Well, I said I'd have the next chapter up in 48 hours; hopefully,
I've done that, but I'm not sure of the exact time. Anyway, here it is, the
chapter where Lila dumps Arnold, and I mean really dumps him. We also get a
look inside her. I'm no Lila hater, but of course she has a dark side; we
all do. I'm sure it'll be better than the previous chapter; imo it could
hardly be worse.
Speaking of the previous chapter, I am overwhelmed at the response; it's tied for my personal record for the most reviews per chapter, and has resulted in my now having an average of 6 reviews per chapter. Your reviews have been very kind and forgiving, with one exception; I got my first flame, yay! To address the flame first, thank you borg. The course of no one's fanfic writing career should run smooth, and you've done your part to ensure that such would be the case with me. You're right; that last chapter was a piece of trash (which surprised even me as I'm usually the resident prude), I do seem to be on here typing stories every hour, and I do need to get a life. I will take your advice under advisement and act accordingly. Vladivostock, read on to find out. Houkanno Yuuhou, I too had reservations about the sex parts; as I just said I'm usually the resident prude and I'm shocked, shocked, that I turned out stuff like that. Maybe I should make what happens less obvious, I dunno. That said, I agree with you that Helga at almost 13 might have had just such a dream, sex and all. As to Ruth being a soprano, it was because she seemed to me to have the highest voice of the four of them; confirming my opinion would be a good reason to watch my tape of Arnold's Valentine again. I wonder what my grandmother Ruth would think, hoo boy. n8, thanks, I changed the rating to PG. Starry Nights, thanks. JESS, read on to find out what Lila does. J.T., thanks, I will trust your judgment as I am on record as saying you're perceptive. cass, thank you too. veggie5, thanks and I hope you explore the many other HA! fics on here. There's a lot of excrement, but there's also a lot of cream, which is starting to be collected at Gerald's Library. I'd recommend stuff by Simmer, Anne, Heidi Pataki, Starry Nights, Yardbird9, dutch tulips / Queen of Hearts, littlepinkbook, and I just know I'm leaving out many of my favorites. Just look around; you'll find the quality stuff. And now, to the work.
Hey Arnold! is created, copyrighted, & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. Tell Me On a Sunday, from the musical of the same name, was written by Don Black and composed by and performed under the direction of Andrew Lloyd Webber 1980. And I've no idea who currently holds the copyright to Monty Python.
Comes the dawn. Sunday morning, the day certain seismic shifts are to find their way to a certain football-headed hero. The indications of what awaits that afternoon are few that morning. Lila is tight-lipped, Helga is in rather a disheveled condition, and anyone else who knows what's going down has expressions in varying degrees of inscrutability.
The morning hours pass without incident. Those who go to church do so, those who stay home do that. And those who normally go for an outing --- to the lake, or to Hawk Mountain, or just on a car trip --- carry on their usual Sunday morning routine as though nothing is out of the ordinary. How little anyone knows.
One o'clock, a time on the shank of the afternoon though long enough after noon that those who have been elsewhere have time to return home and partake of Sunday dinner. By this time a certain group has been meeting at the Sunset Arms Boarding House for some time. It is a tension-filled meeting; Helga is even more on edge than she usually is, so much so that Arnold and Gerald have no trouble picking up on it. Nervous? That might be one word for it.
Fast forward half an hour. It's now...
"Hey Arnold, it's 1:30 man. You might want to start getting ready now."
"Yeah, don't want to be late for your date with Liiiii-la!"
"It's not a date, Helga. She just wants me to meet her so we can talk."
Meanwhile, the subject of said conversation is out and about well in advance of her rendezvous in the park. If she started walking now, she would get there with some time to spare; but she wasn't in the mood to start walking there just yet. She had left her home early because she had thinking to do, a lot of thinking.
After walking about for a while, she found her feet taking her to that alley, the place where it all started. Step. Step. Step. To the wall at the end of the alley.
And there it was.
"Arnold loves Lila"
Everything they had gone through, everything through which they had yet to go, all of it could be traced directly to that. She hadn't even thought of Arnold in that way until she saw it, and was encouraged by Rhonda and Nadine to think in that direction. Nor had he thought of her in that way, as he had later told her. Whoever had written those three words had indeed sown the wind.
Lila pondered the writing, trying to fathom who had written it and why. Desire for her and Arnold to get together? Or merely a cruel prank, one the reverberations of which sounded forth to this day, and beyond.
