Once more I am overwhelmed at the response I've gotten. So once more
I submit my latest with not a little trepidation; to be short, I keep
worrying my next won't be as good as my last. With some chapters I know
exactly where I'm going. Then there's the kind of chapter you see before
you here. I appreciate kindness, but if I need to fix something I'd
appreciate being apprised of that too. Thank y'all.
Review time:
Ryoko-onee, thank you. It made me cringe too, the language and all. I'm working on Brainy's future here, obviously. And don't give up on Olga just yet. I managed to salvage Lila; I will try to do the same for Olga.
Ms. Prongs, thank you. Yes, it was intense. Now that you mention it that passage was humorous; I don't want to completely leave out the funny stuff, without which the series would be like a battery with just the negative terminal hooked up, or just the positive for that matter. I'd seen a law firm put out these announcements about mesothelioma for some time, but I hadn't really noticed the connection with asbestos until literally the day I posted the last chapter; it was one of the last things I added. Oh, no offense to anyone negatively affected by asbestos. Hope you get unstressed.
zali, thank you. Yes, it was pressurized; I'm glad you like those sections. Like I said, don't give up on Olga. The rest of Brainy's plan can't happen without her.
jc, thank you. I'm touched that you're touched. Of course, I'm touched anyway, but that's neither here nor there. I guess I can write angst.
Starry Nights, thanks, it's always good to hear from you. I really didn't think it was as much a cliffhanger as the previous two chapters were, but I guess that's a matter of opinion. You'll get part of the answer here but as to 'ever'? Well, eventually.
Anoriel, thank you. Yes, it was sad.
Houkanno Yuuhou, thanks, I also look forward to your reviews. That I made you cry, wow, it makes me a bit sad that I struck such a chord, or that such a chord's there to be struck. Fair warning; there might be more of the same here.
J.T., thanks, and I respect you too.
Roxynomekop, thanks. You have hit it right on the head. Obviously, this fic is about Brainy, but I don't want to ignore the good that Arnold continues to do. He is the 'do-goody dreamer' and I don't want to lose sight of that.
Dramagirl 310, thank you.
JESS, thank you. No, I'd never even heard of Kiwibox until you mentioned it. I'd also never seen Rent, which also uses that quote. It's an old quote, one known far and wide. The parents will find out, eventually. You'll see.
Chien, thank you as well.
Ms. Pataki, thank you.
oneblackvoice, thank you. It means a lot to me when I get such a review as yours; it's one of the more mature and discerning reviews I've gotten, which is not intending offense to all of you other reviewers. It's the kind of review I'd make myself, which I mean in a good way. Greatness? Well, I wouldn't say that, but I'm glad you did. As to your complaint, you're right; these are mature issues. That said, look at with whom we are dealing. There's Brainy, who I make a genius. There's Phoebe, who we already know is a genius. There's Lila, who's been known to get the answer in ahead of Phoebe. There's Arnold, who's been the grownup in the house for who knows how many years. And then there's Helga. How many nine-year-olds have we known to use terms like 'orzo-shaped Prometheus'? I hadn't even heard the term 'orzo' until I started watching HA! Rhozine, yes; lozenge, yes; orzo, no. But that aside, your point is well taken. I do try to keep this as close to the series as I can, which is why I await new episodes and the movie with some degree of trepidation; oh well.
And Yardbird9, thanks for your e-mail. My response? The check is in the e-mail. Or rather, check your e-mail. My response is there.
Hey Arnold! is created, owned, and / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. Cyrano de Bergerac was written by Edmond Rostand. Scarlett O'Hara was a character in Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. The Shakespearean references, quotations and knock-offs are from The Riverside Shakespeare, copyright 1974 by Houghton-Mifflin.
Helga was paying attention to what she was saying to the extent that she didn't notice her sister backing away from the margin of the scene of the crying. The same could be said for Arnold. But Brainy did notice, and when Olga left he saw an opportunity to check on Lila. He slipped behind the blond couple, and in a matter of seconds was behind the redhead.
"It goes without saying that Olga didn't take what Helga said too well." he whispered.
Lila whispered back, "That's an understatement."
Brainy pondered. "Is it possible she didn't know all of this? Or perhaps she was repressing it."
"That's something I'll need to ask her when she comes back. If she comes back."
"She might not?"
"I don't know. I have an unfunny feeling I'll have to go looking for her, but just in case..."
"I'd better be getting back to where I was, gotcha." Before he left, he noticed. "You've been crying too."
"So have you. Who wouldn't be who's witnessed this?"
"True."
"We are doing the right thing here."
"Yes. Like I told Phoebe, they have to know. And this is the only way they will know. They wouldn't listen otherwise. Can you imagine if her father had been here instead of her sister?"
Lila shuddered. "He would have gone charging in like a bull elephant."
"And done as much damage. More."
"Mm." pause "Brainy?"
"Mm?"
"Do you really think there's hope for them, even for him?"
Brainy's turn to pause. "Yes." he whispered, and not because he had to either. "What's that old saying, while there's life there's hope? There has to be," he hissed, "for her."
While keeping her thumb on the trigger of the camera, Lila looked back at her enigmatic colleague. "You're a good person, Brainy."
Brainy broke his gaze from the scene in front of them, momentarily locking eyes with Lila. "So are you. Doing this for someone who hates you for no good reason."
"What about you, practically giving the woman you love to another?"
"As if she ever were mine to give."
"Still, Cyrano couldn't have done it better."
"He would have used words." His gaze returned to the couple. "I'm kind of envious, really. And I don't mean of Cyrano."
"Yes, you've explained that."
"I don't mean I'm jealous of Arnold because Helga's in love with him. It's the way he's so easy for everyone to be friends with. I wish I had the way with people that he has. He's not flashy or anything, in a way he's as low key as I am, but he has that certain something."
"That's about what I thought of his cousin."
"You were in love with Arnie; I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about friendship, ... I wish I could just go up to a crowd and say 'Hi. What's going on?' But I can't get past the wheezing and the shyness. Arnold? He never meets a stranger, and I don't mean that in a glad-handing way. He'll go up to anyone, celebrities even, and be comfortable like it's no big thing. Stinky was right; he does lead a charmed life."
"That reminds me, aren't we taking a chance on being found out by the others? Even if few people ever come to this particular place, it is a public park."
"It's been taken care of. Yesterday at the game we got together and worked out our schedules so that we could spend more time doing group things. It also has the benefit of letting everyone know what everyone else is doing at a given time."
"Strange, I don't remember anyone telling me about this."
"That is strange. Maybe everyone assumed you would find out from someone else or had already found out. But I told Curly, who told Eugene, who told Sheena and Harold, who told Stinky and Sid, who told Rhonda, Nadine, and Lorenzo. I also told Phoebe, who told Helga and Gerald, who told Arnold."
"How could I have missed all of that?"
"Now that I think of it, a lot of it happened while you were up at bat. I guess that some things happen on the bench that the starting lineup isn't in on."
"I suppose..."
At that moment the volume of sobbing and other noises associated with extreme sadness, which had been going up and down, took another upswing. Brainy noticed, and his attention again centered on Helga. Lila noticed this; she also noticed the pain in his expression.
