And here, finally, is the long-awaited, long-hyped (by me) montage
chapter. As it is a bit of a montage, keep in mind that it will be a bit
scattershot. All right, a lot scattershot. But please try to bear with me
as this is unexplored territory for me. Also, you should know that this
chapter will be intense, a bit of an emotional roller-coaster ride. And
that will get worse in succeeding chapters. There will be violence, kind
of, which is strange considering I'm usually the one given to preach on my
reviews (right SN?). Anyway, you've been warned.
Again, the reviews overwhelm. I now officially have exactly 10 reviews per chapter (190 reviews divided by 19 chapters). I have 190 reasons to keep going with this and for those reasons I am so stoked; the reason this is going so slowly is that I'm trying to make everything perfect. Also, sometimes I work from scratch. And this chapter was supposed to go by quickly; well, maybe it is and I'm just not seeing it.
Chinyere, or chineymange, thanks beaucoups. No, you've never reviewed any of my stuff before, unless it was under another name; but you certainly have made up for lost time. You're right; I am quite the fan of the show, and when I do something I try to do it right, which means immersing myself in my sources. I have seen potential in the series for exploring the potential in the characters, particularly Brainy, obviously. I find it hard to believe he could keep sneaking up behind Helga unless he had something on the ball, so I developed the idea of the smart Brainy. And I don't think you're long-winded at all, but I would say that.
Thank you, cc17. Here's more.
Thanks, Ami. But I'm not nearly finished; there is ever so much more ground to cover. I'm not surprised that you cried at times; I know I did.
zali, thank you for both of your reviews. I'm aiming for more cuteness with those two; maybe you'd say there's some of that here, but not nearly as much as in the future. You're from the Philippines, got it. As to your question, I'm not in college, not since 1998. (Texas A&M-Texarkana, and no, I'm not an Aggie) Also, I'm not a girl.
Thanks, Paradox. You're right, that is easier. Olga is on the job, and before I'm done I will make people like her. And Miriam will have her moments too; it's going to be intense.
Thank you, selement. And calm yourself; I've no intention of giving up on this. I want to see where this leads as much as anyone, if not more.
Thanks, J.T. You're right, it is predictable, but she has to have someone, doesn't she? Doesn't she? Yes, I am the history buff. I get all this stuff from reading. All I want to know is everything. I'll keep supplying you with stuff to read and review, as fast as I'm able to.
And thank you, Miss Matched. Hoo boy, I'm responsible for these Brainy fan-girls, what am I going to do? I have never heard that song, or have I? I don't think I have. As to your review of a previous chapter, it is Job chapter 3.
Thanks, Houkanno Yuuhou. Actually, I hadn't known of that debate until you called my attention to it, but I'm very interested in it and it gives all of us something to think about. There's quite a bit of stuff you've said to which I must devote the proverbial great deal of thought. I don't know quite how to respond, really. Would you believe I have a brother named Paul? And my grandmother had your name. You should know that the finale is far, far away; but it will be well worth it imo. I'm surprised you've not seen those episodes; oh well, Halloween and Thanksgiving aren't that far away. And I'd be the last one to complain about someone's review becoming a short story as mine usually do.
Thank you, Helga243. Here's more.
Thanks, Nory, or SummerRose now. Yeah, you caught me. Mmm, could be.
Thank you, brianaluvsfootballhead. I've updated already, but keep in mind that quality takes time, and I hope this is quality. As to the other chapters, yeah, that was intense. I know, I don't like all the 'he said she said' stuff, so sometimes I go too far the other way. And yes, I did dump on Miss Felter a bit, but I needed to fill out the quartet. It's reasonable to think that Helga might have found out about Arnold's crush on her and, well, you can imagine. Speaking of imagining, mine can be quite disturbing at times, as I said at the time.
Thanks, Hufflepuffer. I'm keeping on writing. And I did cry, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
Thank you, Sleather. I try to address some of the points you raise here. And I'm trying to include some A/H stuff too; the whole point is to get them together, right? And I'm working on getting Brainy to notice Lila. I'm so happy that you like her; it means that what I'm doing is working.
This past Sunday I received two e-mails. One of them followed it with an IM compliment. You know who you are. Unfortunately, I've forgotten your name and I didn't bother to save either one; but I did appreciate both of them. Thanks.
And thank you to the other one who e-mailed me that Sunday. Chachi, Chachi, Chachi... (all right, so I'm a Happy Days fan) I am hurrying on this.
Thanks as well to Mandy, or PineViewGramma. Thanks for waiting.
And SoSRomansSoS, you just made it in under the wire. Thank you too. Your IM was appreciated; it came in just after I finished these acknowledgments, people.
Hey Arnold! and all Hey Arnold! concepts are created, owned, and / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, a unit of Viacom.
Pictures At An Exhibition was written by Modest Mussorgsky and was included by Emerson Lake & Palmer on the live Rhino album Pictures at an Exhibition.
Unanswered Prayers was written by Pat Alger, Larry B. Bastian, and Garth Brooks; and is copyright 1989 Bait and Beer Music (Adm. by PolyGram International Publishing, Inc.) (ASCAP) / Forerunner Music, Inc. (ASCAP) / Major Bob Music Co. Inc. (ASCAP) / Mid-Summer Music, Inc. (ASCAP). All rights reserved. It was included on the album (yes, I still call them albums, I'm that old) No Fences by Garth Brooks copyright 1990 Caged Panther Music and Garthart under exclusive license to Capitol Records, and was re-released as part of the boxed set Garth Brooks The Limited Series, Capitol Records, 1998.
For the next several weeks, the trio's activities fell into a definite pattern.
On Friday, somehow, another note would find its way to Arnold. And Brainy could be creative about getting him the message.
............................................................................
A typical Friday night. Another ball game in the books, Arnold and his best friend are engaging in their usual Friday night activity: checkers before turning in.
WHAP!
"Did you just hear something?"
"Nope."
WHAP!"
"Come on, you can't tell me you didn't hear that."
Arnold rises from the fold-out couch where the checkerboard sets and walks toward the window where he keeps his bonsai. Seconds later, he's seconded by his best friend.
"What did it sound like, Arnold?"
"You heard it."
"Like someone was throwing rocks at the window?"
"I'd say it was more like dropping rocks."
"How can you tell the difference between the sound of a rock being thrown and a rock being dropped?"
"You mean you can't?"
"Sound never was a field I studied very much. My man Fuzzy Slippers says--"
WHAP!
"There! You heard it that time, right?"
"I heard it last time, probably the first time too."
"So why'd you pretend not to?"
"Here we are." Gerald changed the subject as they reached the window.
Arnold gazed through the glass into the darkness outside, trying to see something, anything.
"Whoever it is, is out there, Gerald."
"So what are you going to do about it?"
Arnold said nothing; he just pondered the situation for a few minutes. Then, wordlessly, his arms went out to the window and pulled.
As soon as the window opened wide enough, the twosome got a shock as something whizzed past them.
"What was that?!?"
"Whatever it was, it was quiet. Didn't do any damage either."
"So we can rule out a sniper? Other than Helga Pataki?"
Arnold bit his tongue to stop his reply; he couldn't explain it, but the time he was spending with Helga was working on him. The term one might use is that she was growing on him, not that she hadn't been before that summer. Instead of the heated response that was his first instinct, he reverted to one of his trademarks. "Whatever you say, Gerald; whatever you say."
By now he was scanning his room for anything out of the ordinary. "Wait, that must be it."
He pointed toward the only thing in the room that hadn't been there before: a paper airplane on the bed.
"You think?"
Arnold was now making a beeline for the bed, calling behind him, "Gerald, would you please close the window?"
"Um, sure." As he closed it, Gerald imitated his friend's action of looking through the window. His gaze then shifted to the skylights.
"Don't bother, Gerald. Whoever it is, never leaves a trace."
"Weird."
Arnold didn't answer.
"Arnold?"
"'Chez Paris, and a sophisticated someone.'"
"That's what it says?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Still think they're about Helga Pataki?"
"Yes."
"Why? Why would someone want you to keep thinking about her?"
"I don't know."
"Man, it's freaky! Every Friday you get another one of these, no warning, no nothing, not a single clue to go on, so we're no closer to figuring it out than we were on the last day of school!"
"I know."
"And it's not like we haven't tried. We've examined the paper, the ink, the paste, even dusted for prints, nothing! This person's very cloak and dagger, whoever is doing this to you."
"I know that too."
"So who's doing this to you, and what are you supposed to know?"
"That I don't know."
By now Arnold was thumbing through a sheaf of "old" correspondence.
Q-U-A-L-X? Who's kidding whom?
Was there an apology after your magic act?
'Bio-Square' wasn't a failure, was it?
How was the float paid for?
The Wittenberg wedding. Was someone practicing their vows?
That Thanksgiving wasn't such a total disaster, was it?
What happened during the flood?
Romeo & Juliet
Now Gerald was doing one of the stereotypical rude things: reading over someone's shoulder. Suddenly, he snatched one of the sheets.
"Hey!"
"This one I especially don't understand. No message; just a date."
..............................................................
Back a few weeks. The trio is in one of their meetings. This time Brainy is letting Phoebe compose the message.
"It is the date on which Helga thought she was about to expire from monkeynucleosis."
An involuntary giggle escaped from Lila, drawing her accomplices' attention.
"I'm sorry, it's just that that word sounds ever so silly."
"Silly or not, it was considered important enough at one time to be mentioned in that book of debunked diseases."
"It actually said it was debunked, in the book?"
"On the cover, and several times in that particular article."
This time, a sigh escaped. And this time, the loss was Brainy's.
"So she sees clear and abundant proof that the disease is nonexistent, that it has been debunked and disproved, she says so herself a number of times, and still she believes in it. Only Helga."
"You'd be surprised how we don't see what's right in front of us." Lila mused, her gaze skirting the edges of her male associate.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Momentarily stymied on that end, Brainy turned his attention elsewhere. "So, Phoebe, what happened with that for Arnold to notice her?"
"I'm not sure."
"You're not sure? Phoebe, you know how critical every phase of this plan is; I assume you have a bit more to go on than 'I'm not sure'."
"And you know what they say about people who assume."
"Point to Heyerdahl; welcome to the game, Phoebe."
"Lila!"
"Brainy! or should I say Edward?"
"SHH! Only in private, PLEASE!"
"We are in private."
Now Phoebe found herself suppressing laughter as she watched her associates go each at the other. She found herself admiring what a cute couple they did make. But she knew it had to end. "Ahem."
Heads turned. "Yes?"
"Would you like to hear what I have on which to base my suspicions, as you were asking me a minute ago?"
"Yes."
"All right. You see, Helga was acting eccentric, even for her. She called a bunch of us up there and gave away all of her stuff; gave me her books. And if my experience was any indication, she was accompanying the bestowals with lines of treacle so cheesy--"
"Never mind that treacle and cheese aren't anything alike."