Why? she wondered. why did you do this to us, whoever you are? What did I ever do to you? And Arnold, whatever could he have done? What could deserve all the hurt we've gone through, all the hurt that lies ahead? She was angry now, hurt and angry. Tears of anger started to fall, clouding her vision. She could feel it, emotions she knew she had but which she usually kept bottled up inside. And for good reason; she feared that side of her. If she lost control, she didn't want to think about what could happen. But now it possessed her. In her blind fury, she knew she had to take it out on something. Appending blame for her state to the wall before her, she charged it, coming to a stop inches from it. Then, the fists. Silently, she struck out at the personification of her foe. Then, the fog cleared from her eyes and her head, and she saw it.
Chalk dust.
Not unexpected, considering this sign was written in chalk, but it was enough to make her step back and look again. A lock of hair strayed over her forehead, partially blocking her view. She brushed it aside, and that's when she saw it.
Why hadn't she noticed before?
The writing was different.
The first two words were written in elegant cursive, which was appropriate to the care that had evidently gone into the heart design surrounding the lettering. But the last word, her name, was written in manuscript. Not even good manuscript, but like it was written in a hurry. Like an afterthought.
An afterthought, she thought, is that all I am?
And the dust, dust where another name had been, one rubbed out to make room for the "afterthought". There wasn't enough for her to try to make out what the other name could have been, just enough to let her know that it had been there.
beep beep
On instinct, her wrist swiveled in front of her face. 1:45. If she left now, she'd be there on time. Couldn't be late, not her, not Miss Perfect. Oh yes, she had heard it, and before Brainy had mentioned it too.
Brainy. What was it about him? Why did she keep thinking about him? Oh well.
One thing she had already learned from him: keep a package of tissues on hand. The package she had with her now went into play, as she set about removing evidence of her tantrum. Two tissues, and the blood was gone from her knuckles. A stop by a drinking fountain to soak her knuckles, a little cream from her purse, and the job was done.
And now, for Arnold.
Arnold was approaching the park, accompanied by Gerald. Helga had chosen not to come; she had said something about doing something with Phoebe, at which Gerald had taken silent interest. He couldn't figure out what Phoebe saw in Helga.
"Well, here we are man."
"Thanks for coming with me Gerald."
"Hey, I had to give you a sendoff for whatever's going to happen. You sure you don't want me hangin' around?"
"Better not, Gerald. Lila just said she wanted to talk with me, y'know?"
"Yeah, I getcha. You take care." And with a thumb wiggle, he was on his way.
Helga too was on her way, to the park. Accompanying or accompanied by Phoebe, it was a tossup as ostensibly Phoebe was the one with a reason for being here. They approached from the same direction Lila did, so of course they noticed Lila's little ablution.
"Hey, Pheebs, what's she doing?"
"It appears that she is wiping her hands. I'm not sure why; I'm not close enough."
"And now she's doing something in that drinking fountain."
"Perhaps she's washing her hands."
"Make a note to remind me not to drink out of that fountain next time we're here."
"Making."
"And now she's doing something with some cream. Hah, I guess being Miss Perfect is higher maintenance than I'd thought."
Many thoughts came into Phoebe's mind about how there might be more to Lila than Helga was willing to believe, but she knew that Helga didn't want to hear that, so she kept silent.
A couple of minutes, and then, the rendezvous.
"There he is, Phoebe. sigh " Then she followed her usual habit of catching herself and looking around. Her gaze fell on a smiling Phoebe. Her eyebrow cocked.
"Forgetting."
"Right."
No more was said as they focused on the conversation now transpiring their eyes.
"Lila!"
"Oh, hello Arnold--"
"AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
The conversation was tabled for the moment as Curly ran past them with Mr. Simmons in tow. Curly was carrying a small black rectangular object.
"Curly, come back here. I need to return Pay It On Ahead to the Front to the video store tomorrow!"
"But you don't understand; it's MY story. I've been paying it on ahead, and I, and I,..."
"And you what?"
"I SEE EX-PEOPLE! AH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
And so the chase went, out of their sight.
Lila was confused. "'Ex-people'?"
"I think he means people who have passed on, who are no more, who have ceased to be, expired, gone to meet their maker. Late people, stiffs, bereft of life, resting in peace. People who've rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. You know, ex-people."