"You're still in love with her." It was a statement, not a question.
Brainy was caught off guard, but he made a quick recovery. "Like I told Phoebe, I've dealt with it."
"I don't believe that; you can't just turn it on and off like a switch."
"I can try. Did I mention I'm seeing a psychiatrist?"
"Dr. Bliss, yes, you did. I'm serious, Brainy. Have you given any thought to what happens after you get Helga together with Arnold, what you'll do then?"
An uncomfortable period of comparative silence ensued, then, "I don't know. I'd chosen not to think about it."
"Going to think about it tomorrow, like Scarlett O'Hara?"
"Something like that."
"Is there someone you might be interested in, someone to take your mind off of Helga?"
Out of self-defense, and influenced somewhat by Helga, Brainy snorted. "Have you been watching too much Lawson's Lake?"
"You're avoiding the question."
"Of course I am; I learned from the best."
Lila waited, her face conveying her skepticism and her anticipation.
Brainy's face reddened. "Well, there is someone I've noticed... we don't have time for this. I need to get back to my post."
"Brainy..."
But he was already sneaking back to the other side of the blond couple.
For whom things had slowed to a dull roar. They were in each other's arms, hugging, Arnold in friendship and concern, Helga for dear life and semi-subconsciously in fulfillment of a lifelong dream. The walls she'd built? The fortress deep and mighty that none may penetrate, in the words of the song? Once he'd seen her despair, her vulnerability, what was the point? Maybe it was that, maybe it was the stigma of turning 13, maybe it was just the hormones of adolescence. For whatever reason, he now knew as much about her family as she did, thanks to her. A depressed sigh escaped her lips, drawing his attention.
"Well, it's official. My life is now over."
"You're sounding like Rhonda."
"Yeah, guess I am."
"So, why is your life over?"
"Because now you know so many of my secrets."
"I imagine you still have some."
Her mind was again drawn to the secrets she still had, one in particular. "You're right; I do."
"Well, I won't pry, Helga. Just tell me what you're comfortable with telling, or not."
"I wasn't comfortable telling you what I already did. You took advantage of me, Football-head." She gave the matter the proverbial great deal of thought, then... "I never cried so much in my life. Actually, I never cried much at all."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm a Pataki."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Besides, I've never seen you cry either."
Arnold turned his face away. "I do cry, in private, where no one can see me. Sometimes not having parents gets to me, and I..."
"I'm sorry, Arnold, I shouldn't have..."
Arnold shrugged it off, literally and otherwise. "You couldn't have known."
"Thanks."
"It seems we have similarities to each other. I don't know if my parents are alive..."
"And to my parents I might as well not be alive."
"Exactly."
They then fell into another silence; this time, for a change, Helga spoke first. She still had a lot on her mind.
"You asked what my being a Pataki has to do with not crying. It's always been understood that Patakis don't cry."
"WHAT?"
"It's true. It's always been pounded in that Patakis are tough, and since that other Pataki got elected governor of New York in '94--"
"That's right; I thought I'd heard that name before. Any relation?"
"Distantly. As soon as he heard of a successful Pataki, Bob had a genealogical search done. But aren't we all related down the line somewhere? 'They will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet'."
"Huh?"
"It's from Henry IV Part II."
"I'm impressed."
"Hey, that school play turned me on to Shakespeare. I've been reading in my spare time, I found that line and it seemed appropriate."
"Wow."
"What about you?" She now looked Arnold in the face, a small smirk on hers. "Have you been getting any use out of your birthday present?"
"Yeah, I figured I'd go through it in order, so so far I'm still on the comedies. Funny you should ask me that, though, I've been thinking--"
"Uh-oh."
"Funny again. I seem to remember some of your lines from that play, something about names."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. It was the balcony scene, you didn't know I was there listening yet, so you were basically talking to yourself. Do you remember? About names, Montagues in particular?"
"I think so."
"Try to go over it now, but substitute 'Pataki' for 'Montague'."
"Okkay." It took Helga a while to gather her thoughts, especially of lines from that far back. Arnold could see that she was having trouble, so he gathered his thoughts and threw out a line to help her.
"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"
"Thanks, Arnold. I think I have it now."
"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a, a, a Pataki.
What's Pataki? It is nor hand nor foot,
Nor arm nor face, [nor any other part]
Belonging to a man."
"You see? So you're a Pataki, so what? While one's name might be something to be proud of, it's not something that should run your life."
"I know, but..."
"You asked if I'd been getting use out of that book; wanna hear a sample?"
"Um, sure."
"Like I said, so far I've just been reading the comedies, and this one I don't find funny at all."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, but there's a passage I'm remembering now, it seems appropriate too. Let's see... oh yeah, now I remember. Only I'll substitute your name too."
Helga nodded. "Go on."
"You are a Pataki. Hath not a Pataki eyes? Hath not a Pataki hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter and summer, as a, a, as anyone of any other name is? If I prick you, do you not bleed? If I tickle you, do you not laugh? If I poison you, do you not die? And if I wrong you, shall you not revenge?"
Helga sat there agape as Arnold finished his lines. "Arnold, I'm amazed!"
"So am I, truth be told. I didn't even know it made that big an impression on me. Oh, it's from--"
"Merchant of Venice, I know. You don't find it funny."
"Maybe parts of it."
"Have you gotten to the part where Portia and Nerissa kick butt in court yet?"
"Yeah."
"An Elizabethan version of girl power!"
"Yeah. It's a bit anti-Semitic for my taste, though."
"True."
Another extended silence; again, Helga broke it.
"So what now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Now that you know, well, what you know."
This time Arnold was the one who sighed. "I wish I could tell you, Helga, I really do. With my talent for helping people, pulling off miracles even--"
"So you've noticed." Helga teased.
Arnold smiled and blushed. "Yeah. But I don't even know where to start with this one." he continued, the grin fading into sadness. "All I can come up with so far you probably wouldn't want any part of."
"What?"
"Oh, calling the authorities."
"WHAT?"
"Yeah, child neglect, mental cruelty--"
"Arnold, don't do that, please!"
"I won't. But you see what I mean? If that's all I can come up with..." he trailed off into another sigh. Helga acknowledged the situation, matching Arnold's sigh with one of her own.
"But I will keep trying to think of something."
"I know you will."
"Helga, is that really how things are, about Patakis not crying?"
"Yeah, football-head, it's really how things are. As far back as I can remember it's been, Patakis are tough, Patakis bounce back, Patakis are winners, Patakis don't talk about their feelings, Patakis don't cry--"
"Except for Olga."
"You said it; she is the exception."
"Where does all this come from, about what's expected of Patakis?"
"Are you kidding? Big Bob of course."
"And you follow what he says, even when you're not around him."
"Well, yes."
"That would explain why you think you need to be a mean bully." A welter of thoughts and feelings went through Helga's mind while Arnold sifted through his own thoughts. Finally... "Interesting."
"What?"
"Even after all that he's done, with what you feel about him and everything, you still follow his lead."
"Huh?"
"Don't you see, Helga? Despite everything, you still want his approval and are still trying to get it."
That observation cut Helga to the quick; she felt another storm coming on. Arnold was ready; he caught her and held her while she had another cry. Finally...
