Trough the Compact Disc
Hey, those who have trouble with patience, sorri. Been kept up with other things like blasted evil homework and Explanations. I wrote like a ton of new songs for Helga that are all mine! No disclaimer there, lawyers! Also, this is not a short one! Hooray! I tried typing this three times but it froze before I could save it. VIRUS, I swear. Plus, POV! So, here we go! Phebga?
*Tossing, turning, sighs, arguing, electronics, radio, phones, trivia, tickets! Lotsa stuff, huh? That is all. Over. Click. *
Yeah, and guess what? I only own 3 of Helga's songs, Guess What, Waiting, and The Key, also that smidge of something w/ 'full of rats'. Frannie and Deana are mine, too. Even those radio broadcasters aren't mine, they work for my fav radio station. Everythang else don't belong to me!
Quote of the Chappie: "Oh, go on!" "Okay, I'll stop." "No, really, go on. Go on!" Arnold and Helga Married-HA!
POV-Author
Arnold looked at the clock on his nightstand. He sighed. It was a little after two o' clock in the morning, and he was still wide-awake. His thoughts were like caffeine, wrapping him around in a new state of hyper awareness; he couldn't think of anything else but that girl who ended up as a part of his background. From Urban Tots to the fruits play, to the bio-square, to the tree/Lila dump, to the vacation at the beach, to the egg project, to the day when she disappeared to nowhere, there were memories that Arnold had once shunned from his mind. Even if sometimes he brought them back.
Even though he had taken the covers of long ago, Frannie was awoken from the constant pushes made accidentally by Arnold. She had kept quiet for a while, but when it wouldn't stop, she tapped him on the shoulder. "Honey, what are you doing?"
Arnold jumped from the surprise, but calmed when he heard his wife's voice. "I'm sorry I woke you up, Frannie."
She pushed herself up so she could sit on her elbows. "I've been up for a while." There was a small pause as Arnold sat up, too. "Arnold, you didn't answer my question."
Arnold laid his head in his hands. He was so tired, but then the caffeine got him. "Thinking."
Frannie rolled her eyes. She knew what he was thinking about, even if she hoped he wasn't. "Is it about that girl on the CD I bought for Deana? That Helen girl?"
"Helga is, not Helen."
"I knew it." She sat up all the way this time. "Dear, why are you obsessed with that girl? Its not like you were dating or anything." Wait. "Were you?"
Arnold chuckled. If only she knew what Helga had said that one time. "Halfway point, I guess. I'm sure Deana would want that to be true." His smile faded. "I just can't get over the fact that I had missed my chance. My chance to get to know her slightly better. Eleven years and I only knew her name, that she picked on me, she must have a nice side, and that she- never mind. I just wish...I was always supposed to be the one who could help out someone. Anyone. Except for Helga. She's obviously strong, but still weak. Man, I'm confused." He smiled, a sad but still happy one.
A small heat rushed through Francesca's blood veins. Why should she be jealous? There wasn't anyway that he could like her; he hadn't even known her from what she learned. Still, she knew she had an amazing mind, too. "Look, punt-head," she said. Arnold gave her a quizzical look. "Joking. Look, now you know some things about her. There's no more you can do. 'What's done is done, what's passed is past. Not everything is meant to last.' She wrote that, you know."
Arnold accusingly pointed his finger at her. She was proving his point in this weird kind of argument. "See? Even you like her! I just want to get to know her, and you're quoting her trying to tell me that it's not worth it."
"At least I'm not trying to get to her because I used to know her, which I didn't! You barely ever talk to Gerald anymore, and he's a talk show host. Phoebe is a scientist at Duke, Stinky owns a pie company, and my best friend, Clarice, is Secretary to the President! You are a psychologist and a father. I'm a mother and a kindergarten teacher! Helga is a pop/rock star/poet/author. She's gone, and you don't have to see her."
Arnold's head went down in sorrow. "She's an old friend. If you had a chance I'd bet you'd talk forever with Clarice. I just want to see her. My mind is full of questions."
Francesca sucked on her teeth. She could not win this battle. "Fine, fine. You win, fanatic. You can e-mail her, or something. I guess its no problem."
Okay, now Arnold was curious. If it was no problem, why was she trying to stop him? Ah, that good old density. "Thanks." He lied back down on his pillow sleepily. Not even his thoughts could keep him up at two-thirty in the morning. "Good night, dear."
Frannie put her head down and sighed. It was slight jealousy. "Good night, Arnold." Her thoughts kept her awake like caffeine until four in the morning.