"Oh." And now Lila's curiosity was directed at Arnold.
He explained. "You have the guys over for the night enough times, sooner or later you're going to get around to Monty Python videos."
"I see." She was still confused. "However did Curly get Mr. Simmons' video tape anyway?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
An uncomfortable pause ensued. Finally, Arnold took it upon himself to break it.
"Um, Lila, didn't you want to talk with me about something?"
"What? Oh, yes, Arnold. Do you have your portable CD player with you?"
"Right here," he said, holding up his CD walkman.
"And the CD I gave you yesterday is in it?"
"Yes."
"Very well then. I would like for you to walk with me. And as we walk, I would like for you to listen to a certain song on that CD."
"Uh, all right."
"Cut 13."
As Arnold fiddled with the buttons on his walkman, preparatory to joining Lila on her walk, Helga's curiosity was at as high a level as usual where those two were concerned. No one heard what Arnold listened to but him, and Lila --- who had committed the song to memory some time ago --- didn't need to. As they traveled, Arnold and Lila, with Helga and Phoebe at a discreet distance, Arnold listened to the music.
Don't write a letter
when you want to leave.
Don't call me from a friend's apartment.
I'd like to choose how I hear the news.
Take me to a park that's covered with trees.
Tell me on a Sunday, please.
Let me down easy, no big song and dance.
no long faces, no long looks,
no deep conversation.
I know how I want you to say good-bye.
Take me to a zoo that's got chimpanzees.
Tell me on a Sunday, please.
Don't want to know who's to blame;
It won't help knowing.
Don't want to fight day and night;
bad enough you're going.
Don't leave in silence
with no word at all.
Don't get drunk and slam the door;
that's no way to end this.
I know how I want you to say goodbye.
Find a circus ring with a flying trapeze.
Tell me on a Sunday, please.
As the song played, Lila kept an eye on her watch. She had heard the song enough times to know exactly when it would end. As it did so, she grabbed his hand with one of hers and pushed the Stop button with her other.
From behind, Helga noticed Lila's actions, and she seethed. It was fortunate for Lila that Phoebe was there, for Helga might not have been able to control herself after her dream of the night before.
"Huh?" Arnold noticed the music stopping, to say nothing of Lila grabbing his hand. He looked around, taking in where they were.
It was the zoo, next to the monkey cage - the one where Monkeyman had practically raised himself. Well, and good, but why were they there? For the answer, he turned to Lila.
"Well, there's no circus in the area so I couldn't get the flying trapeze, but otherwise..." She trailed off, then began again. "Arnold, do you remember when it started, the idea of us as a couple?"
"Um, not really."
Why am I not surprised she thought. It had been 51 hours since Brainy had lifted the fog from her consciousness and showed her the champion cluelessness of people, people among whom she had been until then. So she braced herself for the history lesson.
"It started with words someone wrote on a wall, 'Arnold loves Lila'. I hadn't even thought of you as more than a friend until then, and you certainly hadn't; you told me so. But I started to like like you, or I thought I did. Then you told me that you didn't like like me, that what had been written was not true. That caused me to rethink my feelings and realize that I never had like liked you. But it seems it also caused you to rethink your feelings for me. Because not too long afterward you told me that you did like like me. And you still do, don't you?"
"Well, yes."
"That's why you've been paying attention to me, carrying my things for me, doing things for me."
"I would've done the same things for anyone else, Lila."
"Would you have?"
Silence.
"I thought so. Arnold, I've recently come to the conclusion that by indulging you in your deeds, I've been manipulating you, causing you to think that there's a possibility that my feelings for you could change back." Here she caught his hand again, and looked into his eyes. "Arnold, that's not going to happen." She could feel the tears starting to come; she had to do this as quickly and as cleanly as possible. "Arnold, I've given the matter a great deal of thought; in fact, if you added up the hours I've spent thinking about this over the years, it would add up to weeks. Arnold, I won't like like you, not ever. I know that you're not the oh-so-special someone I'm looking for. And logically, it would follow that I'm not the oh- so-special someone you're looking for."
"Lila..."
"Please, don't make this harder than it is." It was taking an effort to keep her voice from breaking. "There's someone else for you Arnold, and I have to let you go. You need to be there for her when she comes, and she will come, Arnold." Her breath was now catching, her voice shaking.
