***Well another chapter come and gone. As always, thanks so much for all
the love and encouragement! This has been a really enjoyable fic to write,
but even more enjoyable thanks to all the positive feedback and critiques.
That said, on with the show.
Chapter 9 Come Undone
Helga gripped the sides of her head in agony. Just moments before, she'd been having a light and interesting conversation with Phoebe, then WHAM- instant migraine.
" Here you go, Helga. I'm ever so sure this should help you with your headache," Lila purred in a soothing voice, dispensing two small, yellow tablets into her outstretched hand.
Helga tossed them in her mouth, slugged down a huge gulp of the abandoned coffee, and sighed.
" Is that better?" Lila asked, her green eyes filled with a kind of concern, intermingled with raw fear.
" Oh gee, Lila. You're right, aspirin is EVER SO frickin' effective the moment you ingest it! SHEESH, of course I'm not better yet, Ms. Perfect," Helga growled in disgust, her eyes closing in pain as she finished her sentence.
Lila stalked back to her seat, her face twisted in sort of a grimace, but she kept her eyes focused on her green patent leather shoes.
Arnold winced slightly at her biting words, knowing in an instant that something significant had just taken place...he was just unsure now of what. " Why do I feel so weird, like there's something I'm supposed to be remembering?" he whispered to himself.
" Man, Phoebe, I feel like I just got hit by an ice cream truck," Helga moaned, her eyes only half open in her agony. " What's been going on? I feel like I'm a step behind or something,"
" You...don't recall the events of the last 24 hours, Helga?" Phoebe's eyes filled with concern.
" Naw, I'm just putting you on. OF COURSE I don't know what's been going on, other than I have the mother of all migraines! Look, if you have some idea of why I'm here, without any recollection of the past day, with a throbbing headache, then for Pete sake, SPILL IT!"
" Why are you so quiet, Gerald?" Arnold ignored the moaning and muttering in the seat ahead of him, noticing for the first time since he got on the bus that his best friend had been completely silent the whole ride.
" Me? Oh, no reason," Gerald answered, his voice edgy. " I'm surprised you're speaking to me in a decent tone of voice at all, frankly," Gerald turned his eyes once more towards the game pal in his hands, pushing the buttons a little too fiercely with his thumbs.
" What do you mean, decent tone of voice? When have I ever been rude to you before, other than our fight over running Mrs. Vitello's, that is." Arnold looked broken hearted at his friend's aloofness.
" Oh, maybe the past 24 hours, for example," Gerald muttered under his breath, averting his eyes purposely.
" What 24 hours? What day is this?" Arnold scratched his head, feeling very bewildered at the scenes unfolding before him.
" Look man, I don't know what's been up with you, but you seen to be back to normal now, and that's all that matters, I suppose." Gerald shut off his game, shoving it in his backpack as the school bus rolled to a clumsy stop
" Just forget all about it, okay? Truce," Gerald held out his hand tentatively.
Arnold did his special handshake with his friend, and a smile spread across Gerald's once somber face. " C'mon, we better get to class before Bubba takes the good seats,"
"I really think we need to talk privately," Phoebe lamented as an ill- tempered Helga exited the bus. " I think I can help fill you in on the past day's events," She gripped her notebook in confirmation.
" Sure thing, just let me give the drugs time to kick in, Hyerdahl," Helga whined uncharacteristically. " I haven't had a migraine like this since Olga graduated valedictorian from Wellington College,"
" Take your time, but I have pertinent information. It's quite earth shattering, too, so please, don't make any snap judgements or comments until we go over the contents of my notebook, PLEASE," Phoebe's voice wavered helplessly.
" Whatever, Dr. Freud. I just want to make it through chem with my cerebellum in tact," Helga moaned, although with somewhat less intensity.
The lunch bell rang a long, loud peal throughout the halls of P.S. 118 as a stampede of young people made their ways through the corridors. Helga waited impatiently for Phoebe at their usual table, her stomach growling fiercely.
" There you are," Arnold gasped as he sat down, having run the entire length of the school to catch up with Gerald in the cafeteria. Sweat trickled down his face as he leaned against the table, sucking in his breath hungrily.