"You're interrupting."
"Sorry."
"As I was about to say, hindsight being 20/20 I now have a pretty good idea of what would've happened with regard to Arnold, but at the time I was interested in that book of phony diseases. When I came to the monkeynucleosis entry I put two and two together and headed back for her room. When I burst in Arnold was there, but I wasn't thinking of anything except reassuring Helga. After I left, though, I hung back a bit. Apparently she was about to tell him something when she thought she was going to expire; care to guess what that something was?"
............................................................
As the sessions went on, other sessions went on too, involving the other groups:
"BWA-HAHAHAHAHAH!!"
"This had better work, Curly, or I'm going to pound you!"
"Willikers, Harold, I reckon it's gonna work."
"FREE THE ANIMALS!!!"
"Ah, stop it! Curlyyyyyyyy..."
"Try to keep up, you two."
"Coming Rhonda."
"Nadine, see what's the holdup with Sid."
.................................
"Sid?"
"Hmm?"
"What's the holdup?"
"Nothing."
"If you stare at that recruitment poster any harder..."
"Just wondering how I'd look in a Navy uniform."
"Handsome. Now come on, before Rhonda blows it."
"As if that were anything new."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"I really don't know about this, Sheena."
"It's all right, Eugene. Don't worry; I'll be, um, we'll be there for you."
"Right. What she said."
............................................................................ ......
And things were progressing with the group of Arnold and Helga and Gerald as well.
"I gotta hit the office, you two."
"Heh, you're hangin' around here too much, Hair Boy; you're starting to talk like Phil."
"You know, she's right?"
"Wait, why do you get to call him Phil; he puts up a fuss whenever I do."
"'Cause Phil likes me."
"Aw, man!"
"Oh, Gerald, remember--"
"I know, if I run into any of the boarders, they can smell fear. You're talking to the epitome of cool, Arnold."
slam
"Whadda ya wanna bet he's gone for at least a half hour."
"It is a ways to the office."
"I'm countin' on him gettin' cornered."
"Helga."
"I'm behaving."
pause
"Arnold?"
A blond head turned. "Yes?"
"Why have you been doing this, spending all this time with me?"
"After your birthday, you can ask that?"
Helga frowned. "It had better not be pity; I hate pity!"
"It's not pity, Helga."
"I don't think I could handle being pitied, especially by you."
"Helga, it's not pity, really."
"Really?"
"Really. Why wouldn't I want to hang with you? We're friends, aren't we?"
"Well, I guess..."
"So it shouldn't be any surprise that I value the time we have together, Helga. I really like talking with you, finding out more about you. You've..."
"What?"
"I've always thought there was something about you, something you wouldn't let anyone see. I've wanted to get to know that person, and I'm thankful that you're letting me get that chance."
Helga had to turn away. "Arnold, I..."
They were saved by the bell, so to speak, as Gerald returned.
"His coolness has returned."
"So soon?"
"What, did Phil forget to change the roll or something?"
"Very funny, Helga. No, I just got done fast. It's a guy thing."
Grumbling, Helga excused herself for her turn.
"You wanna bet she takes at least half an hour?"
"Gerald!"
"Okkay, so you don't. So, anything happen?"
............................................................................ .
Meanwhile, the usual things were going on with the Triumphant Trio. At their meetings, they'd discuss things about the project, and things not necessarily related to same, like what kind of music to listen to while planning. One day...
"All right, ladies." Brainy started as he walked to a blackboard brought in to his planning room for the occasion. "Let's look at this mathematically."
As he talked he diagrammed his monologue on the blackboard like it was some higher math problem, with fractals and cosecants and such.
"Lila, you prefer country. Phoebe, you prefer J-Pop. And I, well, my tastes are just weird. Now, the one musical style equidistant from all three of them is, art rock."
"Art rock?" Lila asked.
"Yes. It has everything. It's esoteric, populist, bombastic, pretentious, it's based on classical which according to the experts is the preferred music for learning by..."
"Wait." Phoebe had to ask. "You figured this out through math?"
"Music is very mathematical." Lila put in.
Phoebe had no answer.
So, art rock it was. After a bit of experimenting the three settled on Emerson Lake & Palmer. And yes, part of the reason was that the two threesomes had the same initials, ELP. In no time at all they'd even decided on a signal for emergency meetings: whistling the first six notes of "Pictures at an Exhibition".
............................................................................
Turning from music to sports, have I mentioned the Friday ball games? It seems the blond couple had developed a rapport there.
It's a typical Friday evening. This time it's Wolfgang's Wolves vs. Helga's Angels.
It's the top of the inning. Full count on Edmund, at the plate for the Wolves with Wolfgang on second. One out.
Harold on the mound for the Angels, about to pitch to Edmund. Wolfgang takes the opportunity to try to steal third. Arnold at shortstop notices immediately.
"Harold!"
Harold turns on a quarter --- inflation, as well as his bulk --- and throws to Arnold. Got him! Wolfgang is now trapped in a rundown. You would have to be Jackie Robinson to get out of this situation, and Wolfgang is no Jackie Robinson.
"Out!"
Wolfgang, on the ground, short of second, looks up at a triumphant Arnold. The blond hero looks down on him, half-smiling, eyes half-lidded, eyebrows waggling, the face that says 'I've beaten you and we both know it.'
At the plate, Edmund looks on in wonder.
"Huh. Who would've thought a football-head would have such a head for baseball?"
Behind the catchers mask, Helga smiles. Then she decides to rattle her opponent.
"He's good at football too. Or have you forgotten the Mudbowl?"
"What?" Edmund turns his head, just in time for Harold's pitch.
"Strike three! You're out." the Jolly Olly man calls, doing his usual sadistic job at umpire.
Which is the final out for the Wolves. As the teams change out for the Angels' batting order, no one notices a wink passing between Arnold and Helga.
"Nice play, football-head."
"Thanks."
............................................................................ .......
And now, for another look in on the trio.
POW!
WHAM!
Brainy hadn't hit the floor before the other two ran to him, Lila ridden with guilt.
"Are you all right, Brainy?"
He just smiled. "I've felt worse, much worse."
"I'm ever so sorry about that--"
Brainy held up his hand to silence her. "No need to apologize; I did practically order you to hit me. And it was a breeze compared to what I've felt from Ol' Betsy."
"Still--"
"Lila, really, it's all right." Brainy paused long enough to get to his feet, then continued. "In fact it's more than all right; it's necessary. As I've explained, Olga has to be toughened up to prepare her for the confrontation. And you have to be toughened up so you'll be able to toughen her up." His eyes narrowed at her. "And if you're going to get Olga ready to face her father, you'll have to do better than that."
Lila's frustration was showing. "But I still don't see how it would accomplish anything for me to strike her."
"Wait," Phoebe interrupted, "am I to understand Olga is to be trained to use physical force on her father when the time comes?"
"No no, that's not what I mean at all." Brainy started.
He then went silent; the girls could see the gears turning in his mind. Finally...
"I think we'll need to sit down for this." He then walked toward a bare place in the floor of the Heyerdahl fencing room.
Turning, he addressed his associates. "Ladies?"
Without a word, Lila and Phoebe joined Brainy. He then sat on the floor, cross-legged. They did likewise; by now they were used to his leadership and went along without question, most of the time.
Wordlessly, they watched, and waited for him to begin. His eyes were closed, giving the impression of prayer, or meditation; deep breaths and the position of his hands, at rest on his knees, indicated the latter, like some kind of a guru or yogi. After several deep cleansing breaths, the eyes opened, and he began.
"Let me try, if I can, to explain the sisters Pataki.
"Helga and Olga, you see, are flip sides of the same coin. They're from the same gene pool, only one used sun-block and the other didn't." Immediately, his eyes closed as the fingers of one hand flew up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Man, that analogy sucked."
The girls said nothing as Brainy strove to re-collect his thoughts.
"All right, look at things this way. All of her young life, Helga has been exposed to, well, you know to what she's been exposed."
Phoebe nodded in agreement.
"And Olga had been exposed to the same stuff. The difference has been in how they have dealt with it.
"Helga has been under enormous pressure. She has dealt with it by choosing to defy it. And over the years she has built strong, tough walls to keep the pressures out. Problem is they keep other things out too, like emotions. But that's to be expected given how emotionally controlled Patakis are expected to be.
"Olga, on the other hand, has chosen the other path, the path called milksop. She has completely caved in to whatever was placed on her, done everything expected and more to try to win the love and regard of those she loves and regards the most. And it's worked. Her parents dote on her, she's even exempted from the emotional control Patakis are supposed to have. The cost, as we have seen, is her personality, her individuality."
"Interesting, and true," Phoebe mused, "but what does it have to do with hitting?"
Brainy looked her in the eyes. "How many times have you seen Helga cry?"
She had to think about that one, long and hard. "Gee I, I don't know. I suppose I could count the number of times on one hand."
"Any time in particular?" Brainy led, his eyes narrowing as he focused on her.
Phoebe devoted the proverbial great deal of thought to the question, then frowned as the full implication of Brainy's leading finally hit home. "You mean that time we were mean to Lila."
"Yes."
Phoebe's features hardened; she really didn't want to go there. "I really don't want to do this."
"I realize that, but this is necessary, a means to an end."
Of course, Lila was very interested in this. "Excuse me? I think I have some idea of what you two are talking about, but it would be oh so nice if you would share it with me, seeing that it seems to concern me, and that I'm here listening to it anyway."
Phoebe was fixed in Brainy's sights. "Why don't you tell her, Phoebe? You were there."
It took a great deal of prying, with some details having to be filled in by replaying the tape of Helga from her birthday, but eventually the whole story was told: the new girl, the jealousy, the pranks, the desolation, and finally, the contrition. Of course Lila already knew what had happened back then, but not quite all of Helga and the others' p.o.v. And the memories recalled brought with them the feelings all of the people involved had experienced at the time.
By the time it was over, Phoebe and Lila were crying in each other's arms. If nothing else, this project would at least have the effect of bringing the two of them together.
Brainy looked on, silently weeping himself at the sad recollections. He dabbed his eyes while waiting for a break in the waterlogged reverie, passing around yet another package of tissues. When the noise died down, he finally addressed the assembly.
"You see, that was the only time that Helga really lost control of herself. The only time Phoebe here had to strike her, to snap her out of it, to bring her to her senses.
"Helga doesn't break down often because she's built emotional walls so massive, so solid, so impregnable that there's only a break once in a blue moon. Or at least one she can't handle; normally she's able to slap herself, mostly when she's around Arnold. But Olga hasn't built those walls; she hasn't had to. So far she's been able to get by on her talents and her accomplishments --- intellectual, social, charitable, et cetera.
"But up to recently she's never dealt with confrontation. Were she to try to face Big Bob, not even two months ago, she would've crumbled like a soggy fish stick.
"That situation has changed recently, though. We've been working on her, right, Lila?"
