While You Were Gone
"Why should I?" A small boy with chocolate smeared over most of his face stood against four very mean looking bullies.
"Because we said so. Right boys?" The other three stood cracking their knuckles or smacking their fists into their hands.
Chocolate Boy glanced uneasily from thug to thug. Although a few years older, age did not do much for his scrawny frame. He'd already told these morons he didn't have any money, but being well known had its disadvantages. They all knew of his love of chocolate and asked for it as a substitute payment. He growled at the very thought of giving up his precious chocolate, but he didn't want an express ticket to the intensive care ward either. So he did the only thing he could; he ran.
The bad news is that it had rained yesterday and the streets were still soggy. His sneakers slapped roughly against the wet payment. Every once in a while he'd step in a puddle and his shoes would make a sick squishing sound. Either way he wasn't hard to follow. The thugs were closing in on him, snapping like dogs at the heels of their prey. Despite his wet and soggy shoes it looked as though he might get away. Then he tripped.
Somewhere in the mud and the muck his shoelaces had come untied. He groaned and rolled over only to face the four ugly mugs of his pursuers. Sometime during the chase it started raining again. They looked like dogs more than ever now with their soaked clothes clinging to them, wind-ruffled hair pointing in every direction, and tongues lolling with fatigue. Their leader even as he spoke was panting.
"Alright kid, *pant* you've had *pant* your fun. Now it's time for a whole new dimension of pain." Chocolate boy cringed down and waited for it, but it never came. He looked up to see them staring at the shadows ahead.
"Not if I have anything to say about it." One of the shadows spoke. It revealed itself to be a person in the alley. Nothing odd about them, blue jeans, casual shirt, however a baseball cap kept their face shrouded from view. "Leave him alone or face my wrath." The voice was definitely feminine.
"Hey guys, check out Tinkerbell over here. She thinks she can fight us." They all started laughing.
The girl, however, remained impassive. "Hey kid, get out of here. Let the grown-ups play for a while." Although she kept her eyes trained on the thugs her last comment was directed towards Chocolate Boy. At first he just sat there. She looked down at him, "Now!" With a quick nod he was off. "Okay, now to deal with you punks."
By now they had stopped laughing. "Okay dollface, you want to play with us? Watch out, we boys like to play rough."
"So do I," she replied. And with that the first of the four charged at her, fist ready... only to have her sidestep his attack, effectively slamming his fist into the wall behind her. From the cracking sounds she judged he had about three broken knuckles and would no longer be a threat in this fight. The second one grabbed her wrist, but she got a hold on his, twisted it around behind his back, and used her knee to shove him face-first into the wall. He'd be out cold for a while. The third guy wasn't so dumb. He approached from behind and caught her in a bear-hug. Instead of struggling she relaxed and took a deep breath. Then she dug the heels of her shoes into his feet and used her head to hit him in the jaw. He immediately released her. When she turned around he was coughing up blood and spitting something out. It looked like part of his tongue.
Looking around she only saw three bodies. Apparently during the fight their leader turned chicken. He didn't have far to run though, three of the four exits in that particular area were dead ends and he found himself in one of them.
"Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide." Somehow she managed to track him to the end of the urban maze. This time she didn't even wait for him to attack first. She ran at him and swept his legs out from under him. Then she put her foot on his chest and leaned down so close that her face showed from under the bill of her hat. What he saw rendered him speechless. The girl laughed at his expression, "Hello to you too, Wolfgang."
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"I don't know, Gerald. What if it's not her?" A football-headed youth gave the impression of being rather excited, or scared, or maybe both.
"Come on, Arnold. It has to be her, you saw the poster. Besides, Phoebe's coming to the show." The African-American athlete was practically dragging him towards the café where the infamous "Cecil" was supposed to be preforming that night. "Here we are, the Bellé Luna Café."
"Bellé Luna?"
"Yeah, it's French. I think Phoebe said it means 'beautiful moon'. Anyway let's just go in and get us some seats." He made a move towards the door, but Arnold stopped him.
"Look there." Written in large red letters across the poster featuring tonight's show were the words: "Postponed due to inadequate staffing." Translation: Their lead musician, Cecil, was a no-show.
"Man, what a waste of time and a walk." Just as Gerald turned around he tripped over something. Oops, better make that someone.
"Gerald, you stepped on Chocolate Boy." Arnold helped the poor chocoholic to his feet. "Hey kid, you okay?" His eyes were darting around as if he expected someone to jump out at any second and he was several shades paler than anyone should ever be. He looked like he had seen a ghost.
"I saw a ghost!" Okaaayy...
"A ghost? You're kiddn' right?" Even "Gerald the Tale Keeper" was skeptical. "You didn't hit you head did you?"
"No! She was there! And the thugs, and the chase, with the running, and the splashing, then the tripping..."
'Okay he's stopped making sense.' "Hey kid, you're rambling," said Arnold, but Chocolate Boy didn't stop. "Slow down, I..." He still kept going. "SHUT UP ALREADY!" Did Arnold just yell? Oh well, at least he shut up. "Okay now start from the beginning and tell us everything."
And thus Chocolate Boy began his tale. He got to the part where he was cornered, "And then..." and stopped.
"What's the matter? Keep going, it's just getting good." Gerald seemed to be on the edge of his seat.
"Well, then she showed up." A look of awe was spread across his face.
"The ghost?" He only managed to nod, not trusting his voice. "How do you know she's a ghost?"
"Well, she stepped out of nowhere in a dead-end alley, she was really pale, and she had an air of cool calmness and raw icy power. But that's not the real reason that I knew." Arnold and Gerald waited expectantly. "After she told me to run, when she looked down at me, I saw her face."
"And?"
Chocolate Boy looked up at them with a look that clearly showed that moment had been the most terrifying in his entire life. "It was Helga."
A/N: Dun, dun, dun! Haha! Bow to the queen of cliffhangers! Whatcha think? Wonder why he'd think Helga's a ghost? Why is Wolfgang so scared of her? Why am I even asking you when you obviously have no idea? Find out nest time on While You Were Gone.