How's everybody doing out there? I'm just dandy. Ha! Ha! I love saying that word! Moving on, I had no idea what I wanted to do for this chapter. Misconception kind of left me at a standstill, but then I had this great idea. It probably won't take effect until later on in this story. I don't think I'll be doing anymore dream sequences; they were just a little too complicated for me. I did really like writing them though so there's a small possibility I could do another one, but very unlikely. To all of those who reviewed wanting to know what the meaning of the dreams, you won't find the answer in this chapter. That will come later in the story. Okay, I need to stop before I give out the rest of my ideas for the fic. Here goes nothing; the last chapter was there to set things up for later on in the story. This chapter is here to get things ready for the next chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold!. All the characters and content belong to Craig Bartlett. I also don't own any characters of The Lion King (small reference).
Thanks to all of those who have reviewed:
Estel fuga: You know, I agree, Helga should face her fears. But the question is will she? I'm not revealing anything about my ideas for later on. I loved that you were surprised by this story. I was too when I was writing it. :) Thanks for the review.
iluvarnold: I hope it didn't get too confusing. I tried to make it an easy read, but I don't think I did too well. Yeah, both of them had the same dream at the same time together. You need to read that last statement aloud to understand it. I'm sorry you didn't like the whole marriage thing, but remember it was only a dream. You never know it could be an outlook into the future or it could not. HeHeHe… Tell me what you would like to happen. I really don't mind. I would love suggestions. Thanks for the review.
BellaMay76: I heard from someone on the Internet that Arnolds last name was Vineland (Yes I know that is the same as the street the boarding house is on.) I didn't really like that so I used my own. Glad you liked it. I never even thought about Short. Good creative thinking! :) Thanks for reviewing
AllieCat1- Thanks for the email. That was sweet. I'm happy you like the idea for the story. I was trying hard to use something that hasn't been done yet. I think you're doing a great job on your story. Everybody needs to go check out "Love isn't Enough"
Ms. Frosty- I am so happy you thought it was that good. I was really nervous about what people would think about it. I'm not telling you if you're right or wrong. You'll find out some time later on in the story. Please don't be sorry. I love when people give me their ideas about my writing. You really paid attention to the story. I didn't even notice the weather change. Ha! Ha! I'm just kidding, I did, but only when I had finished writing it. Thanks for paying attention to all the details. Let me know what you think of this chapter.
maya jade- Ohhh… I love your ideas. I don't know what is going to happen. You'll just have to find out later. :)
Tinánia Legolinde- Wow I can't wait for your fic to come out. You'll have to email me and tell me more about it. I have friend who loves Orlando Bloom too. She could probably challenge you for his love. LOL. Thanks for reviewing.
wandavicky-magic- Thanks for the nice review. :)
Chapter 5: Momentarily Open
"Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold!"
Automatically, Arnold's eyes popped open at the sound of his name. Without looking, his hand found the buzzing alarm clock and turned it off with a few aggressive strikes of the fist. Arnold groaned softly not wanting to leave the comfort of his plush pillow. Gradually, starting with his legs, then torso with two arms following Arnold raised himself out of bed. Stretching his body, he reluctantly began his trip to the bathroom.
All of the boarders, including Arnold, shared one bathroom that occupied the second floor of Sunset Arms. When Arnold arrived at this destination it did not surprise him to see a line waiting. Taking a long breath, Arnold became irritated with himself for not waking earlier. You'd think my grandparents owning the boarding house would give me an advantage when it came to stuff like this. Painfully, he crossed his legs trying to ignore the sharp urge coming from between them.
"Hel-lo Arn-old," greeted Mr. Hyunh, an Asian immigrant who had occupied a room at the boarding house for more than nine years, "I need to talk to you ab-out tile that needs to be re-placed. I pay you one dol-lar."
"Okay, I'll come look at it tomorrow," Arnold answered, used to the never ending list of tasks from the tenants.
"Hey Arnold," addressed Oskar Kokoshka, "I needed to talk to you about rent. You see I didn't do that well at the horse races this week so I thought you could ask your grandpa if I could be a little late paying this month?"
"He already told me to tell you no, Oskar," replied Arnold not needing to contemplate the request.
"Stubborn, old ox," Oskar muttered referring to Arnold's grandpa.
"What was that?" Arnold asked.
"What was what? Oh that," Oskar chuckled innocently, "I was just saying how nice your grandpa is."