"Now I think about it, that's one of the reasons I'm so jealous of Lila."
"I didn't know you were jealous of Lila."
You have no idea she thought. What she said, though, was "Oh yeah, you don't know what we did to her her first weeks here. Lemme tell you..."
Helga then launched into her memories of the beginning of P.S.118's acquaintance with Miss Perfect of Pleasantville. The one as smart as Phoebe, as stylish as Rhonda, and with all the guys at her feet. Off to the side, the subject of Helga's current monologue was spellbound at the other side of her first experiences in Hillwood. She too found herself renewing her acquaintance with tears as she heard of the jealousies, the pranks, the mild sadism, and finally the scene at the tenement building where the Sawyers lived.
"...and they were crying, both of them, together! I couldn't handle it; I had a breakdown on the spot. Phoebe had to slap me to bring me out of it."
"Whoa!"
"Exactly. And then later, after we made up with her, and that Mitchell guy called changing his mind about the job, they were so happy. I mean, there they were, the poorest people we'd ever met, and for all I know no mother just the two of them, and yet so happy..."
She broke down yet again; this was not a good day for Helga's self- control. She'd been sweeping these things under the rug for so long, as per her father's instructions. And now the rug had been pulled back, and she found herself in mortal combat with killer dustbunnies, to extend the metaphor. She struggled to get her next words out.
"I've never seen my dad cry, not really. Never. And then when they were happy, she was loving him so freely, so openly. And he was loving her back! She's so unafraid to show her emotions, how could I not be jealous of her? I would give anything to be able to love my dad like that. Anything."
Arnold didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do either, so he just held her. It was enough.
Lila had lost it. It was all she could do to keep herself from bawling long and loud. Fortunately the blond couple were preoccupied; otherwise they would have discovered her. On the other side, Brainy too was in agony. His heart went out to both girls; he longed to comfort them. Helga had Arnold, so Brainy looked across the way, toward Lila. Seeing her so upset and being unable to do anything about it tore at him. Eventually...
For part of Helga, despite the circumstances, she was in paradise. Right now, she was closer to her beloved than she had ever been, physically and otherwise. He had found out many of her secrets, had comforted her, had been a shoulder for her to cry on, had held her, was holding her still. She felt like she could die right then and there, so full she considered her life at that point. Or better, she felt like she could almost tell him... but wait. What was that? A pulse she could feel coming from Arnold, a vibration, almost like...
Laughter.
Arnold was laughing. At her? After all that had happened, all that she had told him? Someone was really asking for it, bucko!
She swung around to face him, her brows lowered to a dangerous level. "All right, you'd BETTER have an explanation for laughing!"
Arnold, sporting a faint smile, immediately became conciliatory. "I'm sorry, Helga. It's not you, it's us; it's the situation."
"Wha-?"
"Well, look at us! Think about it; this morning, would you have ever thought that anything like this could ever happen, the two of us like this?"
Helga did think about it. While she'd had fantasies about just such a situation, she had never seriously given it any thought that it could come true. The realization, along with the fulfillment of parts of her dreams, hit her, causing a bit of giddiness. While she managed to hold the giddiness in check, there was nothing she could do to stop the chuckles she found leaving her own mouth.
The two of them had a good laugh, then settled down again. Arnold faced her once again.
"It's good to be able to laugh, isn't it?"
"snort, yeah." Another prolonged silence followed.
Arnold then turned to Helga, took her by the hand, again, and summoned up all the earnestness he could muster; which for him was second nature. "Helga, I don't know what's going to happen with regard to this, I don't know what to do about it, but I will keep thinking about it until I figure out something."
"I know you will, and that's enough. Just knowing that you're on my side..."
"Well, I am. And another thing: if you ever need to talk to someone about this, about anything, I'm here."
"For that matter, you can feel free to talk to me about anything that might be bothering you, too."
"Thanks. Don't worry, Helga; you're not alone anymore."
Helga could only smile; her heart and mind too full of words. But Arnold reconsidered.
"Wait, maybe I'm overstepping the bounds there. I guess you already tell Phoebe about all of this."
"No I don't. She probably knows some of it at least, but it's not from me telling her."
"I would think you would tell your best friend."
"Do you tell Gerald these things, like how about what happened at the beach?"
"He wouldn't understand that, but Phoebe would."
"True. Well, do you tell him how you feel about your parents?"
"I see what you're getting at. It's just something you don't talk about."
"Exactly."
"Hey, Arnold!"
It was Gerald, who accompanied by Phoebe was now approaching them. "Speak of the devil." Helga muttered.
Arnold gave her that look, one eyebrow raised, one lowered.
She got the message. "I'll go easy on him." she said.
Which was about all she had a chance to say, as Gerald came running up in between them just after they broke off their embrace, just in time for him to not see it.
"Hey Arn- Helga?"
"Congratulations, Geraldo, you pass the eye exam."
"Right." Gerald then pulled his best friend aside. "Arnold, what're you doing with Helga Pataki?"
"I heard that, Tall Hair Boy. For your information, Arnoldo was bringing me up to speed on the group project; right?" Helga came to Arnold's rescue, as it were.
Arnold caught on. "Right. In fact, Helga, there's a little bit more I didn't get to tell you; can I borrow a sheet of paper so I can write it for you?"
"Um, sure, whatever floats your boat, football-head." The books were still with Helga, at her feet. She picked up the little pink one, turned it to a blank page, and tearing out said page handed it to Arnold. "But I can only spare one sheet so you'd better write small."
But Gerald still wasn't satisfied. "Wait, Arnold, why write it instead of telling her?"
Now it was Phoebe's turn to come to the rescue, a role at which she'd had considerably more experience. "It's because I'm here, Gerald."
"That's right, Geraldo. I mean, she's my best friend, but rules are rules. She hasn't told me what she's up to with Brainy and Liii-la, and she shouldn't. Same reason."
"Right."
"Oh."
"Here you go, Helga." said Arnold, coming back into the scene; he'd had to find a surface on which to lay the sheet of paper while he wrote. "You might want to wait until you get home to read it."
"Doi! That's what I was going to do, football-head." Then it was her turn to make a couple uncomfortable. "Wait, what are you two doing together?"
"Uh, looking for you two of course, right Phoebe?"
"Oh. Right."
"Anyway," said Gerald, "now that we've found each other I guess we'd better get going?"
Murmurs of agreement were heard as the group of four dispersed. Arnold and Gerald, after the customary thumb wiggle, went in one direction, Arnold looking back briefly at Helga.
She went in the other direction. "Yo! Phoebe!"
"Coming!" Phoebe called back, but she hung back for a bit; she suspected something.
Her suspicion was confirmed as, from either side of her, Brainy and Lila came out of the bushes; they met each other where Phoebe stood.
"So how did it go?"
"Harrowing." the other two intoned in unison.
"What now?"
"Olga." was the only word Lila said before she ran in the direction Olga had.
"Phoebe! What's taking you so-- Brainy? What're you doing here?"
"wheeze, wheeze, uh, I dunno." And with that, and a weak wave, he too split the scene.
"So what was that all about?"
"Oh, just talking about the project, like with you and Arnold."
"Like me and Arnold, huh?" she teased.
