A/A*** I am so overwhelmed at the response to this story! I used to try to
name all my reviewers, but to do so would fill up an entire chapter by
itself! So once this story is completed, I promise to acknowledge all my
faithful and AWESOME readers in a seperate letter! As always, on with the
show!
Chapter 7 Helen of Troy
Helga readied herself for slumber in the usual way: shower, brush hair, brush teeth and pj's. She looked at her reflection as she finished rinsing. Her ice blue eyes almost seemed a warmer hue, closer to aqua. Her pale skin was flushed slightly from her scalding hot shower, but it gave her a healthy glow. If she didn't know any better, she'd think the girl staring back at her was actually quite pretty.
" Man, am I glad THIS day is over," she muttered to herself. If things got any stranger, she was checking into the loony bin, no doubt about it. She had considered calling Dr. Bliss numerous times throughout the day, but hesitated at the last minute every time.
She lifted her arms and slid a tank top over her head. It stuck on something near her heart, and she tugged impatiently. A thunderous clank resounded throughout the tiled blue bathroom as a result.
" What the halibut was that?" Helga wondered, somewhat puzzled by her own choice of lame profanities.
She was about to look out the window to pinpoint where the loud clanging sound came from when her toe ran into something warm and metallic.
Arnold's serene green eyes stared blankly up from the almost forgotten golden locket as it lay on the floor, a single crack in the pristine glass covering. The metal was still comfortably warm from the hot shower she had just exited.
" Arnold," Helga whispered to herself, scooping up the trinket lovingly. " How could I have forgotten about you all day long?"
Almost as though answering herself, the day's events raced through her fragile mind: Arnold, hiding behind trash cans, Arnold, spouting insults and sarcastic remarks at the mere sight of her, Arnold, looking out at her forlornly from the front window at Slausen's...
"Wait a cotton pickin' minute, where did that come from?" Helga scratched her head. She didn't recall seeing Arnold at Slausen's earlier. Was she just imagining that desperate picture of him in her head, his face pressed up against the glass, wide-eyed and melancholy?
" Naw, I know she didn't see me," Arnold mumbled to himself as he signed off his computer for the night. " She looked right through me. Does that mean that I normally treat her that way?
There was a light knock on the door. " What do you want?" Arnold barked, ready to knock out Mr. Kokoshka if he asked one more time for his leftover dinner in the fridge.
" It's me, Shortman. I was wondering if your ol' grandpa could have a word with you," Grandpa's voice filled the hallway.
" I guess so, bucko. It's your dime," Arnold opened the door hesitantly.
" Well, how was Slausens? Didn't eat any raspberry sorbet did you? My father only gave me two good words of advice, and one was.."
"..Never eat raspberries, I know. Is that all you wanted, to express your unnatural concern for my colon's well being?" Arnold shot, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
" Uh, no Shortman, that's not it at all. That's called small talk, if you haven't heard of it before. I was coming up here to see what's going on with you today,"
" What do you mean, what's going on with me? Just because everyone was drilling me about Helga, and then NO ONE could get her name right. I was just fed up tonight, okay?"
" Well I understand. Maybe we WERE all teasing you a little, but that's how we always are, Arnold. And you have to admit, normally you have no problem with what any one calls your littl- I mean, Helga," Grandpa placed a tentative hand on his shoulder as he sat down on the edge of his bed.
Arnold sighed heavily. " I know, Grandpa. Things are just...different today," he paused momentarily. " I don't like it when people treat her like she doesn't exist,"
" But isn't that pretty much the way you've always treated her too, shortman?"
" No! I always think about her! How she's feeling, what she's doing, what she's going through-" his words trailed off at the irony of his statement. " I care about her more than I thought,"
" It's about time you realized that," Grandpa chuckled, a warm smile spreading over his weathered face.
" You mean.."
" Yup. It's always been obvious to me, why do you think I told you about the little girl who always tormented me as a boy? Because I could relate, that's why!" The old man laughed yet again.
" Gertie? But that girl was AWFUL! Mean, crude, always teasing you...hey, isn't Grandma's first name-"
" One in the same," Grandpa replied dryly.
