Finally, finally, FINALLY! here is the next chapter. Wow, that was a long 'interlude', wasn't it? Seriously, I am sorry that I've kept y'all waiting so long. things have been happening to me irl, from sudden loss of documents I hadn't saved to deaths of relatives, you name it; and when I did get back to my fics there was something else I felt had to be gotten out of the way first, and dealing with that alone took a month or two. But y'all aren't interested in excuses; y'all are interested in the next chapter, which here is.

That, and the feedback to the reviews:

Thank you, savagemind. That I can leave you speechless like this kind of leaves me speechless too.

Thanks, Miss Matched. Eh, no need to turn in your "Brainy's Lovers" membership card; you don't see anyone else doing it. And as soon as I recover from that beating, I'll thank you properly. Hey, maybe you'll do a Brainy fic of your own; I've seen your writings and am impressed. Not to mention that awards thingy, and that's from someone who's been in on a number of internet awards shows. Thanks for the nomination.

Thank you, Helga243. Hmm, I figured all of these Helga fangirls were clones ;)

Thanks, Review Guy. I see I'm having that effect on another, which is having kind of an effect on me. I guess now I'll have to go read 'Earthbound', if I can find the time.

Thank you, TaDah. And if you thought THAT 'interlude' was huge...

Thanks, Snow Lane. Yes, there is reason in all things - at least in what I write - and such is the case with not getting you know who and you know who together just yet. I'm a believer in delayed gratification being all the more sweet when it finally comes. Thanks for not hating Lila anymore.

Briana LuvsFBH, you might want to take a few deep breaths here. Seriously, thank you very much; your enthusiasm is overwhelming. To paraphrase an old saying, the details bedevil me, so much trouble do I go to to get them right. Dr. Bliss will be back, and that's all I'll say about it right now. Yes, this story does kind of write itself; I can see the whole thing, kind of, and I really do feel it. In more than a few ways I kind of identify with Brainy, and with other characters. And I'm sorry I made you wait for so long.

Thanks, ChickenGoddess. Glad you caught the C.B. thing.

Paradox, I thank you again for your insights. Yes, I've been on the boards, doing that Episode Notes thing on the Episodes section. If you'll look there you'll find that I have been dissecting every episode in the first season (other seasons - coming soon) scene by scene. I try to look for things others miss and call attention to them. I agree with your analysis of Lila; wouldn't surprise me a bit if CB & Co. had exactly that in mind. I do try to look at things from other perspectives, although I'm still having trouble working my mind around some pov's, maybe that just means I'm human. I believe the song you have in mind is Bus Stop by the Hollies ("Bus stop, wet day, she's there, I say, 'Please share my umbrella'. But stop, bus goes, she stays, love grows, under my umbrella." And so on.). I hadn't noticed that about the Cheese Festival; now that I have I see what you mean. Maybe that was a shallower part; they were just a few feet from 'shore'. Although it wouldn't make much sense to have the water deep enough to swim in in a ride that will be taken apart the next day, especially one children will ride on. Yes, Lila will deal with some issues, starting here. And I see your point about Miriam too, although the context for that statement she made was a bit different. YOU'RE verbose? Don't worry about over-analyzing; that's my job.

Stoned Carson, thanks. I do appreciate that so many people take the time to tell me what they think, so I consider it my duty to respond to every one of them. You're right; there is much to be read into HA!, which I think is also what CB & Co. had in mind. There's much happening in the background if one knows where to look. And I'm glad you're coming around on Lila. And Arnold and Helga are about to come to the fore, especially with school about to start again.

Thank you, lildreamer. I am keeping it up.

Um, Sock, er, Tano, uh, whatever you want to call yourself, thanks. I really don't know what to say but thanks.

Thank you, Sleather Chonkers. I'm always glad to hear from the board veterans. There are other ways to look at what we see on the show, as many pov's as there are characters there. As to the puberty stuff, well, they are getting to be that age aren't they? And I've always been sympathetic toward Lila; I think it was pretty clearly implied that her mother died back in Pleasantville and that she and her father had to move to the big city in part because of that. Oh, and you're welcome.

Thanks, J.T. Hey, as continually as you've been reviewing I couldn't overlook a review from you no matter how many reviews I get.

Thank you, humble. Don't worry; there's plenty to come. There's some foreshadowing here. And there's a ST:TNG ref here, try to pick it out. Yes, we are on opposite side on politics and religion, but I don't let that keep me from being friends. I try to see all sides; I must admit finding all sides of all issues wanting, but I have made my choice. Ghosts? Hmm, well, there's the Holy Ghost... I think I'm getting to the Lila-haters one by one. And I'm sorry I made you squirm, although maybe it wasn't just me. I have this saying: At least once in one's lifetime, one should take a good, long, hard look at everything one believes and ask oneself, 'What if I'm wrong?' Well, that's all I'm going to say about that. Peace, love and happiness to you too.