" Where's the fire, buddy?" Gerald dug his lunch money out of his pockets and led him towards the lunch line. " It's meatloaf day. I don't think I'd be in any sort of rush to eat this stuff," Gerald laughed good-naturedly, happy to have his best friend back to normal.
" No fire, I was running from Devin," Arnold grabbed a painful stitch in his side, his breath returning. "You know, that foreign exchange student from France? He's really mad at me about something," His eyes darted around the room anxiously.
" The French kid? Ha! It's no wonder, you took him out like 3 times yesterday," Gerald chuckled, grabbing a chocolate milk from the cooler.
" Took him where?" Arnold held his own tray as mashed potatoes, broccoli, and meatloaf smothered in questionable looking gravy were mounded on his plate.
" To the clinic. You knocked him over twice, I THINK by accident, and oh yeah, shoved him once too,"
" By accident?" Arnold gulped, swiping a tapioca pudding from the dessert tray.
" Nope, NOT by accident," Gerald answered smugly.
"Okay Pheebs, what's all the drama about?" Helga's head lay atop her lunch box, a bendy straw stuck in the side of her mouth as she slurped ice cold chocolate milk through it. She pushed a strand of pale blonde hair behind her ear. " I didn't even have time to put my hair back today," she grumbled.
" Well, first of all, don't panic," Phoebe's own lunch of a watercress sandwich, carrot sticks and thermos of steaming chicken broth was laid out symmetrically in front of her. She took a sip of her iced green tea before speaking again.
" What I'm about to tell you may come as a complete shock,"
" Get on with it, I'm starvin' here," Helga muttered, draining the milk with one long sip.
" Why don't you unpack your meal then?" Phoebe suggested, becoming highly agitated at her friend's non -chalantness.
" Uh, news flash Pheebs, I think the last time Miriam packed me a lunch, she was on the wagon, and I don't mean the band wagon," Helga answered grimly, painfully acknowledging her mother's alcoholism.
" Open your lunch box, Helga" Phoebe repeated quietly.
" Ugh, WHY? Are you out of shaving cream or something? There's nothing in there but some random household items, perhaps some oregano and fish food? What's it to you?" Helga's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
" Just open it, please," Phoebe pleaded, her own eyes wide with concern.
Helga grunted, but complied.
Seconds later, the lunch box clattered to the floor, its contents spilling out haphazardly in the process.
" She packed my lunch," Helga whispered, her face going a ghostly white.
Phoebe gathered up the apple, packet of cookies, turkey sandwich on wheat and celery sticks and dip that had flown onto the tiled floor just moments before.
" Precisely," Phoebe responded evenly.
" So she's.."
" In rehab again," Phoebe finished the sentence hesitantly.
" But how?" Helga wore a painfully confused expression.
" Let's start with the bus ride to school," Phoebe began, cracking the notebook open as her friend leaned over the rows upon rows of her neat, precise handwriting, chomping on the apple absent-mindedly.
" And I've been acting like a complete loon for the past 24 hours? Huh, I wonder what's up with that," Arnold sighed, grabbing his gym clothes from his locker as the lunch bell signaled the end of their afternoon meal. " I'm sorry, Gerald. I don't know what must of come over me,"
" Don't worry about it. Like I said, Helga was in bully mode when you got on yesterday, and her bad attitude must've just, I don't know, rubbed off or something," Gerald grabbed his own gym bag off the floor, following Arnold towards the gymnasium.
" Yeah, but its not like I haven't dealt with Helga, or her mood swings before,"
The boys entered the locker room amidst shouts and mild cursing, the normal clamor of 6th grade boys in a group.
" I sure don't get it though," Arnold muttered as he pulled his sweater up over his oblong head.
" Well that's the best explanation I could come up with," Gerald answered dryly, turning his back momentarily to shed his own red football shirt.
Arnold unbuttoned his plaid shirt, pulling out one arm. As he did so, the cold metal from his house key pressed against his bare skin.
" Man, it's freezing in here," Arnold grumbled, his hand closing over the key as he shivered slightly. But it wasn't just a key that he held in his enclosed fingers. Some kind of ..paper key chain?
