The Sweet Hereafter Chapter 17: Food For Thought, a hey arnold fanfic

The Sweet Hereafter: Food For Thought

Part XXXVI: Conversation On The Incline

"Love is like a barren place,
And reaching out for human faith
It's like a journey I just don't have a map for"

--Savage Garden

"To The Moon And Back"

I'm not sure which scent I find more pleasant—Olga's cooking, which is like a breath of fresh air after the parade of plastic, rubber, and sand fed to me at Hillwood Hospital; or Arnold's own delicious mark, now forever etched into my sensory memory. I could spend eternity like this. Except I'd prefer to be even closer. Given the chance, I'd coil myself around him like a snake, and drink his special scent and flavor as though it were a fine wine. Am I being cautious, or cowardly? I've refrained from pulling him into another kiss. Maybe I don't want to go too fast, but what about the dangers of going too slow? Does everyone who falls in love have to go through this kind of crap? Is it too late to even kiss him again? How dangerous is my love for him? Will it destroy him? Consume him? Circle closer to the flame. Closer. . .closer. And I would ignite us both. Another thought to drive me. I've just run out of other methods. Maybe confession is the catharsis I seek. Or just an inevitability I can no longer avoid.

Maybe it comes as no surprise to him when I lean forward and flip myself over, facing him at an incline. "Hey." Hey says softly, continuing to tousle my hair as though nothing has happened. Is it any wonder why I feel about him the way that I do?

"Hey." I feed the greeting back to him, feeling the folds of my dress shift around my legs, tightening at my knees. "Talk to me about her."

"Her?" Arnold asks, cocking his head to one side.

"Lila." Criminey! I have to spell everything out for him! I really don't know why I'm asking these questions. Some things you just have to know. Even if you realize after it's too late that you might not want the answers. And then when you're faced with the harsh reality. . .you wish you hadn't pursued the truth. The folly of man and woman is far greater than most realize.

Arnold looks at me with a curious expression. Good. I enjoy being mysterious. He has no idea how crazy it makes me when he reads through me like an open book. I go through a lot of trouble to build up my defenses, and when he cuts right through them, it really scares me. I can tell from that look he's giving me that he'd love to know what I'm thinking right now. 'Bout time I finally hit him with a curve ball. "There's a lot I haven't figured out about Lila."

I can feel my eyebrow rise involuntarily. "You told me that you're not in love with her, Arnold."

"I know." He's nodding. Is that somehow supposed to make me feel more assured?

"Are you?" I press my face much closer to his own, and this is anything but a tender moment. Lifting myself up, I rise to a much more imposing height.

"No, I don't think so, Helga. But. . .whenever I see her. . .it's like I feel more complete when I'm around her. Like I've found something that I've been missing almost my whole life. That thin I'm looking for every night, when I'm lying in my bed and gazing through the skylight. . ."

"Looking up at the stars. . ." I say with complete confidence, in tune with his own beautiful voice.

"I do that every night."

"And you still haven't found it."

"No."

How am I supposed to react to this? He's getting something from Lila. Something he's not getting anywhere else, in spite of all the rejections. That's a tall order to compete with. "You still don't trust me, do you, Arnold?"

"I'm not really sure where to go. What happens to you is important to me, Helga."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"So what's the difference between Lila and me? I know you see something special in her."

"It's not easy to talk about. But when Lila talks to me. . .sometimes I feel like I'm okay. I mean, I'm usually okay, but. . .it's like she reassures me of the good in this world. There's something just really special about her. She feels like something that's missing in my life. But. . .I'm not really sure what it is, Helga. I don't have these intense feelings or anything. But I want to keep her close. Does any of that make sense?"

"I don't know. Are you saying you don't like her like her?" Dare I hope that my chance still exists?

"I used to think I did. But awhile back. . .I. . ."Arnold shook his head, desperately trying to clear the images. The frightening image of Lulu still haunted him. "None of it really makes sense."

"These kinds of things usually don't, that's what I've learned. I think it's safe to say that if you're not going crazy over her, you're probably not in love." I smiled.