Arnold, being as delightfully --- if selectively --- dense as he was, noticed this and tried to comfort her. "Lila--"
"No, Arnold." she persisted, moving away from him. "I was at fault for leading you on, even if I did it subconsciously. I have told you ever so many times that I don't like you like you, I just like you. But apparently you haven't quite gotten the message. So for the time being, it would be for the best if you and I stayed away from each other, or at least didn't do things together."
"Lila..." Now he too was starting to cry.
"I'm sorry Arnold. One day you'll understand. Soon, I hope."
Now both of them were crying, hugging, for the last time. Out of the corner of her eye, Lila could barely make out the forms of Helga and Phoebe. That was it; she had to get this over with, now!
"I'm sorry," she repeated; and with that she wrenched herself from his embrace and ran in the direction where Helga and Phoebe were. As she passed them, Phoebe fell in step with her.
"I'm sorry." This time that sentence came from Phoebe.
Lila, halted in her misery, turned. "What?"
"I'm sorry that you had to do that."
"Me too. And it wasn't even me who put myself in that position." Pause. "You heard everything?"
"Yes."
Lila looked back at Helga, who was as stunned as Arnold was. Lila considered. After all, it was Helga's fault as much as anyone's, the situation they were in. If she'd had more guts when it counted it wouldn't have come to this. Maybe she needed a good kick in the seat, so to speak, to jump-start her. If she started breaking the ice with Arnold ahead of schedule, well, that was in line with Brainy's master plan, right? Lila came to a decision.
A hand at her shoulder. "Lila?" It was Phoebe.
Lila's face adopted a determined expression. "You go ahead; I'll catch up."
And with that, she executed a 180 and marched back in the direction from which she'd come, the direction where Helga still was, still stupefied, still staring at an equally pole-axed Arnold.
Now it was Lila's turn to tap someone on the shoulder. "Wha--?" came from Helga as she turned around.
Lila was starting to get angry again. "All right, I did what I had to do. I set him free. Now, what are you going to do about it?"
Helga could only stammer in response.
Lila was fed up with Helga's hesitation. "Look, you no longer have to worry about Arnold falling for me because I will take steps to keep that from happening. The next girl might not be as understanding, and there probably will be a next girl soon enough. You told me your secret years ago, and since then you have done nothing to act on it. Well, you would be well advised to do so now. Next time I might not be able to help you, and Arnold the poor dear is so dense he won't notice anything less than an outright declaration from you." Lila glanced at her watch; if she left now she wouldn't be late for the meeting at the college library. She had now officially run out of time and patience. "Go to him, Helga. Go to him now! Do something, say something, at least let him know he can count on you as a friend. He deserves that much at least. Go on!" she exhorted while doing the unthinkable, pushing Helga G. Pataki. "Go to him! He doesn't deserve to suffer any more than he already has."
And with that, she was again at a run. The hot tears of anger were again threatening to cover her field of vision.
She hadn't asked for this. She hadn't asked for Arnold to fall for her, for Helga to do nothing about it, she hadn't asked for that message to be written on the wall. It wasn't right, him falling for her. Couldn't she just be a nice person without people falling in love with her? It wasn't right what she had to do, and she hated the circumstances that mandated it.
Hate? Yes, hate, of everything and everyone that contributed to the current unhappy situation. Of herself for not doing something before it came to this, of Arnold for being so dense and so smitten, of Helga for her lack of volition, of Brainy for telling her what she had to do, of whoever wrote those words on that wall, of her father for moving them here where she'd become ensnared in this situation, of God for allowing her mother to die and the farm to fail necessitating their move here, of Phoebe--
"Lila?"
--of Phoebe--
"Lila?"
--Phoebe--
"Lila!" Finally jolted out of her mental self-pity jag, she whipped around to face her be-glassed colleague.
"Huh?"
"You can stop running now; we're almost there."
"Oh." she stopped short.
"That really took a lot out of you, didn't it?"
"You have no idea." Lila's hands went to her forehead; she was now starting to hyperventilate.
Fortunately, they were now on the outskirts of the local college, which included the occasional bench outside. Phoebe now steered Lila in the direction of such a bench and sat her down. "Try to breathe deeply, Lila. And put your head between your knees."
Out of sorts, Lila nonetheless managed to follow Phoebe's advice to the letter. When she was able to, they arose, and continued on, to the library.
