***A/A** Sorry it took so long to update this time, I claim yule time
madness! Thanks again to all my faithful readers and reviewers. I hope
everyone has a wonderful holiday season, no matter what you celebrate! Hope
this chapter doesn't really bite, to quote Stinky. I don't have any
motivation this chapter, other than to get another chap out there for my
fans! Thanks again from the bottom of my heart, now on with the show!~
Chapter 13 Laying it on the Line
Helga's feet shuffled as she made her way home, kicking randomly at the brightly colored fall leaves in her path. Phoebe lived close enough that she rarely took the bus home from her house. The autumn sun struggled to break free from the thick blanket of threatening clouds that hung overhead. Helga sighed. That was exactly how SHE felt.
Here she was, struggling to break free of her bully persona, to show Arnold she could be a decent person, yet people like Barnie were causing her to throw that all too familiar shield up again. Little Miss Perfect adding to the mix certainly didn't help any either.
She swung the door to her building open, flinging her backpack against the closet wall with little enthusiasm. " I'm home, Miri-I mean, Mom," Helga corrected herself conscientiously. Phoebe had mentioned that Miriam was actually more attentive to her if she used the maternal moniker in favor of her given name.
An unfamiliar smell hung in the air. Helga's first thought was of a certain Swedish nanny, and that she must have returned to the Pataki house. Nope, no wooden shoes by the back door.
" There you are, honey!" Miriam chirped, her face freshly made up. She was dressed in an utterly hopeful light blue dress, a slight change from her customary purplish-gray garb. A broad smile covered her alert face, showcasing her still radiant beauty.
" Mom?" Helga breathed, her eyes wide with surprise. " What did you do, enter that extreme makeover show? You look...good!"
" Why thank you for noticing, but no. I am just being plain ol' Miriam Annabelle Pataki, or at least the new improved version," Miriam giggled lightly at her own joke.
Helga's mouth hung open in astonishment.
" Dinner is in the oven, and it's almost finished. Would you mind setting the table dear? Perhaps after my second meeting, we can work on that pesky science project you have due next week! Nothing like getting a good head start!"
The phone rang abruptly, giving Helga a momentary reprieve from the onslaught of her mother's new-found chattiness. Sheesh, Phoebe wasn't kidding. Miriam was definitely back in rehab with a vengeance.
Arnold was making his way home from Gerald's at roughly the same time Helga had left for her home as well. He took the bus, however, too anxious to chance the walk home.
He knew he shouldn't let it get to him, but the words of the sullen stranger rang in his ears.
You'll be very, VERY sorry.
Who cared if he had a crush on Helga? And who said he did? He blushed as he thought of the possibility. He knew something significant had been revealed to him as of late, some deeply buried part of his heart was exposed. He didn't know if he dared acknowledge what was happening to him.
The bus halted sharply at the corner of Vine and 33rd street. " See ya, Murray," Arnold muttered as he exited the rusty old machine.
A flurry of fur and pink shot past him as he entered the front door, his movements automatic as he dodged each wayward pet with ease. " I'm home, everyone," he yelled, hanging his jacket and backpack on the hooks inside the doorway.
" That you Shortman?" his grandpa called from the kitchen. " Your little friend was just here,"
Arnold's face instantly colored scarlet again. Grandpa only referred to one person as Arnold's "little friend". He gulped.
" Which friend?"
" I don't know, some kid in a dark cloak. Very mysterious, that one was. They left you some kind of package," Grandpa chewed a questionable looking sandwich thoughtfully.
"Package? Dark cloak?" Arnold's eyes narrowed. " Was it a boy or a girl?"
" Now that's the million dollar question, kiddo. I have no idea, they just asked if you were home and left this for you," Grandpa pointed to a small, paper covered package tied with twine.
Arnold fingered the package gingerly. He sniffed it for a moment, not really knowing what he was actually trying to smell.
" Don't worry, it's not a bomb or any type of chemical warfare," Grandpa chuckled, his eyes gleaming. " Pookie's in safety inspector persona today. She already gave it a once over with the Hillwood bomb squad,"
" Uh...yeah. Thanks." Arnold felt relief wash over him, although he'd never admit it to anyone else. " I'm going up to my room to do my homework," Arnold dashed out of the room, package in hand, stopping only 2 seconds to snatch up his backpack.
" No problem, Shortman, I'll call you when dinner's ready," Grandpa called after him. He smiled. " Kids these days and their secret agent games. Some things never change,"
A much different scenario was taking place across town. A certain young man was listening to Spumoni, snapping his fingers to the syncopated beat. He ran a black comb through his already perfectly coifed hair, winking at his reflection as he did so.
A picture of an infinitely beautiful red head was perched in the center of his chest of drawers. He glanced down at it and flipped it face down with a quick flick of his wrist.
