnold didn't need to have Helga feel this way. Helga could never get the false message. After all, Arnold loved Lila, and he didn't need the woman that he hated to interfere with his affairs of the heart.
It would have been much easier for him to put her in jail, to dispose of her behind bars, but if this happened, the case would be prolonged with numerous appeals and he would not be rid of her affliction. All the while, she would continue to love him, pardoning his misdemeanor as just being a professional approach. This was not the way out. He had to get her back lethally. He had to make her suffer; he had to take away from her the things most important for a woman, a woman like Helga, that is. He decided on his course of action. Arnold would not go to court, instead, he would face her with a last minute appeal that would ultimately bankrupt BBB, and one he'd done this, reject her and break her heart so that she would go back to New York hating him. It was not the most logic of approaches, but it seemed to be the most sensible and beneficial way out.
But until he rejected her, until he made her sign the papers, (for there was still chance that she would wish to go to court) he had to lead her on. He had to make her believe that there was still chance for them, that she was still possibly his first love. He fell asleep with a sense of gratification that he had decided on a plan.
Arnold specifically set his alarm clock so as to wake up before Helga did. The last thing that he wanted was for her to get up early and leave before he had the chance to speak with her about the previous night.
This did not work. Arnold got up in the morning and quickly rushed out of bed. After getting dressed, he raced to his guestroom. She was no longer there.
Helga closed her eyes, touching her forehead and groaning as the hangover ate away at her subconscious. She did not remember anything that had happened the previous night, particularly why she found herself in an unfamiliar apartment, showered with pictures of Arnold with models. She assumed this was his home, but that realization did not explain much. How had she gotten there, and worse yet, what had she done?
Helga never did have the cure for hangovers and at the precise moment, she had a peculiar wish to kill herself for a few hours and then come back to life once again. This, of course, was impossible, so she decided to stay alive. Water, this she knew. Throwing up, another pleasant aspect. Of course, she felt gratification that it was Sunday, and she promised herself never to drink again. At the time, however, the pounding in Helga's head was not the only thing bothering her. Arnold, what had happened with Arnold?
Suddenly, she heard a knock on her hotel room door, and she wanted to scream. With utmost difficulty, Helga made her way to the door, and once she had opened it, she began wishing that she hadn't.
There he stood, wearing a strange _expression on his face, studying her as if she had overnight turned into a different person.
"What do you want?" she asked charismatically.
"What do you mean what do I want?"
"Exactly what I just said. Why are you here?"
"I'm here," he said, "because I want to know the truth, without all of your little games."
"My little games?" she stared at him in bewilderment.
"Look," he pushed himself in, "you don't do what you did last night and then go out and never expect me to speak to you again."
She studied him with fear that raged like a mad beast within her bosom, "what did I do last night?"
"That act of drunkenness, and then wanting to go to my home, and saying- what you said."
"What had I said?" She asked.
Arnold realized that Helga remembered nothing about the previous night. He did not know what to feel, relief or disappointment.
"It doesn't matter, not anymore," he said softly.
"Arnold, it matters to me," her hands began shaking, "what did I say to you last night?"
He came into her comfort zone, their bodies almost tangible to one another, and Helga felt a kick in the pit of her stomach, which she never had experienced with other men. She was unsure what to make of it, of the dreadful silence, of his transfixing gaze that ate away at her heart. She felt lightheaded from the scent of his perfume, and her body suddenly became strong and unaffected, all signs of a hangover suddenly ceased.
Arnold felt in control, he knew well how to seduce women, and Helga seemed to fall for it without question. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her locked cascaded up and down in combination with her chest. It felt good to have to make an effort again, to take her in his arms, instead of having to catch her as she cascaded there herself.
Helga looked up, and without a thought, Arnold's lips went over hers. After adjusting to the surprise, Helga suddenly felt herself responding to his kiss, as her mouth drowned in his, as she fed him the sweetness of her tongue. Arnold could not believe how much he was enjoying this, her, wrapped in his arms, holding on in a tight grip and never letting go. He was excited by their momentary dislocation, as both parties gaped for breath quickly and then immediately returned to the previous action.
