The Sweet Hereafter: Dream Theater

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Part XXXIX: Picture If You Will

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"You will never understand

How it feels to live your life

With no meaning or control

And with nowhere else to go

You're amazed that they exist

And they burn so bright

That you can only wonder why"

--William Shatner (with Joe Jackson)

"Common People"

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Arnold surveyed the field before him, noting the empty bleachers that watched their group. Arnold stood at the plate, leaning on his bat and lightly grinding its tip into the dust, a small dirt cloud gathering at his feet. Harold's large form stood before him, the heavyset boy dominating the pitcher's mount. Sid held fast to the hot corner, with Stinky on second and his best friend Gerald on first. Rhonda stood far back in the outfield, just a few feet from the brick wall behind her. As usual, she was unwilling to risk getting any of her designer articles of clothing dirty. Even from this far away, Rhonda managed to look like a stately princess. Although Arnold had never been romantically inclined towards the wealthy and sophisticated girl, he did have to admit that she had a definitive beauty about her, though it was undeniably overshadowed by the much adored Lila Sawyer. Nadine was also staffing the outfield, although her attention was focused primarily on the differing insects that crawled in the grass of the formerly vacant lot rather than any line drives that might be headed her way. Sheen held the third and final outfield position, looking slightly anxious. Arnold didn't blame her; there was always a chance his case of "dangerous lumber" might relapse. Behind him, Eugene, squatted, looking exceptionally small behind the oversized catcher's mask and matching mitt.

Feeling confident, Arnold tapped the play with his bat a few time, then assume his batting stance. Harold's face betrayed nothing, and Arnold felt a little nervous, because he prided himself on being able to read his opponent in times like this. When the pitch did come, it was dispassionate. A big, beautiful meatball came right over the plate, a rare gift that just was most uncharacteristic of Harold's style. Arnold swung, connecting with little trouble. The ball sailed through the air too slowly for the force Arnold had put behind it. He could clearly make out the stitches on the white sphere.

"What the-?" Arnold began to comment before a looming voice interrupted him.

"This does not happen." Harold. What was going on? He was the one who had made the pitch, after all.

"Harold?" Arnold felt very confused. It sounded like Harold, and yet. . .

"Second." Sid agreed bluntly.

"Concur." Rhonda added. Arnold looked at each of them, his head turning slowly, suddenly feeling very small. The baseball dropped into Sheena's glove, and then it vanished, reappearing in Gerald's glove.

"He doesn't understand." Gerald shook his own head and thought.

"Understand what?" Arnold asked.

"Desire." Sid said calmly.

"Sorrow." Stinky spoke in his usual drawl.

"What is lost is found." Nadine's wild pigtails demanded his attention.

"You exist here." Rhonda declared softly, an image of Lila flying unbidden into Arnold's mind. Gerald Field fell away, replaced by a park bench that Arnold wished he could forget.

"I don't exist here. I hate it here!" He could still smell the stink of death, that sorrow filled afternoon when Lila had told him she only liked him as a friend. That dreadful day he had repeatedly tried to change to no avail. For a long time, Arnold had held out hope that he could change the girl's mind, particularly after he had taken her to the Cheese Festival. But his accursed cousin had proved to be his undoing. Never had Arnold seen Lila so taken with anyone as she was with Arnie. Lately, whenever Arnold felt like he was making progress with Lila; it didn't seem like very long before he was moving backwards again, just as quickly. After being crushed by Lila once more during the incident when Gerald's little sister Timberly had held a brief crush on him, he had decided to cut his losses and admit defeat. But somehow, no matter how hard he tried, he was still seeking her arms. He wasn't naïve enough to think that he was in love with her. What did he know of love, anyhow? But it was infatuation all the way. Of that, he was certain.

"You exist here." Stinky reiterated. A murmur passed through the other players on the field, and then the wind began to blow, rustling the tree branches above. Without warning, a figure fell out of the tree, just behind the bench. She was hauntingly familiar, yet somehow out of place here. The girl coughed twice, dusting herself off. No, it couldn't be! Arnold rushed over to find out if she was all right.