Lila was caught by surprise at the sudden directing of a question to her. "Um, yes, yes we have."
Brainy smiled. "You were unprepared. We'll have to work on that too."
He then turned to Phoebe. "But she's right; we have been trying to toughen Olga, get her in shape for when it happens. And it's been bearing fruit. Helga has noticed, right?"
Now Phoebe had been caught unprepared. "Well, yes, Helga has noticed changes in her sister."
"Like?"
"Um, Olga has been taking a stand lately, chiefly on behalf of Helga. Every time Helga has been referred to by her --- Olga's --- name, or as 'the girl', Olga has been quick to correct him. And that's not the full extent to which she comes to her defense. And she hasn't called her 'baby sister' since her birthday."
"Helga could write that off as Olga's acknowledgment that she's not a baby anymore now that she's thirteen."
"True. But then there's the letter."
"Letter?"
"Last month. Helga received a letter from Olga..."
Secondary flashback, Phoebe via Helga, or is it Helga via Phoebe?
The previous month. Olga is in her room, grooming in front of her vanity, when the door bursts open.
"All right Olga, what's the meaning of this?"
"Hello to you too, Helga."
"Cut to the chase; what are you up to?"
"You'll have to be more specific."
"This." Helga holds out the letter from her sister, who looks at it.
"I think it's self-explanatory."
"I don't buy it; you can't tell me you're going to stand by what you've written without some ulterior motive. What's your angle?"
"There's no angle, Helga." Olga shakes her head as she speaks, then grabs her head with one hand, closing her eyes.
"Something wrong?"
"I just had this feeling of deja vu. mmph." Olga shakes her head to clear it. She then puts down the toiletries or whatever that she was using at the time, and concentrates on an effort to convince her sister of good, or at least dissuade her from thinking bad.
"Helga, I've recently come to realize just how terrible a sister I have been to you. There's been so much bad stuff laid on you over the years, and I can't deny that I've done my part to add to it. I don't know what I can ever do to make it up to you, but I will try.
"Only thing is, you won't notice. I've noticed that every time I've tried to get closer to you in the past I've only succeeded in pushing you further away, so this time I won't try. I won't try to reach out to you, Helga; I'm afraid it'll just backfire again.
"But if you ever want to talk to me, about anything, I will make time for you no matter what I'm doing. You're my sister, Helga, and it's high time I start treating you like one.
"And don't worry; I won't tell anyone else --- like the others in your class for instance --- what you tell me. And I won't try to hug you either."
Olga then turns back to the vanity, indicating the conversation's end. Stupefied, Helga stands there for a couple of minutes, then slowly turns and walks away, closing the door behind her.
...end of flashback.
"And that's how it happened. Come to think of it, Helga has mentioned that even Olga's voice has changed. A little."
As Phoebe finished her story, Lila was taking it in, as was Brainy, in spades.
"Very interesting. So already we're doing some good, just not good enough, and not enough good. We'll have to step this up."
"Are we back to the hitting?" Phoebe asked.
"Preferably no. But that has to be an option; it's like in martial arts."
"The reason for knowing such would be to never have to use it?"
"Exactly. Phoebe, you only had to strike Helga that one time. She was fortunate that you were there to slap some sense into her. But Olga won't have that luxury; she'll be facing you-know-what all alone, with no one to stand by her. She must be prepared," he continued, as his gaze swung around toward Lila, "when she goes in there on that day, she must be tough enough."
There was more to be said, or asked. They all felt it. As if to forestall any further questioning, Brainy got back to business. He stood and, holding out one hand each to the others, helped them up.
"Now let's get back to work, ladies. And Lila, see if you can pack more punch into that punch this time. I thought being raised on a farm you'd turn out to be strong; didn't you stop that horse by yourself?"
Lila cocked an eyebrow. "Brainy, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were enjoying this."
"So who says you know better?"
It took a minute for the full extent of his revelation to sink in, but when it did, the shock was palpable. Eyebrows flew up and mouths gaped. Brainy looked a bit sheepish.
"I told you I was a masochist."
............................................................................ ...........
So the training continued. But did it do any good? Let's see how Olga is affected.
SLAP
"GASP!"
Before Olga could further react to that slap in the face Lila, who had inflicted it, had a hold of her upper arms.
"I'm ever so sorry that I had to do that, Olga. You were going into hysterics."
"gasp, sob, Lila..."
"Olga, this is not the time for hurt feelings. I feel ever so terrible that I did that, but we can't afford to feel bad right now. We have to work on this."
"sob, whine "
"Olga, listen to me! That's the first time I've had to slap you and I would like ever-so-much for it to be the last. You're oh-so-fortunate that I was here to do that, just like Helga was ever-so-fortunate the one time she got hysterical that Phoebe was there to slap her, snapping her out of it. But when you have to confront your parents you won't have that luxury. No one will be there to snap you out of it. You will have to face them on your own, and you will have to be strong. If you were to face them the way you are right now, you would go to pieces and then you wouldn't be any good to Helga."
Her sister's name finally brought Olga out of her self-pity funk. She still sniffled a bit. Lila handed her a package of tissues she had by now gotten in the habit of carrying with her, and in due time Olga was almost ready for action. Almost.
"What, what did you say? Helga went through that once?"
"Um, yes."
"How did you find out?"
"It happened in front of my apartment."
"Where you live now?"
"No, the tenement building, where we lived before Daddy got that job with Mitchell. I hadn't been here too long, and..."
"Oh."
They were in the production room of the beeper emporium, where the beeper commercials were put together.
Turning over in her mind the conversation she'd just had with Lila, Olga stood from the chair where she was seated. She slowly stepped toward the window looking out on the stage room.
She stood there as minute turned to minute, seeming to bask in the light that was allowed into the dark production room through the windows. Then, she reached into a front pocket of her vest and pulled out a certain picture.
It was Helga, the most recent picture of her. Which ordinarily would be no indication of how old it was, but it just so happened that one of the first things the family had done that summer was have a family portrait made at Boland Hills. Helga had almost been overlooked, which was no surprise.
She ran a finger around on the wallet sized, thoroughly covering the representation of the one she had until recently thought of as her baby sister, who was not a baby and had not been for well over a decade.
As Olga turned over in her mind first one thing, then another, she reminded herself that --- other than around Arnold --- she had never seen her sister smile, had no proof that Helga had ever smiled, ever. Not once.
Well, there was that one time she'd changed a grade, sending Olga to her bed for a while. After Helga had confessed, and Olga covered up her sister's misdeed, there had been a smile. Then Olga had suggested they spend the next day together. Helga had agreed.
Olga had thought that they had reached an understanding after that, that they had gotten closer.
What had gone wrong?
As these thoughts and countless others teemed through her mind, Olga kept fingering Helga's picture, as if in an effort to get close to her sister. Eyes closed, head bobbing to & fro, she fell prey to the sniffles & shakes.
Of course this did not go unnoticed by Lila, who had not taken her eyes off of Olga the entire time.
"Olga?"
"SNIFFLE! uh, pant pant , excuse me." She took a few more seconds to compose herself, then turned to face her 'little sis'.
"You're right, Lila. You're ever so right. If I'm going to be any good to Helga I'll have to be strong, stronger than I am now. You're strong; I remember how you stopped that horse. Will you help me?"
Lila smiled, her head shaking in incredulity. "Of course I'll help; I am ever so certain that that's what I've been trying to do."
Olga nodded, her features hardening into determination. "Then let's get to it."
............................................................................ ........
Another Sunday afternoon session, this one at the Elkins mansion on Elk Island.
"I've been thinking, you two..."
"Good, in your case thinking is not a dangerous thing."
"Seriously, Brainy. And Lila. I have something at home we could add to this tape, which could punch up things a bit more."
"What is it?" Lila asked.
"Remember the Parents Day competition?"
"I do." said Brainy. "I also remember who won, who was it again, some family with a Norwegian name?"
Phoebe blushed a bit. "All right, so we won. But we also got some choice footage of Big Bob Pataki in all his gory."
Lila was puzzled. "Don't you mean 'glory'?"
Phoebe grimaced. "Not when I'm talking about him."
By now Brainy was thinking a couple of steps ahead, again. "Phoebe, have you touched that Parents Day tape lately?"
"Not lately."
"Good, don't. That way in case Helga asks, you can honestly say it didn't come from you, you can even show her your tape still in its place with the dust still on it."
"Let me guess, you have a copy too."
"What can I say, my family likes to tape things in which we're involved."
............................................................................ ..................
"Lila?"
"I'm here, Brainy."
"All secure on your end?"
"Arnold and Helga should come along any second; we'll pick them up when they do."
"Olga?"
"Had to go to the office."
"chuckles You ever hang around the boarding house? That's what Arnold's grandpa calls it."
"more chuckles I have been there a couple of times. Remember when he had that parrot?"
"Focus, Lila."
"Right, focusing."
"We're hanging around Phoebe too much."
"That's possible. What about you, how are things there?"
"Following Phoebe as I speak, at a distance of course. And trying to convince myself that I'm not a peeping Tom. I'm feeling a bit guilty, this stuff should be private. At least I'm not recording it."
"You'll just have to convince yourself a bit more, won't you?"
"Why not; what's a little more angst."
"How are you, emotionally?"
"Not an issue."
"Not an issue, my eye."
"It doesn't matter; I'll have time to deal with it later. Is that walkie-talkie still attached to the camera?"
"Yes."
"Olga still doesn't suspect."
"You ever hear of tunnel vision?"
"Enough said."
"Lila!"
"Speaking of,"
"I need to go now."
"I know, I overheard. Give Olga my regards."
"Yeah, right."
............................................................................ ........
It's a typical sunny summer Friday afternoon. All the usual things are in the right place, proportion and style --- sun shining and all that.
On such a day, one Gerald Martin Johanssen just happened to be in the park. Well, technically it was a 'just happened' situation, but the reality is anything but.
For the past several weeks he too had fallen into a pattern. It had started as hanging out with his best friend Arnold, he of the mysterious last name. But the week after said best friend's birthday, that had changed.
That week, a certain someone had accidentally encountered them and sent Arnold off on some errand. It was a certain 'oh-so-special someone', as Lila would say. Well, you never know, she might turn out to be that oh- so-special someone, who knew, really?
All he knew was that in a couple of weeks he was going to the park on Fridays with the stated intent of meeting him, but the hope of meeting her. And she had yet to disappoint.
It was uncanny, really. If he didn't know better he might think she was taking the initiative in, well, it couldn't really be called dating but darned if he knew what it could be called. But why wouldn't she take the initiative? It's not like either of them wasn't liberated enough to not cling to the old gender roles; she was as able to do such a thing as he. And it's not like she wouldn't have picked up a thing or two in the assertiveness department from her best friend, ugh. That week she was hall monitor alone...