Lila Sawyer. Nothing but a plastic piece of arm candy. The young man choked back a scoff at the thought. Fiddling through his briefcase, he withdrew another portrait, this being of a lovely young woman, her face devoid of feeling or warmth. Her blonde hair was cut in soft layers to her shoulders, her piercing blue eyes the focal point of the picture.
He slapped some scotch tape on the 3 by 5 inches of school issue picture and taped it to the top right hand corner of his mirror. He smiled with a great deal of satisfaction at his handy work. This was his new muse, the object of his boy hood affections. He couldn't believe she'd been below his radar for so long! No matter, he saw her true colors now and wasn't the least bit deterred by a little noncompliance on her part.
" Anything's more challenging than picking out green hair ribbons," he chuckled to himself, humming along to the tune of, " You'd Better Not Touch My Gal,"
Tomorrow, his plan of action would fall into place.
Arnold sat cross- legged on his single bed, the tiny paper parcel resting between trembling fingers. He knew this must have something to do with that threatening phone call he'd received only an hour prior.
He ripped one corner of the brown paper lightly, trying to make out its contents with his mind's eye. No such luck. He pulled a little more aggressively, this time exposing a box.
He finished unfolding the layers of plain paper surrounding the box, and a flat, white box lay in the midst of the wrappings. He gulped. No tape or adhesive of any sort held the lid on the box, and he needed only to lift its lid to find out the contents. He took a deep breath, lifted the lid.....
Helga put the cap back on the apple juice, downing half of her glass in one giant swallow. Ever ladylike, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand before setting the glass to the side of her bureau.
" Okay, think Helga ol' girl," She rambled to herself. " I have to figure out a way to get Barfy to get off my case, AND get him back on Lila's good side," She twirled a pencil absent mindedly in her right hand, her thoughts swirling.
" This is no good," she mumbled, eyeing the yellow writing stick in her hand. She dropped it into a half full cup of pencils, retrieving her favorite purple pen in the process.
"That's better," she smiled, uncapping the lavender hued cylinder. She put pen to paper, trying to scheme up a plan. She bit her lip, the words not coming to her.
"Maybe the pink book will help," she sighed, grabbing a fuchsia covered book from her shelf. She flipped the rose scented pages past her latest entry, only it wasn't there.
" What the-" Helga stammered, turning pages at break neck speed. " Where's my latest poem?"
Arnold dropped the light pink piece of parchment from his trembling hands, a single tear staining the purple inked verses.
*****Okay, kinda lame. I wanted to update before Christmas, as everything keeps creeping up on me! I have 2 kids and a husband to shop for, so I probably won't update til after the big day, but who knows? I might get inspired and need a break from all the chaos. Have a happy holiday season!
Chapter 13 Laying it on the Line
Helga's feet shuffled as she made her way home, kicking randomly at the brightly colored fall leaves in her path. Phoebe lived close enough that she rarely took the bus home from her house. The autumn sun struggled to break free from the thick blanket of threatening clouds that hung overhead. Helga sighed. That was exactly how SHE felt.
Here she was, struggling to break free of her bully persona, to show Arnold she could be a decent person, yet people like Barnie were causing her to throw that all too familiar shield up again. Little Miss Perfect adding to the mix certainly didn't help any either.
She swung the door to her building open, flinging her backpack against the closet wall with little enthusiasm. " I'm home, Miri-I mean, Mom," Helga corrected herself conscientiously. Phoebe had mentioned that Miriam was actually more attentive to her if she used the maternal moniker in favor of her given name.
An unfamiliar smell hung in the air. Helga's first thought was of a certain Swedish nanny, and that she must have returned to the Pataki house. Nope, no wooden shoes by the back door.
" There you are, honey!" Miriam chirped, her face freshly made up. She was dressed in an utterly hopeful light blue dress, a slight change from her customary purplish-gray garb. A broad smile covered her alert face, showcasing her still radiant beauty.
" Mom?" Helga breathed, her eyes wide with surprise. " What did you do, enter that extreme makeover show? You look...good!"
" Why thank you for noticing, but no. I am just being plain ol' Miriam Annabelle Pataki, or at least the new improved version," Miriam giggled lightly at her own joke.
Helga's mouth hung open in astonishment.
" Dinner is in the oven, and it's almost finished. Would you mind setting the table dear? Perhaps after my second meeting, we can work on that pesky science project you have due next week! Nothing like getting a good head start!"
The phone rang abruptly, giving Helga a momentary reprieve from the onslaught of her mother's new-found chattiness. Sheesh, Phoebe wasn't kidding. Miriam was definitely back in rehab with a vengeance.
Arnold was making his way home from Gerald's at roughly the same time Helga had left for her home as well. He took the bus, however, too anxious to chance the walk home.
He knew he shouldn't let it get to him, but the words of the sullen stranger rang in his ears.
You'll be very, VERY sorry.