Helga suddenly began moving forward, and Arnold quickly followed until he found his back pressed against a wall, as Helga spread her palms across it, encasing him in her bars of flesh, and going down the skin of his neck. Arnold's hands began traveling down to her skirt, as they picked it up and slid down her panties. Meanwhile, Helga had undone his belt buckle, exposing a very aroused organ of the male physique. He felt his masculinity arise from within, as he picked her up by the butt and let her wrap her long legs around his thighs. After doing so, Arnold spun Helga around and violently pressed her frame to the same wall, inserting himself roughly as she gasped, half in pain and half pleasurably, at the long forgotten feeling that raged deep inside.
He began to roam, rubbing her skin against the concrete, throwing his head up, pulling it to her level once more and taking her lips into his mouth. Meanwhile, her legs pressed harder against the muscular thighs, as she held onto him with an unspeakable fear that this was unreal. And so it went, harder, faster, harder, softer, speeding up, harder, faster, even faster, harder, oh yes! The pair had climaxed simultaneously.
They slid down the wall and Helga, once touching ground, put her head upon Arnold's shoulder and closed her eyes. This was followed by a giggle, as he took in her warmth, as he inhaled the scent of her hair. Arnold knew he had to leave, but even this raunchy lovemaking done without even getting properly unclothed and situating on a bed bound his soul to Helga unconditionally.
He did not want to acknowledge it. What was happening to him? The room was filled with unspoken panting and silence beyond that. Arnold did not want to leave her, alone on the floor, and he feared this realization.
Quickly and awkwardly, Arnold got up and rearranged himself and his disheveled clothing. Helga watched him from the floor as he reached into the suitcase he was carrying and handed her a folder.
"I thought I might as well get it out of the way," he said in a matter-of- fact way.
"What is it?" she said, studying its contents.
"It's a settlement," he said, "a last minute settlement I think you may be interested in."
Helga quickly jumped up and, now in a horizontal position, studied the documents more vigorously, "Settlement my ass!"
"What are you talking about?" he said.
"You think I'm stupid, Arnold?" she screamed, a look of disgust on her face, "This shit basically signs my company under the name of your firm."
"You're lucky you're being offered a settlement at all," he said angrily.
"Oh spare me that, please!" she began losing her temper, the old Helga emerging once again from underneath the covers of the temporary wasp.
"Helga," he said, approaching her as she turned her back, "You should understand this. I'm only doing my job, this shouldn't interfere with-"
"I'm a little confused, Arnold, isn't a settlement supposed to be beneficial or at least neutral to both sides of the conflict? Why do I only see your name here?"
"Because, Helga!" he said, "I've already won. This is your best way out. If we go to court, if we present all of our evidence, you'll lose more than just your baby."
"Arnold, what's the point of going to court if you've already mapped out for me an outcome? A gruesome, disrespectful outcome, for that matter."
He sighed, "Helga, I don't want you to go to jail."
She studied him in disbelief, "Why do you care?"
He had to find a reason, "I care because I love you, and I want to marry you once the case is settled." This was a lie, he neither loved nor wished to marry her. Nevertheless, Arnold was determined to manipulate her into following his way.
Helga was stumped, deep within, she knew she still loved Arnold. This was a prospect for her, this was a possibility to have her most eternal, most magical dream come true. With this proposition, he had proved that he had loved her back, that he had forgiven her, that he was choosing her above all others. How could she refuse? Simultaneously, how could she choose between her life's work and her live's passion?
Helga had loved Arnold since the beginning of time, and only now did she understand that for the past eleven years, her love for him was not terminated but dormant. Now, it began to ravish once again, to open up its petals and to grown new and fascinating roots. Eleven years ago, she felt the simplistic fancy of a girl, now, she recognized the passionate love of a woman. Love was more important to her than money, and whatever life had taught her before was suddenly erased from her memories. Her mistakes were no longer mistakes, but coincidences, and his actions were no longer bad deeds, but accidents. Helga had decided to reinvent herself, and she would do this in the light of Arnold.
"I'll need to speak to my lawyer," she said stiffly, "But I think I can say with utmost certainty that the answer would be yes."
She smiled and the warmth of her radiance made Arnold's body quiver, he could still not believe the power that this woman held over him.
Helga walked toward Arnold and kissed him quickly on the lips. He found himself tearing away with nervousness and reluctance.
"I'm going to go now," he said.
"Okay," she paused, "wait a moment, I'll be right back."
She quickly skidded to her bedroom and came back out again.
"Here," she said, handing Arnold her business card, "you can always reach me at my office. I don't like the stupid hotel phone anyway."
Arnold studied the card, and then Helga's face, but did not take it.