No, it was, um, he couldn't explain. But he couldn't shake this feeling that she wouldn't be apt to jump the gun in this manner. There was something about her that told him she wouldn't. She was, she was...
"Hello, Gerald."
She was here. As he turned to look at her, his mouth did the classic turning up at the corners, and his naturally dark complexion lightened a couple of shades. "Hey, Phoebe."
She smiled. "What has you so happy?"
"What, I can't be glad to see you?"
She blushed, a little. "Flattering, and something I wouldn't mind. But why do I get the feeling that this week there's a little something in addition to that?"
"All right, you charmed it out of me. My freedom has increased."
"It has?"
"Yeah! You could probably calculate how much to the exact decimal point. Jamie O. finally decided what college he's going to this fall."
"Oh? Which college?"
"Washington. He'll be there on a combined football and wrestling scholarship, which will pretty much take care of his tuition."
"That's wonderful for your brother, but how does that affect you right now?"
"It means he's practically out of the house. They'll have the signing at Hillwood High next week, and then he's practically gone."
"Not necessarily; Seattle is quite close, you know."
"It's far enough that he'll be living there instead of here. He's going to be busy from here on out, picking out a dorm room, meeting with the teachers and coaches, getting settled in; but the important thing is he's out of here! My brother has finally officially gone from being family to being a relative."
That perplexed Phoebe. "Pardon? I don't see the distinction."
"Well you see, when a family member finally moves out of the house, they become a relative. Still family, but the ties have been cut. The distinction is now relative. When you're family, they have to put up with you indefinitely; when you're a relative it's like Franklin said: like fish, you start to stink after three days. No longer will I have to share a house with him for extended periods of time."
"One day you will learn to appreciate your brother."
"Maybe I will, one day. But not today."
By now the two of them were walking.
"So where are we going this time?"
"How's Geno's sound?"
"Must you always think of food when we're together?"
"Hey, I feel like celebrating. Besides, you know we'll be hungry when we get there."
"True."
"It's like that story of the elephant graveyard."
"I don't believe I've heard that one."
"You're kidding! You mean to stand there and say you've never heard the story of the elephant graveyard?"
"Yes, I do mean to stand here and say exactly that. Would you please fill me in?"
"I don't know. This might come under the category of urban legend--"
"Somehow I've never thought of elephants as urban, and I resist the urge to make political hay out of that statement."
That last bit threw him somewhat. Seconds later, he recovered. "Um, whatever. It's still a story that requires a certain--"
"Of course, Sid's not here to set you up. Could I try?"
"You're serious."
"How hard can it be?"
"sigh All right, you want to hear it so bad... Phoebe, lead me in babe."
"Thank you. ahem The legend of the elephant graveyard has been passed down from generation to generation, and our own Gerald is the keeper of the tale. Take it, Gerald."
"Thank you Phoebe." Gerald smiled as he prepared for another oratorical episode.
Fortuitously, they weren't quite out of the park yet; they just happened to be passing the last park bench. Gerald stopped in front of it and, dramatically putting one foot on the seat of said bench, faced Phoebe and launched.
"For some two hundred years explorers have tried to solve the mysteries of the continent of Africa. Mungo Park. John Speke. Richard Burton. Livingstone AND Stanley. These people have sought different things --- from colonization to exploitation to fame & fortune to missionary work to just wanting to know what's there --- but there has been one objective on ALL of their lists: to locate the elephant graveyard. And all of their efforts in that case have been in vain.
"But does the graveyard even exist? No one knows, or those who do aren't saying. But still, the story is told, that when an elephant's time draws near, he or she knows. And when he or she knows the time is near, the elephant leaves the herd, and sets out on that one-way trip to elephant eternity.
"With no regard for anything, or anyone, but the trip and destination; the elephant walks, and walks, and then walks some more. Through jungles, across rivers, over or around mountains, maybe across a little patch of desert depending on where exactly we're talking.
"Finally, the African behemoth reaches its destination, its rendezvous with its own destiny: the fabled cemetery to which all of its kind must one day go. Once there, the elephant then keels over, and takes its rest from which it will not be awakened; its journey complete, as well as its life.
"Next stop: pachyderm paradise.
"The end."
Although the audience was small, person for person, Gerald had never received so enthusiastic a response to one of his tales.
Phoebe applauded until the soreness in her hands told her to stop, then spoke.
"Yet another masterful job of storytelling, Gerald."
"Thank you."
"But what does it have to do with the two of us getting hungry on our way to Geno's?"
"The trip accomplishes the purpose for the destination. In the elephant's case, it's the trip that kills it."
Phoebe, caught by surprise, was hard put to it not to choke on her laughter. "Oh, Gerald."
They walked on in silence for a while, then Gerald noticed the look on Phoebe's face, the look she had when she was thinking.
"What?"
"I was thinking about that story."
"What about it?"
"I have heard of such places, or the possibility thereof. Universal graveyards; they're better than gold mines to paleontologists. So many questions would be answered. And they actually exist. They're called lagerstatten."
"You're kidding."
"Not at all. One example is the LaBrea tar pits in Los Angeles."
"Now that you mention it... laughs "
"What?"
"Those things are supposed to trap those animals of limited intelligence. Considering it's in L.A., you'd think half of Hollywood would've gotten sucked under by now."
"That's why they have barricades between the people and the pits."
"Of course."
...and so it went. On the other side of the park, Arnold & Helga were also having yet another non-date. So they continued, the four of them, along with their three shadows.
...........................................................................
Journal entry, Saturday.
Another week has passed. Another week closer to happiness for H., and release for me. I think I'm getting over her.
Actually, and it scares me to admit this, I might be falling for someone else. It's L.
I can admit this on here --- more proof it seems that Dr. B. was right about journaling --- but I don't dare say anything about it elsewhere, and telling anyone else about it --- except perhaps Dr. B. --- is out of the question.
Say that I were to act on what I feel. And say that she were to respond --- and much as it shocks me, I find that such a concept is not out of the realm of possibility. What then? Let's face it: she is pretty and popular and perfect and all of that. Conversely, I am Brainy, one of the geeks, one of the twisted little freaks, as H. would say. What future could there possibly be for such a couple?
By now, I have a reputation, an image. 'So what?', I'd be the first to tell anyone who would listen; go against your image if you feel like it, and to you-know-what with what anyone else thinks. Does that apply in my case? What would happen if I were to try to act like someone who's not a geek, if I were to try to remake my image? Challenge everyone's image of me? Would that be allowed? Or would I be slapped down, shoved around, trampled underfoot by everyone? Maybe I'm just so comfortable in the background I'm afraid to step out of the shadows. I just don't know.
Anyway, I couldn't even think of such a thing now, not at this time. Not at this juncture, wouldn't be prudent, as someone said. Say I were to even kiss her right now; could either of us then concentrate on what we should be doing, on reconciling H. with her family, getting her together with A? Could I afford to take such a chance? Should I? Should I hazard H's future on such? And A's? And who knows who else?
We're playing with people's lives here, there's no getting around that. And I have to play to win. Sacrifices have to be made. If the sacrifices are mine, I can live with that; it was my idea. The needs of the many and all that.
Be right back; I need to get ready to turn in.
Brainy wheeled himself back a bit from the computer at which he'd been typing, after saving his journal entry thus far of course. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then clasped his hands in front of him with a stretch and an even bigger breath, a yawn.
He then rose from his seat, and did his usual bedtime routine, with a little difference. Sometimes he would put on a little music.
"Let's see, what am I in the mood for, hmm. Ah, country. And I know just the song."
He punched the appropriate buttons on his alarm clock radio, then headed for the phone.
"Hello, this is Nashville Ned, who do we have on this end?"
"Ned Jr."
"Oh, is that my trainee from Career Day?"
"That's me."
"Well, how you doing, little buddy?"
"Getting ready to turn in."
"Turn into what?"
"A zombie."
"Ah. Been there, more times than the days of your life."
"I can believe that."
"So what would you like to hear, kid?"
"'Unanswered Prayers'."
"You got it. What's your favorite country station?"
"K-DUDE."
"All right."
The line was silent for a bit, then Brainy heard Ned's voice again, this time his normal, more highly-pitched voice.
"Brainy, you still there?"
"Yes sir."
"You know how this works, that won't play for a while yet."
"I should be ready for bed by then."
"Ah, bed. Now that's something I haven't seen in a while."
"Funny."
"Is it? I'm not laughing. I'd like to ask you something, Brainy. Don't worry, we stopped taping right after you said the station's name."
"Thanks. I'm listening."
"You given any thought to this as a career? You were quite good on the job that day, really earned that 'A'."
"Thanks. I've thought about it, but I just don't have the voice for radio."
"Have you tried putting on a voice like I showed you, like I do?"
"Yeah. I don't know, maybe I need more practice. But you've taught me a lot, and I'll be using the stuff I learned from you, probably the rest of my life."
"Well, that's the idea of Career Day in the first place. It's not so we can find our successors, although in some cases that happens."
"I know."
"Um, do you know of anyone who might be interested in this line of work?"
"Hmm. Well, there's Marcy Kornblum."
"Marcy Kornblum?"
"Yeah. She's usually the narrator for school plays when there's a need of one. Good voice, comfortable in front of an audience."
"Hold on, how do you spell that?"
"K-O-R-N-B-L-U-M."
"Got it. I'll look into that. Thanks for the heads-up, Brainy."
"You're welcome."
"And call in anytime. My line is always open when you're on the other end."
"That's nice to know. Thank you very much."
"You're welcome... Oop, the song's ending, gotta get back on the job."
"And I need to get ready for--"
"Don't say it, I'm having enough trouble staying awake as it is."
"All right. Talk to you again, Ned."
"Any time, Brainy."
click
Change clothes. Brush your teeth. Get the bed ready. Turn off the light. And anything else your parents have ever told you to do when night falls. All of the above were soon accomplished; nothing remained but to finish the journal entry and shut down the computer; the radio would shut itself off in a few. So Brainy sat down to do the former.
I'm back.
Huh, to look at what I'm typing you'd think I was in a chat room.
Anyway, I was writing about making sacrifices; I'm not so sure it would be such a sacrifice.
I mean, what would I be sacrificing? A future I might not have? What would there be here for me? People know me by an alias, and that's because my real name is mud around here. It's about time I take a long hard look at my life, and make some decisions about my future.
But not tonight. Tomorrow's Sunday, and I need to be at my best for the group meeting. So good night.
Sincerely yours, E.M.E.V.
File Save
File Exit Works
Start Shut Down
What do you want the computer to do?
Shut down
Megahard Doors 98 Doors is shutting down
It is now safe to turn off your computer
click
As Brainy headed to the sack, he could hear his request on the radio.
She was the one I'd wanted for all times
And each night I'd spend prayin' that God would make her mine
And if he'd only grant me this wish I wished back then
I'd never ask for anything again
sigh , Well, at least it has a happy ending. Who knows, sometimes life imitates art, maybe we all can have a happy ending.