"Lila!" Arnold called as he ran towards his friend. She turned her head towards him, eyes lighting up at his very sight. "Lila, are you okay?"

"My name is Lulu." She grinned, proffering her hand so Arnold would help her up. He obliged, and Lulu rose to her feet, leaning against Arnold and snaking her hands up his chest. "And I'm ever so certain that I'm fine, now that you're here, Arnold."

Arnold recoiled from her touch as though bitten. "You're not real!"

"Oh, Arnold, don't be such a silly. I'm as real as you want me to be."

"Hear, hear." Sheena added.

"You create and sustain her as you see fit." Eugene accused.

Arnold swung his bat once more, knocking the oncoming baseball over the foul line. He could hear the faint calling of his grandmother from him up in the stands. "Kill the umpire!"

A little boy searched a dark house, looking for his parents. But no matter how he tried, he was lost, and they were gone. The world was dark, and he was alone and vulnerable. He longed for his mother, but it was his faithful grandfather who sheltered him. Arnold could remember growing up, his loving grandparents doing right by him, beside him every step of the way, even when his problems were beyond their help. All things said, he really had few complaints. And yet. . .it was such a basic instinct, a child's need for his parents. Was that it? Could that be the reason why Lila commanded his attention so well? She was warm, sweat, kind, and affectionate. Perhaps she was his mother reborn. This though gave Arnold pause. If this were true, then it simply wasn't fair of him to put those kinds of expectations on Lila, even if she had made it abundantly clear that she wanted to keep their relationship platonic. It suddenly felt very twisted of him to have developed an Oedipus complex on a girl his own age. She certainly had a graceful beauty about her. Her pigtails swayed with each stride she took, the simplistic blue bows commanding attention. Arnold instantly was reminded of her scene, soft and captivating. Her lips meeting his with a pucker equally strong yet gentle, and with eyes closed, he was lost in the moment, and it was good. Yet more proof that despite their inherent difference, there was always one thing they could agree upon. His eyes fluttered open to reveal the powerful form of Helga G. Pataki, fierce fighter turned lover, somehow smaller and more vulnerable now than she ever had been. Her pink hair resting atop her head like a crown, her deep eyes revealing an entirely new world within, waiting to be mapped and explored. Helga? But. . .he had been thinking about Lila, hadn't he?

"This was not the plan." Harold sighed."

"Change is inevitable." Rhonda offered.

"Yet not always for the best." Side insisted.

"Concur." Gerald chimed in. "What is sought may prove dangerous."

Nadine appeared between the two boys. "There are some things which cannot be planned. We are forced to concede to the wishes if a higher power. Even we do not hold dominion over the heart. Some choices are made that we cannot understand.

"Object!" Cried Stinky.

"Denied." Sheena shot back.

"Concur." Eugene smiled, the scenery changing once more.

Arnold now found himself implausibly running around the bases of the baseball diamond, and he felt as though his friends and schoolmates were somehow deliberating over his fate, although Arnold had extreme difficulty reconciling these people to his friends, save for their faces and voices. Arnold rounded third base, feeling out of breath, and as he ran his way to home plate, he felt himself grow fuzzy and disappear, the setting changing once more. Arnold now seemed to be sitting in the spectator stands, the bleachers entirely empty save for Phoebe sitting at the very bottom of the forty yard line, and a distorted yet familiar figure who shared his company. "H-Helga?"

Ballooned out of proportion, Helga inclined her head towards Arnold and smiled. "Hey, Football Head. I thought you had forgotten all about me."

"You're not the kind of person who is easy to forget, Helga. You want everyone to know who you are, regardless of whether they like you or not."

"Let's not get overly dramatic. I admit nothing." She winked. "So, do you like the new look?" It finally registered in Arnold's mind that Helga had widened to large proportions. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought that she. . .

"No way. Helga? Are you. . ."