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POV-Deana
"Mom! Dad! Wake up, you guys!" I was sitting in between my dead-cold parents. Oh, I'm still excited about the fact that Helga Pataki had written songs about my dad.
My father snorted, and rather loudly, signaling that it would take something drastic to wake them up. I rolled her eyes. I'd get in trouble, but since I'm only 11, I "MOM! DAD! IT'S SATURDAY, AND I HAVE A MEETING WITH MY HISTORY FAIR GROUP IN, LIKE TWO HOURS!"
Dad and Mom jerked up, their hearts beating a mile per quarter second. "Deana!" voiced my mom, both angry and tired. "Where's the fire?"
I smirked, that smirk that my best friend says looks like Helga's. Which I didn't believe. Anyway... "There is none, Mom. I have that Histaory project meeting with Annie and Ricky in a little while. You guys must have been up late. Its way after nine. You slept through your alarm clock."
They both looked over to the clock and saw the time. Dad's eyes jumped open. "Dee, where's that little booklet thingy?"
I cocked my head, then got excited. I knew what he was about to do. I raced out to get it. Oh, this was so cool. When I came back in the room, Mom was looking at Dad weird. Um, question mark. Well, I gave it to Dad, and as I expected, he went straight for the computer.
I looked back at my mom, who was about to fall back on her pillow. "Mom? Clothes, shoes, hair, then the car. I'll be waiting in there."
Mom nodded, getting up. "I need a glass of water."
I laughed inside, then ran to the car and turned up the radio.
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POV-Arnold *Ya've been waiting for this part, haven't ya?*
I took the booklet from Deana and raced to the computer. The stupid machine was to slow. I needed on the Internet now! What am I thinking? I'm going crazy over this, aren't I? I guess that's what Francesca meant.
While I waited, I looked at the address Deana gave me. Question mark. It was notolgafutbal@aol.com. (AN: No, Its not real, and if someone has this address, SORRY!).
When AOL finally loaded up, Deana and Fran were gone. I went to the Mail Center. So what if I had 20 emails from patients. I'd get to them later. I went to Write Mail, typed in the address, and wrote:
Subject: Long Time, No See
From: smudgesgalore@aol.com
Dear Helga Pataki,
This isn't really a fan letter(Even if my wife thinks it is.) Yes, I'm a man. You know me, but you don't know who I am right now. Anyway, here's a clue: Your email address. I'd appreciate it if you told who I was. My daughter is crazy about this. she really loves you. i'm sorry I never got to talk to you sooner. Will you forgive me? This is my name:
Signed,
Arnold Tiller. AKA: Football Head
PS: I like your songs. I'm sorry, again, for not trying to talk to you.
I clicked the send button and laughed. I'd like to see her face when she reads this.
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
POV-Helga
I was checking my fan mail. A lot was about 'Family Portrait'. My idea, agent wanted to tweak it. Some were just those pathetic 'I love you sooooo much. Your so famous is why' mail. Then I saw one from smudgesgalore@aol.com. The subject was 'Long time, no see'. I clicked on it.
After reading the mysterious letter, my mouth dropped. "Oh, God! Not possible!" Next came blackness.
When I woke up, I was on my bed surronded by my 'bodyguard' and my 'agent'. When they saw I was awake, they sighed. I scowled.
I remembered what the letter said. "Give me the phone."
"But, Helga, baby, we have to talk about the-"
Agents are so self-absorbed. "NOW!"
When I was handed my cell phone, I called the radio station in Hillwood. How I remembered it is a mystery. "Time to let Anonymous out." The phone rang, and I shooed them away. "Hello? This is Helga Pataki. I have something to-yeah, it's Helga Pataki. Listen..."
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
POV-Francesca
Deana ran into the car, carrying five books on pioneer trails between 1830-1850. She threw them in, climbed in, and yelled, "Put on the radio, Mom!"
I did so. She loves music. It's her life. When I put it on, there was a song that was obviously HP's work.
"Well guess what? Like you, I'm human.
And I'm gonna live my life just like you, man.
La, la, la, la, la, la, la...
I have a life!
I have a voice!"
"Oh, man! That one was new! I missed it!" Deana was really obsessed with her. almost as much as Arnold.
So, I'm a little jealous. Can you blame me? That's all he's thought about in the last 24 hours!
"And that was Helga Pataki's latest hit, Guess What. Speaking of HP, you'll never guess what happened during the playing of that song! Helga herself called here, her old, favorite radio station! And now she's let out once top secret information!"
