I DO NOT OWN HEY ARNOLD!!! DON'T SUE ME!!! (I don't have any money anyway so you wouldn't get much out of it if you did)
Return To Innocence
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"This is the kitchen, the bathroom's over there. It's kind of dirty right now, because I haven't had the time to clean it." Charlie points out as we walk through his dust and grime laden kitchen. He stops as we walk into the living room. The sun, trying hard to penetrate the royal blue curtains, sends small rays of light into the room. Its source? The small breaks between the ripped and worn-out curtains, themselves. It's the kind of light where you can see the particles of dust caught in the its path. It looks amazing to me, but I feel terrible when my eyes adjust to room's low amount of over all light. The house is in such disarray. I almost feel like saying no to the project all together until we can organize and clean this home.
If it can be called that…
Charlie looks slightly back to Helga and I and points down the shadowed hall. "You guys aren't allowed there. My dad's room is over there and he would get really mad if people came snooping around." Helga nods. I'm not sure, but I think I can hear her teeth chattering. Is she really that scared?
"I see. So, where's your room?" I ask, stepping in front of Helga. Was that me trying to play her protector?
"Upstairs." he states and turns to walk toward the carpeted staircase.
"Are we allowed back in the kitchen? You know, if we're hungry or something." Helga asks, following closely behind Charlie and I.
"Sure. You can if you want. I mean, Dad comes out to get stuff once in a while, but he usually doesn't stay long. Did I mention he doesn't like company?" he repeats, stopping as we reach the staircase. I look at the carpeting and see that it is hasn't been cleaned or vacuumed anytime soon. The stains are huge and dark, but forgotten and left to be stepped on and pushed deeper into the fabric. It's ugly and so very disgusting. The carpeting, beige in color, is ripped and ill-cut to fit where the ground stops and the stairs begin. Charlie looks up at us slightly and motions for us to go ahead of him. Helga pushes gently for me to go ahead of her, so I do so. I step on each step, slowly and individually, as if death awaits me at the top. It's funny how pathetically scared I am, but I can't help it. My surrounding look anything but friendly and inviting, so naturally it adds to my anxiety.
Step by step….
One step at a time…
We reach the top and Charlie eagerly steps in front of me. He walks to his door and waits for us to approach him. There's a bathroom adjacent to his room, but this one looks amazingly clean. Tidy. The tile isn't incrusted with dirt and grime, unlike the kitchen downstairs, and the walls look completely free of dust. Charlie's door, unlike the few I've seen in his house so far, is clean. The paint isn't chipped in the least and looks like a fresh coat of paint has just been applied. "Now, I must warn you, my room isn't very clean. I didn't expect you all to be coming over today, really. Helga reminded me of it this morning." he still faces his door as he speaks. Slowly, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open slightly. Charlie steps in and gentlemanly motions for Helga to follow him. Of course, Helga huffs first, then accepts his proposal.
His room.
Not dirty in the least.
This guy must me a perfectionist… or have a slight complex about cleanliness, I decide, as I follow Helga over to his bed. She and I both sit down, making the bed sink in so that naturally we'd be pulled closer together. Gravity, it must be. She scoots over some, leaving more room between us. Charlie looks at us for a moment, staring deeply at us… searching for something under the surface.
"Um, shall… we… get started?" I smile nervously, ear to ear.
"Of course." he stands and walks over to his backpack. He doesn't dig through an untidy backpack as Helga does, no… his bag is clean. There are no loose papers among his books, and the books themselves are in fine condition. His face is still emotionless. It makes me wonder what could be going through his mind. I suddenly remember my encounter with Charlie's dad and feel the need inquire.
"So, Charlie, what exactly is wrong with your father?" he stops searching his book bag and stays on his knees. He stares blankly in front of him. I was out of line, wasn't I? I want to take it back… take it back! "Oh, but, if you don't want to talk about it… that's fine,"
"No." he says. No, what?