"Oh, stop it."
"Maybe we should stop off and get YOU some ice cream?"
"Really, I mean, Brainy? Please!" were the last words heard as Helga and Phoebe deserted the area.
Meanwhile, a few hundred yards away, Lila was on the lookout for her 'Big Sis'. In due course, she found her, sprawled flat on the wet grass; or at least it was wet around her.
"Olga?"
"sigh Hello, Lila."
"Let me help you up." She did so.
Lila decided to wait for Olga to start the conversation they would have. Which meant she had a long wait. When Olga did find the words, they were dark, depressing, not at all the Olga to which Lila had become accustomed.
"I suppose you'll no longer want me as your Big Sis."
"What? Why ever not, Olga?"
"Isn't it obvious? You heard Helga; If I'm that bad at being a big sister to my real sister--"
"Olga!" Olga wasn't used to hearing such a tone from Lila either, a tone that could best be described as commanding. It got her attention.
"You're right, Olga. I did hear what Helga said, about the failures in your family including your part in them. But that has no bearing on what I feel for you. Now that you know what you've done wrong, and how, you won't make the same mistakes again."
"But--"
"Olga, listen to me. When you fail, it's not the time to give up; that would be the worst thing you could do right now. What you must now do is go back in there and fix things."
It was a script, the bare bones of which had been sketched in group meetings, but Lila was ad-libbing parts of it and doing a good job. She was liking this forceful side of her nature more and more, which would have worried her had she thought about it.
"Olga, now is the time when Helga needs you the most. You need to be there for her, to be what you weren't in the past. You have to make things right with her. She needs you and you need her, now more than ever. You have to make this up to her, to stick up for her, to watch out for her. To be a big sister, a true sister, like you should always have been to her, like you have been to me."
The levee in Olga's face finally appeared to hold back the flood. "You're right, Lila. I must make this up to her. I must right to her whom I have so wronged! But how?"
Lila smiled. "With a little help from a friend."
"You'd be willing to help me with this? Why?"
"Olga, you have been everything I could want in a Big Sis. You have done so much for me, now how could I not want to do something for you?"
A grateful smile on her face, Olga nodded. "All right. We'll do this together then. What should we do first?"
Lila hoisted the camera. "Go to the beeper emporium."
"Why there?"
"That's where your father makes commercials, isn't it? Come on; I have a plan."
The plan, for now, is lost to local ears as the sis's --- Big and Little --- found their way to the path, and then, Big Bob's Beepers.
Blocks away, another distaff two some was having a similarly earnest conversation.
"Oh, you should've seen it, Pheebs. Everything Arnold did was perfect! How he held on to me, refusing to let go even while I was hitting him. And then when I was holding him, he was still holding me, just as tightly!"
"That's wonderful, Helga!"
"I'm telling you, Phoebe, he was an angel of mercy. He must have been sent from Heaven to be there for me at my time of direst need; who knows what I'd be doing by now if he hadn't come along."
"Helga, you have no idea how happy I am for you."
"And you can't possibly have any idea how happy I am for myself. He's an angel, a flaxen-haired angel. If, God forbid, I should outlive him I will see to it that he is canonized; he's already met all of the qualifications for sainthood this side of the Great Beyond and he's just entered his teens."
"But you don't even know if he's Catholic."
"It doesn't matter. Hey, if I were Jewish I'd think he was the Messiah."
"All right, Helga, you're starting to frighten me. I'm almost certain this is coming dangerously close to--"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
"I mean, I realize you worship him and all--"
"You don't know, Pheebs, you just don't know."
Phoebe could see that line of conversation was getting nowhere, so she dropped it. "So have you told him?"
"What? Told him what?"
"You know, about, Ice Cream."
"Oh. That." Helga chewed it over for a few seconds. "Phoebe, I can't tell him that, not now! He just saved my life; how could I tell him I've been in love with him since pre-school?"
Oh dear! went through Phoebe's mind.
"I love him, Phoebe. I love him now more than I ever did. But I can't let him know, and I don't know when that will change."
Oh dear, oh dear Phoebe kept thinking; enough 'oh dears' were going through her thoughts to make a herd.
"How does he do this to me, Phoebe? I mean, can it be quantified, can it be scientifically examined? How he manages, without trying, to hold sway over my emotions, my mind, my very soul?"
"I don't know, Helga. I wish I could help you there."
"He's doing more than enough to help me. Like I told him, just knowing that he's on my side..." she trailed off.
They continued in silence until they reached the Pataki brownstone.
"Well, here's where we separate. Catch you later."
"Good afternoon, Helga."
"Sayonara, Pheebs."
Phoebe smiled; her best friend tried, she really did. Sometimes. She would have responded, but the door had already closed. Having nothing else to do but go home, she aimed her feet toward the nearest bus stop that she might do that.
click
"Is that you, Olga?"
"No, Dad. It's me, Helga."
"Oh, the girl. It's about time you got home, Olga."
Like you care, BOB! Helga thought. No further conversation took place. She slipped the family Bible into its usual place, to which a certain Wheel-watcher was oblivious; and then it was up to her room.
Minutes later, at the Heyerdahl residence:
click
"Phoebe?"
"Yes, father."
"You cut it close this time."
"I know, but I'm still in early, if not by much."
Phoebe was halfway to her room by now, when a thought struck her. She turned around and seconds later found herself back in the family room.
"Father?"
"Yes?"
"The other day I found out that a friend of mine had someone in his family tree who's a bit of a local legend."
"The kind of which your friend Gerald tells?"
"As a matter of fact I'd already heard him tell a story of someone else in the same family. Anyway, this friend told me I'd understand if there was someone 10 feet tall in my family tree."
"laughter Oh, he did?"
"Yes. I was wondering if there is anyone famous in our ancestry."
"Well, there is cousin Thor."
"Cousin Thor?"
"Actually, he's my grandfather's cousin, and a distant cousin at that. But he is a relative."
"Wait, Thor Heyerdahl?"
"I see you've heard of him."
"Of course I have! The Kon-Tiki, the Ra II... And he's related to us."
"Everyone is eventually."
"True. Well, thank you for telling me."
"You're welcome."
Those were the last words Phoebe would utter that day until dinner. In the meantime, she was in her room.
At her desk, she unfolded a piece of paper Brainy had managed to slip her under Helga's nose.
"Next meeting, bring a full package of tissues. You will need every one."
Meanwhile, Helga was facing her shrine. She too unfolded a piece of paper, once a page in her little pink book.
"Helga,
Now that I understand somewhat, I'll try not to take it too hard if you still feel the need to pick on me when we're with others. Otherwise, I meant everything I said.
Arnold.
P.S. I know you told me not to say it, but I will still wish it: Happy Birthday anyway. Someday, your birthday will be a happy occasion; I will do every thing I can to make that a reality."
Helga lowered the paper and regarded the image of her beloved, tears once again threatening to overpower her. "This has been the happiest birthday in my life, Arnold. Thanks to you."
"Thanks to you."
I hope that doesn't count as a cliffhanger; I certainly didn't intend it to be. I will continue this when I can, that is, when I have some ideas which I think are coming, and by now I'm rambling. Please continue to review, and those of you who haven't feel free to start. I'm Nftnat, on e- mail I'm nftnataol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat . Cy'all when I cy'all.