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
PO
POV-Arnold
"And she's let out once top secret information!"
I smiled. I never would have guessed she'd listen to me for a change. Ha. Deana's in for a surprise.
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
POV-Helga
I listened on my satellite radio (there's something good about being famous) to what Ned Jr. was announcing. Like I didn't know anyway.
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
POV-Deana
Top secret information. Only one thing.
"She's letting everyone know about Dad!"
"And we've turned it into a trivia question. No one's gonna guess this. Who is the anonymous man Helga based 'Things I'll Never Say' on? First caller who gets it right wins 4 tickets to her Hometown concert!"
Mom was staring at the radio player.
I smiled. "Give me your cell. I'm glad I didn't tell Annie." When she handed it to me, I punched in the memorized number and put the phone to my ear. No busy signal.
"Hello, you're on the air! Ya got a name? More importantly, do you know the answer?"
"Deana, and yeah I do. His name is-"
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
POV-Arnold
"His name is Arnold Tiller."
How did I know Deana would be the one?
"Wow. That's, that's correct! How did you know that?"
Arnold could hear Deana's laugh. "Well, I am his kid!"
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
POV-Helga
"Well, I am his kid!"
Kid? Arnold had a kid? That meant he was married. Oh, yeah. He mentioned 'wife' and 'daughter' in the e-mail.
Well, at least I can see him at my Hometown Concert.
Sigh, oh, poor me. Whatever. I had some songs that were never before realesed for the concert. I hope Deana likes them. I hope Arnold likes them.
I grabbed my phone.
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
POV-Deana
"His kid? Well, that explains it! Wait, can you hold on a second? I think we have a response. Hello, this is NJ. What's your name?"
"You and Deana know my name."
I gasped, then covered my mouth. There was no, possible, at least in this dimension, way.
"HELGA PATAKI!"
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
POV-Author
Helga smiled. It was rare that she smiled. "Hey, Deana, what's up?"
Deana's mouth dropped open. "Are you really...?"
"Deana? Yes, I am. Can you tell your dad that it's okay. He'll figure out why at the concert. you guys have back stage passes, remember?"
Deana's voice was taking a short holiday, so the boss had to work it. "Yes. I-I-I really like your songs. I'm not ju-ju-just saying that cuz you're famous. I really do. My mom loves your poems. And I will tell him."
Helga wanted to reach through the phone and hug Arnold's child, the one that could be hers. "Yeah, I know. You're Arnold's kid, remember? And, Mrs. Tiller? Thanks, and you're lucky."
Francesca was listening the whole time. She had long pulled into a gas station so she didn't have to drive. Arnold was getting what he wanted. So was Deana. And a little part of herself wanted to see her, too. She was her favorite author.
"Well, I guess I'll you see you at the concert. Bye Deana."
"Bye, HP. I'll see you, too."
"Bye, Hillwood."
They both hung up.
"Well," said NJ, flabbergasted, "I think that everyone listening is really excited. Deana, we'll have the tickets delivered to you in time for the concert, which is in three days. Now, let's play 'Stole', by Kelly Rowland.
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?
"Dad, dad, dad, guess what?" Deana ran into the house, totally out of breath, screaming. "Helga, Helga Pataki said, she said..."
Arnold got up from his seat by the radio and smiled at his daughter. "I know. And I know what she wanted you to tell me." He knelt down and hugged her daughter.
"Dad, this is so cool! Who would think that this all would come from a compact disc!" Deana was so excited. Not only was her Dad famous, but she actually talked to HP and got back stage passes to her concert to talk with her! "I've gotta call Annie, and Heather, and Leslie, and Luz, and..." She ran up the stairs to her room, naming every single one of her friends.
Frannie walked in the door, half smiling, half frowning. She was very confused. she walked up to Arnold and held her necklace tight in her hand. "Arnold?" she asked.
Arnold turned to her wife and kissed her on the cheeck. "What is it?"
Frannie smiled. "What do you think I should wear to the concert?"
Aye, Caramba! This is like, four times as long as the first three! Is this a good enough chapter for the wait? *Ah, can't feel fingers. The chapter + beginning credits were 2,500 words!* I didn't know where to cut it! Anyway, here's to my loyal reviews who will review me for my struggle. I'm sorry for the delay! Here's a clue about the next chappie: Helga has to be in town for the concert, so between rehearsals, she... *Was that good? I hope so. My idea.* Flames are welcome, or critisim, or just encouraging reviews. Now, click that little button. Go on, go on, you can do it!
~~Briana LFBH ^^+Phebga^^