"Heh, heh, was that a 'no, I don't want to talk about it,' or 'no, I do want to talk about it'?" I ask further. Helga looks at me with a frown. Her expression is hard to tell… she's either telling me to stop asking him, or she's saying she doesn't want to know. With Helga, either answer is acceptable.
"No, I don't want to talk about it." he says in his familiar, emotionless tone.
"Oh… ok. Did I upset you, because if I-"
"Just stop, ok? You came to do a project, and that's all we're going to discuss, alright?" he looks directly at me, the first time since he greeted Helga and I at the door. Now it's my turn to frown.
"Hey, look, you asked ME to do this project! The least you can do is be nice to me." Helga looks at me again… this expression I can tell. Anger. Heh, she displays that expression quite a lot.
"Fine. Sorry." he says, flatly. I'm… confused. Was that sarcasm?
"I mean, why don't I just leave?" I go on further; somebody stop me, please, "It's not like this is going to be a good working environment, anyway. Plus this is YOUR grade, not mine. I don't have to do this, you know." I stand up.
"Arnold?" he uses my name for the first time.
"What?" I harshly throw at him. I fold my arms.
"Just sit down, please?" he begins to look through his backpack again. That's it?
"So, Charlie… what kind of music you listen to?" Helga cuts in, glaring at me while Charlie's back is turned. Anything to change the subject… I'm happy.
He sighs, "Can we just talk about the project now?" he asks, turning to face her. Whoa, and I thought he was just being mean to ME… no wonder people don't like to talk to him. As mean as this may sound, I can actually understand why people ignore him. Not quite Mr. Personality, is he?
Ok, so on to the project…
The thing is, Helga and Charlie and in an AP English class. To put it simply, the advanced class. I always knew Helga would succeed in that department. She has such a talent for capturing emotion with her writing. It's no wonder she's in a class like that. Charlie on the other hand… well, lets just say I doubt he has the kind of talent Helga does… considering his own lack of emotion.
The three of us sit in a triangle on the floor next to his bed. …not exactly an equal triangle, seeing as though Helga and I are sitting closer together and seem to form an 'alliance', with Charlie sitting awkwardly in front of us. The carpeting in his room is much different than the rest of the house… or should I say, the parts that I've seen. It's soft. It's green in color and, unlike the carpeting downstairs, has no stains whatsoever. It's so comfortable to sit on; almost like sitting on a comforter.
"I think I should be in charge of getting the poster and props. I mean, I can draw fairly good." Helga begins, arrogantly pointing at herself. Charlie nods. He looks intensely at her and I suddenly feel uncomfortable.
"Uh, so Charlie, what are you going to do?" I ask. He thinks about it.
"The research." he states.
"Ok, Helga's doing the drawing, you're doing the research… what is left for me to do?" I ask, almost incredulously, and frown.
"You can present." Helga offers.
"In YOUR class?"
"Why not?"
"All alone?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think so." I fold my arms. Why am I being hostile all of a sudden?
"Come on. Charlie here's practically a mute when it comes to these things, and I'm sure as hell not going to present alone up there." Helga challenges, crossing her arms.
"So you think I can?" she nods.
"Why not? I mean it would be the easiest part of the project."
"Why am I even doing this? I keep saying to myself that if it helps your grade I'm ok… but that doesn't cut it. I mean, come on, you want me to present? Why? I don't think you give Charlie enough credit. He talks!"
"Yeah, right. One-on-one, he talks, but-"
"See! You keep acting like he's a child and can't even talk for himself!" I point to her, propping myself up on my knees.
"So what!?" she gets on her knees as well, "He can't present, football head, and that's the end of it!" she slams her fists down on the soft carpet.
"Yes, he can!" I cry, frustrated with her ignorance.
"NO HE CAN'T!" she yells, louder than I.
"YES… HE… CAN!!!" I scream, leaning closer to her, hatred plastered all over my face. Deep creases are appearing between by brows, I can feel it.
"Enough!" Charlie yells. Helga and I look towards him, surprised at his sudden outburst. He showing any kind of emotion would startle us, but shouting? "I'm not a kid, and I'm not a mute." he says, returning slightly to his normal tone.