One can hope.
Good night.
There it is, please read and review, y'all. I keep trying to outdo myself, and hopefully I keep succeeding. As always, I'm Nftnat, on e-mail I'm Nftnataol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat . Cy'all around.
Again, the reviews overwhelm. I now officially have exactly 10 reviews per chapter (190 reviews divided by 19 chapters). I have 190 reasons to keep going with this and for those reasons I am so stoked; the reason this is going so slowly is that I'm trying to make everything perfect. Also, sometimes I work from scratch. And this chapter was supposed to go by quickly; well, maybe it is and I'm just not seeing it.
Chinyere, or chineymange, thanks beaucoups. No, you've never reviewed any of my stuff before, unless it was under another name; but you certainly have made up for lost time. You're right; I am quite the fan of the show, and when I do something I try to do it right, which means immersing myself in my sources. I have seen potential in the series for exploring the potential in the characters, particularly Brainy, obviously. I find it hard to believe he could keep sneaking up behind Helga unless he had something on the ball, so I developed the idea of the smart Brainy. And I don't think you're long-winded at all, but I would say that.
Thank you, cc17. Here's more.
Thanks, Ami. But I'm not nearly finished; there is ever so much more ground to cover. I'm not surprised that you cried at times; I know I did.
zali, thank you for both of your reviews. I'm aiming for more cuteness with those two; maybe you'd say there's some of that here, but not nearly as much as in the future. You're from the Philippines, got it. As to your question, I'm not in college, not since 1998. (Texas A&M-Texarkana, and no, I'm not an Aggie) Also, I'm not a girl.
Thanks, Paradox. You're right, that is easier. Olga is on the job, and before I'm done I will make people like her. And Miriam will have her moments too; it's going to be intense.
Thank you, selement. And calm yourself; I've no intention of giving up on this. I want to see where this leads as much as anyone, if not more.
Thanks, J.T. You're right, it is predictable, but she has to have someone, doesn't she? Doesn't she? Yes, I am the history buff. I get all this stuff from reading. All I want to know is everything. I'll keep supplying you with stuff to read and review, as fast as I'm able to.
And thank you, Miss Matched. Hoo boy, I'm responsible for these Brainy fan-girls, what am I going to do? I have never heard that song, or have I? I don't think I have. As to your review of a previous chapter, it is Job chapter 3.
Thanks, Houkanno Yuuhou. Actually, I hadn't known of that debate until you called my attention to it, but I'm very interested in it and it gives all of us something to think about. There's quite a bit of stuff you've said to which I must devote the proverbial great deal of thought. I don't know quite how to respond, really. Would you believe I have a brother named Paul? And my grandmother had your name. You should know that the finale is far, far away; but it will be well worth it imo. I'm surprised you've not seen those episodes; oh well, Halloween and Thanksgiving aren't that far away. And I'd be the last one to complain about someone's review becoming a short story as mine usually do.
Thank you, Helga243. Here's more.
Thanks, Nory, or SummerRose now. Yeah, you caught me. Mmm, could be.
Thank you, brianaluvsfootballhead. I've updated already, but keep in mind that quality takes time, and I hope this is quality. As to the other chapters, yeah, that was intense. I know, I don't like all the 'he said she said' stuff, so sometimes I go too far the other way. And yes, I did dump on Miss Felter a bit, but I needed to fill out the quartet. It's reasonable to think that Helga might have found out about Arnold's crush on her and, well, you can imagine. Speaking of imagining, mine can be quite disturbing at times, as I said at the time.
Thanks, Hufflepuffer. I'm keeping on writing. And I did cry, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
Thank you, Sleather. I try to address some of the points you raise here. And I'm trying to include some A/H stuff too; the whole point is to get them together, right? And I'm working on getting Brainy to notice Lila. I'm so happy that you like her; it means that what I'm doing is working.
This past Sunday I received two e-mails. One of them followed it with an IM compliment. You know who you are. Unfortunately, I've forgotten your name and I didn't bother to save either one; but I did appreciate both of them. Thanks.
And thank you to the other one who e-mailed me that Sunday. Chachi, Chachi, Chachi... (all right, so I'm a Happy Days fan) I am hurrying on this.
Thanks as well to Mandy, or PineViewGramma. Thanks for waiting.
And SoSRomansSoS, you just made it in under the wire. Thank you too. Your IM was appreciated; it came in just after I finished these acknowledgments, people.
Hey Arnold! and all Hey Arnold! concepts are created, owned, and / or copyrighted by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, a unit of Viacom.
Pictures At An Exhibition was written by Modest Mussorgsky and was included by Emerson Lake & Palmer on the live Rhino album Pictures at an Exhibition.
Unanswered Prayers was written by Pat Alger, Larry B. Bastian, and Garth Brooks; and is copyright 1989 Bait and Beer Music (Adm. by PolyGram International Publishing, Inc.) (ASCAP) / Forerunner Music, Inc. (ASCAP) / Major Bob Music Co. Inc. (ASCAP) / Mid-Summer Music, Inc. (ASCAP). All rights reserved. It was included on the album (yes, I still call them albums, I'm that old) No Fences by Garth Brooks copyright 1990 Caged Panther Music and Garthart under exclusive license to Capitol Records, and was re-released as part of the boxed set Garth Brooks The Limited Series, Capitol Records, 1998.
For the next several weeks, the trio's activities fell into a definite pattern.
On Friday, somehow, another note would find its way to Arnold. And Brainy could be creative about getting him the message.
............................................................................
A typical Friday night. Another ball game in the books, Arnold and his best friend are engaging in their usual Friday night activity: checkers before turning in.
WHAP!
"Did you just hear something?"
"Nope."
WHAP!"
"Come on, you can't tell me you didn't hear that."
Arnold rises from the fold-out couch where the checkerboard sets and walks toward the window where he keeps his bonsai. Seconds later, he's seconded by his best friend.
"What did it sound like, Arnold?"
"You heard it."
"Like someone was throwing rocks at the window?"
"I'd say it was more like dropping rocks."
"How can you tell the difference between the sound of a rock being thrown and a rock being dropped?"
"You mean you can't?"
"Sound never was a field I studied very much. My man Fuzzy Slippers says--"
WHAP!
"There! You heard it that time, right?"
"I heard it last time, probably the first time too."
"So why'd you pretend not to?"
"Here we are." Gerald changed the subject as they reached the window.
Arnold gazed through the glass into the darkness outside, trying to see something, anything.
"Whoever it is, is out there, Gerald."
"So what are you going to do about it?"
Arnold said nothing; he just pondered the situation for a few minutes. Then, wordlessly, his arms went out to the window and pulled.
As soon as the window opened wide enough, the twosome got a shock as something whizzed past them.
"What was that?!?"
"Whatever it was, it was quiet. Didn't do any damage either."
"So we can rule out a sniper? Other than Helga Pataki?"
Arnold bit his tongue to stop his reply; he couldn't explain it, but the time he was spending with Helga was working on him. The term one might use is that she was growing on him, not that she hadn't been before that summer. Instead of the heated response that was his first instinct, he reverted to one of his trademarks. "Whatever you say, Gerald; whatever you say."
By now he was scanning his room for anything out of the ordinary. "Wait, that must be it."
He pointed toward the only thing in the room that hadn't been there before: a paper airplane on the bed.
"You think?"
Arnold was now making a beeline for the bed, calling behind him, "Gerald, would you please close the window?"
"Um, sure." As he closed it, Gerald imitated his friend's action of looking through the window. His gaze then shifted to the skylights.
"Don't bother, Gerald. Whoever it is, never leaves a trace."
"Weird."
Arnold didn't answer.
"Arnold?"
"'Chez Paris, and a sophisticated someone.'"
"That's what it says?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Still think they're about Helga Pataki?"
"Yes."
"Why? Why would someone want you to keep thinking about her?"
"I don't know."
"Man, it's freaky! Every Friday you get another one of these, no warning, no nothing, not a single clue to go on, so we're no closer to figuring it out than we were on the last day of school!"
"I know."
"And it's not like we haven't tried. We've examined the paper, the ink, the paste, even dusted for prints, nothing! This person's very cloak and dagger, whoever is doing this to you."
"I know that too."
"So who's doing this to you, and what are you supposed to know?"
"That I don't know."
By now Arnold was thumbing through a sheaf of "old" correspondence.
Q-U-A-L-X? Who's kidding whom?
Was there an apology after your magic act?
'Bio-Square' wasn't a failure, was it?
How was the float paid for?
The Wittenberg wedding. Was someone practicing their vows?
That Thanksgiving wasn't such a total disaster, was it?
What happened during the flood?
Romeo & Juliet
Now Gerald was doing one of the stereotypical rude things: reading over someone's shoulder. Suddenly, he snatched one of the sheets.
"Hey!"
"This one I especially don't understand. No message; just a date."
..............................................................
Back a few weeks. The trio is in one of their meetings. This time Brainy is letting Phoebe compose the message.
"It is the date on which Helga thought she was about to expire from monkeynucleosis."
An involuntary giggle escaped from Lila, drawing her accomplices' attention.
"I'm sorry, it's just that that word sounds ever so silly."
"Silly or not, it was considered important enough at one time to be mentioned in that book of debunked diseases."
"It actually said it was debunked, in the book?"
"On the cover, and several times in that particular article."
This time, a sigh escaped. And this time, the loss was Brainy's.
"So she sees clear and abundant proof that the disease is nonexistent, that it has been debunked and disproved, she says so herself a number of times, and still she believes in it. Only Helga."
"You'd be surprised how we don't see what's right in front of us." Lila mused, her gaze skirting the edges of her male associate.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Momentarily stymied on that end, Brainy turned his attention elsewhere. "So, Phoebe, what happened with that for Arnold to notice her?"
"I'm not sure."
"You're not sure? Phoebe, you know how critical every phase of this plan is; I assume you have a bit more to go on than 'I'm not sure'."
"And you know what they say about people who assume."
"Point to Heyerdahl; welcome to the game, Phoebe."
"Lila!"
"Brainy! or should I say Edward?"
"SHH! Only in private, PLEASE!"
"We are in private."
Now Phoebe found herself suppressing laughter as she watched her associates go each at the other. She found herself admiring what a cute couple they did make. But she knew it had to end. "Ahem."
Heads turned. "Yes?"
"Would you like to hear what I have on which to base my suspicions, as you were asking me a minute ago?"
"Yes."
"All right. You see, Helga was acting eccentric, even for her. She called a bunch of us up there and gave away all of her stuff; gave me her books. And if my experience was any indication, she was accompanying the bestowals with lines of treacle so cheesy--"
"Never mind that treacle and cheese aren't anything alike."
"You're interrupting."
"Sorry."