"What, this thing? You know, at first I really hated the idea of being pregnant, especially when I knew that this is how I would look months later. But now I kind of like it." Helga smiled, very lightly patting her belly. "Don't get me wrong, it's still a major inconvenience. I guess it's just tough to be down on the whole thing when I'm bonded to it. This isn't just a baby. It's a part of me that's growing each day."

Arnold practically fell backwards off his seat, hearing Helga talk so flippantly about so serious a matter. "But, Helga! How did you. . .I mean. . ."

She smiled at him, giggling. "I haven't had tests run or anything, Arnold. But it has to be yours."

"Mine! But I didn't. . .we haven't. . .I know we didn't. . ."

"I know, I know! I guess it's like you said, Arnold. That was some kiss."

"This just doesn't make any sense, Helga."

"I try not to think about that too much. I like to think of it as a sign or something. Besides, speculating over it isn't going to change anything. This baby is here, and it's ours, and I am not going to ignore it. I'm going to make sure that there's always someone here to tend to our child. I won't let him or her come into the world like I did."

Still feeling very apprehensive, Arnold forced himself to slide closer to Helga, looking intently at her rounded stomach. Helga took hold of his hand and placed it against her belly. "This kid kicks all the time. I think I'm going to look into one of those youth soccer leagues when he. . .she. . .when baby is old enough to play." Helga rolled her eyes. Arnold was forced to agree, as the unborn child inside her once more pushed against its boundaries.

"Wow, Helga. . .this is. . ."

"Amazing, isn't it? Yeah, I'm a real marvel of modern medicine. I've been poked and prodded so many times it isn't funny. Doctors can't figure out how I conceived this child. They checked, and I'm still, ah, unblemished, as it were. Not that Bob would believe me. I know that it sounds crazy, that my life must be ruined or something. . .but I don't really mind. Actually, I feel pretty good about it, because I feel that my baby. . .our baby. . .is a gift. It's not like I went out and did something stupid and now I'm paying the consequence. This just happened. And even though it's going to turn my world completely upside-down, I can't bring myself to feel upset about it."

"Helga, I. . .what if this isn't my baby?!"

"I don't care where the other half of the DNA came from, Arnold. To me, this will always be our child. You're the only person I've ever. . ." She frowned, feeling uncertain. "You've always been able to see that there's more to me than I let on. You believe in me. And you know how I feel. You're about the only guy that I feel I can trust. So this child is ours. I don't need anything from you, Arnold. I don't need money or a place to stay or anything like that. You don't have to sign up for this if you don't want to. I'll survive, I always have."

"I wasn't trying to say that I didn't want responsibility." Arnold sighed. "It's just, I didn't want you to get your hopes up."

Helga laughed. "Hope isn't something I really keep in abundance. Most of my life, I've felt pretty hopeless."

"This is a lot to absorb, Helga."

"I know. Being a mother. . .or a father. . .I'm just so desperate to get it right. I realize that I have so much resentment built up inside me towards my own parents. All my life, I feel like I've been ignored by them. I don't want our child to go through that. I want to be the best mother the world has ever seen."

"I think most people think like that. Parenthood is one of those things in life that lots of people do, and no one has figured out the master plan to. Everyone just muddles through as best they can."

"Or lurch sluggishly, as the case may be." Helga rolled her eyes, as she thought of Miriam nursing a smoothie.

"We'll make it."

"That's the old pepper."

"So when are you expecting?"

"Sometime next month. If it is yours, I wonder if it'll have your head."

"What's wrong with my head?"

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it! Criminey!"

"Well, usually it's pretty high up on your list of things to tease me about."

"Right. So having two of you would just sweeten the pot."

"You definitely were wired differently than any other girl I know, Helga."

"Yeah, well, I try to make everyone's day a little more surreal. I've never been much for hearts and flowers and horses and all that stuff."

"Y'know, now that I think about it, you usually hung out with us guys."

"I can relate to boys better. What's your point?"

"It's funny how I never noticed that before."

"That's because we girls are smarter than you. One of the many advantages to being born a woman. I figure I should exploit it for all it's worth, right?

"Don't take this the wrong way, Helga, but really, I don't think I've ever seen you act like a girl."