Of course I'd like y'all to read this and continue to review. Wait, if you're reading this you've probably already read it. So please review it, then? Thanks in advance. And next time, well, didn't you notice someone missing here? That someone will now once again come to the foreground of the story. Cy'all.
Speaking of the previous chapter, I am overwhelmed at the response; it's tied for my personal record for the most reviews per chapter, and has resulted in my now having an average of 6 reviews per chapter. Your reviews have been very kind and forgiving, with one exception; I got my first flame, yay! To address the flame first, thank you borg. The course of no one's fanfic writing career should run smooth, and you've done your part to ensure that such would be the case with me. You're right; that last chapter was a piece of trash (which surprised even me as I'm usually the resident prude), I do seem to be on here typing stories every hour, and I do need to get a life. I will take your advice under advisement and act accordingly. Vladivostock, read on to find out. Houkanno Yuuhou, I too had reservations about the sex parts; as I just said I'm usually the resident prude and I'm shocked, shocked, that I turned out stuff like that. Maybe I should make what happens less obvious, I dunno. That said, I agree with you that Helga at almost 13 might have had just such a dream, sex and all. As to Ruth being a soprano, it was because she seemed to me to have the highest voice of the four of them; confirming my opinion would be a good reason to watch my tape of Arnold's Valentine again. I wonder what my grandmother Ruth would think, hoo boy. n8, thanks, I changed the rating to PG. Starry Nights, thanks. JESS, read on to find out what Lila does. J.T., thanks, I will trust your judgment as I am on record as saying you're perceptive. cass, thank you too. veggie5, thanks and I hope you explore the many other HA! fics on here. There's a lot of excrement, but there's also a lot of cream, which is starting to be collected at Gerald's Library. I'd recommend stuff by Simmer, Anne, Heidi Pataki, Starry Nights, Yardbird9, dutch tulips / Queen of Hearts, littlepinkbook, and I just know I'm leaving out many of my favorites. Just look around; you'll find the quality stuff. And now, to the work.
Hey Arnold! is created, copyrighted, & / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, & / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. Tell Me On a Sunday, from the musical of the same name, was written by Don Black and composed by and performed under the direction of Andrew Lloyd Webber 1980. And I've no idea who currently holds the copyright to Monty Python.
Comes the dawn. Sunday morning, the day certain seismic shifts are to find their way to a certain football-headed hero. The indications of what awaits that afternoon are few that morning. Lila is tight-lipped, Helga is in rather a disheveled condition, and anyone else who knows what's going down has expressions in varying degrees of inscrutability.
The morning hours pass without incident. Those who go to church do so, those who stay home do that. And those who normally go for an outing --- to the lake, or to Hawk Mountain, or just on a car trip --- carry on their usual Sunday morning routine as though nothing is out of the ordinary. How little anyone knows.
One o'clock, a time on the shank of the afternoon though long enough after noon that those who have been elsewhere have time to return home and partake of Sunday dinner. By this time a certain group has been meeting at the Sunset Arms Boarding House for some time. It is a tension-filled meeting; Helga is even more on edge than she usually is, so much so that Arnold and Gerald have no trouble picking up on it. Nervous? That might be one word for it.
Fast forward half an hour. It's now...
"Hey Arnold, it's 1:30 man. You might want to start getting ready now."
"Yeah, don't want to be late for your date with Liiiii-la!"
"It's not a date, Helga. She just wants me to meet her so we can talk."
Meanwhile, the subject of said conversation is out and about well in advance of her rendezvous in the park. If she started walking now, she would get there with some time to spare; but she wasn't in the mood to start walking there just yet. She had left her home early because she had thinking to do, a lot of thinking.
After walking about for a while, she found her feet taking her to that alley, the place where it all started. Step. Step. Step. To the wall at the end of the alley.
And there it was.
"Arnold loves Lila"
Everything they had gone through, everything through which they had yet to go, all of it could be traced directly to that. She hadn't even thought of Arnold in that way until she saw it, and was encouraged by Rhonda and Nadine to think in that direction. Nor had he thought of her in that way, as he had later told her. Whoever had written those three words had indeed sown the wind.
Lila pondered the writing, trying to fathom who had written it and why. Desire for her and Arnold to get together? Or merely a cruel prank, one the reverberations of which sounded forth to this day, and beyond.