"Ever the expert, I see." More than you would ever know, Arnold. I could write a veritable thesis on love.

"She's probably a good target for you, Arnoldo. She's definitely you're type. Soft and pretty, sweet to a fault."

"And she's never really cared for me in that way. " Arnold sighs heavily. I push myself a bit closer, smiling impishly. I wish I knew what I was doing. "And maybe that's it, I don't know." Bingo!

"Ah, so you're the romantic type, eh?" I smirked knowingly at him.

"What?" Have I ever mentioned how good it feels for him to be the confused one instead of me?

"You've got a true to life lost cause to chase after. You want her because she's unattainable. She's made herself the ice princess on a pedestal, for you to admire but not to touch." There. That ought to put him in his place!

Arnold absorbs my words, I can almost see in his eyes how he's swirling them about, perhaps trying to get the flavor of their bouquet. He can be dense as a rock, but I love him. I'm waiting for him to share his own thoughts with me, when he just starts laughing. LAUGHING! I take it all back!

"Don't you think you're reaching just a bit, Helga?" Reaching? Reaching for what, you stupid Football Head?! I'm just calling things as I see them! Trying to get it through that oblong skull of yours that you should start considering other options. I'm sure I could pencil a date or two into my busy schedule if you'd only ask me!

"I'm ever so certain I have no idea what you're talking about, Arnold." Ha! Stick that in your mouth and chew it!

Arnold rolls his eyes, completely changing the subject and taking a much different approach than I ever expected. He grabs hold of my left hand, palming it in his own. I can feel the slight tickling sensation produced as his thumb runs over the surface of my own palm. He raises my arm high up and over my head, sizing me up once more with those beautiful eyes of his. I gulp audibly, knowing that he could forever hold me prisoner with them if he chose. And I wouldn't struggle to escape. I'm already a prisoner of love to begin with. "You're soft, Helga." The words roll off his lips and every syllable is playing a note in my ear. That's definitely a new one. I've never heard anyone describe me like that before. Usually I'm accused of being quite the opposite.

I can literally feel my face light up at that comment as I realize something. It's amazing what a little laughter can do for you. "Soft? Well, well, well. So it's true, isn't it? You've never really thought of me as a girl before, have you?"

"What are you talking about?!" I loved watching him stiffen, it wasn't often one gets to see Arnold squirm a little. "Of course you're a girl."

"A girl, yes. But you've never thought of me like this before, have you? What's the matter, Football Head? Have I slipped in under your radar?"

"What? I. . .I'm not really. . ."

"Come on, you can admit it. You were never prepared for someone like me, were you. You never expected me to show you something like this."

"Helga. . ." I listened to him whisper my name as I toyed with his hair for a change, our eyes meeting. His efforts to look away from me are unsuccessful, and I can feel the smile on my face widening. I think I've finally got him right where I want him. Finally! Yes!

"I'm going to kiss you now, Hair Boy. What are you going to do about it?"

"I-I'm not exactly sure that's a good idea. . ."

"Cute. That's what you said last time. And I think we turned out just fine." Our eyes are still locked, my smile still refusing to fade as I look down at him. I'll probably forever wonder if the light from this position gives my blonde hair a shine. I bring my face down to his, pressing my forehead lightly against his delightfully misshapen one. I can feel his breath tickling my own nose and mouth. Is this the way it's supposed to be? Reaching for his hands, my lips are hovering over his own. I reach out to create that all important connection, a dance all our own, when a sound catches my ears that makes me want to scream.

"Helga!" The unmistakable sound of Olga's voice rings out through my house. You've got to be kidding me. YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!! Twice in one day? What does she have, cameras in the wall to catch me whenever I'm trying to be amorous? I'm waiting to wake up and realize that she isn't really here, that I'm free of my nightmare. I've described Arnold as my beloved and my despair before, but maybe I should start writing poetry about Olga too. There are lots of things I could say about her if I just had the freedom.