"Well, I'm not big on stereotypes, Arnoldo. I also think that painting my nails and powdering my face is not only achingly dull, but a colossal waste of times. They all just do it to get attention anyway. Doesn't make you very original if everyone else is doing it, though, now does it?"

"I've never really thought of it like that before, Helga. Actually, I guess I'm not very good at understanding girls."

"That's okay. I would never be able to trust a man if he could."

"And just what's that supposed to mean?" Arnold asked.

"If you have to ask, I'm not telling you. You'll have to ask him."

"Him? What are you talking about?"

"Your grandfather, Arnold. Doi!" Helga clapped her hands twice, and the world seemed to melt around Arnold. . .

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Arnold sat bolt upright in bed, his heart beating rapidly. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, taking in his surroundings. Everything seemed to appear as he had left it. His alarm clock was still set for school. 3:27AM. Still several hours before he had to get up. Yawning, Arnold threw the covers aside and slid out of bed, deciding he desperately needed to raid the kitchen. On the second floor, he quietly crept past the doors of the various rooms that the boarding house occupants rented. Stepping over the creaky floorboard that lay just outside the water closet, Arnold padded down the stairs, reaching the ground floor. The light in the kitchen was on, which seemed odd. Sure enough, Arnold could hear the unmistakable sound of Phil rummaging around in the refrigerator, singing one of his favorite ditties. "Oh, you beautiful doll, you great big beautiful doll. . ."

"Grandpa?" Arnold asked, stepping into the light.

"Huh? Whazzat?" Phil asked, interrupting his musical interlude to peek his head out of the fridge. "Oh, it's only you, Short Man. Don't scare me like that! I thought you were Pookie!"

"Not last I checked, Grandpa, but I'll let you know if anything changes in that department."

"Right. Now what are you doing out of bed at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep." Arnold said as he crossed the distance to the cabinet which contained a canister with all the necessary ingredients for making hot chocolate. He pushed it aside, digging deeper into the cupboard and pulling out a second canister that was made of much darker and richer flavor. Arnold removed a mug from the rack and poured a very generous amount of the powder into it, then he filled a teakettle up with water, placing it on the range so it would boil. "I. . .I had this really weird dream, Grandpa. It was pretty unsettling."

"Well, what was it about?"

"Baseball. And. . .other stuff. It was really confusing. I can't really keep track of it all. Everything was happening so fast. I think I might even have been a father!" Arnold said with exasperation as he collapsed into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Phil banged his head on one of the shelves in the fridge after hearing his grandson's explanation.

"Now Arnold, you don't want to be getting too far ahead of yourself. You kids just start everything so fast today! You've got to let us Baby Boomers keep up!" He laughed. Arnold chuckled as well, over the way Phil occasionally liked to pretend that he was younger than he really was. Not that his grandfather wasn't spry. He could still take on most of the parents in his neighborhood, as he had showed just a few months ago. Although Arnold had no idea how long he was going to live, he held out the hope that he would be as spirited and able-bodied as his grandparents when he reached their age.

"Believe me Grandpa, I have no intention of getting that far ahead. I think I'm a long way of before worrying about having kids of my own. I don't even have much luck with the ladies."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure now. Y'know Short Man, your father used to say the same thing. I remember, I used to tell him that he shouldn't go gallivanting around the world when he hadn't even found that special lady yet. But he turned it around on me! Heh heh, told me it was the perfect reason to go off. He didn't have anything holding him here, and he wanted to help others. So off he went. And he sure showed me, didn't he? If he had taken my advice, he might never have met Stella, and you wouldn't be here today. Shows you what I know, doesn't it?"

"I don't know, Grandpa. Sometimes your advice really helps."

"I try my best. I suppose that's all anyone can do. Life is a lot like throwing darts. Sometimes you get lucky. And other times, you end up leaving a big hole in your wall. That's why I stick to Chinese Checkers and Parcheesi."

