Chapter 13
In Which Grandpa Explains Himself, and Gerald and Helga Leave the Country
"Shortman, there's been an accident."
Arnold panicked. "What kind of accident? Is everyone alright? Is Grandma ok? Where is she? Can I see her? Is she in the hospital?"
"Whoa, slow down Arnold. Grandma's fine. It's that stra—well I suppose I shouldn't speak ill of the…I mean, it's your cousin. Your cousin's had an accident."
Arnold stared at him. "You mean Arnie?"
"That's right. I just got off the phone with the hospital. There was some kind of malfunction in some of those high tech farming doohickeys and he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He's in intensive care, but it didn't sound like he's gonna make it, Shortman."
Arnold couldn't think. He just stood there and tried to come to terms with this. Grandpa continued talking.
"I wanted to talk to that sweet little wife of his, but the nurse said she was close to hysterics and they had to give her a sedative. She's sleeping it off right now. They got a neighbor friend over taking care of the kid. I told the nurse to keep us posted, so if I were you I'd stick around here for a while."
Arnie's dying. Arnold stared into space. He's the same age as me, and he's dying. For no reason. He couldn't stop the next thought from coming, but he was ashamed to think it even so. If Arnie dies, Lila will be free.
"Arnold?" Grandpa prompted gently. Arnold jerked slightly and focused on Grandpa's face.
"I'm ok."
"Let's go inside. We don't know yet. Miracles can happen."
Not for me. "Yeah, you're right Grandpa." He went into the boarding house, trying to banish thoughts of Arnie or Lila from his mind.
*************
Gerald emerged from the dressing room feeling like a new man. He strode to the three-sided mirror and posed. Nothing like a new suit to make me feel better, he thought happily.
This particular suit was designed to be lightweight, perfect, as the salesman had told him, for the jungles of Brazil. Gerald was inclined to agree. He put on some shades for effect and smiled at his reflection.
He had also bought a kaki shorts outfit, despite Helga saying it made him look like the Crocodile Hunter. But he did pass on the pith helmet. He stretched and looked at his watch.
"Hey Helga, you almost done in there?"
Helga had bought a light white blouse with pink embroidery on the edges and some kaki pants, and was now trying on an outfit Gerald had picked out.
"Gerald, there is no way in hell I am going to wear this thing."
"Oh come on, it can't be that bad. Come out and let me see."
"No."
"Helga, we don't have much time. Just come out."
"Not going to happen, Geraldo."
Gerald rolled his eyes. "It can't be worse than the leather, right?" Gerald's first suggestion had been a tight black leather outfit complete with mini-skirt. Helga had refused to even try it on.
"I still can't believe you thought that would be appropriate jungle wear."
"Hey, they do it in the movies. Come on Helga, let me see how it looks."
There was a sigh, a shuffle, and then Helga emerged from the dressing room.
The outfit she was wearing now was still black, but made from a much cooler cotton blend. It was…well, a bit tight. Fortunately she had the figure to pull it off, and as Gerald surveyed her he grinned without thinking. "Here, try it with shades." He threw his pair at her, and she caught them and slipped them on. Perfect.
Helga folded her arms and scowled at him. Ok, maybe not so perfect.
"Gerald, look at this."
"Trust me, I'm looking."
"Not like that," she growled, "This isn't me, come on now."
"Fine. I found a few other things you could try while you were in there." He gestured towards a chair where he had put some more outfits.
Helga stared at the pile. "You know, I have never met a straight man as obsessed with clothes as you are. I hate shopping."
"Then just buy the one you're wearing."
"It's not even pink. And it's too tight," she informed him.
"Exactly why I like it." He added quickly, "You wouldn't want loose clothing catching on branches and things anyway."
"Your suit is a lot looser than this."
"I bought a few tighter things too. Man Helga," he turned back to the mirror and adjusted his collar, "Just accept the fact that you look great in that outfit and buy it. You never have to wear it again after this, I promise."
Helga mumbled something about a sexist society and returned to the dressing room, but Gerald noticed that when they checked out, the black outfit was among her choices. She saw him looking at it and frowned.
"It just reminds me of a dream I had once, that's all."
"Whatever you say Helga." Gerald hid a smile and picked up their bags. They headed out to a taxi.
*********
The flight to Brazil took longer than Gerald had imagined, and he couldn't wait to get off the plane when it finally landed in the early hours of the morning. Stretching his legs and moaning, he watched with envy as Helga walked out of the gate with no trouble at all.
"How can you walk? I can barely feel my legs."
"I've done longer flights than this before. The trick is to keep your feet elevated so your blood doesn't pool."
"More information than I needed," Gerald grumbled and half-limped alongside Helga.
"So how are we supposed to recognize this person anyway?" Helga wondered as she scanned the crowds of people surrounding the baggage claim. "She gonna carry a red carnation in a copy of Anna Karenina or something?"