Unable to restrain the guttural growl, I look deep into Arnold's eyes, cupping his left cheek in the palm of my hand. "Be a dear and hold that thought, would you? I'll try not to keep you waiting. . ." He looks up at me with this dazed instruction. Much as I'd love to just steal the kiss anywhere, I'm not going to. I've already learned that lesson. There's certain moments when it's meant to be, and this one has been ruined by the world famous tying of The Amazing Olga Pataki, hopefully coming soon to a home near you so she'll get out of mine!

"Um, sure thing, Helga." Did I just see him breathe a sigh of relief? Don't even think about it, bucko! You owe me, and I will be coming back to collect!

I release Arnold's cheek and gently flick his nose with my index finger before jumping up. "Baby sister! I really need your help in here!" I heard Olga yell, sounding very worried. I run off to the kitchen without looking back, helping Olga with her teetering pile of fine china. Maybe it's a good thing I'm here to help her after all. Bob sure would flip his lid if anything happened to them. Not that they'd even think of yelling at Olga. Somehow, it would be my fault.

Taking half of the pile from her, I begin setting the table, noting that Olga was getting out the wine glasses. She really was planning on a fancy dinner. I wonder if she'd let me have some wine. . .

Part XXXVII: Thank God It's Dinner

"It's a wise husband who will buy his wife such fine china that she will not trust him to wash the dishes."

--Unknown

Olga smiles a little too happily as she sits beside the head of the table. I'm sitting across from her and one seat down. Arnold is too my right, and Miriam, conscious at last, is directly across from me. Don't ask me where Bob is, I don't know. I don't really care, either. He can take care of himself with leftover. If I see fit to leave any for him, that is. Right now, that isn't an overwhelming possibility. He and I might not have anything in common but blood, but what it have killed him to bring me some flowers? Or even just to come down and check on me? Do I have to get my sister as a proxy? Heck, at least she actually does care. Maybe that's why I've been pretty nice to her since she got here. I mean, we're not exactly bosom buddies or anything. But this is probably the best we've gotten along in some time, if not forever.

Miriam sat quietly, barely noticing that there were two guests at our table tonight. That's right, I consider my sister a guest. Often times an unwanted one. Hmm, maybe I should take back that comment about us getting along.

Arnold clears his throat and looks across the table, earning Olga's attention. Thanks, Arnoldo. You always know how to make me feel special. "So Olga, what are you studying at school this year?"

"Well, Arnold, I'm glad you're asked." Argh! There it is! Her trademark giggle. I swear, if she invites Lila to come over, I'm camping out. "I'm really trying to broaden my horizons, so I'm minoring in philosophy. There's just so many different ways to look at the world, and I want to learn about them all, find the one that suits me best. But I also have my career in mind. I know I take on too much. Daddy says I'm going to be a professional student. He's such a big silly!" She can't just answer a simple question, can she? No, she has to wind up with a two minute presentation so that by the time she gives you an answer, you've long since forgotten what the question was and care even less. Hmm, I think I just came across the reason why she hasn't found herself a husband yet. "Anyway, I've decided to try and give myself different options for when I finish school, so I'm majoring in business and psychology. Don't you think it's a good choice?"

"That sounds like a lot of work, Olga." Arnold smiles for her. Criminey, I want his smiles to be only for me! I can't take it when he looks at her with those eyes! "But I'll bet you're learning a lot. You'll certainly have a lot of different opportunities to choose from when you're finished with your education."

"Yeah, right. Business psychology." I mutter. "For five hundred bucks, she'll blow your mind."

"Did you say something, sweetie?" Oh, look. Miriam's alive. I'd alert the king, but he seems to have abdicated his throne for the evening.

"No, mom."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Helga. I think I need a smoothie."

"I'll fetch you one after dinner." Olga. Sure, sis. Give mom a drink and she'll be happy.

"Thank you. So, Andrew, welcome to our home. I'm sorry I didn't say hello earlier. I was a little indisposed." Is that what they're calling it nowadays? I prefer to call it wallowing in indifference. I try to hide my sigh of frustration. I need to focus on the positive side of things, at least until tonight is over. For his sake, I'll put on the commercial of what nice, normal lives we all live. I mean, no use in scaring him off too quickly, right? He'll have plenty of opportunities to see how screwed up we all are soon enough. If he decides to stick around, that is. No point in getting ahead of myself. I mean, if I were him, I sure as hell wouldn't want to be involved with me!