"Lately, my entire life feels like a game of chess, Grandpa. And I think I've lost sight of my next move. I don't even know whose turn it us. I'm just. . .you know when you have this idea of someone in your head? And you think you know them, and you know what to expect from them? And then, all of a sudden, they go and do something that completely shatters your illusions. And now I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Everything seems different now."

"Well. . ." Phil began, stretching out the syllables as he formulated his answer. ". . .as I recall, I once found myself in the same situation when I was a little older than you. There was this one person who just up and did a complete one-eighty on me one day, and I wasn't able to figure it out for the life of me. To this day, I just can't help but wonder what it was I did to bring about such a change in attitude."

"Was it one of your friends?"

"No, it was your Grandma. I remember she used to make my life miserable when I was your age. She did everything she could to drive me crazy, let me tell you. But, well, I guess things change. And my life might've turned out a lot differently if she weren't in it. Every day, we all get a little older, and supposedly a little wiser. Course, the tradeoff is that you get a little closer to baldness." Phil winked. "I guess what I'm trying to say, Arnold, is that change is just another one of those strange parts of growing up that we don't have all that much control over. I guess the truth is, what you really have to do is just roll with the punches. Every day in that school of yours, they try and teach you something new, right? Make the most of that, Short Man. Learn something new for yourself."

"I learned a lot this weekend. And maybe I'll learn more over time."

"Good."

A whistling began to pierce the air, and Arnold jumped out of his seat to shut the kettle off and pour his beverage. He stirred the mug several times, then took a deep sip, despite the scalding temperature. The disturbing images of Helga with child still haunted him. Scarier still was the fact that he hadn't been completely uncomfortable around her. Yeah, maybe it was time he definitely swore off women for awhile. "Thanks Grandpa." Arnold smiled.

"Don't mention it. You just be mindful of your little friend there, Short Man. You never know when she might turn your life upside-down. Now, best get back to bed when you're finished."

"Okay. G'night, Grandpa."

"Good night, Arnold." Phil smiled as he made his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Arnold sat quietly in the kitchen, snapshots of this entire weekend replaying through his mind, and memories of the stories his grandfather had told him about his parents over the years. Things did have a habit of changing, hopefully for the better. And perhaps if he was patient, he would see that change in Helga as well.

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Okay, this chapter is a wee bit shorter than usual, but I have my reasons. First of all, for those not in the know, FFN is not going to be available for uploading between Sunday and Tuesday. This meant that I only had a few options. I could've held this over, but then everyone would be updating at once. I had my fill of that this week. It's incredible to see such activity going on in the fanfiction community, but it also means that my story got buried in the heap, which was disappointing for me since the last update was the climax. So I nixed that idea. I could've just held out an extra week, but I didn't want to put the story behind schedule. So, I've decided on just releasing this a little early. I'll trust in you all to review it anyway. So, enjoy! But don't think this means you aren't obligated to tell me how I'm doing. I'm demanding that way.

I realize that this chapter was very weird and cryptic in many places. Let me assure you that it was entirely on purpose. A lot of the dream was an homage to "Deep Space Nine," so I admit you probably have to be a fan of that show to fully appreciate it. However, I did work to ensure that I keep everything within the context of the story. The last thing that I want to do is start boring people.

Even so, the story STILL has not reached its conclusion. I still have a good two chapters in me. I'm excited to unveil the work for next week, but I guess you'll have to wait for that. I don't want to give anything away, so I'll just tell you that I've decided to call the next chapter "Rainy Days And Mondays."

I'm still pleased to see that people are continuing to find the story that haven't been with it from the beginning. Welcome aboard. It's good to have you with me. I can only hope you'll still remember my story after it has reached its conclusion and there's no more to tell. But in the meantime, stay with me for the rest of the flight. I've still got a few loops and dives to throw your way.

I'm guessing this is as good a place as any to stop. I shall return next week, at the usual time, unless FFN is going to be difficult again. Until then, keep the reviews, e-mails, and instant messages coming! And as always, send your questions, comments, compliments, complaints, love letters, death threats, marriage proposals, and ransom demands to:

Lord Malachite

11/20/04

3:11AM, EST

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

AIM: Asukaphile26