He was about to examine the mysterious key chain clutched in his hand, when the warning bell rang. He pulled on his white tee shirt quickly, releasing the suspicious item as he did so. It would have to wait until after gym.
" I can't believe we have to play against the boys," Rhonda complained loudly, her perfectly tan legs crossed in her pristine white gym shorts. " It's completely barbaric,"
" I think it's just ever so delightful," Lila smiled, her eyes half lidded in excitement. She was newly single, and a room full of boys didn't sound at all revolting to her. She twisted her finger around a long red braid that hung over her shoulder.
" Are you sure what you think happened, actually HAPPENED?" Helga whispered unsuccessfully to Phoebe as they sat on the visitor's side of the gym, waiting for their forced co-ed basketball training session. Helga was clad in pink shorts and a white tank top, her long blonde hair back in a simple ponytail.
" As I have told you at least 20 times since lunch, yes, yes and YES," Phoebe uttered vehemently. Her standard wire frames were nestled safely in her locker, contacts in their place. Her medium length black hair was pinned back in a very similar style. " There's no other logical explanation,"
Coach Wittenburg blew an ear splitting blast on his whistle, halting all conversation in the process.
" Okay, chittlins, it's time to commence with operation teach the ladies a thing or two about b ball," the graying behemoth of a man bellowed, winking to the boy's side of the gym.
All the girls groaned or scowled at his sexist remark, but got to their feet.
Arnold searched the other side of the gym, his eyes coming to rest on the object of his affections: Lila.
She was being picked to be point guard on the first group to go out, her light green shorts over her freckled legs. He smiled, but it felt empty. That's strange, I usually feel all flustered when I see her.
" Okay, Arnie! Look alive, I want you for point guard against Sawyer!" Coach Wittenburg yelled, breaking his train of thoughts.
The boys took their position against the girls: Stinky, Sid, Arnold, Gerald, and Harold, against Lila, Nadine, Rhonda, Katrinka, and Patty. Lila made eye contact with Arnold, but her eyes were cold and uncaring. Arnold frowned, not knowing why she was mad or more importantly, why it didn't really bother him.
Another whistle blast, and the ball was in play. Sid dribbled up the court, past Nadine, and around Rhonda. " Ugh, you're dripping your nasty sweat on my one of a kind Spumoni running shoes, cretin!"
" Stinky!" Sid passed the ball, nodding in his direction.
" Okey Dokey," Stinky yelled back, slamming into a brick wall in Patty Smith. The ball dropped out of his hands, and was scooped up by Katrinka.
Arnold watched the scene with great concentration, but he felt a heavy stare on his being as he did so. He ripped his eyes from the game momentarily, just in time to lock eyes with her.
Helga G. Pataki.
Her icy blue eyes stared at him in bewilderment, almost in fear of him. His heart gave a funny leap, an unfamiliar lightness. She had been smiling somewhat until his eyes had locked onto hers. Now, all trace of happiness was wiped clean, and her mouth seemed to be forming words in slow motion. It was almost like he could read her lips-LOOK OUT-
Arnold collided head first with Lila, the two of them screeching across the freshly waxed gymnasium floor. A harsh whistle blast and the game came to a standstill.
" Man, I'm really sorry Lila," Arnold leapt to his feet in embarrassment. He extended a hand to the disheveled red head lying in a heap.
She took his hand hesitantly, standing with exaggerated difficulty. " Thank you, Arnold," she replied distantly.
" It's no-"
His words died on his lips as Lila bent to pick up his torn key chain, tangled amongst her sneakers.
Realization of sorts began to dawn on him, and he suddenly had NO desire for anyone to see that red paper heart as it dangled next to his house key. He made a desperate grab for it.
But it was too late. Lila's eyes narrowed evilly. " Is that a picture of ...Helga?" she whispered, her voice inaudible to anyone but him.
His face colored scarlet. How on earth did such a thing come to be around his neck?
Luckily, another calamity struck right in that instant, freeing him from further confrontation. No one had seen the mysterious key chain but him.