"Whatever you say Oskar," Arnold responded trying to mask the grin unfolding on his face. With a tired heap Arnold leaned against the wooden wall with his legs still crossed at the hip. I got to go, I got to go, Arnold thought no longer able to neglect the irritating sensation in his pants.
After thirty minutes Arnold held the next position to enter the bathroom.
Creak!
Twisting open, the door exposed to reveal a barely dried Oskar wrapped waist down in a cotton towel.
"You might want to unclog the drain in the sink. I had some problems shaving my chest," Oskar told Arnold who grimaced at the statement.
"Hey Kokoshka, you got somethin' growing on your head," laughed Ernie who stood behind Arnold.
"Where?!" Oskar looked up searching his hair frantically. With Oskar distracted Ernie tugged down at the bearded man's towel leaving nothing to the overseer's imaginations.
"Aghhh!" Oskar speedily bent down grasping the towel that had fallen to the floor and yanked it back up.
Laughter filled the silent hallway of Sunset Arms as the boarders felt no sympathy for the man that had cheated them out of their money many times before.
Chuckling softly, Arnold watched as Mr. Kokoshka ran down the hallway towards his room with his bare behind still left agape to the viewing public.
"I didn't know Kokoshka had a mole on his butt shaped like Dino Spamoni," Ernie commented, "C'mon Arnold, get a move on, some of us got stuff to do."
Gazing down, Arnold noticed an annoyed expression on the stout man's face.
"Oh sorry, Ernie, I'll only take a minute." Arnold hurriedly walked into the bathroom closing the tattered door behind him.
Stepping, out of the shower Arnold captured his face in the mirror above the sink. Do I really look that pale? It's got to be from lack of sleep. He stared intensely into eyes that looked menacingly back at his tired complexion. What's the matter with me? Why is that dream getting to me so much? His mind withdrew the images that had haunted his thoughts for the past ten hours. What did I do to her? Why did she leave me? Aggravated with himself, he shook his head rapidly causing his golden hair to dangle over his face. This should just prove to me its time I move on. Helga will never love me. Pain overcame his chest, he hated facing the truth, but how long could he continue to lie to himself?
Pounding echoed through slated walls interrupting Arnold's chain of thoughts.
"I'm growin' old out here Arnold. Speed it up or I'm gonna be late!" Ernie hollered.
"I'm coming out right now!" Arnold answered swiftly pulling on his layer of clothes. Steam evaporated out the door as he walked from the bathroom.
"It's about time," Ernie grumbled not trying to mask is impatience with the young boy.
What's wrong with him? Arnold thought, he's not usually in a bad mod. Ernie Potts displayed a tough exterior, but once broken down he disclosed a very serene disposition. He's kind of like Helga. Arnold began walking downstairs to the kitchen. No! I'm not going to think about her! I need to forget about her. But look at Ernie, his heart ventilated speeding up its beats. This battle always emerged inside of Arnold; his mind versus his heart and his heart consistently prevailed.
An aroma mixed with burnt bacon and stale toast drifted through the downstairs coming from the dimly lit kitchen. Arnold's nostrils flared when they encountered the repulsing scent.
"Hey Shortman," greeted Arnold's grandpa as he read the newspaper not bothered by the stench.
"Morning Grandpa." Rising to his toes Arnold reached for the cereal that sat inside the top cabinet.
"Hello Simba," Arnold's grandma spoke with a cat-like quality concealed in her frail voice. Wearing a lion's costume complete with a tangled mane that overlapped her gray hair she stood on both feet near the stove. This did not strike Arnold as odd to see his grandmother dressed as a mighty beast of the Pride lands, since before he could remember she had always had a unique way of expressing herself. "How about wildebeest for breakfast? A young cub needs his strength for a tiring day."
"No thanks Grandma. I'm just going to play it safe today and eat some cereal," Arnold answered patting his grandma on her head slightly.
"Grrrrrowl," Grandma hissed revealing her dentures as she bounded away from Arnold on to the wobbly table.
"Pooky! You're getting lion hair in my oatmeal!" cried Grandpa Phil. Ignoring her husband, she began licking her unshaved arm. Then, she leapt off the table falling on to all fours and embarked on her chase for Arnold's pig, Abner. Immediately, squealing resounded though the kitchen communicating to everyone in ear distance that Grandma's hunt showed to be successful.
"Grandma!" Arnold called worried for his pet's safety.