"I'll lose it," he said softly, "why don't you just call me?"
She smiled, "Okay then," and then her face switched expressions and he realized how beautifully lit it was, despite the longing that had settled upon her shining eyes.
Arnold took her chin in his hands and kissed her softly on the mouth. Their faces remained close to one another for a moment, until he abruptly pulled away.
"I'll go now," he mumbled with pain and quickly let himself out the front door.
Helga suddenly felt excitement gushing through her mind. This was amazing, she was getting married. Of course, in the process, she was going to lose the only representation of her youth's existence. Nevertheless, she was gaining something far more important than that. Happiness suddenly surged through Helga and she felt a strange need to share her good graces with another being. Without rush, she rushed to the phone and dialed a number.
"Hello?" a still and proper feminine voice answered on the other side of the line.
"Phoebes," she said softly, "it's Helga."
A few blocks away, Arnold found himself battling against the autumn winds, as they surged at him with great speed. The trees in the alleys were turning yellow, and the sky was dark and somber. People who bypassed him were dressed in fall attire. Arnold began to mourn the coldness, his body began to shiver. After summer so easily transgressed into fall, he felt absolutely obligated to mourn it, the warmth, the long days, the fiery nights, all those wonderful moments that never seemed to matter until now, all those wonderful moments that he had left behind. Many summers had passed by in Arnold's life, but this particular one he brought dearer to himself than any others. He noticed this particular one, and he could not help but wonder if this aberration was related to her reappearance.
"Helga G Pataki," he whispered ruefully, "what have you done to me?"
Okay, NOW I'll go.
---But seriously though!
Okay, going, going, gone!
Chapter 6
It may have been easy for Helga to fall asleep, but Arnold experienced a great deal of difficulty. He could not believe what had just happened, what she had just said. She must have been just mumbling; she must have been too drunk to understand what she was saying. She must have been! How else could one account for what was happening, for her saying the three words after a decade of parting?
Arnold looked around for something, some sort of clue, some sort of assurance, something, but in his attempt he was unsuccessful. Helga was a mystery in his environment, and he could not believe that this mystery, this thrill of nervousness and confusion, could function as such a powerful aphrodisiac.
All the while, as his blood boiled and his lips surged, he felt extraordinarily angry. He also felt afraid, nervous, as if she had just glued herself to him, and to dispose of her would mean to ruin his tailored suit. I love you; no one should have been stupid enough to say these words. Did she not understand that he was meant to be a free bird? That he did not appreciate her show of affection? What the hell was the matter with her, with this little bitch that thought she could reenter his life and start rearranging things?
Love must have been unstoppable, and he didn't need someone to feel this for him. It was in Arnold's own experience the way of events in life, that once a woman fell into it with a man, once she had admitted it to herself and to him, she automatically felt as if she owned him. Well, Arnold didn't need to have Helga feel this way. Helga could never get the false message. After all, Arnold loved Lila, and he didn't need the woman that he hated to interfere with his affairs of the heart.
It would have been much easier for him to put her in jail, to dispose of her behind bars, but if this happened, the case would be prolonged with numerous appeals and he would not be rid of her affliction. All the while, she would continue to love him, pardoning his misdemeanor as just being a professional approach. This was not the way out. He had to get her back lethally. He had to make her suffer; he had to take away from her the things most important for a woman, a woman like Helga, that is. He decided on his course of action. Arnold would not go to court, instead, he would face her with a last minute appeal that would ultimately bankrupt BBB, and one he'd done this, reject her and break her heart so that she would go back to New York hating him. It was not the most logic of approaches, but it seemed to be the most sensible and beneficial way out.
But until he rejected her, until he made her sign the papers, (for there was still chance that she would wish to go to court) he had to lead her on. He had to make her believe that there was still chance for them, that she was still possibly his first love. He fell asleep with a sense of gratification that he had decided on a plan.
Arnold specifically set his alarm clock so as to wake up before Helga did. The last thing that he wanted was for her to get up early and leave before he had the chance to speak with her about the previous night.
This did not work. Arnold got up in the morning and quickly rushed out of bed. After getting dressed, he raced to his guestroom. She was no longer there.
Helga closed her eyes, touching her forehead and groaning as the hangover ate away at her subconscious. She did not remember anything that had happened the previous night, particularly why she found herself in an unfamiliar apartment, showered with pictures of Arnold with models. She assumed this was his home, but that realization did not explain much. How had she gotten there, and worse yet, what had she done?