I saw Arnold open his mouth to correct Miriam about his name, but he just as quickly shut it, apparently thinking better of it. He learns fast. She wouldn't remember it anyway. It's not that she doesn't mean well, but I'm surprised she even came that close to getting his name right. "Thank you for having me, Mrs. Pataki." Olga beamed as she filled each of our plates with. . .something. It looked like a conglomeration of potatoes and vegetables. It sat next to my rib eye steak. That's weird. Olga usually likes to make obscure European dishes. What could've triggered this more simplistic take?

"I hope you enjoy the dinner. I wanted to do something fancier but it wouldn't keep and then daddy would miss out. I know this isn't much, but I hope you'll find it to your liking." Olga clasped her hands together. The way she's looking at Arnold, I expected her to get down on her knees and beg his forgiveness.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. I can tell you went to a lot of work." Arnold responded. Not that it did much to encourage her, she still kept looking at him until he began eating and nodded his approval. "This is really good, Olga. Thank you."

"Thank you so much, Arnold. Your approval means a lot to me, being a guest and all." I can't believe this! Now she's smiling at him!

"I never know what Grandma is going to cook us at home, so eating here is something of a treat." Sure, whatever you say, Arnold. Try eating here sometime when Olga isn't around. This is so unfair! She knows I could never make him a decent meal. And he's blushing! That's it, I can't take it anymore! She's trying to destroy me! I know it! She can't just muscle in and take the love of my life away from me!

"I can give you the recipe, if you like." If I stab at my steak any harder, I'm going to leave permanent marks on the plate.

"I'd like that." Arnold smiles, enjoying several additional mouthfuls of his food. That is it! That's the last straw!

"Well why don't you marry her if you love her so much!" I shout, throwing my fork at my plate and watching it bounce excitedly across the table.

"I'm sorry, Helga. I didn't mean to upset you." Sure you didn't, Arnold. Screw you, you're the last person I want to hear apologizing to me right now. Miriam is blinking wildly, unsure if she's supposed to be refereeing here or just keeping quiet. Please, God, let her choose the latter one.

"Why are you getting so upset, Baby Sister?!" Watching Olga tear up always sickens me. "All I wanted was to do something nice for my sister and her friend. I just wanted you both to like it."

"What?" I ask, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. It's like one of those dreams when you're in school and in your underwear. Except there's a lot less people to see me here, but I feel even more humiliated. And it's then that I realize that I've done it once again. I'm bouncing from one extreme to the other, making a fine mess of things and showing off how useless I am. It's a frightening thing when you realize how screwed up you really are. How possessive can I be? Why do I always have to read so much into everything? Why do I have to throw shadows at him all the time but never make my intentions clear. My sister is just trying to do something nice for me, and I'm right here to piss all over it for her. I turn my head towards Arnold and he looks so concerned about me. Why? How can he be so worried about me when all I do is put on these private shows for attention? I just want him to like me. That seems like so simple a concept until I try to put it into action. Every time I try to make him like me, I make things worse. What's scary is that I probably do a lot better when I just lie here and do nothing. Dear, merciful Arnold, always willing to turn the other cheek. I just don't deserve him, plain and simple.

"Are you alright, Helga?" He asks. He looks at me with such tenderness in his eyes. Olga's eyes are still full of tears. And Miriam is still blinking, looking dazed and not sure of exactly what is happening.