Helga, however, had passed out cold.
*****MORE TO COME MY PRETTIES! MUHWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!!!!!
"
Chapter 9 Come Undone
Helga gripped the sides of her head in agony. Just moments before, she'd been having a light and interesting conversation with Phoebe, then WHAM- instant migraine.
" Here you go, Helga. I'm ever so sure this should help you with your headache," Lila purred in a soothing voice, dispensing two small, yellow tablets into her outstretched hand.
Helga tossed them in her mouth, slugged down a huge gulp of the abandoned coffee, and sighed.
" Is that better?" Lila asked, her green eyes filled with a kind of concern, intermingled with raw fear.
" Oh gee, Lila. You're right, aspirin is EVER SO frickin' effective the moment you ingest it! SHEESH, of course I'm not better yet, Ms. Perfect," Helga growled in disgust, her eyes closing in pain as she finished her sentence.
Lila stalked back to her seat, her face twisted in sort of a grimace, but she kept her eyes focused on her green patent leather shoes.
Arnold winced slightly at her biting words, knowing in an instant that something significant had just taken place...he was just unsure now of what. " Why do I feel so weird, like there's something I'm supposed to be remembering?" he whispered to himself.
" Man, Phoebe, I feel like I just got hit by an ice cream truck," Helga moaned, her eyes only half open in her agony. " What's been going on? I feel like I'm a step behind or something,"
" You...don't recall the events of the last 24 hours, Helga?" Phoebe's eyes filled with concern.
" Naw, I'm just putting you on. OF COURSE I don't know what's been going on, other than I have the mother of all migraines! Look, if you have some idea of why I'm here, without any recollection of the past day, with a throbbing headache, then for Pete sake, SPILL IT!"
" Why are you so quiet, Gerald?" Arnold ignored the moaning and muttering in the seat ahead of him, noticing for the first time since he got on the bus that his best friend had been completely silent the whole ride.
" Me? Oh, no reason," Gerald answered, his voice edgy. " I'm surprised you're speaking to me in a decent tone of voice at all, frankly," Gerald turned his eyes once more towards the game pal in his hands, pushing the buttons a little too fiercely with his thumbs.
" What do you mean, decent tone of voice? When have I ever been rude to you before, other than our fight over running Mrs. Vitello's, that is." Arnold looked broken hearted at his friend's aloofness.
" Oh, maybe the past 24 hours, for example," Gerald muttered under his breath, averting his eyes purposely.
" What 24 hours? What day is this?" Arnold scratched his head, feeling very bewildered at the scenes unfolding before him.
" Look man, I don't know what's been up with you, but you seen to be back to normal now, and that's all that matters, I suppose." Gerald shut off his game, shoving it in his backpack as the school bus rolled to a clumsy stop
" Just forget all about it, okay? Truce," Gerald held out his hand tentatively.
Arnold did his special handshake with his friend, and a smile spread across Gerald's once somber face. " C'mon, we better get to class before Bubba takes the good seats,"
"I really think we need to talk privately," Phoebe lamented as an ill- tempered Helga exited the bus. " I think I can help fill you in on the past day's events," She gripped her notebook in confirmation.
" Sure thing, just let me give the drugs time to kick in, Hyerdahl," Helga whined uncharacteristically. " I haven't had a migraine like this since Olga graduated valedictorian from Wellington College,"
" Take your time, but I have pertinent information. It's quite earth shattering, too, so please, don't make any snap judgements or comments until we go over the contents of my notebook, PLEASE," Phoebe's voice wavered helplessly.
" Whatever, Dr. Freud. I just want to make it through chem with my cerebellum in tact," Helga moaned, although with somewhat less intensity.
The lunch bell rang a long, loud peal throughout the halls of P.S. 118 as a stampede of young people made their ways through the corridors. Helga waited impatiently for Phoebe at their usual table, her stomach growling fiercely.
" There you are," Arnold gasped as he sat down, having run the entire length of the school to catch up with Gerald in the cafeteria. Sweat trickled down his face as he leaned against the table, sucking in his breath hungrily.