" I don't know why I never put that together before," Arnold murmured, the sudden connection painfully obvious now.
" Didn't surprise me a bit, actually, kiddo. You've got my good looks, but your Grandma's denseness I'm afraid," Grandpa stood up, stretching his bent frame momentarily.
" Dense? I guess I never really thought about that, either,"
" Well that point is moot today, that's for sure," Grandpa replied, scratching his chin.
" I guess I've been kind of a jerk. I can't really explain it, but I'm going through this kind of, shall we say, revelation, for lack of better terms." Arnold shook his head apologetically.
" That's all right, Arnold. You're still my very favorite grandson,"
" I'm your ONLY grandson," Arnold shot sarcastically, but a smile played on his lips.
" That's more like it," Grandpa laughed, punching him playfully in the shoulder. "We'll talk tomorrow. Good night," he replied as he shut the door with a soft click.
" Good night," Arnold whispered, his head swirling with revelations he'd never dare acknowledge before.
Helga lay in bed, unable to rid herself of the image of Arnold's pale, distraught face gazing out the window at her. She couldn't have imagined it, she was sure of that now. She just didn't realize it at the time.
" How could I be so insensitive? He looked so sad," Helga's voice was low and thoughtful. She couldn't place the unfamiliar feeling that was drowning her soul. Could it be..remorse?
" I have to call him," she spoke calmly. " If I at least make sure he's okay, then I can finally get some sleep,"
She reached for her phone groggily, dialing the number swiftly. " At least I haven't forgotten his number," she mused.
The phone rang loud and shrill, jolting Arnold from the light sleep he had let himself succumb to only moments before.
He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the caller ID before picking up. He nearly dropped the phone when his bleary eyes finally made out the words: PATAKI, B.B.
" Sunset Arms, Phil speaking," Arnold lied quickly, practicing his flawless imitation of his Grandpa.
" Oh, I'm sorry. Is Arnold there?" Helga gulped nervously.
" Arnold? I'm afraid the shortman's already in bed for the evening," Arnold held his breath in anticipation. Why was Helga calling him so late? Could it be that she felt badly for ignoring him half the day? He waited with bated breath for her next reply.
"Oh. I was hoping to catch him," her voice trailed off hesitantly.
" Well, would you like to leave him a message, young lady?" Arnold practically giggled at calling her a young LADY, but kept his composure.
" Uh...that's okay. Just tell him Hel-"
"Helen of Troy called? I can do that," Grandma's voice interuppted from the downstairs phone line.
Arnold dropped the phone as though it were forged from molten lead. Crap, he thought he had picked up the phone before anyone downstairs had a chance.
" Is that you, Pookie? I need some more toilet paper for the water closet," Arnold spoke up, thrusting the phone to his ear once more. If he could just throw her off, he could get her off the line.
" Phil? I thought you went out to get ice cream! What's going on?" Grandma demanded in a hostile voice.
ICE CREAM. The words resounded through Helga's subconscience, jolting some sort of lost memory. Why did that word initiate such anxiousness and need for privacy?
" I..I have to go," she stammered nervously to the bickering couple on the other ends of the line. " And it's Helga, Grandma. Tell him HELGA called," she clicked the phone off without waiting for a reply.
" Eleanor's such a nice girl," Grandma commented, hanging up her end as well.
" HER...NAME...IS... HELGA!!!!!!!!" Arnold screeched into the dead reciever, a car alarm blaring in response in the distance.
He pulled the covers up over his oblong head. " Only ten more hours of this, if it's only a 24 hour type of curse," he muttered, gritting his teeth. He relaxed moments later, as the thought that Helga had called him sank in.
Pulling out his makeshift locket and a penlight, he gazed into her empty blue eyes, the darkness enveloping them. " Tomorrow, my love. Tomorrow I return to poor, dense Arnold, and you, to harsh and aloof Helga." He kissed her image quickly and shoved it back under his night- shirt.
" I just hope I remember what I've put you through, and never repeat it again," he whispered, sleep finally overtaking him once more.