And thanks to my Filipino friend zali. Hmm, what do you mean 'a guy like you'? ;) Yeah, Arnold and Helga do have this link. This was seen in the series, like when Helga screams and Arnold hears it but Gerald doesn't. And since that first day at the park it's deepened and developed. And thanks for the advice about the milk.

Thank you, purplepincushion. Another one notices the C.B. reference and liked it. Well, he is the creator of the series, so...

Thanks also go out to raindrop rae23. You got what I was going for with the apparently meaningless stuff. It will all tie together before all is said and done. I do strive for quality, sometimes at the cost of getting it in on time. Why, I spent the past couple of days looking at episodes to get the floor plans of the various characters' room down right. Not that I can or should blame that for this being so late, which I don't. And i'm glad that you agree about Lila.

Thank you, chewy. I appreciate your suggestion, and I will consider it.

And thanks beady. You're not the only one who will not review until the end of the fic *winks at a certain yardbird*. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so mean. I'm not really mean or nasty, just thoughtless and insensitive. *Kokoshka laugh* Um, here it is.

Oh, and Houkanno Yuuhou? You wanted more Shakespeare? You got more Shakespeare.

Hey Arnold! and all properties thereof are created by, copyright, and / or owned by Craig Bartlett, Snee-Oosh, and / or Nickelodeon, a unit of Viacom.

Kirk Gibson is copyright himself.

The Anaheim Angels are owned by the Walt Disney Corporation and are copyrighted by that corporation and / or Major League Baseball. Other major league baseball teams are copyright their respective owners and / or MLB.

The Chronicles of Narnia and all properties thereto are copyright the estate of C.S. Lewis. The Silver Chair is copyright 1953 by Colliers / MacMillan Publishing.

Shakespearean quotations are courtesy of The Riverside Shakespeare, Houghton-Mifflin, 1974.

Other authors named are copyright themselves, if they were smart.

Amish are copyrighted to the various Amish congregations, although they might not believe in such things, in which case we should really leave copyrighting it alone.

Court TV is copyright Coutroom Television Network LLC.

Morris chair is copyright someone I'm sure, but I have no idea by whom.

Archie Comics is copyright itself.

Homicide is copyright Barry Levinson / Tom Fontana and NBC (a unit of RCA), and is based on the Edgar award-winning book by David Simon.



Friday, 4:55 P.M.

*CRACK!*

The bat held by the member of the opposing team sang out as it caught the meat of the ol' horsehide, sending it soaring up, up, up...

All right, so it wasn't that dramatic. It was still en route to being a home run, going as high as a ball could go and still be playable within the friendly confines of Gerald Field. This would mean the ballgame. With the Angels up by one, and one man on, this home run would score the tying and winning runs for the opposition. Not a way one would want to end the summer, but what could one do; it was headed straight for right field with no one in a position to even come close to catching it except, well, the right fielder, who else? And that would be...

*Liiii-la!* Helga muttered under her breath, her catchers mask already off in her hand. *No, not the farm girl, not Miss Perfect.* She wasn't certain whether it would be worse to take a loss in the last game that summer, or to have her perceived rival be the hero of the game.

*Wait*, she continued to think, *what am I worried about? She's no athlete. So, we'll lose the game; oh well.*

But while Helga was distracted by her thoughts, out in right field, Lila had jumped up against the fence, glove held up high...

...and she caught it.

All right, so it seems like a Hollywood-ish ending to a baseball game; sometimes these things really happen, like Kirk Gibson's home run in the '88 series. Sometimes the home team, the one we're all rooting for, wins the last game of the, um, summer; one couldn't say season because that would mean the team was in an organized league or something. The summer had been nothing like that; teams had formed around friends who were used to each other and who like the game and each other enough to play together on a continuing basis. Or in such cases as this one, the force of someone's personality prevailed to whip up a team from among the acquaintances of said personality; in this case, the personality of Helga G. Pataki. That was it. Sandlot ball in its purest form, which meant no leagues or trophies or anything.

But we digress. To reiterate, Lila caught the ball, saving the game for the Angels, to a little bit of chagrin from Helga who was of two minds about the situation. Fortunately she was influenced via peer pressure to focus on the positive; she even joined in carrying Lila off the field, if only to make sure that Arnold didn't have any physical contact with Miss Perfect.