Who cared if he had a crush on Helga? And who said he did? He blushed as he thought of the possibility. He knew something significant had been revealed to him as of late, some deeply buried part of his heart was exposed. He didn't know if he dared acknowledge what was happening to him.
The bus halted sharply at the corner of Vine and 33rd street. " See ya, Murray," Arnold muttered as he exited the rusty old machine.
A flurry of fur and pink shot past him as he entered the front door, his movements automatic as he dodged each wayward pet with ease. " I'm home, everyone," he yelled, hanging his jacket and backpack on the hooks inside the doorway.
" That you Shortman?" his grandpa called from the kitchen. " Your little friend was just here,"
Arnold's face instantly colored scarlet again. Grandpa only referred to one person as Arnold's "little friend". He gulped.
" Which friend?"
" I don't know, some kid in a dark cloak. Very mysterious, that one was. They left you some kind of package," Grandpa chewed a questionable looking sandwich thoughtfully.
"Package? Dark cloak?" Arnold's eyes narrowed. " Was it a boy or a girl?"
" Now that's the million dollar question, kiddo. I have no idea, they just asked if you were home and left this for you," Grandpa pointed to a small, paper covered package tied with twine.
Arnold fingered the package gingerly. He sniffed it for a moment, not really knowing what he was actually trying to smell.
" Don't worry, it's not a bomb or any type of chemical warfare," Grandpa chuckled, his eyes gleaming. " Pookie's in safety inspector persona today. She already gave it a once over with the Hillwood bomb squad,"
" Uh...yeah. Thanks." Arnold felt relief wash over him, although he'd never admit it to anyone else. " I'm going up to my room to do my homework," Arnold dashed out of the room, package in hand, stopping only 2 seconds to snatch up his backpack.
" No problem, Shortman, I'll call you when dinner's ready," Grandpa called after him. He smiled. " Kids these days and their secret agent games. Some things never change,"
A much different scenario was taking place across town. A certain young man was listening to Spumoni, snapping his fingers to the syncopated beat. He ran a black comb through his already perfectly coifed hair, winking at his reflection as he did so.
A picture of an infinitely beautiful red head was perched in the center of his chest of drawers. He glanced down at it and flipped it face down with a quick flick of his wrist.
Lila Sawyer. Nothing but a plastic piece of arm candy. The young man choked back a scoff at the thought. Fiddling through his briefcase, he withdrew another portrait, this being of a lovely young woman, her face devoid of feeling or warmth. Her blonde hair was cut in soft layers to her shoulders, her piercing blue eyes the focal point of the picture.
He slapped some scotch tape on the 3 by 5 inches of school issue picture and taped it to the top right hand corner of his mirror. He smiled with a great deal of satisfaction at his handy work. This was his new muse, the object of his boy hood affections. He couldn't believe she'd been below his radar for so long! No matter, he saw her true colors now and wasn't the least bit deterred by a little noncompliance on her part.
" Anything's more challenging than picking out green hair ribbons," he chuckled to himself, humming along to the tune of, " You'd Better Not Touch My Gal,"
Tomorrow, his plan of action would fall into place.
Arnold sat cross- legged on his single bed, the tiny paper parcel resting between trembling fingers. He knew this must have something to do with that threatening phone call he'd received only an hour prior.
He ripped one corner of the brown paper lightly, trying to make out its contents with his mind's eye. No such luck. He pulled a little more aggressively, this time exposing a box.
He finished unfolding the layers of plain paper surrounding the box, and a flat, white box lay in the midst of the wrappings. He gulped. No tape or adhesive of any sort held the lid on the box, and he needed only to lift its lid to find out the contents. He took a deep breath, lifted the lid.....
Helga put the cap back on the apple juice, downing half of her glass in one giant swallow. Ever ladylike, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand before setting the glass to the side of her bureau.
" Okay, think Helga ol' girl," She rambled to herself. " I have to figure out a way to get Barfy to get off my case, AND get him back on Lila's good side," She twirled a pencil absent mindedly in her right hand, her thoughts swirling.
" This is no good," she mumbled, eyeing the yellow writing stick in her hand. She dropped it into a half full cup of pencils, retrieving her favorite purple pen in the process.
"That's better," she smiled, uncapping the lavender hued cylinder. She put pen to paper, trying to scheme up a plan. She bit her lip, the words not coming to her.
"Maybe the pink book will help," she sighed, grabbing a fuchsia covered book from her shelf. She flipped the rose scented pages past her latest entry, only it wasn't there.
" What the-" Helga stammered, turning pages at break neck speed. " Where's my latest poem?"
Arnold dropped the light pink piece of parchment from his trembling hands, a single tear staining the purple inked verses.
*****Okay, kinda lame. I wanted to update before Christmas, as everything keeps creeping up on me! I have 2 kids and a husband to shop for, so I probably won't update til after the big day, but who knows? I might get inspired and need a break from all the chaos. Have a happy holiday season!