"Let her go Shortman. Better her be chasing that darn pig than shedding on my oatmeal," Phil told Arnold as he picked a short strand of hair out of his bowl, a disgusted expression piled to his sunken face. Taking a seat opposite from his grandpa Arnold set his cereal on the floral placemat in front of him.
"Grandpa."
"Hmmm…" Phil replied still engaged in his newspaper.
"I just kind of had this problem…" Arnold trailed off rethinking his decision to talk to his grandpa about Helga. What is he going to say that will help me?
"Spit it out Arnold. I'm trying to read this story," Phil said rubbing his fingers together, "Darn newspaper ink."
"What's the story about?" Arnold asked glad to change the topic.
"Hm, oh, some crazy, bafoon named Scheck wants to come look at our neighborhood, trying to find a place to build some mall."
"Sounds interesting." Arnold stated disinterest plaguing him.
"What's getting to you?" Phil questioned hearing the discomfort breaking in his grandson's voice.
"This girl at school."
"Ohh, Arnold's got a little girlfriend," teased Phil setting Hillwood News on his lap.
"Yeah, you see, I really lo-"Phil interrupted him abruptly.
"Hold on Shortman. Grandma must of put berries in my oatmeal. I know you're goin' through a hard time, but the only advice I can give you is never eat raspberries!" The eighty-one year old man dashed to his secret bathroom in the basement. Arnold sighed dumping his leftover milk down the drain, that wasn't much help.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
"Simba!" Grandma called from the main entrance. Arnold hurried to the entrance where his grandma held the phone in her dull fangs, "The pride is calling you."
"Thanks Grandma," he said wiping the receiver on his blue sweater before placing it to his ear.
"Hello."
"Hey, man, it's me Gerald."
"Oh, hey, what's up?"
"What do you want to do today?"
"I don't know, hadn't thought about it," Arnold replied as he watched his grandma pursue Oskar nipping him on his behind slightly. As if that butt hasn't seen enough action today, Arnold shook his head smiling to himself.
"Hey Arnold, you still there?"
"Uh-huh."
"Why don't we go to the park and shoot some hoops. Plus, I heard from Rhonda, Phoebe would be there."
Arnold processed the suggestion through his brain for a moment. With Phoebe always followed…Helga and I'm trying to forget about her.
"No, let's do something else," Arnold stated.
"Like what?"
"Uhh.."
"That's what I thought. I'll meet you at the park in thirty," Gerald said satisfied with himself as he hung up the phone not waiting for his friend's response.
Leaving the living room Gerald started walking towards his room when his little sister, Timberly, stepped in his path.
"What are you doing?" she asked grinning politely.
"Nothing. Get out of my way," Gerald answered impatiently trying to step around her, but each time he did so she mimicked his movements.
"Yes you are. I just heard you talking to Arnold," she said with a lovesick smile as she said his name.
"We're going to the park."
"To do what?"
"None of your business!"
"You d-don't have to yell," Timberly cried rubbing a fake tear from her eye.
Gerald exhaled feeling a small amount of compassion for his sister, "We're going to play some ball."
"Ohhh," Timberly said excitedly, "Can I come?"
"No."
"Why not?!"
"'Cause you'll just get in the way." Gerald pushed his sister down tired of speaking to her. He ran up the stairs slamming his door before Timberly came in. Through the door Gerald clearly heard Timberly yelling for his mother.
"Aww, she's such a pain," he stated to himself. From underneath his bed he grabbed his basketball and walked out of his bedroom.
"Gerald!" his mom yelled from the kitchen.
Timberly, Gerald thought at once.
"I'm coming!" Grudgingly, he advanced to the demanding lecture of his mother.
"Now Gerald Johansson, you need to be nice to your sister," Mrs. Johansson said exasperated as she put away dishes.
"But Mom-"
"No buts. Ask your sister if she wants to go to the park with you." Timberly stood beside her mother satisfaction written on her face.
Gerald's expression drooped, "Timberly would you care to come to the park with me," he asked through clenched teeth.
"No," she said pleasantly, "I think I want to play with my dolls instead." She turned away and skipped to her room leaving two agitated people in the kitchen. I'm going to get her so bad, Gerald thought forming his hand into a fist.
"Alright Gerald you can go now," him mom told him. He glanced quickly at the microwave clock, already ten minutes late. Saying good-bye to his mother he sprinted out the front door carrying the basketball in his left hand.