" Where's the fire, buddy?" Gerald dug his lunch money out of his pockets and led him towards the lunch line. " It's meatloaf day. I don't think I'd be in any sort of rush to eat this stuff," Gerald laughed good-naturedly, happy to have his best friend back to normal.
" No fire, I was running from Devin," Arnold grabbed a painful stitch in his side, his breath returning. "You know, that foreign exchange student from France? He's really mad at me about something," His eyes darted around the room anxiously.
" The French kid? Ha! It's no wonder, you took him out like 3 times yesterday," Gerald chuckled, grabbing a chocolate milk from the cooler.
" Took him where?" Arnold held his own tray as mashed potatoes, broccoli, and meatloaf smothered in questionable looking gravy were mounded on his plate.
" To the clinic. You knocked him over twice, I THINK by accident, and oh yeah, shoved him once too,"
" By accident?" Arnold gulped, swiping a tapioca pudding from the dessert tray.
" Nope, NOT by accident," Gerald answered smugly.
"Okay Pheebs, what's all the drama about?" Helga's head lay atop her lunch box, a bendy straw stuck in the side of her mouth as she slurped ice cold chocolate milk through it. She pushed a strand of pale blonde hair behind her ear. " I didn't even have time to put my hair back today," she grumbled.
" Well, first of all, don't panic," Phoebe's own lunch of a watercress sandwich, carrot sticks and thermos of steaming chicken broth was laid out symmetrically in front of her. She took a sip of her iced green tea before speaking again.
" What I'm about to tell you may come as a complete shock,"
" Get on with it, I'm starvin' here," Helga muttered, draining the milk with one long sip.
" Why don't you unpack your meal then?" Phoebe suggested, becoming highly agitated at her friend's non -chalantness.
" Uh, news flash Pheebs, I think the last time Miriam packed me a lunch, she was on the wagon, and I don't mean the band wagon," Helga answered grimly, painfully acknowledging her mother's alcoholism.
" Open your lunch box, Helga" Phoebe repeated quietly.
" Ugh, WHY? Are you out of shaving cream or something? There's nothing in there but some random household items, perhaps some oregano and fish food? What's it to you?" Helga's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
" Just open it, please," Phoebe pleaded, her own eyes wide with concern.
Helga grunted, but complied.
Seconds later, the lunch box clattered to the floor, its contents spilling out haphazardly in the process.
" She packed my lunch," Helga whispered, her face going a ghostly white.
Phoebe gathered up the apple, packet of cookies, turkey sandwich on wheat and celery sticks and dip that had flown onto the tiled floor just moments before.
" Precisely," Phoebe responded evenly.
" So she's.."
" In rehab again," Phoebe finished the sentence hesitantly.
" But how?" Helga wore a painfully confused expression.
" Let's start with the bus ride to school," Phoebe began, cracking the notebook open as her friend leaned over the rows upon rows of her neat, precise handwriting, chomping on the apple absent-mindedly.
" And I've been acting like a complete loon for the past 24 hours? Huh, I wonder what's up with that," Arnold sighed, grabbing his gym clothes from his locker as the lunch bell signaled the end of their afternoon meal. " I'm sorry, Gerald. I don't know what must of come over me,"
" Don't worry about it. Like I said, Helga was in bully mode when you got on yesterday, and her bad attitude must've just, I don't know, rubbed off or something," Gerald grabbed his own gym bag off the floor, following Arnold towards the gymnasium.
" Yeah, but its not like I haven't dealt with Helga, or her mood swings before,"
The boys entered the locker room amidst shouts and mild cursing, the normal clamor of 6th grade boys in a group.
" I sure don't get it though," Arnold muttered as he pulled his sweater up over his oblong head.
" Well that's the best explanation I could come up with," Gerald answered dryly, turning his back momentarily to shed his own red football shirt.
Arnold unbuttoned his plaid shirt, pulling out one arm. As he did so, the cold metal from his house key pressed against his bare skin.
" Man, it's freezing in here," Arnold grumbled, his hand closing over the key as he shivered slightly. But it wasn't just a key that he held in his enclosed fingers. Some kind of ..paper key chain?