Why? she wondered. why did you do this to us, whoever you are? What did I ever do to you? And Arnold, whatever could he have done? What could deserve all the hurt we've gone through, all the hurt that lies ahead? She was angry now, hurt and angry. Tears of anger started to fall, clouding her vision. She could feel it, emotions she knew she had but which she usually kept bottled up inside. And for good reason; she feared that side of her. If she lost control, she didn't want to think about what could happen. But now it possessed her. In her blind fury, she knew she had to take it out on something. Appending blame for her state to the wall before her, she charged it, coming to a stop inches from it. Then, the fists. Silently, she struck out at the personification of her foe. Then, the fog cleared from her eyes and her head, and she saw it.
Chalk dust.
Not unexpected, considering this sign was written in chalk, but it was enough to make her step back and look again. A lock of hair strayed over her forehead, partially blocking her view. She brushed it aside, and that's when she saw it.
Why hadn't she noticed before?
The writing was different.
The first two words were written in elegant cursive, which was appropriate to the care that had evidently gone into the heart design surrounding the lettering. But the last word, her name, was written in manuscript. Not even good manuscript, but like it was written in a hurry. Like an afterthought.
An afterthought, she thought, is that all I am?
And the dust, dust where another name had been, one rubbed out to make room for the "afterthought". There wasn't enough for her to try to make out what the other name could have been, just enough to let her know that it had been there.
beep beep
On instinct, her wrist swiveled in front of her face. 1:45. If she left now, she'd be there on time. Couldn't be late, not her, not Miss Perfect. Oh yes, she had heard it, and before Brainy had mentioned it too.
Brainy. What was it about him? Why did she keep thinking about him? Oh well.
One thing she had already learned from him: keep a package of tissues on hand. The package she had with her now went into play, as she set about removing evidence of her tantrum. Two tissues, and the blood was gone from her knuckles. A stop by a drinking fountain to soak her knuckles, a little cream from her purse, and the job was done.
And now, for Arnold.
Arnold was approaching the park, accompanied by Gerald. Helga had chosen not to come; she had said something about doing something with Phoebe, at which Gerald had taken silent interest. He couldn't figure out what Phoebe saw in Helga.
"Well, here we are man."
"Thanks for coming with me Gerald."
"Hey, I had to give you a sendoff for whatever's going to happen. You sure you don't want me hangin' around?"
"Better not, Gerald. Lila just said she wanted to talk with me, y'know?"
"Yeah, I getcha. You take care." And with a thumb wiggle, he was on his way.
Helga too was on her way, to the park. Accompanying or accompanied by Phoebe, it was a tossup as ostensibly Phoebe was the one with a reason for being here. They approached from the same direction Lila did, so of course they noticed Lila's little ablution.
"Hey, Pheebs, what's she doing?"
"It appears that she is wiping her hands. I'm not sure why; I'm not close enough."
"And now she's doing something in that drinking fountain."
"Perhaps she's washing her hands."
"Make a note to remind me not to drink out of that fountain next time we're here."
"Making."
"And now she's doing something with some cream. Hah, I guess being Miss Perfect is higher maintenance than I'd thought."
Many thoughts came into Phoebe's mind about how there might be more to Lila than Helga was willing to believe, but she knew that Helga didn't want to hear that, so she kept silent.
A couple of minutes, and then, the rendezvous.
"There he is, Phoebe. sigh " Then she followed her usual habit of catching herself and looking around. Her gaze fell on a smiling Phoebe. Her eyebrow cocked.
"Forgetting."
"Right."
No more was said as they focused on the conversation now transpiring their eyes.
"Lila!"
"Oh, hello Arnold--"
"AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
The conversation was tabled for the moment as Curly ran past them with Mr. Simmons in tow. Curly was carrying a small black rectangular object.
"Curly, come back here. I need to return Pay It On Ahead to the Front to the video store tomorrow!"
"But you don't understand; it's MY story. I've been paying it on ahead, and I, and I,..."
"And you what?"
"I SEE EX-PEOPLE! AH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
And so the chase went, out of their sight.
Lila was confused. "'Ex-people'?"
"I think he means people who have passed on, who are no more, who have ceased to be, expired, gone to meet their maker. Late people, stiffs, bereft of life, resting in peace. People who've rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. You know, ex-people."
"Oh." And now Lila's curiosity was directed at Arnold.
He explained. "You have the guys over for the night enough times, sooner or later you're going to get around to Monty Python videos."