@@@@Okay, kind of a transitional chapter. The 24 hours will be up at 8 am, during the bus ride to school! Many shenanigans and funny plot twists to be expected! Thanks, and hope everyone isn't too disappointed by this one!
Chapter 7 Helen of Troy
Helga readied herself for slumber in the usual way: shower, brush hair, brush teeth and pj's. She looked at her reflection as she finished rinsing. Her ice blue eyes almost seemed a warmer hue, closer to aqua. Her pale skin was flushed slightly from her scalding hot shower, but it gave her a healthy glow. If she didn't know any better, she'd think the girl staring back at her was actually quite pretty.
" Man, am I glad THIS day is over," she muttered to herself. If things got any stranger, she was checking into the loony bin, no doubt about it. She had considered calling Dr. Bliss numerous times throughout the day, but hesitated at the last minute every time.
She lifted her arms and slid a tank top over her head. It stuck on something near her heart, and she tugged impatiently. A thunderous clank resounded throughout the tiled blue bathroom as a result.
" What the halibut was that?" Helga wondered, somewhat puzzled by her own choice of lame profanities.
She was about to look out the window to pinpoint where the loud clanging sound came from when her toe ran into something warm and metallic.
Arnold's serene green eyes stared blankly up from the almost forgotten golden locket as it lay on the floor, a single crack in the pristine glass covering. The metal was still comfortably warm from the hot shower she had just exited.
" Arnold," Helga whispered to herself, scooping up the trinket lovingly. " How could I have forgotten about you all day long?"
Almost as though answering herself, the day's events raced through her fragile mind: Arnold, hiding behind trash cans, Arnold, spouting insults and sarcastic remarks at the mere sight of her, Arnold, looking out at her forlornly from the front window at Slausen's...
"Wait a cotton pickin' minute, where did that come from?" Helga scratched her head. She didn't recall seeing Arnold at Slausen's earlier. Was she just imagining that desperate picture of him in her head, his face pressed up against the glass, wide-eyed and melancholy?
" Naw, I know she didn't see me," Arnold mumbled to himself as he signed off his computer for the night. " She looked right through me. Does that mean that I normally treat her that way?
There was a light knock on the door. " What do you want?" Arnold barked, ready to knock out Mr. Kokoshka if he asked one more time for his leftover dinner in the fridge.
" It's me, Shortman. I was wondering if your ol' grandpa could have a word with you," Grandpa's voice filled the hallway.
" I guess so, bucko. It's your dime," Arnold opened the door hesitantly.
" Well, how was Slausens? Didn't eat any raspberry sorbet did you? My father only gave me two good words of advice, and one was.."
"..Never eat raspberries, I know. Is that all you wanted, to express your unnatural concern for my colon's well being?" Arnold shot, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
" Uh, no Shortman, that's not it at all. That's called small talk, if you haven't heard of it before. I was coming up here to see what's going on with you today,"
" What do you mean, what's going on with me? Just because everyone was drilling me about Helga, and then NO ONE could get her name right. I was just fed up tonight, okay?"
" Well I understand. Maybe we WERE all teasing you a little, but that's how we always are, Arnold. And you have to admit, normally you have no problem with what any one calls your littl- I mean, Helga," Grandpa placed a tentative hand on his shoulder as he sat down on the edge of his bed.
Arnold sighed heavily. " I know, Grandpa. Things are just...different today," he paused momentarily. " I don't like it when people treat her like she doesn't exist,"
" But isn't that pretty much the way you've always treated her too, shortman?"
" No! I always think about her! How she's feeling, what she's doing, what she's going through-" his words trailed off at the irony of his statement. " I care about her more than I thought,"
" It's about time you realized that," Grandpa chuckled, a warm smile spreading over his weathered face.
" You mean.."
" Yup. It's always been obvious to me, why do you think I told you about the little girl who always tormented me as a boy? Because I could relate, that's why!" The old man laughed yet again.
" Gertie? But that girl was AWFUL! Mean, crude, always teasing you...hey, isn't Grandma's first name-"
" One in the same," Grandpa replied dryly.
" I don't know why I never put that together before," Arnold murmured, the sudden connection painfully obvious now.