Dedicated to Thor Heyerdahl 1914-2002
Review time:
Ryoko-onee, thank you. It made me cringe too, the language and all. I'm working on Brainy's future here, obviously. And don't give up on Olga just yet. I managed to salvage Lila; I will try to do the same for Olga.
Ms. Prongs, thank you. Yes, it was intense. Now that you mention it that passage was humorous; I don't want to completely leave out the funny stuff, without which the series would be like a battery with just the negative terminal hooked up, or just the positive for that matter. I'd seen a law firm put out these announcements about mesothelioma for some time, but I hadn't really noticed the connection with asbestos until literally the day I posted the last chapter; it was one of the last things I added. Oh, no offense to anyone negatively affected by asbestos. Hope you get unstressed.
zali, thank you. Yes, it was pressurized; I'm glad you like those sections. Like I said, don't give up on Olga. The rest of Brainy's plan can't happen without her.
jc, thank you. I'm touched that you're touched. Of course, I'm touched anyway, but that's neither here nor there. I guess I can write angst.
Starry Nights, thanks, it's always good to hear from you. I really didn't think it was as much a cliffhanger as the previous two chapters were, but I guess that's a matter of opinion. You'll get part of the answer here but as to 'ever'? Well, eventually.
Anoriel, thank you. Yes, it was sad.
Houkanno Yuuhou, thanks, I also look forward to your reviews. That I made you cry, wow, it makes me a bit sad that I struck such a chord, or that such a chord's there to be struck. Fair warning; there might be more of the same here.
J.T., thanks, and I respect you too.
Roxynomekop, thanks. You have hit it right on the head. Obviously, this fic is about Brainy, but I don't want to ignore the good that Arnold continues to do. He is the 'do-goody dreamer' and I don't want to lose sight of that.
Dramagirl 310, thank you.
JESS, thank you. No, I'd never even heard of Kiwibox until you mentioned it. I'd also never seen Rent, which also uses that quote. It's an old quote, one known far and wide. The parents will find out, eventually. You'll see.
Chien, thank you as well.
Ms. Pataki, thank you.
oneblackvoice, thank you. It means a lot to me when I get such a review as yours; it's one of the more mature and discerning reviews I've gotten, which is not intending offense to all of you other reviewers. It's the kind of review I'd make myself, which I mean in a good way. Greatness? Well, I wouldn't say that, but I'm glad you did. As to your complaint, you're right; these are mature issues. That said, look at with whom we are dealing. There's Brainy, who I make a genius. There's Phoebe, who we already know is a genius. There's Lila, who's been known to get the answer in ahead of Phoebe. There's Arnold, who's been the grownup in the house for who knows how many years. And then there's Helga. How many nine-year-olds have we known to use terms like 'orzo-shaped Prometheus'? I hadn't even heard the term 'orzo' until I started watching HA! Rhozine, yes; lozenge, yes; orzo, no. But that aside, your point is well taken. I do try to keep this as close to the series as I can, which is why I await new episodes and the movie with some degree of trepidation; oh well.
And Yardbird9, thanks for your e-mail. My response? The check is in the e-mail. Or rather, check your e-mail. My response is there.
Hey Arnold! is created, owned, and / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, which in turn is owned by Viacom. Cyrano de Bergerac was written by Edmond Rostand. Scarlett O'Hara was a character in Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. The Shakespearean references, quotations and knock-offs are from The Riverside Shakespeare, copyright 1974 by Houghton-Mifflin.
Helga was paying attention to what she was saying to the extent that she didn't notice her sister backing away from the margin of the scene of the crying. The same could be said for Arnold. But Brainy did notice, and when Olga left he saw an opportunity to check on Lila. He slipped behind the blond couple, and in a matter of seconds was behind the redhead.
"It goes without saying that Olga didn't take what Helga said too well." he whispered.
Lila whispered back, "That's an understatement."
Brainy pondered. "Is it possible she didn't know all of this? Or perhaps she was repressing it."
"That's something I'll need to ask her when she comes back. If she comes back."
"She might not?"
"I don't know. I have an unfunny feeling I'll have to go looking for her, but just in case..."
"I'd better be getting back to where I was, gotcha." Before he left, he noticed. "You've been crying too."
"So have you. Who wouldn't be who's witnessed this?"
"True."
"We are doing the right thing here."
"Yes. Like I told Phoebe, they have to know. And this is the only way they will know. They wouldn't listen otherwise. Can you imagine if her father had been here instead of her sister?"
Lila shuddered. "He would have gone charging in like a bull elephant."
"And done as much damage. More."
"Mm." pause "Brainy?"
"Mm?"
"Do you really think there's hope for them, even for him?"
Brainy's turn to pause. "Yes." he whispered, and not because he had to either. "What's that old saying, while there's life there's hope? There has to be," he hissed, "for her."
While keeping her thumb on the trigger of the camera, Lila looked back at her enigmatic colleague. "You're a good person, Brainy."
Brainy broke his gaze from the scene in front of them, momentarily locking eyes with Lila. "So are you. Doing this for someone who hates you for no good reason."
"What about you, practically giving the woman you love to another?"
"As if she ever were mine to give."
"Still, Cyrano couldn't have done it better."
"He would have used words." His gaze returned to the couple. "I'm kind of envious, really. And I don't mean of Cyrano."
"Yes, you've explained that."
"I don't mean I'm jealous of Arnold because Helga's in love with him. It's the way he's so easy for everyone to be friends with. I wish I had the way with people that he has. He's not flashy or anything, in a way he's as low key as I am, but he has that certain something."
"That's about what I thought of his cousin."
"You were in love with Arnie; I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about friendship, ... I wish I could just go up to a crowd and say 'Hi. What's going on?' But I can't get past the wheezing and the shyness. Arnold? He never meets a stranger, and I don't mean that in a glad-handing way. He'll go up to anyone, celebrities even, and be comfortable like it's no big thing. Stinky was right; he does lead a charmed life."
"That reminds me, aren't we taking a chance on being found out by the others? Even if few people ever come to this particular place, it is a public park."
"It's been taken care of. Yesterday at the game we got together and worked out our schedules so that we could spend more time doing group things. It also has the benefit of letting everyone know what everyone else is doing at a given time."
"Strange, I don't remember anyone telling me about this."
"That is strange. Maybe everyone assumed you would find out from someone else or had already found out. But I told Curly, who told Eugene, who told Sheena and Harold, who told Stinky and Sid, who told Rhonda, Nadine, and Lorenzo. I also told Phoebe, who told Helga and Gerald, who told Arnold."
"How could I have missed all of that?"
"Now that I think of it, a lot of it happened while you were up at bat. I guess that some things happen on the bench that the starting lineup isn't in on."
"I suppose..."
At that moment the volume of sobbing and other noises associated with extreme sadness, which had been going up and down, took another upswing. Brainy noticed, and his attention again centered on Helga. Lila noticed this; she also noticed the pain in his expression.
"You're still in love with her." It was a statement, not a question.
Brainy was caught off guard, but he made a quick recovery. "Like I told Phoebe, I've dealt with it."