"I see." She was still confused. "However did Curly get Mr. Simmons' video tape anyway?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
An uncomfortable pause ensued. Finally, Arnold took it upon himself to break it.
"Um, Lila, didn't you want to talk with me about something?"
"What? Oh, yes, Arnold. Do you have your portable CD player with you?"
"Right here," he said, holding up his CD walkman.
"And the CD I gave you yesterday is in it?"
"Yes."
"Very well then. I would like for you to walk with me. And as we walk, I would like for you to listen to a certain song on that CD."
"Uh, all right."
"Cut 13."
As Arnold fiddled with the buttons on his walkman, preparatory to joining Lila on her walk, Helga's curiosity was at as high a level as usual where those two were concerned. No one heard what Arnold listened to but him, and Lila --- who had committed the song to memory some time ago --- didn't need to. As they traveled, Arnold and Lila, with Helga and Phoebe at a discreet distance, Arnold listened to the music.
Don't write a letter
when you want to leave.
Don't call me from a friend's apartment.
I'd like to choose how I hear the news.
Take me to a park that's covered with trees.
Tell me on a Sunday, please.
Let me down easy, no big song and dance.
no long faces, no long looks,
no deep conversation.
I know how I want you to say good-bye.
Take me to a zoo that's got chimpanzees.
Tell me on a Sunday, please.
Don't want to know who's to blame;
It won't help knowing.
Don't want to fight day and night;
bad enough you're going.
Don't leave in silence
with no word at all.
Don't get drunk and slam the door;
that's no way to end this.
I know how I want you to say goodbye.
Find a circus ring with a flying trapeze.
Tell me on a Sunday, please.
As the song played, Lila kept an eye on her watch. She had heard the song enough times to know exactly when it would end. As it did so, she grabbed his hand with one of hers and pushed the Stop button with her other.
From behind, Helga noticed Lila's actions, and she seethed. It was fortunate for Lila that Phoebe was there, for Helga might not have been able to control herself after her dream of the night before.
"Huh?" Arnold noticed the music stopping, to say nothing of Lila grabbing his hand. He looked around, taking in where they were.
It was the zoo, next to the monkey cage - the one where Monkeyman had practically raised himself. Well, and good, but why were they there? For the answer, he turned to Lila.
"Well, there's no circus in the area so I couldn't get the flying trapeze, but otherwise..." She trailed off, then began again. "Arnold, do you remember when it started, the idea of us as a couple?"
"Um, not really."
Why am I not surprised she thought. It had been 51 hours since Brainy had lifted the fog from her consciousness and showed her the champion cluelessness of people, people among whom she had been until then. So she braced herself for the history lesson.
"It started with words someone wrote on a wall, 'Arnold loves Lila'. I hadn't even thought of you as more than a friend until then, and you certainly hadn't; you told me so. But I started to like like you, or I thought I did. Then you told me that you didn't like like me, that what had been written was not true. That caused me to rethink my feelings and realize that I never had like liked you. But it seems it also caused you to rethink your feelings for me. Because not too long afterward you told me that you did like like me. And you still do, don't you?"
"Well, yes."
"That's why you've been paying attention to me, carrying my things for me, doing things for me."
"I would've done the same things for anyone else, Lila."
"Would you have?"
Silence.
"I thought so. Arnold, I've recently come to the conclusion that by indulging you in your deeds, I've been manipulating you, causing you to think that there's a possibility that my feelings for you could change back." Here she caught his hand again, and looked into his eyes. "Arnold, that's not going to happen." She could feel the tears starting to come; she had to do this as quickly and as cleanly as possible. "Arnold, I've given the matter a great deal of thought; in fact, if you added up the hours I've spent thinking about this over the years, it would add up to weeks. Arnold, I won't like like you, not ever. I know that you're not the oh-so-special someone I'm looking for. And logically, it would follow that I'm not the oh- so-special someone you're looking for."
"Lila..."
"Please, don't make this harder than it is." It was taking an effort to keep her voice from breaking. "There's someone else for you Arnold, and I have to let you go. You need to be there for her when she comes, and she will come, Arnold." Her breath was now catching, her voice shaking.
Arnold, being as delightfully --- if selectively --- dense as he was, noticed this and tried to comfort her. "Lila--"
"No, Arnold." she persisted, moving away from him. "I was at fault for leading you on, even if I did it subconsciously. I have told you ever so many times that I don't like you like you, I just like you. But apparently you haven't quite gotten the message. So for the time being, it would be for the best if you and I stayed away from each other, or at least didn't do things together."