Helga never did have the cure for hangovers and at the precise moment, she had a peculiar wish to kill herself for a few hours and then come back to life once again. This, of course, was impossible, so she decided to stay alive. Water, this she knew. Throwing up, another pleasant aspect. Of course, she felt gratification that it was Sunday, and she promised herself never to drink again. At the time, however, the pounding in Helga's head was not the only thing bothering her. Arnold, what had happened with Arnold?
Suddenly, she heard a knock on her hotel room door, and she wanted to scream. With utmost difficulty, Helga made her way to the door, and once she had opened it, she began wishing that she hadn't.
There he stood, wearing a strange _expression on his face, studying her as if she had overnight turned into a different person.
"What do you want?" she asked charismatically.
"What do you mean what do I want?"
"Exactly what I just said. Why are you here?"
"I'm here," he said, "because I want to know the truth, without all of your little games."
"My little games?" she stared at him in bewilderment.
"Look," he pushed himself in, "you don't do what you did last night and then go out and never expect me to speak to you again."
She studied him with fear that raged like a mad beast within her bosom, "what did I do last night?"
"That act of drunkenness, and then wanting to go to my home, and saying- what you said."
"What had I said?" She asked.
Arnold realized that Helga remembered nothing about the previous night. He did not know what to feel, relief or disappointment.
"It doesn't matter, not anymore," he said softly.
"Arnold, it matters to me," her hands began shaking, "what did I say to you last night?"
He came into her comfort zone, their bodies almost tangible to one another, and Helga felt a kick in the pit of her stomach, which she never had experienced with other men. She was unsure what to make of it, of the dreadful silence, of his transfixing gaze that ate away at her heart. She felt lightheaded from the scent of his perfume, and her body suddenly became strong and unaffected, all signs of a hangover suddenly ceased.
Arnold felt in control, he knew well how to seduce women, and Helga seemed to fall for it without question. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her locked cascaded up and down in combination with her chest. It felt good to have to make an effort again, to take her in his arms, instead of having to catch her as she cascaded there herself.
Helga looked up, and without a thought, Arnold's lips went over hers. After adjusting to the surprise, Helga suddenly felt herself responding to his kiss, as her mouth drowned in his, as she fed him the sweetness of her tongue. Arnold could not believe how much he was enjoying this, her, wrapped in his arms, holding on in a tight grip and never letting go. He was excited by their momentary dislocation, as both parties gaped for breath quickly and then immediately returned to the previous action.
Helga suddenly began moving forward, and Arnold quickly followed until he found his back pressed against a wall, as Helga spread her palms across it, encasing him in her bars of flesh, and going down the skin of his neck. Arnold's hands began traveling down to her skirt, as they picked it up and slid down her panties. Meanwhile, Helga had undone his belt buckle, exposing a very aroused organ of the male physique. He felt his masculinity arise from within, as he picked her up by the butt and let her wrap her long legs around his thighs. After doing so, Arnold spun Helga around and violently pressed her frame to the same wall, inserting himself roughly as she gasped, half in pain and half pleasurably, at the long forgotten feeling that raged deep inside.
He began to roam, rubbing her skin against the concrete, throwing his head up, pulling it to her level once more and taking her lips into his mouth. Meanwhile, her legs pressed harder against the muscular thighs, as she held onto him with an unspeakable fear that this was unreal. And so it went, harder, faster, harder, softer, speeding up, harder, faster, even faster, harder, oh yes! The pair had climaxed simultaneously.
They slid down the wall and Helga, once touching ground, put her head upon Arnold's shoulder and closed her eyes. This was followed by a giggle, as he took in her warmth, as he inhaled the scent of her hair. Arnold knew he had to leave, but even this raunchy lovemaking done without even getting properly unclothed and situating on a bed bound his soul to Helga unconditionally.
He did not want to acknowledge it. What was happening to him? The room was filled with unspoken panting and silence beyond that. Arnold did not want to leave her, alone on the floor, and he feared this realization.
Quickly and awkwardly, Arnold got up and rearranged himself and his disheveled clothing. Helga watched him from the floor as he reached into the suitcase he was carrying and handed her a folder.
"I thought I might as well get it out of the way," he said in a matter-of- fact way.
"What is it?" she said, studying its contents.