" Didn't surprise me a bit, actually, kiddo. You've got my good looks, but your Grandma's denseness I'm afraid," Grandpa stood up, stretching his bent frame momentarily.
" Dense? I guess I never really thought about that, either,"
" Well that point is moot today, that's for sure," Grandpa replied, scratching his chin.
" I guess I've been kind of a jerk. I can't really explain it, but I'm going through this kind of, shall we say, revelation, for lack of better terms." Arnold shook his head apologetically.
" That's all right, Arnold. You're still my very favorite grandson,"
" I'm your ONLY grandson," Arnold shot sarcastically, but a smile played on his lips.
" That's more like it," Grandpa laughed, punching him playfully in the shoulder. "We'll talk tomorrow. Good night," he replied as he shut the door with a soft click.
" Good night," Arnold whispered, his head swirling with revelations he'd never dare acknowledge before.
Helga lay in bed, unable to rid herself of the image of Arnold's pale, distraught face gazing out the window at her. She couldn't have imagined it, she was sure of that now. She just didn't realize it at the time.
" How could I be so insensitive? He looked so sad," Helga's voice was low and thoughtful. She couldn't place the unfamiliar feeling that was drowning her soul. Could it be..remorse?
" I have to call him," she spoke calmly. " If I at least make sure he's okay, then I can finally get some sleep,"
She reached for her phone groggily, dialing the number swiftly. " At least I haven't forgotten his number," she mused.
The phone rang loud and shrill, jolting Arnold from the light sleep he had let himself succumb to only moments before.
He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the caller ID before picking up. He nearly dropped the phone when his bleary eyes finally made out the words: PATAKI, B.B.
" Sunset Arms, Phil speaking," Arnold lied quickly, practicing his flawless imitation of his Grandpa.
" Oh, I'm sorry. Is Arnold there?" Helga gulped nervously.
" Arnold? I'm afraid the shortman's already in bed for the evening," Arnold held his breath in anticipation. Why was Helga calling him so late? Could it be that she felt badly for ignoring him half the day? He waited with bated breath for her next reply.
"Oh. I was hoping to catch him," her voice trailed off hesitantly.
" Well, would you like to leave him a message, young lady?" Arnold practically giggled at calling her a young LADY, but kept his composure.
" Uh...that's okay. Just tell him Hel-"
"Helen of Troy called? I can do that," Grandma's voice interuppted from the downstairs phone line.
Arnold dropped the phone as though it were forged from molten lead. Crap, he thought he had picked up the phone before anyone downstairs had a chance.
" Is that you, Pookie? I need some more toilet paper for the water closet," Arnold spoke up, thrusting the phone to his ear once more. If he could just throw her off, he could get her off the line.
" Phil? I thought you went out to get ice cream! What's going on?" Grandma demanded in a hostile voice.
ICE CREAM. The words resounded through Helga's subconscience, jolting some sort of lost memory. Why did that word initiate such anxiousness and need for privacy?
" I..I have to go," she stammered nervously to the bickering couple on the other ends of the line. " And it's Helga, Grandma. Tell him HELGA called," she clicked the phone off without waiting for a reply.
" Eleanor's such a nice girl," Grandma commented, hanging up her end as well.
" HER...NAME...IS... HELGA!!!!!!!!" Arnold screeched into the dead reciever, a car alarm blaring in response in the distance.
He pulled the covers up over his oblong head. " Only ten more hours of this, if it's only a 24 hour type of curse," he muttered, gritting his teeth. He relaxed moments later, as the thought that Helga had called him sank in.
Pulling out his makeshift locket and a penlight, he gazed into her empty blue eyes, the darkness enveloping them. " Tomorrow, my love. Tomorrow I return to poor, dense Arnold, and you, to harsh and aloof Helga." He kissed her image quickly and shoved it back under his night- shirt.
" I just hope I remember what I've put you through, and never repeat it again," he whispered, sleep finally overtaking him once more.
@@@@Okay, kind of a transitional chapter. The 24 hours will be up at 8 am, during the bus ride to school! Many shenanigans and funny plot twists to be expected! Thanks, and hope everyone isn't too disappointed by this one!