~AIN'T THAT A KICK IN THE HEAD?~



Part 12:





Arnold turned back around to face the screen. His legs were complaining--tired of being dangled in the air so long--so he shifted sideways and stretched out along the branch, leaning up against the tree trunk. Not bad. A light breeze blew through the leaves overhead and sent a chill down his spine. He snuggled deeper into his thick sweater, quickly getting very comfortable. That, along with the warm, happy feeling still in his stomach from so much laughing, began to make him a little sleepy. Not bad at all. He yawned.....no, no--that wouldn't do. Helga would be back soon, and it would be rude if he were asleep when she returned.

He suppressed a second yawn and forced his eyelids open. Funny how he was suddenly bored, sitting there alone. Maybe if he concentrated on the movie.







(--"...because I knew you'd feel the same way. And then, I wouldn't have to be afraid anymore," said the woman. It was hard to make out either of the actors' faces--one stood in shadow, the other with her back to the camera.

--"And just what makes you think that day is today?" asked the man, a hint of irritation in his voice.

--The gorgeous brunette turned around slowly. "Let's call it...hope?" She smiled anxiously, )







...and Arnold caught something. Hm, he thought. She looks a little--wait, make that...a LOT, like...Helga? I never noticed that before.







(-- She sighed when there was no response from the shadows. "I understand," she said, sadly. "I guess I should have expected this, considering how I've treated you." Then the dark-haired man stepped into the light, )







...and as he did so, Arnold couldn't help noticing the unusual shape of the actor's head. Sort of--oblong? A little like a taco.







(--"Helen, wait." He took her by the arm, pulling her close. "I never said you were WRONG. Maybe...just maybe, that day IS today.")







Or more precisely--a little like a football. He didn't remember seeing that before, either. Although, he also hadn't watched the movie in a long while...







(--"Even after everything that's happened?"

--"Fahgedaboudit. It's in the past." He paused. "Yer' right...I DO love you."

--"Oh, Andrew..." said the woman-who-looked-a-lot-like-Helga, embracing him. "...But...what will everyone say? What will they think?"

--"Who cares?" said the taco/football-headed man. He pulled her closer, and they kissed.)







And Arnold sat bolt upright, blinking his eyes furiously and pinching himself awake.

The hallucination, or whatever you would call it, dissolved into thin air, and the people on the screen were back to their normal selves. No longer did they seem to resemble himself and...(gulp)...someone else.



Okay....okay! Take it easy, Arnold, he told himself. It's your stupid imagination, that's all. He shook his head, trying desperately to shrug off the image still floating in his mind.

You've seen this dumb movie too many times, and so you just had a weird little daydream about it. It...DIDN"T...ACTUALLY...HAPPEN......and it doesn't mean a thing.



Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned against the tree trunk again. But the nagging feeling wouldn't go away.



(So...why imagine THAT, and why does it still bother you?)



"Ughhhh..." Arnold groaned, rubbing the back of his neck and slouching over. He rested his elbows on his knees as he tried to piece together his jumbled thoughts.



Let's see...he began.

Maybe...it all starts when you're a kid, with this diabolical little bully who torments you and hates you for no good reason, and spends nearly every waking moment trying to make your very existence as miserable as possible...

(But somehow, you can't ever seem to hate her for it, maybe because you've seen how other people have treated her all her life and you know deep down she's just afraid to be herself--and you kind of understand why she acts the way she does...)

Even though that's no excuse for her behavior. At any rate, you TOLERATE it, every single time, hoping someday things will work out and she won't be so horrible to everybody and will finally leave you alone. Then, out of the blue, you find out she doesn't hate you at all.

She LOVES you.

At least that's what she says.....And you really don't want to believe it, but the more you think about it, the more you know it's true--as true of a love as an emotionally unstable, slightly neurotic nine-year-old can feel, anyway. And then you don't know WHAT to think anymore, because all of a sudden, your safe little world has stopped making sense...

(But that's not so bad, since one day you move off, and you never expect to be back or to see her again long enough for it to matter whether or not you ever asked yourself: "What if?')

'What if'? 'What if'....what?

...Yet...you DO see her again after what seems like another lifetime has passed, and discover that somewhere along the line she finally became what she was hiding all along: an interesting, possibly--amazing person who isn't so afraid of herself anymore. And you're--y'know--HAPPY for her. You get to see her the way she is, deep down, and it's nice being around her...now that she doesn't try to bite your head off every time you speak. Even though it's been such a short time, you really like this gradual getting to know each other...actually becoming friends...

(And the more you get to know her, the more you'll enjoy being near her; and the more you enjoy being near her, the more you'll begin to miss her when you're apart...)

And you aren't exactly sure why, or HOW you feel about that--but you do know it feels...right. And that it's as if she's been there all along, somewhere, waiting in the back of your mind.

Waiting for YOU.

And you obviously can't help thinking about her...



Something clicked inside, and Arnold's eyes opened wide with a sudden thought.





EEP!





Slowly, he slid off the branch, running his fingers nervously through his hair. "I--I should go find her...I think..." he said to himself quietly. What now? This...yes, this probably changed a few things, didn't it?



I guess Gerald was right.

Does that mean I owe him five bucks?



He walked away from the tree, away from the crowd, in the direction she had gone--all the while searching for that familiar pink and yellow. Although unsure of what he would say--even of what he truly felt--his instinct told him something ought to be said. Finally...



There she is.

He stopped.

But--who's that with her?