"I didn't say you were." I say, quietly. I look over at Helga. She glances at me then quickly turns and focuses her attention on his wall. She smiles, suddenly.
"You like art?" she stands up and approaches a poster on his wall. I follow her with my eyes as she moves. Indeed, the picture is very well drawn.
"Yes." he looks at her as well, "You like it?"
"Yeah," she replies, distracted.
"You can have it."
"What?" Helga and I both say, confused, looking at him.
"You can't be serious," I speak first, "That's… that's just too… beautiful… to give away."
"Hey, hey, was he talking to YOU, football head?" Helga places her hands on her hips and glares at me.
"It's not worth much." Charlie says, flipping through some papers laying out in front of him.
"How can you say that? Why" I question, standing up.
"I drew it, that's why. I can tell the value of my own work." he states, rubbing his eyes. He looks tired… or frustrated.
"Obviously not, buddy," Helga says. she sighs and looks back at the artwork. She seems to distracted to even realize what she's saying as she says, "There's no way I'm taking this. Sorry, it's just too…" she gestures toward the drawing, "beautiful…" she finishes in a whisper.
"That's why I want you to have it."
"Me?"
"Anyone."
"Oh thanks." Helga rolls her eyes, "But why give away something so valuable?"
"The greater the value, the greater the pleasure in giving it." he says, looking at her. I watch the two exchange glances. Helga looks uncomfortable under his gaze… I can't say I don't blame her.
"Charlie?" I cut in. I feel somehow like her protector today… I feel as though I must play 'big brother' to her...
"What?" he looks at me, eyes half-lidded. He must be tired.
I don't even have anything to say, I realize. I only wanted to keep his eyes away from Helga. I feel strangely proud of myself and confused at the same time. "I… oh, I um…" I search his pale blue eyes for something to say, something that will get me out of this awkward silence, "it's late, I think I ought to be getting home."
"We've only been here for an hour!" Helga protests, and steps forward. Her expression is that of a deer caught in headlights. It makes me want to laugh, but I, instead, nod sympathetically at her. I don't want to be here anymore. It's too much… too much Charlie. I look over at him and see he's still thumbing through papers. He doesn't seem to realize I'm even here. It's as if he's forgotten that is was HE who asked me to join the project. I frown. I don't understand this boy. He's… he's…
…not right…
"I'll… be… seeing you." I say to him. He nods slightly, too engrossed in his paperwork to look at me. I look over at Helga who's giving me the 'I can't believe you're doing this' look. I smile and walk over to her, placing my hand on her shoulder. She looks at my hand then at me. Question fills her eyes and I feel suddenly self-conscious. I tense and pull my hand away, letting it fall to my side. "I'll be seeing you too," I smile again.
"Yeah, whatever," she turns away from me, arms folded across her chest. I tilt my head a little to try to see her expression, but I'm unable to. I then turn and walk to Charlie's bedroom door. I glance back at Helga and he one more time before finally leaving the scene. I can't say I'm not happy to be leaving.
As I trudge downstairs I catch a glimpse of Charlie's dad leaving the kitchen. He's fat, unshaven, and greasy. The question of 'when was the last time this man showered', passes through my mind. He looks at me, not trying in the least to smile or say hello. He stares as if I'm an alien species, and it makes my skin crawl. I want to run away.
"Hi, I'm Charlie's friend," I start. A friend of Charlie's? Should I go as far as to say that? I walk down the rest of the stairs and walk towards him in the living room. He stands, almost in the hallway, motionless.
He says nothing and, instead, opts to walk away from me. I'm afraid to say anything further as I watch him walk down the shadowed hall… the hall steeped in so much mystery. I hear a door slam and take it as a sign to get the hell out of here… this house is very creepy…
Very creepy indeed…
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Heh, I got this chapter done a little faster this time. I would have made this part of chapter 5, but decided that it deserved to be a chapter on it's own. Hope you like it, hehe! And tell me what you think! ;D