"Lila..." Now he too was starting to cry.
"I'm sorry Arnold. One day you'll understand. Soon, I hope."
Now both of them were crying, hugging, for the last time. Out of the corner of her eye, Lila could barely make out the forms of Helga and Phoebe. That was it; she had to get this over with, now!
"I'm sorry," she repeated; and with that she wrenched herself from his embrace and ran in the direction where Helga and Phoebe were. As she passed them, Phoebe fell in step with her.
"I'm sorry." This time that sentence came from Phoebe.
Lila, halted in her misery, turned. "What?"
"I'm sorry that you had to do that."
"Me too. And it wasn't even me who put myself in that position." Pause. "You heard everything?"
"Yes."
Lila looked back at Helga, who was as stunned as Arnold was. Lila considered. After all, it was Helga's fault as much as anyone's, the situation they were in. If she'd had more guts when it counted it wouldn't have come to this. Maybe she needed a good kick in the seat, so to speak, to jump-start her. If she started breaking the ice with Arnold ahead of schedule, well, that was in line with Brainy's master plan, right? Lila came to a decision.
A hand at her shoulder. "Lila?" It was Phoebe.
Lila's face adopted a determined expression. "You go ahead; I'll catch up."
And with that, she executed a 180 and marched back in the direction from which she'd come, the direction where Helga still was, still stupefied, still staring at an equally pole-axed Arnold.
Now it was Lila's turn to tap someone on the shoulder. "Wha--?" came from Helga as she turned around.
Lila was starting to get angry again. "All right, I did what I had to do. I set him free. Now, what are you going to do about it?"
Helga could only stammer in response.
Lila was fed up with Helga's hesitation. "Look, you no longer have to worry about Arnold falling for me because I will take steps to keep that from happening. The next girl might not be as understanding, and there probably will be a next girl soon enough. You told me your secret years ago, and since then you have done nothing to act on it. Well, you would be well advised to do so now. Next time I might not be able to help you, and Arnold the poor dear is so dense he won't notice anything less than an outright declaration from you." Lila glanced at her watch; if she left now she wouldn't be late for the meeting at the college library. She had now officially run out of time and patience. "Go to him, Helga. Go to him now! Do something, say something, at least let him know he can count on you as a friend. He deserves that much at least. Go on!" she exhorted while doing the unthinkable, pushing Helga G. Pataki. "Go to him! He doesn't deserve to suffer any more than he already has."
And with that, she was again at a run. The hot tears of anger were again threatening to cover her field of vision.
She hadn't asked for this. She hadn't asked for Arnold to fall for her, for Helga to do nothing about it, she hadn't asked for that message to be written on the wall. It wasn't right, him falling for her. Couldn't she just be a nice person without people falling in love with her? It wasn't right what she had to do, and she hated the circumstances that mandated it.
Hate? Yes, hate, of everything and everyone that contributed to the current unhappy situation. Of herself for not doing something before it came to this, of Arnold for being so dense and so smitten, of Helga for her lack of volition, of Brainy for telling her what she had to do, of whoever wrote those words on that wall, of her father for moving them here where she'd become ensnared in this situation, of God for allowing her mother to die and the farm to fail necessitating their move here, of Phoebe--
"Lila?"
--of Phoebe--
"Lila?"
--Phoebe--
"Lila!" Finally jolted out of her mental self-pity jag, she whipped around to face her be-glassed colleague.
"Huh?"
"You can stop running now; we're almost there."
"Oh." she stopped short.
"That really took a lot out of you, didn't it?"
"You have no idea." Lila's hands went to her forehead; she was now starting to hyperventilate.
Fortunately, they were now on the outskirts of the local college, which included the occasional bench outside. Phoebe now steered Lila in the direction of such a bench and sat her down. "Try to breathe deeply, Lila. And put your head between your knees."
Out of sorts, Lila nonetheless managed to follow Phoebe's advice to the letter. When she was able to, they arose, and continued on, to the library.
Of course I'd like y'all to read this and continue to review. Wait, if you're reading this you've probably already read it. So please review it, then? Thanks in advance. And next time, well, didn't you notice someone missing here? That someone will now once again come to the foreground of the story. Cy'all.