"It's a settlement," he said, "a last minute settlement I think you may be interested in."
Helga quickly jumped up and, now in a horizontal position, studied the documents more vigorously, "Settlement my ass!"
"What are you talking about?" he said.
"You think I'm stupid, Arnold?" she screamed, a look of disgust on her face, "This shit basically signs my company under the name of your firm."
"You're lucky you're being offered a settlement at all," he said angrily.
"Oh spare me that, please!" she began losing her temper, the old Helga emerging once again from underneath the covers of the temporary wasp.
"Helga," he said, approaching her as she turned her back, "You should understand this. I'm only doing my job, this shouldn't interfere with-"
"I'm a little confused, Arnold, isn't a settlement supposed to be beneficial or at least neutral to both sides of the conflict? Why do I only see your name here?"
"Because, Helga!" he said, "I've already won. This is your best way out. If we go to court, if we present all of our evidence, you'll lose more than just your baby."
"Arnold, what's the point of going to court if you've already mapped out for me an outcome? A gruesome, disrespectful outcome, for that matter."
He sighed, "Helga, I don't want you to go to jail."
She studied him in disbelief, "Why do you care?"
He had to find a reason, "I care because I love you, and I want to marry you once the case is settled." This was a lie, he neither loved nor wished to marry her. Nevertheless, Arnold was determined to manipulate her into following his way.
Helga was stumped, deep within, she knew she still loved Arnold. This was a prospect for her, this was a possibility to have her most eternal, most magical dream come true. With this proposition, he had proved that he had loved her back, that he had forgiven her, that he was choosing her above all others. How could she refuse? Simultaneously, how could she choose between her life's work and her live's passion?
Helga had loved Arnold since the beginning of time, and only now did she understand that for the past eleven years, her love for him was not terminated but dormant. Now, it began to ravish once again, to open up its petals and to grown new and fascinating roots. Eleven years ago, she felt the simplistic fancy of a girl, now, she recognized the passionate love of a woman. Love was more important to her than money, and whatever life had taught her before was suddenly erased from her memories. Her mistakes were no longer mistakes, but coincidences, and his actions were no longer bad deeds, but accidents. Helga had decided to reinvent herself, and she would do this in the light of Arnold.
"I'll need to speak to my lawyer," she said stiffly, "But I think I can say with utmost certainty that the answer would be yes."
She smiled and the warmth of her radiance made Arnold's body quiver, he could still not believe the power that this woman held over him.
Helga walked toward Arnold and kissed him quickly on the lips. He found himself tearing away with nervousness and reluctance.
"I'm going to go now," he said.
"Okay," she paused, "wait a moment, I'll be right back."
She quickly skidded to her bedroom and came back out again.
"Here," she said, handing Arnold her business card, "you can always reach me at my office. I don't like the stupid hotel phone anyway."
Arnold studied the card, and then Helga's face, but did not take it.
"I'll lose it," he said softly, "why don't you just call me?"
She smiled, "Okay then," and then her face switched expressions and he realized how beautifully lit it was, despite the longing that had settled upon her shining eyes.
Arnold took her chin in his hands and kissed her softly on the mouth. Their faces remained close to one another for a moment, until he abruptly pulled away.
"I'll go now," he mumbled with pain and quickly let himself out the front door.
Helga suddenly felt excitement gushing through her mind. This was amazing, she was getting married. Of course, in the process, she was going to lose the only representation of her youth's existence. Nevertheless, she was gaining something far more important than that. Happiness suddenly surged through Helga and she felt a strange need to share her good graces with another being. Without rush, she rushed to the phone and dialed a number.
"Hello?" a still and proper feminine voice answered on the other side of the line.
"Phoebes," she said softly, "it's Helga."
A few blocks away, Arnold found himself battling against the autumn winds, as they surged at him with great speed. The trees in the alleys were turning yellow, and the sky was dark and somber. People who bypassed him were dressed in fall attire. Arnold began to mourn the coldness, his body began to shiver. After summer so easily transgressed into fall, he felt absolutely obligated to mourn it, the warmth, the long days, the fiery nights, all those wonderful moments that never seemed to matter until now, all those wonderful moments that he had left behind. Many summers had passed by in Arnold's life, but this particular one he brought dearer to himself than any others. He noticed this particular one, and he could not help but wonder if this aberration was related to her reappearance.
"Helga G Pataki," he whispered ruefully, "what have you done to me?"