"As I was about to say, hindsight being 20/20 I now have a pretty good idea of what would've happened with regard to Arnold, but at the time I was interested in that book of phony diseases. When I came to the monkeynucleosis entry I put two and two together and headed back for her room. When I burst in Arnold was there, but I wasn't thinking of anything except reassuring Helga. After I left, though, I hung back a bit. Apparently she was about to tell him something when she thought she was going to expire; care to guess what that something was?"
............................................................
As the sessions went on, other sessions went on too, involving the other groups:
"BWA-HAHAHAHAHAH!!"
"This had better work, Curly, or I'm going to pound you!"
"Willikers, Harold, I reckon it's gonna work."
"FREE THE ANIMALS!!!"
"Ah, stop it! Curlyyyyyyyy..."
"Try to keep up, you two."
"Coming Rhonda."
"Nadine, see what's the holdup with Sid."
.................................
"Sid?"
"Hmm?"
"What's the holdup?"
"Nothing."
"If you stare at that recruitment poster any harder..."
"Just wondering how I'd look in a Navy uniform."
"Handsome. Now come on, before Rhonda blows it."
"As if that were anything new."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"I really don't know about this, Sheena."
"It's all right, Eugene. Don't worry; I'll be, um, we'll be there for you."
"Right. What she said."
............................................................................ ......
And things were progressing with the group of Arnold and Helga and Gerald as well.
"I gotta hit the office, you two."
"Heh, you're hangin' around here too much, Hair Boy; you're starting to talk like Phil."
"You know, she's right?"
"Wait, why do you get to call him Phil; he puts up a fuss whenever I do."
"'Cause Phil likes me."
"Aw, man!"
"Oh, Gerald, remember--"
"I know, if I run into any of the boarders, they can smell fear. You're talking to the epitome of cool, Arnold."
slam
"Whadda ya wanna bet he's gone for at least a half hour."
"It is a ways to the office."
"I'm countin' on him gettin' cornered."
"Helga."
"I'm behaving."
pause
"Arnold?"
A blond head turned. "Yes?"
"Why have you been doing this, spending all this time with me?"
"After your birthday, you can ask that?"
Helga frowned. "It had better not be pity; I hate pity!"
"It's not pity, Helga."
"I don't think I could handle being pitied, especially by you."
"Helga, it's not pity, really."
"Really?"
"Really. Why wouldn't I want to hang with you? We're friends, aren't we?"
"Well, I guess..."
"So it shouldn't be any surprise that I value the time we have together, Helga. I really like talking with you, finding out more about you. You've..."
"What?"
"I've always thought there was something about you, something you wouldn't let anyone see. I've wanted to get to know that person, and I'm thankful that you're letting me get that chance."
Helga had to turn away. "Arnold, I..."
They were saved by the bell, so to speak, as Gerald returned.
"His coolness has returned."
"So soon?"
"What, did Phil forget to change the roll or something?"
"Very funny, Helga. No, I just got done fast. It's a guy thing."
Grumbling, Helga excused herself for her turn.
"You wanna bet she takes at least half an hour?"
"Gerald!"
"Okkay, so you don't. So, anything happen?"
............................................................................ .
Meanwhile, the usual things were going on with the Triumphant Trio. At their meetings, they'd discuss things about the project, and things not necessarily related to same, like what kind of music to listen to while planning. One day...
"All right, ladies." Brainy started as he walked to a blackboard brought in to his planning room for the occasion. "Let's look at this mathematically."
As he talked he diagrammed his monologue on the blackboard like it was some higher math problem, with fractals and cosecants and such.
"Lila, you prefer country. Phoebe, you prefer J-Pop. And I, well, my tastes are just weird. Now, the one musical style equidistant from all three of them is, art rock."
"Art rock?" Lila asked.
"Yes. It has everything. It's esoteric, populist, bombastic, pretentious, it's based on classical which according to the experts is the preferred music for learning by..."
"Wait." Phoebe had to ask. "You figured this out through math?"
"Music is very mathematical." Lila put in.
Phoebe had no answer.
So, art rock it was. After a bit of experimenting the three settled on Emerson Lake & Palmer. And yes, part of the reason was that the two threesomes had the same initials, ELP. In no time at all they'd even decided on a signal for emergency meetings: whistling the first six notes of "Pictures at an Exhibition".
............................................................................
Turning from music to sports, have I mentioned the Friday ball games? It seems the blond couple had developed a rapport there.
It's a typical Friday evening. This time it's Wolfgang's Wolves vs. Helga's Angels.
It's the top of the inning. Full count on Edmund, at the plate for the Wolves with Wolfgang on second. One out.
Harold on the mound for the Angels, about to pitch to Edmund. Wolfgang takes the opportunity to try to steal third. Arnold at shortstop notices immediately.
"Harold!"
Harold turns on a quarter --- inflation, as well as his bulk --- and throws to Arnold. Got him! Wolfgang is now trapped in a rundown. You would have to be Jackie Robinson to get out of this situation, and Wolfgang is no Jackie Robinson.
"Out!"
Wolfgang, on the ground, short of second, looks up at a triumphant Arnold. The blond hero looks down on him, half-smiling, eyes half-lidded, eyebrows waggling, the face that says 'I've beaten you and we both know it.'
At the plate, Edmund looks on in wonder.
"Huh. Who would've thought a football-head would have such a head for baseball?"
Behind the catchers mask, Helga smiles. Then she decides to rattle her opponent.
"He's good at football too. Or have you forgotten the Mudbowl?"
"What?" Edmund turns his head, just in time for Harold's pitch.
"Strike three! You're out." the Jolly Olly man calls, doing his usual sadistic job at umpire.
Which is the final out for the Wolves. As the teams change out for the Angels' batting order, no one notices a wink passing between Arnold and Helga.
"Nice play, football-head."
"Thanks."
............................................................................ .......
And now, for another look in on the trio.
POW!
WHAM!
Brainy hadn't hit the floor before the other two ran to him, Lila ridden with guilt.
"Are you all right, Brainy?"
He just smiled. "I've felt worse, much worse."
"I'm ever so sorry about that--"
Brainy held up his hand to silence her. "No need to apologize; I did practically order you to hit me. And it was a breeze compared to what I've felt from Ol' Betsy."
"Still--"
"Lila, really, it's all right." Brainy paused long enough to get to his feet, then continued. "In fact it's more than all right; it's necessary. As I've explained, Olga has to be toughened up to prepare her for the confrontation. And you have to be toughened up so you'll be able to toughen her up." His eyes narrowed at her. "And if you're going to get Olga ready to face her father, you'll have to do better than that."
Lila's frustration was showing. "But I still don't see how it would accomplish anything for me to strike her."
"Wait," Phoebe interrupted, "am I to understand Olga is to be trained to use physical force on her father when the time comes?"
"No no, that's not what I mean at all." Brainy started.
He then went silent; the girls could see the gears turning in his mind. Finally...
"I think we'll need to sit down for this." He then walked toward a bare place in the floor of the Heyerdahl fencing room.
Turning, he addressed his associates. "Ladies?"
Without a word, Lila and Phoebe joined Brainy. He then sat on the floor, cross-legged. They did likewise; by now they were used to his leadership and went along without question, most of the time.
Wordlessly, they watched, and waited for him to begin. His eyes were closed, giving the impression of prayer, or meditation; deep breaths and the position of his hands, at rest on his knees, indicated the latter, like some kind of a guru or yogi. After several deep cleansing breaths, the eyes opened, and he began.
"Let me try, if I can, to explain the sisters Pataki.
"Helga and Olga, you see, are flip sides of the same coin. They're from the same gene pool, only one used sun-block and the other didn't." Immediately, his eyes closed as the fingers of one hand flew up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Man, that analogy sucked."
The girls said nothing as Brainy strove to re-collect his thoughts.
"All right, look at things this way. All of her young life, Helga has been exposed to, well, you know to what she's been exposed."
Phoebe nodded in agreement.
"And Olga had been exposed to the same stuff. The difference has been in how they have dealt with it.
"Helga has been under enormous pressure. She has dealt with it by choosing to defy it. And over the years she has built strong, tough walls to keep the pressures out. Problem is they keep other things out too, like emotions. But that's to be expected given how emotionally controlled Patakis are expected to be.
"Olga, on the other hand, has chosen the other path, the path called milksop. She has completely caved in to whatever was placed on her, done everything expected and more to try to win the love and regard of those she loves and regards the most. And it's worked. Her parents dote on her, she's even exempted from the emotional control Patakis are supposed to have. The cost, as we have seen, is her personality, her individuality."
"Interesting, and true," Phoebe mused, "but what does it have to do with hitting?"
Brainy looked her in the eyes. "How many times have you seen Helga cry?"
She had to think about that one, long and hard. "Gee I, I don't know. I suppose I could count the number of times on one hand."
"Any time in particular?" Brainy led, his eyes narrowing as he focused on her.
Phoebe devoted the proverbial great deal of thought to the question, then frowned as the full implication of Brainy's leading finally hit home. "You mean that time we were mean to Lila."
"Yes."
Phoebe's features hardened; she really didn't want to go there. "I really don't want to do this."
"I realize that, but this is necessary, a means to an end."
Of course, Lila was very interested in this. "Excuse me? I think I have some idea of what you two are talking about, but it would be oh so nice if you would share it with me, seeing that it seems to concern me, and that I'm here listening to it anyway."
Phoebe was fixed in Brainy's sights. "Why don't you tell her, Phoebe? You were there."
It took a great deal of prying, with some details having to be filled in by replaying the tape of Helga from her birthday, but eventually the whole story was told: the new girl, the jealousy, the pranks, the desolation, and finally, the contrition. Of course Lila already knew what had happened back then, but not quite all of Helga and the others' p.o.v. And the memories recalled brought with them the feelings all of the people involved had experienced at the time.
By the time it was over, Phoebe and Lila were crying in each other's arms. If nothing else, this project would at least have the effect of bringing the two of them together.
Brainy looked on, silently weeping himself at the sad recollections. He dabbed his eyes while waiting for a break in the waterlogged reverie, passing around yet another package of tissues. When the noise died down, he finally addressed the assembly.
"You see, that was the only time that Helga really lost control of herself. The only time Phoebe here had to strike her, to snap her out of it, to bring her to her senses.
"Helga doesn't break down often because she's built emotional walls so massive, so solid, so impregnable that there's only a break once in a blue moon. Or at least one she can't handle; normally she's able to slap herself, mostly when she's around Arnold. But Olga hasn't built those walls; she hasn't had to. So far she's been able to get by on her talents and her accomplishments --- intellectual, social, charitable, et cetera.
"But up to recently she's never dealt with confrontation. Were she to try to face Big Bob, not even two months ago, she would've crumbled like a soggy fish stick.
"That situation has changed recently, though. We've been working on her, right, Lila?"
Lila was caught by surprise at the sudden directing of a question to her. "Um, yes, yes we have."
Brainy smiled. "You were unprepared. We'll have to work on that too."