"I don't believe that; you can't just turn it on and off like a switch."
"I can try. Did I mention I'm seeing a psychiatrist?"
"Dr. Bliss, yes, you did. I'm serious, Brainy. Have you given any thought to what happens after you get Helga together with Arnold, what you'll do then?"
An uncomfortable period of comparative silence ensued, then, "I don't know. I'd chosen not to think about it."
"Going to think about it tomorrow, like Scarlett O'Hara?"
"Something like that."
"Is there someone you might be interested in, someone to take your mind off of Helga?"
Out of self-defense, and influenced somewhat by Helga, Brainy snorted. "Have you been watching too much Lawson's Lake?"
"You're avoiding the question."
"Of course I am; I learned from the best."
Lila waited, her face conveying her skepticism and her anticipation.
Brainy's face reddened. "Well, there is someone I've noticed... we don't have time for this. I need to get back to my post."
"Brainy..."
But he was already sneaking back to the other side of the blond couple.
For whom things had slowed to a dull roar. They were in each other's arms, hugging, Arnold in friendship and concern, Helga for dear life and semi-subconsciously in fulfillment of a lifelong dream. The walls she'd built? The fortress deep and mighty that none may penetrate, in the words of the song? Once he'd seen her despair, her vulnerability, what was the point? Maybe it was that, maybe it was the stigma of turning 13, maybe it was just the hormones of adolescence. For whatever reason, he now knew as much about her family as she did, thanks to her. A depressed sigh escaped her lips, drawing his attention.
"Well, it's official. My life is now over."
"You're sounding like Rhonda."
"Yeah, guess I am."
"So, why is your life over?"
"Because now you know so many of my secrets."
"I imagine you still have some."
Her mind was again drawn to the secrets she still had, one in particular. "You're right; I do."
"Well, I won't pry, Helga. Just tell me what you're comfortable with telling, or not."
"I wasn't comfortable telling you what I already did. You took advantage of me, Football-head." She gave the matter the proverbial great deal of thought, then... "I never cried so much in my life. Actually, I never cried much at all."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm a Pataki."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Besides, I've never seen you cry either."
Arnold turned his face away. "I do cry, in private, where no one can see me. Sometimes not having parents gets to me, and I..."
"I'm sorry, Arnold, I shouldn't have..."
Arnold shrugged it off, literally and otherwise. "You couldn't have known."
"Thanks."
"It seems we have similarities to each other. I don't know if my parents are alive..."
"And to my parents I might as well not be alive."
"Exactly."
They then fell into another silence; this time, for a change, Helga spoke first. She still had a lot on her mind.
"You asked what my being a Pataki has to do with not crying. It's always been understood that Patakis don't cry."
"WHAT?"
"It's true. It's always been pounded in that Patakis are tough, and since that other Pataki got elected governor of New York in '94--"
"That's right; I thought I'd heard that name before. Any relation?"
"Distantly. As soon as he heard of a successful Pataki, Bob had a genealogical search done. But aren't we all related down the line somewhere? 'They will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet'."
"Huh?"
"It's from Henry IV Part II."
"I'm impressed."
"Hey, that school play turned me on to Shakespeare. I've been reading in my spare time, I found that line and it seemed appropriate."
"Wow."
"What about you?" She now looked Arnold in the face, a small smirk on hers. "Have you been getting any use out of your birthday present?"
"Yeah, I figured I'd go through it in order, so so far I'm still on the comedies. Funny you should ask me that, though, I've been thinking--"
"Uh-oh."
"Funny again. I seem to remember some of your lines from that play, something about names."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. It was the balcony scene, you didn't know I was there listening yet, so you were basically talking to yourself. Do you remember? About names, Montagues in particular?"
"I think so."
"Try to go over it now, but substitute 'Pataki' for 'Montague'."
"Okkay." It took Helga a while to gather her thoughts, especially of lines from that far back. Arnold could see that she was having trouble, so he gathered his thoughts and threw out a line to help her.
"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"
"Thanks, Arnold. I think I have it now."
"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a, a, a Pataki.
What's Pataki? It is nor hand nor foot,
Nor arm nor face, [nor any other part]
Belonging to a man."
"You see? So you're a Pataki, so what? While one's name might be something to be proud of, it's not something that should run your life."
"I know, but..."
"You asked if I'd been getting use out of that book; wanna hear a sample?"
"Um, sure."
"Like I said, so far I've just been reading the comedies, and this one I don't find funny at all."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, but there's a passage I'm remembering now, it seems appropriate too. Let's see... oh yeah, now I remember. Only I'll substitute your name too."
Helga nodded. "Go on."
"You are a Pataki. Hath not a Pataki eyes? Hath not a Pataki hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter and summer, as a, a, as anyone of any other name is? If I prick you, do you not bleed? If I tickle you, do you not laugh? If I poison you, do you not die? And if I wrong you, shall you not revenge?"
Helga sat there agape as Arnold finished his lines. "Arnold, I'm amazed!"
"So am I, truth be told. I didn't even know it made that big an impression on me. Oh, it's from--"
"Merchant of Venice, I know. You don't find it funny."
"Maybe parts of it."
"Have you gotten to the part where Portia and Nerissa kick butt in court yet?"
"Yeah."
"An Elizabethan version of girl power!"
"Yeah. It's a bit anti-Semitic for my taste, though."
"True."
Another extended silence; again, Helga broke it.
"So what now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Now that you know, well, what you know."
This time Arnold was the one who sighed. "I wish I could tell you, Helga, I really do. With my talent for helping people, pulling off miracles even--"
"So you've noticed." Helga teased.
Arnold smiled and blushed. "Yeah. But I don't even know where to start with this one." he continued, the grin fading into sadness. "All I can come up with so far you probably wouldn't want any part of."
"What?"
"Oh, calling the authorities."
"WHAT?"
"Yeah, child neglect, mental cruelty--"
"Arnold, don't do that, please!"
"I won't. But you see what I mean? If that's all I can come up with..." he trailed off into another sigh. Helga acknowledged the situation, matching Arnold's sigh with one of her own.
"But I will keep trying to think of something."
"I know you will."
"Helga, is that really how things are, about Patakis not crying?"
"Yeah, football-head, it's really how things are. As far back as I can remember it's been, Patakis are tough, Patakis bounce back, Patakis are winners, Patakis don't talk about their feelings, Patakis don't cry--"
"Except for Olga."
"You said it; she is the exception."
"Where does all this come from, about what's expected of Patakis?"
"Are you kidding? Big Bob of course."
"And you follow what he says, even when you're not around him."
"Well, yes."
"That would explain why you think you need to be a mean bully." A welter of thoughts and feelings went through Helga's mind while Arnold sifted through his own thoughts. Finally... "Interesting."
"What?"
"Even after all that he's done, with what you feel about him and everything, you still follow his lead."
"Huh?"
"Don't you see, Helga? Despite everything, you still want his approval and are still trying to get it."
That observation cut Helga to the quick; she felt another storm coming on. Arnold was ready; he caught her and held her while she had another cry. Finally...
"Now I think about it, that's one of the reasons I'm so jealous of Lila."
"I didn't know you were jealous of Lila."