"I'm not sure." Gerald sat on a nearby bench and rubbed his shin, trying to get the feeling to come back. "Mr. Smith didn't say anything about that. I guess she'll recognize us."
"Should we hold up a sign with our respective acronyms on it?" Helga laughed and pulled the last of their luggage off the belt. "Amazing, they didn't lose anything. Last time I went to Paris I had to live out of my handbag for a week."
Gerald shuddered at the thought, then yelped slightly as his leg started getting that pins and needles feeling. Least I feel something.
Helga stood by their luggage and looked around. Every kind of person you could imagine was in the airport. Most of them were speaking Brazil's unique brand of Portuguese, but she heard a few other languages sprinkled into the mix, including English, Spanish, and once even Japanese, which she assumed was coming from a businessman somewhere. After a minute of people-watching, she gave up and sat down. No way was she going to find their contact in this, especially since she didn't know what she looked like.
Gerald soon regained feeling totally in his legs, and after walking around the bench a few times he pronounced himself healed. He sat back down and let out a huge sigh.
"Ok, she can show up anytime now. I'm hungry. And tired. I don't understand why they even bother giving you a pillow on the plane, it's impossible to sleep in those chairs."
"Are you Gerald Johansson?" came an unexpected voice beside him.
Gerald turned to see a forty-ish woman with short brown hair looking at him questioningly. She held a photo of him in her hand, and he saw that Mr. Smith had printed his name at the bottom of it.
"Yeah, that's me."
The woman's face lighted up in a smile immediately. "I'm so glad to meet you. I'm your contact here. Welcome to Brazil!" She shook his hand warmly and turned to Helga. "And you are? I'm afraid Mr. Smith didn't tell me your name, just that Gerald was traveling with a female companion."
"I'm Helga. Helga Pataki." Helga held out her hand but eyed the woman carefully as she did so.
The smile on the woman's face suddenly seemed a bit frozen to Gerald. But she shook Helga's hand and continued talking.
"Ah. Well, I hope both of you enjoy your stay here very much. Brazil's a beautiful country."
"We're not exactly here for a sight-seeing tour," Helga replied. To Gerald's ears it sounded a bit snappish.
"Of course not," the woman answered Helga but kept her eyes on Gerald. "Well, let's get you settled, shall we? I'm sure you're tired after your trip. Both of you." she added almost as an afterthought.
They gathered up their luggage and left the airport. While their contact went in search of a taxi, Gerald whispered to Helga, "What was that about?"
Helga looked confused. "I'm not sure. There's something not right about that woman. She gives me the shivers. Is there any way we can check her out?"
"Not 'til we're back in the States and in the clear. Don't forget why we came here."
"I know. I just wish I knew what was going on here."
"Well for right now, she's our only link with whoever's trying to kill us. Try to get along with her, and if it's an issue we'll deal with it after all this is over. I mean who knows, maybe she doesn't like blondes, or she has an old enemy named Helga or something."
"I'll try," Helga watched as their contact hailed a cab and beckoned them over, "But I'm not making any promises, Tall Hair Boy."
A/N: Short chapter this time, I needed to set things up for next time. Don't forget, since I pay for service now you can add me to your Author Alert list and you'll get an email whenever I add a chapter. Ah, technology…
Sennical: You're right, we are getting close to the prologue. There are at least two stories after this one, and then if I haven't driven everyone crazy by then there's one more that's a possibility. I'm already working on the next one, and in all honesty I think it'll be better than this one. This one is my least favorite in the series, lol.
Maxine: Deep breaths! In…out…in…out… ;)
Dropsof Jupiter: You also can now breathe. :) Lol, didn't mean to give anyone a heart attack there! I'm afraid that FGWK is not anyone you know. He may possibly be related to someone, but that's a very minor issue. I just needed someone fun to write as a tech. And I hadn't even thought about Harold there, but I totally agree about Sheck, lol. And just remember that I never said Gerald and Helga would fall in love. Not that I said they wouldn't. :)
Miss Matched: Hopefully this chapter was less confusing! Did you figure it out ok? If not, feel free to email me any questions, I always answer emails. ::enjoys her mini-m&ms::
Jacquleine Schaeffer: Again I say, breathe… :) (I was going to wait another chapter to talk about the accident, but decided that would kill too many people, lol)
TaDah: ::throws TaDah a rope:: There you go! ::sniffs the air:: Wait a sec… ::tastes rope, then grins:: Black licorice! Yum! ::chomps on rope happily:: (Yeah don't ask…)
pokey: Poor Arnold…actually, it gets worse. Arnold is in for a bit of a rough time.
pogo: I'm wondering how it will turn out also, grin. Well I have a basic outline, but really the characters have already done some very unexpected things…