He was about to examine the mysterious key chain clutched in his hand, when the warning bell rang. He pulled on his white tee shirt quickly, releasing the suspicious item as he did so. It would have to wait until after gym.
" I can't believe we have to play against the boys," Rhonda complained loudly, her perfectly tan legs crossed in her pristine white gym shorts. " It's completely barbaric,"
" I think it's just ever so delightful," Lila smiled, her eyes half lidded in excitement. She was newly single, and a room full of boys didn't sound at all revolting to her. She twisted her finger around a long red braid that hung over her shoulder.
" Are you sure what you think happened, actually HAPPENED?" Helga whispered unsuccessfully to Phoebe as they sat on the visitor's side of the gym, waiting for their forced co-ed basketball training session. Helga was clad in pink shorts and a white tank top, her long blonde hair back in a simple ponytail.
" As I have told you at least 20 times since lunch, yes, yes and YES," Phoebe uttered vehemently. Her standard wire frames were nestled safely in her locker, contacts in their place. Her medium length black hair was pinned back in a very similar style. " There's no other logical explanation,"
Coach Wittenburg blew an ear splitting blast on his whistle, halting all conversation in the process.
" Okay, chittlins, it's time to commence with operation teach the ladies a thing or two about b ball," the graying behemoth of a man bellowed, winking to the boy's side of the gym.
All the girls groaned or scowled at his sexist remark, but got to their feet.
Arnold searched the other side of the gym, his eyes coming to rest on the object of his affections: Lila.
She was being picked to be point guard on the first group to go out, her light green shorts over her freckled legs. He smiled, but it felt empty. That's strange, I usually feel all flustered when I see her.
" Okay, Arnie! Look alive, I want you for point guard against Sawyer!" Coach Wittenburg yelled, breaking his train of thoughts.
The boys took their position against the girls: Stinky, Sid, Arnold, Gerald, and Harold, against Lila, Nadine, Rhonda, Katrinka, and Patty. Lila made eye contact with Arnold, but her eyes were cold and uncaring. Arnold frowned, not knowing why she was mad or more importantly, why it didn't really bother him.
Another whistle blast, and the ball was in play. Sid dribbled up the court, past Nadine, and around Rhonda. " Ugh, you're dripping your nasty sweat on my one of a kind Spumoni running shoes, cretin!"
" Stinky!" Sid passed the ball, nodding in his direction.
" Okey Dokey," Stinky yelled back, slamming into a brick wall in Patty Smith. The ball dropped out of his hands, and was scooped up by Katrinka.
Arnold watched the scene with great concentration, but he felt a heavy stare on his being as he did so. He ripped his eyes from the game momentarily, just in time to lock eyes with her.
Helga G. Pataki.
Her icy blue eyes stared at him in bewilderment, almost in fear of him. His heart gave a funny leap, an unfamiliar lightness. She had been smiling somewhat until his eyes had locked onto hers. Now, all trace of happiness was wiped clean, and her mouth seemed to be forming words in slow motion. It was almost like he could read her lips-LOOK OUT-
Arnold collided head first with Lila, the two of them screeching across the freshly waxed gymnasium floor. A harsh whistle blast and the game came to a standstill.
" Man, I'm really sorry Lila," Arnold leapt to his feet in embarrassment. He extended a hand to the disheveled red head lying in a heap.
She took his hand hesitantly, standing with exaggerated difficulty. " Thank you, Arnold," she replied distantly.
" It's no-"
His words died on his lips as Lila bent to pick up his torn key chain, tangled amongst her sneakers.
Realization of sorts began to dawn on him, and he suddenly had NO desire for anyone to see that red paper heart as it dangled next to his house key. He made a desperate grab for it.
But it was too late. Lila's eyes narrowed evilly. " Is that a picture of ...Helga?" she whispered, her voice inaudible to anyone but him.
His face colored scarlet. How on earth did such a thing come to be around his neck?
Luckily, another calamity struck right in that instant, freeing him from further confrontation. No one had seen the mysterious key chain but him.
Helga, however, had passed out cold.
*****MORE TO COME MY PRETTIES! MUHWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!!!!!
"