You have no idea she thought. What she said, though, was "Oh yeah, you don't know what we did to her her first weeks here. Lemme tell you..."
Helga then launched into her memories of the beginning of P.S.118's acquaintance with Miss Perfect of Pleasantville. The one as smart as Phoebe, as stylish as Rhonda, and with all the guys at her feet. Off to the side, the subject of Helga's current monologue was spellbound at the other side of her first experiences in Hillwood. She too found herself renewing her acquaintance with tears as she heard of the jealousies, the pranks, the mild sadism, and finally the scene at the tenement building where the Sawyers lived.
"...and they were crying, both of them, together! I couldn't handle it; I had a breakdown on the spot. Phoebe had to slap me to bring me out of it."
"Whoa!"
"Exactly. And then later, after we made up with her, and that Mitchell guy called changing his mind about the job, they were so happy. I mean, there they were, the poorest people we'd ever met, and for all I know no mother just the two of them, and yet so happy..."
She broke down yet again; this was not a good day for Helga's self- control. She'd been sweeping these things under the rug for so long, as per her father's instructions. And now the rug had been pulled back, and she found herself in mortal combat with killer dustbunnies, to extend the metaphor. She struggled to get her next words out.
"I've never seen my dad cry, not really. Never. And then when they were happy, she was loving him so freely, so openly. And he was loving her back! She's so unafraid to show her emotions, how could I not be jealous of her? I would give anything to be able to love my dad like that. Anything."
Arnold didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do either, so he just held her. It was enough.
Lila had lost it. It was all she could do to keep herself from bawling long and loud. Fortunately the blond couple were preoccupied; otherwise they would have discovered her. On the other side, Brainy too was in agony. His heart went out to both girls; he longed to comfort them. Helga had Arnold, so Brainy looked across the way, toward Lila. Seeing her so upset and being unable to do anything about it tore at him. Eventually...
For part of Helga, despite the circumstances, she was in paradise. Right now, she was closer to her beloved than she had ever been, physically and otherwise. He had found out many of her secrets, had comforted her, had been a shoulder for her to cry on, had held her, was holding her still. She felt like she could die right then and there, so full she considered her life at that point. Or better, she felt like she could almost tell him... but wait. What was that? A pulse she could feel coming from Arnold, a vibration, almost like...
Laughter.
Arnold was laughing. At her? After all that had happened, all that she had told him? Someone was really asking for it, bucko!
She swung around to face him, her brows lowered to a dangerous level. "All right, you'd BETTER have an explanation for laughing!"
Arnold, sporting a faint smile, immediately became conciliatory. "I'm sorry, Helga. It's not you, it's us; it's the situation."
"Wha-?"
"Well, look at us! Think about it; this morning, would you have ever thought that anything like this could ever happen, the two of us like this?"
Helga did think about it. While she'd had fantasies about just such a situation, she had never seriously given it any thought that it could come true. The realization, along with the fulfillment of parts of her dreams, hit her, causing a bit of giddiness. While she managed to hold the giddiness in check, there was nothing she could do to stop the chuckles she found leaving her own mouth.
The two of them had a good laugh, then settled down again. Arnold faced her once again.
"It's good to be able to laugh, isn't it?"
"snort, yeah." Another prolonged silence followed.
Arnold then turned to Helga, took her by the hand, again, and summoned up all the earnestness he could muster; which for him was second nature. "Helga, I don't know what's going to happen with regard to this, I don't know what to do about it, but I will keep thinking about it until I figure out something."
"I know you will, and that's enough. Just knowing that you're on my side..."
"Well, I am. And another thing: if you ever need to talk to someone about this, about anything, I'm here."
"For that matter, you can feel free to talk to me about anything that might be bothering you, too."
"Thanks. Don't worry, Helga; you're not alone anymore."
Helga could only smile; her heart and mind too full of words. But Arnold reconsidered.
"Wait, maybe I'm overstepping the bounds there. I guess you already tell Phoebe about all of this."
"No I don't. She probably knows some of it at least, but it's not from me telling her."
"I would think you would tell your best friend."
"Do you tell Gerald these things, like how about what happened at the beach?"
"He wouldn't understand that, but Phoebe would."
"True. Well, do you tell him how you feel about your parents?"
"I see what you're getting at. It's just something you don't talk about."
"Exactly."
"Hey, Arnold!"
It was Gerald, who accompanied by Phoebe was now approaching them. "Speak of the devil." Helga muttered.
Arnold gave her that look, one eyebrow raised, one lowered.
She got the message. "I'll go easy on him." she said.
Which was about all she had a chance to say, as Gerald came running up in between them just after they broke off their embrace, just in time for him to not see it.
"Hey Arn- Helga?"
"Congratulations, Geraldo, you pass the eye exam."
"Right." Gerald then pulled his best friend aside. "Arnold, what're you doing with Helga Pataki?"
"I heard that, Tall Hair Boy. For your information, Arnoldo was bringing me up to speed on the group project; right?" Helga came to Arnold's rescue, as it were.
Arnold caught on. "Right. In fact, Helga, there's a little bit more I didn't get to tell you; can I borrow a sheet of paper so I can write it for you?"
"Um, sure, whatever floats your boat, football-head." The books were still with Helga, at her feet. She picked up the little pink one, turned it to a blank page, and tearing out said page handed it to Arnold. "But I can only spare one sheet so you'd better write small."
But Gerald still wasn't satisfied. "Wait, Arnold, why write it instead of telling her?"
Now it was Phoebe's turn to come to the rescue, a role at which she'd had considerably more experience. "It's because I'm here, Gerald."
"That's right, Geraldo. I mean, she's my best friend, but rules are rules. She hasn't told me what she's up to with Brainy and Liii-la, and she shouldn't. Same reason."
"Right."
"Oh."
"Here you go, Helga." said Arnold, coming back into the scene; he'd had to find a surface on which to lay the sheet of paper while he wrote. "You might want to wait until you get home to read it."
"Doi! That's what I was going to do, football-head." Then it was her turn to make a couple uncomfortable. "Wait, what are you two doing together?"
"Uh, looking for you two of course, right Phoebe?"
"Oh. Right."
"Anyway," said Gerald, "now that we've found each other I guess we'd better get going?"
Murmurs of agreement were heard as the group of four dispersed. Arnold and Gerald, after the customary thumb wiggle, went in one direction, Arnold looking back briefly at Helga.
She went in the other direction. "Yo! Phoebe!"
"Coming!" Phoebe called back, but she hung back for a bit; she suspected something.
Her suspicion was confirmed as, from either side of her, Brainy and Lila came out of the bushes; they met each other where Phoebe stood.
"So how did it go?"
"Harrowing." the other two intoned in unison.
"What now?"
"Olga." was the only word Lila said before she ran in the direction Olga had.
"Phoebe! What's taking you so-- Brainy? What're you doing here?"
"wheeze, wheeze, uh, I dunno." And with that, and a weak wave, he too split the scene.
"So what was that all about?"
"Oh, just talking about the project, like with you and Arnold."
"Like me and Arnold, huh?" she teased.
"Oh, stop it."
"Maybe we should stop off and get YOU some ice cream?"
"Really, I mean, Brainy? Please!" were the last words heard as Helga and Phoebe deserted the area.