"I. . .I. . .I need to be excused!" I say, jumping up and bolting into the kitchen. I can hear their voices calling after me, wanting me to come back and reassure them that everything is okay but I don't see much point. It's not okay. I want to break something. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to climb up to the roof and shake my fist at the heavens. Maybe I don't really know what I want at all. The only thing I'm sure of right now is that I can't stay in that room with those people, looking at me. I can't stand being the subject of pity. I'd rather die. They all think I'm crazy, now. And they're probably right. I am certifiable. I drop to the floor, leaning against the right side of the refrigerator, crossing my arms across my chest, laughing bitterly and whispering. "And I. . .can. . .feel. . .one of my turns coming on. I. . .feel. . .cold as a razor blade, tight as a tourniquet, dry as a funeral drum. . ." I just can't do it, can I? I can't make things in my life work, even for just one night! I don't ask for much, really! Why can't I catch my happiness? Am I so bent on my own self-destruction that I'm determined to make sure I'm not saved. I don't want to believe that. There must be something good in me to make him still care enough to bother with me, for Olga to keep insisting that we bond together, for Phoebe to put up with my taking advantage of her better nature. I've got to be a better person than this, right? There's more to me, isn't there? How many times will I beg for salvation yet slap away the helping hand to get me out of this dark place? I don't want to be left naked in the dark. The lights going out, leaving me nothing but emptiness and despair. Someone tell me that there's still time, that I'm worth saving. I want to be saved, I swear it! I do want to be saved! Somebody please save me!

I curl my knees up to my chest and cough, disguising a brief whimper. Somewhere along the line I shut my eyes. I'm scared to open them. There's a scary world out there, waiting for me, determined to destroy me. But I need it. I need the world to be there, fill me with pain, let me know that I'm alive. I need to know that there's still a chance, one I squirreled away somewhere and haven't wasted yet. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out too quickly, I open my eyes, blinking twice. It's still here. Everything is just the way I left it. Torture and all. For some reason, I find that surprising. What comes as no surprise is that I can see him standing over me. He still hasn't given up on me. A lesser man would. But I would never bless a lesser man with the undying love and devotion of Helga G. Pataki. My heart is something I've guarded very carefully. I made a decision long ago to lower the draw bridge for him and only him. And every day, that decision costs me a little more.

"Helga, are you okay?" Arnold asks. Every time he does this, I have trouble believing that it's real, that he can possibly care. Okay, Helga Old Girl. This is it. Looks like my hopes may have come to fruition after all. There's still a chance. It's show time.

And here we are. Sunday night is update night, so if you're reading this, it means we both made it through another week. Congratulations!

This chapter was a little stubborn in coming, but I think it's going to turn out okay once it's up there. I apologize for the last chapter. Don't get me wrong, I'm not ragging on the quality, but it had a lot of typos. I intend to quietly replace it with a much cleaner version. This is what happens when you don't really have anyone to pre-read your work. It's not that I don't have volunteers, just that I usually barely manage to get these things out in time for an update. Hopefully it will show up for you folks today, since FFN has an upgrade scheduled tonight. I was sure to submit it before the site went down, so I think it'll be okay. Anyway, sorry again about the typos. The most glaring one was at the end. Anyone who knows their Beatlespeak can tell you that the line Arnold was trying to say was "She's leaving home after living ALONE for so many years," not "living along." Oh well.

The good news about this update is it means I've finally made it to some really juicy stuff to come up in the next chapter. I'm also scared that the end of the story is coming so close. The positive reviews are starting to become a little overwhelming. I absolutely adore them all, and my ego wants them to never stop coming! It also makes the story even more personal, and I constantly obsess over trying to make it perfect. I can see that this story touches some of you personally, and that means the world to me. It makes me feel like I'm making a difference. And making a difference to you people is what got me in the fanfiction business to begin with. Knowing that it touches you helps me a lot through the bad times. There's so many demons I have to exorcise to write this thing correctly, and I'm forced to revisit some of the bad decisions I've made that I can't undo no matter how much I wish I could. I'm certain that must shine through as I continue to work with Helga. I don't know if that necessarily makes the story better or not, but I'm sure that time will tell.

I guess I should consider signing off before I start to ramble on for too long. I must find a way to thank all of you properly when the story draws to it's conclusion. Thanks to the new readers who keep finding my story and giving it a try, and to all you "old timers" who have been with me since I took my first shaky steps into this tapestry I've created. See you in seven days!

As always, send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

11/8/04

3:12 AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

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