He then turned to Phoebe. "But she's right; we have been trying to toughen Olga, get her in shape for when it happens. And it's been bearing fruit. Helga has noticed, right?"
Now Phoebe had been caught unprepared. "Well, yes, Helga has noticed changes in her sister."
"Like?"
"Um, Olga has been taking a stand lately, chiefly on behalf of Helga. Every time Helga has been referred to by her --- Olga's --- name, or as 'the girl', Olga has been quick to correct him. And that's not the full extent to which she comes to her defense. And she hasn't called her 'baby sister' since her birthday."
"Helga could write that off as Olga's acknowledgment that she's not a baby anymore now that she's thirteen."
"True. But then there's the letter."
"Letter?"
"Last month. Helga received a letter from Olga..."
Secondary flashback, Phoebe via Helga, or is it Helga via Phoebe?
The previous month. Olga is in her room, grooming in front of her vanity, when the door bursts open.
"All right Olga, what's the meaning of this?"
"Hello to you too, Helga."
"Cut to the chase; what are you up to?"
"You'll have to be more specific."
"This." Helga holds out the letter from her sister, who looks at it.
"I think it's self-explanatory."
"I don't buy it; you can't tell me you're going to stand by what you've written without some ulterior motive. What's your angle?"
"There's no angle, Helga." Olga shakes her head as she speaks, then grabs her head with one hand, closing her eyes.
"Something wrong?"
"I just had this feeling of deja vu. mmph." Olga shakes her head to clear it. She then puts down the toiletries or whatever that she was using at the time, and concentrates on an effort to convince her sister of good, or at least dissuade her from thinking bad.
"Helga, I've recently come to realize just how terrible a sister I have been to you. There's been so much bad stuff laid on you over the years, and I can't deny that I've done my part to add to it. I don't know what I can ever do to make it up to you, but I will try.
"Only thing is, you won't notice. I've noticed that every time I've tried to get closer to you in the past I've only succeeded in pushing you further away, so this time I won't try. I won't try to reach out to you, Helga; I'm afraid it'll just backfire again.
"But if you ever want to talk to me, about anything, I will make time for you no matter what I'm doing. You're my sister, Helga, and it's high time I start treating you like one.
"And don't worry; I won't tell anyone else --- like the others in your class for instance --- what you tell me. And I won't try to hug you either."
Olga then turns back to the vanity, indicating the conversation's end. Stupefied, Helga stands there for a couple of minutes, then slowly turns and walks away, closing the door behind her.
...end of flashback.
"And that's how it happened. Come to think of it, Helga has mentioned that even Olga's voice has changed. A little."
As Phoebe finished her story, Lila was taking it in, as was Brainy, in spades.
"Very interesting. So already we're doing some good, just not good enough, and not enough good. We'll have to step this up."
"Are we back to the hitting?" Phoebe asked.
"Preferably no. But that has to be an option; it's like in martial arts."
"The reason for knowing such would be to never have to use it?"
"Exactly. Phoebe, you only had to strike Helga that one time. She was fortunate that you were there to slap some sense into her. But Olga won't have that luxury; she'll be facing you-know-what all alone, with no one to stand by her. She must be prepared," he continued, as his gaze swung around toward Lila, "when she goes in there on that day, she must be tough enough."
There was more to be said, or asked. They all felt it. As if to forestall any further questioning, Brainy got back to business. He stood and, holding out one hand each to the others, helped them up.
"Now let's get back to work, ladies. And Lila, see if you can pack more punch into that punch this time. I thought being raised on a farm you'd turn out to be strong; didn't you stop that horse by yourself?"
Lila cocked an eyebrow. "Brainy, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were enjoying this."
"So who says you know better?"
It took a minute for the full extent of his revelation to sink in, but when it did, the shock was palpable. Eyebrows flew up and mouths gaped. Brainy looked a bit sheepish.
"I told you I was a masochist."
............................................................................ ...........
So the training continued. But did it do any good? Let's see how Olga is affected.
SLAP
"GASP!"
Before Olga could further react to that slap in the face Lila, who had inflicted it, had a hold of her upper arms.
"I'm ever so sorry that I had to do that, Olga. You were going into hysterics."
"gasp, sob, Lila..."
"Olga, this is not the time for hurt feelings. I feel ever so terrible that I did that, but we can't afford to feel bad right now. We have to work on this."
"sob, whine "
"Olga, listen to me! That's the first time I've had to slap you and I would like ever-so-much for it to be the last. You're oh-so-fortunate that I was here to do that, just like Helga was ever-so-fortunate the one time she got hysterical that Phoebe was there to slap her, snapping her out of it. But when you have to confront your parents you won't have that luxury. No one will be there to snap you out of it. You will have to face them on your own, and you will have to be strong. If you were to face them the way you are right now, you would go to pieces and then you wouldn't be any good to Helga."
Her sister's name finally brought Olga out of her self-pity funk. She still sniffled a bit. Lila handed her a package of tissues she had by now gotten in the habit of carrying with her, and in due time Olga was almost ready for action. Almost.
"What, what did you say? Helga went through that once?"
"Um, yes."
"How did you find out?"
"It happened in front of my apartment."
"Where you live now?"
"No, the tenement building, where we lived before Daddy got that job with Mitchell. I hadn't been here too long, and..."
"Oh."
They were in the production room of the beeper emporium, where the beeper commercials were put together.
Turning over in her mind the conversation she'd just had with Lila, Olga stood from the chair where she was seated. She slowly stepped toward the window looking out on the stage room.
She stood there as minute turned to minute, seeming to bask in the light that was allowed into the dark production room through the windows. Then, she reached into a front pocket of her vest and pulled out a certain picture.
It was Helga, the most recent picture of her. Which ordinarily would be no indication of how old it was, but it just so happened that one of the first things the family had done that summer was have a family portrait made at Boland Hills. Helga had almost been overlooked, which was no surprise.
She ran a finger around on the wallet sized, thoroughly covering the representation of the one she had until recently thought of as her baby sister, who was not a baby and had not been for well over a decade.
As Olga turned over in her mind first one thing, then another, she reminded herself that --- other than around Arnold --- she had never seen her sister smile, had no proof that Helga had ever smiled, ever. Not once.
Well, there was that one time she'd changed a grade, sending Olga to her bed for a while. After Helga had confessed, and Olga covered up her sister's misdeed, there had been a smile. Then Olga had suggested they spend the next day together. Helga had agreed.
Olga had thought that they had reached an understanding after that, that they had gotten closer.
What had gone wrong?
As these thoughts and countless others teemed through her mind, Olga kept fingering Helga's picture, as if in an effort to get close to her sister. Eyes closed, head bobbing to & fro, she fell prey to the sniffles & shakes.
Of course this did not go unnoticed by Lila, who had not taken her eyes off of Olga the entire time.
"Olga?"
"SNIFFLE! uh, pant pant , excuse me." She took a few more seconds to compose herself, then turned to face her 'little sis'.
"You're right, Lila. You're ever so right. If I'm going to be any good to Helga I'll have to be strong, stronger than I am now. You're strong; I remember how you stopped that horse. Will you help me?"
Lila smiled, her head shaking in incredulity. "Of course I'll help; I am ever so certain that that's what I've been trying to do."
Olga nodded, her features hardening into determination. "Then let's get to it."
............................................................................ ........
Another Sunday afternoon session, this one at the Elkins mansion on Elk Island.
"I've been thinking, you two..."
"Good, in your case thinking is not a dangerous thing."
"Seriously, Brainy. And Lila. I have something at home we could add to this tape, which could punch up things a bit more."
"What is it?" Lila asked.
"Remember the Parents Day competition?"
"I do." said Brainy. "I also remember who won, who was it again, some family with a Norwegian name?"
Phoebe blushed a bit. "All right, so we won. But we also got some choice footage of Big Bob Pataki in all his gory."
Lila was puzzled. "Don't you mean 'glory'?"
Phoebe grimaced. "Not when I'm talking about him."
By now Brainy was thinking a couple of steps ahead, again. "Phoebe, have you touched that Parents Day tape lately?"
"Not lately."
"Good, don't. That way in case Helga asks, you can honestly say it didn't come from you, you can even show her your tape still in its place with the dust still on it."
"Let me guess, you have a copy too."
"What can I say, my family likes to tape things in which we're involved."
............................................................................ ..................
"Lila?"
"I'm here, Brainy."
"All secure on your end?"
"Arnold and Helga should come along any second; we'll pick them up when they do."
"Olga?"
"Had to go to the office."
"chuckles You ever hang around the boarding house? That's what Arnold's grandpa calls it."
"more chuckles I have been there a couple of times. Remember when he had that parrot?"
"Focus, Lila."
"Right, focusing."
"We're hanging around Phoebe too much."
"That's possible. What about you, how are things there?"
"Following Phoebe as I speak, at a distance of course. And trying to convince myself that I'm not a peeping Tom. I'm feeling a bit guilty, this stuff should be private. At least I'm not recording it."
"You'll just have to convince yourself a bit more, won't you?"
"Why not; what's a little more angst."
"How are you, emotionally?"
"Not an issue."
"Not an issue, my eye."
"It doesn't matter; I'll have time to deal with it later. Is that walkie-talkie still attached to the camera?"
"Yes."
"Olga still doesn't suspect."
"You ever hear of tunnel vision?"
"Enough said."
"Lila!"
"Speaking of,"
"I need to go now."
"I know, I overheard. Give Olga my regards."
"Yeah, right."
............................................................................ ........
It's a typical sunny summer Friday afternoon. All the usual things are in the right place, proportion and style --- sun shining and all that.
On such a day, one Gerald Martin Johanssen just happened to be in the park. Well, technically it was a 'just happened' situation, but the reality is anything but.
For the past several weeks he too had fallen into a pattern. It had started as hanging out with his best friend Arnold, he of the mysterious last name. But the week after said best friend's birthday, that had changed.
That week, a certain someone had accidentally encountered them and sent Arnold off on some errand. It was a certain 'oh-so-special someone', as Lila would say. Well, you never know, she might turn out to be that oh- so-special someone, who knew, really?
All he knew was that in a couple of weeks he was going to the park on Fridays with the stated intent of meeting him, but the hope of meeting her. And she had yet to disappoint.
It was uncanny, really. If he didn't know better he might think she was taking the initiative in, well, it couldn't really be called dating but darned if he knew what it could be called. But why wouldn't she take the initiative? It's not like either of them wasn't liberated enough to not cling to the old gender roles; she was as able to do such a thing as he. And it's not like she wouldn't have picked up a thing or two in the assertiveness department from her best friend, ugh. That week she was hall monitor alone...
No, it was, um, he couldn't explain. But he couldn't shake this feeling that she wouldn't be apt to jump the gun in this manner. There was something about her that told him she wouldn't. She was, she was...
"Hello, Gerald."
She was here. As he turned to look at her, his mouth did the classic turning up at the corners, and his naturally dark complexion lightened a couple of shades. "Hey, Phoebe."