Meanwhile, a few hundred yards away, Lila was on the lookout for her 'Big Sis'. In due course, she found her, sprawled flat on the wet grass; or at least it was wet around her.
"Olga?"
"sigh Hello, Lila."
"Let me help you up." She did so.
Lila decided to wait for Olga to start the conversation they would have. Which meant she had a long wait. When Olga did find the words, they were dark, depressing, not at all the Olga to which Lila had become accustomed.
"I suppose you'll no longer want me as your Big Sis."
"What? Why ever not, Olga?"
"Isn't it obvious? You heard Helga; If I'm that bad at being a big sister to my real sister--"
"Olga!" Olga wasn't used to hearing such a tone from Lila either, a tone that could best be described as commanding. It got her attention.
"You're right, Olga. I did hear what Helga said, about the failures in your family including your part in them. But that has no bearing on what I feel for you. Now that you know what you've done wrong, and how, you won't make the same mistakes again."
"But--"
"Olga, listen to me. When you fail, it's not the time to give up; that would be the worst thing you could do right now. What you must now do is go back in there and fix things."
It was a script, the bare bones of which had been sketched in group meetings, but Lila was ad-libbing parts of it and doing a good job. She was liking this forceful side of her nature more and more, which would have worried her had she thought about it.
"Olga, now is the time when Helga needs you the most. You need to be there for her, to be what you weren't in the past. You have to make things right with her. She needs you and you need her, now more than ever. You have to make this up to her, to stick up for her, to watch out for her. To be a big sister, a true sister, like you should always have been to her, like you have been to me."
The levee in Olga's face finally appeared to hold back the flood. "You're right, Lila. I must make this up to her. I must right to her whom I have so wronged! But how?"
Lila smiled. "With a little help from a friend."
"You'd be willing to help me with this? Why?"
"Olga, you have been everything I could want in a Big Sis. You have done so much for me, now how could I not want to do something for you?"
A grateful smile on her face, Olga nodded. "All right. We'll do this together then. What should we do first?"
Lila hoisted the camera. "Go to the beeper emporium."
"Why there?"
"That's where your father makes commercials, isn't it? Come on; I have a plan."
The plan, for now, is lost to local ears as the sis's --- Big and Little --- found their way to the path, and then, Big Bob's Beepers.
Blocks away, another distaff two some was having a similarly earnest conversation.
"Oh, you should've seen it, Pheebs. Everything Arnold did was perfect! How he held on to me, refusing to let go even while I was hitting him. And then when I was holding him, he was still holding me, just as tightly!"
"That's wonderful, Helga!"
"I'm telling you, Phoebe, he was an angel of mercy. He must have been sent from Heaven to be there for me at my time of direst need; who knows what I'd be doing by now if he hadn't come along."
"Helga, you have no idea how happy I am for you."
"And you can't possibly have any idea how happy I am for myself. He's an angel, a flaxen-haired angel. If, God forbid, I should outlive him I will see to it that he is canonized; he's already met all of the qualifications for sainthood this side of the Great Beyond and he's just entered his teens."
"But you don't even know if he's Catholic."
"It doesn't matter. Hey, if I were Jewish I'd think he was the Messiah."
"All right, Helga, you're starting to frighten me. I'm almost certain this is coming dangerously close to--"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
"I mean, I realize you worship him and all--"
"You don't know, Pheebs, you just don't know."
Phoebe could see that line of conversation was getting nowhere, so she dropped it. "So have you told him?"
"What? Told him what?"
"You know, about, Ice Cream."
"Oh. That." Helga chewed it over for a few seconds. "Phoebe, I can't tell him that, not now! He just saved my life; how could I tell him I've been in love with him since pre-school?"
Oh dear! went through Phoebe's mind.
"I love him, Phoebe. I love him now more than I ever did. But I can't let him know, and I don't know when that will change."
Oh dear, oh dear Phoebe kept thinking; enough 'oh dears' were going through her thoughts to make a herd.
"How does he do this to me, Phoebe? I mean, can it be quantified, can it be scientifically examined? How he manages, without trying, to hold sway over my emotions, my mind, my very soul?"
"I don't know, Helga. I wish I could help you there."
"He's doing more than enough to help me. Like I told him, just knowing that he's on my side..." she trailed off.
They continued in silence until they reached the Pataki brownstone.
"Well, here's where we separate. Catch you later."
"Good afternoon, Helga."
"Sayonara, Pheebs."
Phoebe smiled; her best friend tried, she really did. Sometimes. She would have responded, but the door had already closed. Having nothing else to do but go home, she aimed her feet toward the nearest bus stop that she might do that.
click
"Is that you, Olga?"
"No, Dad. It's me, Helga."
"Oh, the girl. It's about time you got home, Olga."
Like you care, BOB! Helga thought. No further conversation took place. She slipped the family Bible into its usual place, to which a certain Wheel-watcher was oblivious; and then it was up to her room.
Minutes later, at the Heyerdahl residence:
click
"Phoebe?"
"Yes, father."
"You cut it close this time."
"I know, but I'm still in early, if not by much."
Phoebe was halfway to her room by now, when a thought struck her. She turned around and seconds later found herself back in the family room.
"Father?"
"Yes?"
"The other day I found out that a friend of mine had someone in his family tree who's a bit of a local legend."
"The kind of which your friend Gerald tells?"
"As a matter of fact I'd already heard him tell a story of someone else in the same family. Anyway, this friend told me I'd understand if there was someone 10 feet tall in my family tree."
"laughter Oh, he did?"
"Yes. I was wondering if there is anyone famous in our ancestry."
"Well, there is cousin Thor."
"Cousin Thor?"
"Actually, he's my grandfather's cousin, and a distant cousin at that. But he is a relative."
"Wait, Thor Heyerdahl?"
"I see you've heard of him."
"Of course I have! The Kon-Tiki, the Ra II... And he's related to us."
"Everyone is eventually."
"True. Well, thank you for telling me."
"You're welcome."
Those were the last words Phoebe would utter that day until dinner. In the meantime, she was in her room.
At her desk, she unfolded a piece of paper Brainy had managed to slip her under Helga's nose.
"Next meeting, bring a full package of tissues. You will need every one."
Meanwhile, Helga was facing her shrine. She too unfolded a piece of paper, once a page in her little pink book.
"Helga,
Now that I understand somewhat, I'll try not to take it too hard if you still feel the need to pick on me when we're with others. Otherwise, I meant everything I said.
Arnold.
P.S. I know you told me not to say it, but I will still wish it: Happy Birthday anyway. Someday, your birthday will be a happy occasion; I will do every thing I can to make that a reality."
Helga lowered the paper and regarded the image of her beloved, tears once again threatening to overpower her. "This has been the happiest birthday in my life, Arnold. Thanks to you."
"Thanks to you."
I hope that doesn't count as a cliffhanger; I certainly didn't intend it to be. I will continue this when I can, that is, when I have some ideas which I think are coming, and by now I'm rambling. Please continue to review, and those of you who haven't feel free to start. I'm Nftnat, on e- mail I'm nftnataol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat . Cy'all when I cy'all.
Dedicated to Thor Heyerdahl 1914-2002