~*~*
Both girls sat together on a splintered bench hushed from the immersing thoughts that inhabited their minds. Helga's eyes penetrated the cement sidewalk. Even though Phoebe had verbalized that dreams are nothing but your inner self talking, Helga still experienced a nervous anxiety overwhelming her body. What if it means something bad is going to happen to me and Arnold, but it's not like anything good has ever happened between us. Her face darkened leaving an empty scowl.
"You're still pondering that dream aren't you?" Phoebe broke the silence looking at Helga.
"So?" Helga challenged turning away from her friend's knowing gaze.
"So, I must conclude you're still worried," Phoebe assumed bringing her hand to a resting spot on Helga's shoulder.
"Yeah, I mean no, well sort of," Helga thought about that answer for a moment before adding, "I guess so." She forced her crystal eyes to meet Phoebe's. I need help, Phoebs.
For the first time, Phoebe recognized a hurt vividness in Helga's eyes that she had never seen before. It reminded Phoebe of little girl who's passion for life had been broken and now she had nothing live for. An insignificant tear rolled down her cheek, then, it was accompanied by others.
"Oh Helga!" Phoebe blubbered wrapping her squat arms around Helga's stiff body.
"Phoebe what are you doing? Get off of me before I sock you!" A shocked feeling engulfed Helga head to toe. Being touched showed hard for her because usually it didn't happen. Feeling claustrophobic…
"I'm just so thrilled that you've chosen me to open yourself up to!" Phoebe squealed as water now sprinkled from her brown eyes at an alarming rate.
"Aw, Phoebs, come on. It's not that big of a deal," Helga stifled a laugh, but then reflected on what she had told Phoebe of her most secretive assumptions about the dream. Is Phoebe right? Am I, Helga G. Pataki, really beginning to open up? But it seemed almost too easy. Helga looked toward Phoebe and caste a genuine smile at her friend. Thanks.
"Helga are you okay?" Phoebe asked cautiously observing the faraway look in Helga's eyes.
"What-yeah. I mean of course I'm okay. Just because I give you the smallest hint of what the depths of my soul are feeling doesn't mean I feel like I ate a bad hippo!" Helga folded her arms across her chest triumphantly. Just because I open myself up doesn't mean I have to change who I am.
"Whatever you say Helga."
"Oh and Phoebe, this conversation never took place."
"Forgetting."
"Hey Phoebe," Gerald grinned. His smile faded after he caught sight of the pigtail headed girl with a unibrow sitting at Phoebe's side. "Helga."
Turning their eyes upward they saw a dark faced boy standing in front of their bench holding a dirty basketball.
"What a pleasure it is to see you today," Phoebe greeted shyly.
"What do you want Geraldo?" Helga inquired coldly.
"Nice to see you too Helga," Gerald replied sarcastically.
"Are you going to go play basketball?" Folding her hands on her lap delicately Phoebe tried to hide her fidgetiness from Gerald.
"Nope, just wanted to see your beautiful face on this gorgeous afternoon," Gerald commented with a smooth tone enfolding his voice. Phoebe's face crimsoned to a deep red out of embarrassment from the remark. Helga rolled her eyes at the pair. They've always had this thing for each other since that darn Cheese Festival.
"Oh, please Geraldo, I've heard better come' ons from a dead cow." Helga frowned, but cackled softly at her joke.
"You're just jealous Helga," Gerald retorted moving closer to Phoebe.
"In your dreams Tall Hair Boy," Helga returned.
"Not mine, yours Helga," Gerald clicked his tongue at her, then adverted his attention back to Phoebe; "Actually, I'm waiting for Arnold. We're supposed to go play some ball."
"That sounds enlightening," Phoebe beamed.
~*~*
Gerald, where are you? Standing next to the entrance of Hillwood Park Arnold watched intently for his friend. Irritation flooded him, why isn't he here? His legs grew fatigued; I'll wait for him on one of the benches inside. Annoyance fled from Arnold when he sighted Gerald chatting with two unidentified girls sitting on a shaded bench, but as he walked closer he realized the girls were Phoebe and Helga. I don't want to see Helga.
Simultaneously, Gerald, Phoebe, and Helga looked towards Arnold's direction. Arnold swiftly occulted himself behind a thick tree trunk. What am I going to do? His practical thinking invaded his thoughts; all you're going to do is walk calmly to Gerald, get him, and then walk to the basketball courts. You don't even have to say a word to Helga. Taking a deep breath Arnold stepped away from the protection of the tree and resumed his walking towards Gerald.
"Hey man!" Gerald announced when he saw Arnold coming towards him.
"C'mon, Gerald let's go play," Arnold implored when he reached the three.