She smiled. "What has you so happy?"
"What, I can't be glad to see you?"
She blushed, a little. "Flattering, and something I wouldn't mind. But why do I get the feeling that this week there's a little something in addition to that?"
"All right, you charmed it out of me. My freedom has increased."
"It has?"
"Yeah! You could probably calculate how much to the exact decimal point. Jamie O. finally decided what college he's going to this fall."
"Oh? Which college?"
"Washington. He'll be there on a combined football and wrestling scholarship, which will pretty much take care of his tuition."
"That's wonderful for your brother, but how does that affect you right now?"
"It means he's practically out of the house. They'll have the signing at Hillwood High next week, and then he's practically gone."
"Not necessarily; Seattle is quite close, you know."
"It's far enough that he'll be living there instead of here. He's going to be busy from here on out, picking out a dorm room, meeting with the teachers and coaches, getting settled in; but the important thing is he's out of here! My brother has finally officially gone from being family to being a relative."
That perplexed Phoebe. "Pardon? I don't see the distinction."
"Well you see, when a family member finally moves out of the house, they become a relative. Still family, but the ties have been cut. The distinction is now relative. When you're family, they have to put up with you indefinitely; when you're a relative it's like Franklin said: like fish, you start to stink after three days. No longer will I have to share a house with him for extended periods of time."
"One day you will learn to appreciate your brother."
"Maybe I will, one day. But not today."
By now the two of them were walking.
"So where are we going this time?"
"How's Geno's sound?"
"Must you always think of food when we're together?"
"Hey, I feel like celebrating. Besides, you know we'll be hungry when we get there."
"True."
"It's like that story of the elephant graveyard."
"I don't believe I've heard that one."
"You're kidding! You mean to stand there and say you've never heard the story of the elephant graveyard?"
"Yes, I do mean to stand here and say exactly that. Would you please fill me in?"
"I don't know. This might come under the category of urban legend--"
"Somehow I've never thought of elephants as urban, and I resist the urge to make political hay out of that statement."
That last bit threw him somewhat. Seconds later, he recovered. "Um, whatever. It's still a story that requires a certain--"
"Of course, Sid's not here to set you up. Could I try?"
"You're serious."
"How hard can it be?"
"sigh All right, you want to hear it so bad... Phoebe, lead me in babe."
"Thank you. ahem The legend of the elephant graveyard has been passed down from generation to generation, and our own Gerald is the keeper of the tale. Take it, Gerald."
"Thank you Phoebe." Gerald smiled as he prepared for another oratorical episode.
Fortuitously, they weren't quite out of the park yet; they just happened to be passing the last park bench. Gerald stopped in front of it and, dramatically putting one foot on the seat of said bench, faced Phoebe and launched.
"For some two hundred years explorers have tried to solve the mysteries of the continent of Africa. Mungo Park. John Speke. Richard Burton. Livingstone AND Stanley. These people have sought different things --- from colonization to exploitation to fame & fortune to missionary work to just wanting to know what's there --- but there has been one objective on ALL of their lists: to locate the elephant graveyard. And all of their efforts in that case have been in vain.
"But does the graveyard even exist? No one knows, or those who do aren't saying. But still, the story is told, that when an elephant's time draws near, he or she knows. And when he or she knows the time is near, the elephant leaves the herd, and sets out on that one-way trip to elephant eternity.
"With no regard for anything, or anyone, but the trip and destination; the elephant walks, and walks, and then walks some more. Through jungles, across rivers, over or around mountains, maybe across a little patch of desert depending on where exactly we're talking.
"Finally, the African behemoth reaches its destination, its rendezvous with its own destiny: the fabled cemetery to which all of its kind must one day go. Once there, the elephant then keels over, and takes its rest from which it will not be awakened; its journey complete, as well as its life.
"Next stop: pachyderm paradise.
"The end."
Although the audience was small, person for person, Gerald had never received so enthusiastic a response to one of his tales.
Phoebe applauded until the soreness in her hands told her to stop, then spoke.
"Yet another masterful job of storytelling, Gerald."
"Thank you."
"But what does it have to do with the two of us getting hungry on our way to Geno's?"
"The trip accomplishes the purpose for the destination. In the elephant's case, it's the trip that kills it."
Phoebe, caught by surprise, was hard put to it not to choke on her laughter. "Oh, Gerald."
They walked on in silence for a while, then Gerald noticed the look on Phoebe's face, the look she had when she was thinking.
"What?"
"I was thinking about that story."
"What about it?"
"I have heard of such places, or the possibility thereof. Universal graveyards; they're better than gold mines to paleontologists. So many questions would be answered. And they actually exist. They're called lagerstatten."
"You're kidding."
"Not at all. One example is the LaBrea tar pits in Los Angeles."
"Now that you mention it... laughs "
"What?"
"Those things are supposed to trap those animals of limited intelligence. Considering it's in L.A., you'd think half of Hollywood would've gotten sucked under by now."
"That's why they have barricades between the people and the pits."
"Of course."
...and so it went. On the other side of the park, Arnold & Helga were also having yet another non-date. So they continued, the four of them, along with their three shadows.
...........................................................................
Journal entry, Saturday.
Another week has passed. Another week closer to happiness for H., and release for me. I think I'm getting over her.
Actually, and it scares me to admit this, I might be falling for someone else. It's L.
I can admit this on here --- more proof it seems that Dr. B. was right about journaling --- but I don't dare say anything about it elsewhere, and telling anyone else about it --- except perhaps Dr. B. --- is out of the question.
Say that I were to act on what I feel. And say that she were to respond --- and much as it shocks me, I find that such a concept is not out of the realm of possibility. What then? Let's face it: she is pretty and popular and perfect and all of that. Conversely, I am Brainy, one of the geeks, one of the twisted little freaks, as H. would say. What future could there possibly be for such a couple?
By now, I have a reputation, an image. 'So what?', I'd be the first to tell anyone who would listen; go against your image if you feel like it, and to you-know-what with what anyone else thinks. Does that apply in my case? What would happen if I were to try to act like someone who's not a geek, if I were to try to remake my image? Challenge everyone's image of me? Would that be allowed? Or would I be slapped down, shoved around, trampled underfoot by everyone? Maybe I'm just so comfortable in the background I'm afraid to step out of the shadows. I just don't know.
Anyway, I couldn't even think of such a thing now, not at this time. Not at this juncture, wouldn't be prudent, as someone said. Say I were to even kiss her right now; could either of us then concentrate on what we should be doing, on reconciling H. with her family, getting her together with A? Could I afford to take such a chance? Should I? Should I hazard H's future on such? And A's? And who knows who else?
We're playing with people's lives here, there's no getting around that. And I have to play to win. Sacrifices have to be made. If the sacrifices are mine, I can live with that; it was my idea. The needs of the many and all that.
Be right back; I need to get ready to turn in.
Brainy wheeled himself back a bit from the computer at which he'd been typing, after saving his journal entry thus far of course. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then clasped his hands in front of him with a stretch and an even bigger breath, a yawn.
He then rose from his seat, and did his usual bedtime routine, with a little difference. Sometimes he would put on a little music.
"Let's see, what am I in the mood for, hmm. Ah, country. And I know just the song."
He punched the appropriate buttons on his alarm clock radio, then headed for the phone.
"Hello, this is Nashville Ned, who do we have on this end?"
"Ned Jr."
"Oh, is that my trainee from Career Day?"
"That's me."
"Well, how you doing, little buddy?"
"Getting ready to turn in."
"Turn into what?"
"A zombie."
"Ah. Been there, more times than the days of your life."
"I can believe that."
"So what would you like to hear, kid?"
"'Unanswered Prayers'."
"You got it. What's your favorite country station?"
"K-DUDE."
"All right."
The line was silent for a bit, then Brainy heard Ned's voice again, this time his normal, more highly-pitched voice.
"Brainy, you still there?"
"Yes sir."
"You know how this works, that won't play for a while yet."
"I should be ready for bed by then."
"Ah, bed. Now that's something I haven't seen in a while."
"Funny."
"Is it? I'm not laughing. I'd like to ask you something, Brainy. Don't worry, we stopped taping right after you said the station's name."
"Thanks. I'm listening."
"You given any thought to this as a career? You were quite good on the job that day, really earned that 'A'."
"Thanks. I've thought about it, but I just don't have the voice for radio."
"Have you tried putting on a voice like I showed you, like I do?"
"Yeah. I don't know, maybe I need more practice. But you've taught me a lot, and I'll be using the stuff I learned from you, probably the rest of my life."
"Well, that's the idea of Career Day in the first place. It's not so we can find our successors, although in some cases that happens."
"I know."
"Um, do you know of anyone who might be interested in this line of work?"
"Hmm. Well, there's Marcy Kornblum."
"Marcy Kornblum?"
"Yeah. She's usually the narrator for school plays when there's a need of one. Good voice, comfortable in front of an audience."
"Hold on, how do you spell that?"
"K-O-R-N-B-L-U-M."
"Got it. I'll look into that. Thanks for the heads-up, Brainy."
"You're welcome."
"And call in anytime. My line is always open when you're on the other end."
"That's nice to know. Thank you very much."
"You're welcome... Oop, the song's ending, gotta get back on the job."
"And I need to get ready for--"
"Don't say it, I'm having enough trouble staying awake as it is."
"All right. Talk to you again, Ned."
"Any time, Brainy."
click
Change clothes. Brush your teeth. Get the bed ready. Turn off the light. And anything else your parents have ever told you to do when night falls. All of the above were soon accomplished; nothing remained but to finish the journal entry and shut down the computer; the radio would shut itself off in a few. So Brainy sat down to do the former.
I'm back.
Huh, to look at what I'm typing you'd think I was in a chat room.
Anyway, I was writing about making sacrifices; I'm not so sure it would be such a sacrifice.
I mean, what would I be sacrificing? A future I might not have? What would there be here for me? People know me by an alias, and that's because my real name is mud around here. It's about time I take a long hard look at my life, and make some decisions about my future.
But not tonight. Tomorrow's Sunday, and I need to be at my best for the group meeting. So good night.
Sincerely yours, E.M.E.V.
File Save
File Exit Works
Start Shut Down
What do you want the computer to do?
Shut down
Megahard Doors 98 Doors is shutting down
It is now safe to turn off your computer
click
As Brainy headed to the sack, he could hear his request on the radio.
She was the one I'd wanted for all times
And each night I'd spend prayin' that God would make her mine
And if he'd only grant me this wish I wished back then
I'd never ask for anything again
sigh , Well, at least it has a happy ending. Who knows, sometimes life imitates art, maybe we all can have a happy ending.
One can hope.
Good night.
There it is, please read and review, y'all. I keep trying to outdo myself, and hopefully I keep succeeding. As always, I'm Nftnat, on e-mail I'm Nftnataol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat . Cy'all around.