"Hold up a minute," Gerald said resuming his conversation with Phoebe.
"What, you don't even say hello anymore Football Head," Helga chastised. Oh my love, how sweet you look today. A dazed look glazed over her eyes as she watched her love god turn her way. If you were mine and I was yours, oh, how wonderful life would be. Phoebe nudged Helga slightly, knocking her back in to reality.
"Hello Helga, hi Phoebe," Arnold said putting emphasis on Helga's name.
"Greetings Arnold," Phoebe chimed. Helga punctured Arnold with a disapproving stare.
"Somebody's in a sour mood," tantalized Helga.
"Like you should be talking," Arnold replied. I need to get away from her.
"C'mon Phoebe, let's go take a walk." Gerald suggested wanting to leave the hostile atmosphere.
"That would be delightful," Phoebe answered. Her heart leapt for joy at the chance to spend time with Gerald.
"But Gerald--," Arnold started.
"We'll be back in five minutes," Gerald cut Arnold off, "Just wait here."
"Phoebe, you can't go. I don't want to be stuck here with hair boy," Helga cried pointing her thumb at Arnold.
"We'll be right back, I promise," Phoebe said; her eyes glowing with happiness. Before another word could be discussed Gerald and Phoebe began walking away with their hands connected together.
Loneliness filled Helga, maybe I am jealous. Maybe I want someone to care for me like that. She captured a quick glance at Arnold who sat on the opposite side of the bench.
Arnold could feel Helga's glare on him. He longed to say something, but what could he say that wouldn't activate a hateful backlash of words? I should just walk away. Something prevented Arnold from standing; something powerful urged him to stay.
"Arnold," Helga spoke timidly, afraid of how he would react.
"Yeah."
"What's the matter with you? You seem, I don't know, not yourself. I mean its not like I really want to know or anything. I was just wondering that's all." Helga shut her eyes tightly not wanting her kindness to be rejected.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me Helga," Arnold looked at Helga with a gaze that caused her to melt.
"I don't need your permission Arnoldo," Helga said roughly, but then with a more compassionate voice she added, "So, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think it's because I didn't get much sleep last night," Arnold responded beginning to relax in Helga's presence.
"Why didn't you get much sleep?"
"Umm, I had this, uhh, dream?" Arnold stuttered.
"Crimeny, is that all Football Head? I mean what was the dream about?" Helga said trying to stay interested.
"It was more like a nightmare. I was getting married to this, er, girl and with no warning she ran out on me. It was crazy because before she left me at the alter everything seemed—."
"Perfect," Helga finished.
"Exactly," Arnold sighed, his heart throbbed reliving every torturing moment in his mind.
"That's just creepy," Helga couldn't believe how similar Arnold's dream resembled her's.
"Why?"
"Because Football Head, I had the same dream except I was the girl who ran out on the guy." Water appeared in her eyes as she remembered the way Arnold's face hurt when she ran away from him.
"That's weird," Arnold agreed.
Silence filled the space between them. Both were trying to figure out what was going on. Had fate played a trick on them?
"Arnold, who was the girl?" Helga asked slowly saying each word in her head before repeating it to him. Please let it be me.
"I, it, --," Arnold stammered, but Gerald interrupted him.
"Let's go Arnold." Gerald hit him in the head with the basketball. From the ground Arnold stared at Helga desperately, Say something, please anything.
"What are you waiting for Hair Boy, I don't want you here anymore," she glared at Arnold intensely, frustration returning to her blue eyes. I'm so sorry my love, but it isn't right. She choked back tears as she turned her gaze to Phoebe, "Thanks for coming back. I've had better conversations with a mule giving birth."
Anything but that, Arnold's head sunk down as he pushed himself from the hard cement.
"Alright Gerald, lets go."
"It was fun Phoebe," Gerald teased causing Phoebe's face to flush again.
"What did you do with Tall Hair Boy?" Helga's face gleamed with curiosity as she tried to hide her disappointment from Arnold's departure.
"Oh nothing. He's just joking around. Anyway, I apologize for leaving you like that, but I'm sure it wasn't that bad."
"No it wasn't that bad Phoebe except for the whole time he bugged the heck out of me."
A/N: I have finally finished this chapter. I absolutely hated writing it. Like I said this chapter needs to be here for the next chapter to work. Thanks for reading. Leave reviews please. Give me suggestion, opinions, etc. I love reading what you have to say. If you don't like this chapter, I understand because I don't like it either. :)