It was a good ending to a good game, and apart from the opposing team and their entourage, everyone thought so. The players were to say the least in quite a good mood. And so were their families, who had come to catch the last game, even the Patakis. Yes, Olga had managed to drag the parental units to Gerald Field, where Big Bob was silently congratulating himself for reconsidering his decision to build his beeper emporium where he had just seen his younger daughter's team's moment of glory. Curiously, although not so much so to those in the know, she appeared to ignore his declarations of how she was always a winner just like he'd taught her, but maybe the less said about that the better.

As has been stated, the kids and their families were in a good mood. And the families of the kids themselves weren't the only ones who stepped forth to offer congratulations.

"Hey, Arnie!"

"Coach?"

Yes, it was Coach Wittenberg, both of them...

"Hey."

...with their son Tucker in tow.

After the usual pleasantries...

"Arnie, we've been watching the game, that whole competition that just concluded, situationally speaking, and I gotta tell ya the strategery was..."

While Coach Wittenberg, male, went on talking about whatever it was he was talking about; Coach Wittenberg, female, gravitated toward Helga. The two strong-willed pink ladies had a bit of a tete-a-tete.

"So, Helga, congratulations."

"Thanks, Tish."

"I guess you're glad you put Lila in right field after all."

"Wha-? What makes you think I had anything to do with it?"

"You're kidding, right? First, we both know it's the catcher who runs the team; second, you've been on my teams before and we know that you're a natural-born leader; third, I noticed the name."

"The Angels?"

"Same name --- Helga's Angels in fact --- that you attached to the name of that bowling team you were on? MY bowling team?"

Helga remembered that. "Yeah."

"Therefore we can conclude that you, Helga G. Pataki, were the team leader; i.e., that you pretty much made all of the decisions about who did what, where, and when."

"What can I say?"

"There's nothing to say; it's your dominant personality. It's the same with me."

"There's a shocker." Helga couldn't help but notice as Coach Wittenberg, male, momentarily got a bit more animated than usual. "He seems to be happy."

Tish looked behind her toward her husband. "Jack? Yeah, well, you know how he is; nothing's more important to him than winning."

"Except for you, Tish."

"Sweet of you to say so; what do you want?"

They both had a bit of a laugh over that.

"But seriously, Tish..."

"Yeah, you're right. I gotta admit, since he discovered his sensitive side, Coach has mellowed a little. Not that he'd ever admit that. And I've been working on him too. Would you believe he can actually look at our son now and see a human being, not a body in a sporting contest --- even if he is the star, or supposed to be?"

"You mean Tucker? Is that him?"

"Yeah, that's him. That's right; you've never met him, have you?"

"No I haven't."

"You want I should introduce you?"

"Maybe later."

Later would be a good idea; as it was, Tucker was a bit busy catching up with old friends Gerald and Stinky...

"Yeah, it looks good. You guys built this field yourself?"

"Well, I didn't on account of I wasn't there at the time, but I reckon Gerald did. I hear it was kinda his idea."

"Mine and Arnold's."

"Is that why it's called 'Gerald Field'?"

"Yeah! Just say it: 'Gerald Field'."

"Yeah, I see what you mean."

"'Gerald Field'. Sounds good to me."

"Yeah. Thanks, Stinky."

"So, who else was involved? It looks like a professional job."

"That's just because the grownups forced us out the second day this field existed, then we put 'em on a guilt trip so they fixed it back for us the next day. Now let's see, there was Harold, and Sheena, and Eugene, and-"

"And Helga?"

" *sigh* And Helga, and Brainy, and-"

"And Robert."

"Right, and Robert, and... Robert?"

Gerald turned around to see who had spoken, and found himself face to face with the person who had just spoken his very name; curly blond hair, glasses and all.

"Robert! Where have you been?"

"Oh, around. While you guys were doing those projects, the rest of us had the reading list. So we had plenty of time for street ball."

"Man! It's like since you guys switched classes, you just disappeared!"

"You know you're always welcome to join the game. Some of us prefer street ball." Now Robert turned his attention to Tucker. "So, how have things been going in Arizona?"

"Okkay. here?"

"Fine."

"Wait," Gerald interrupted, "you two have been keeping in touch?"

"Sure." Tucker confirmed. "When I had to go back to boarding school after the YMAA league season ended, we traded addresses. He keeps me up with what's happening with Frankie and Ravi and them."

"I reckon I coulda done that if I hadn't have found so much interestin' stuff to do with Harold and Sid." Stinky thought out loud.

To Gerald's amusement. "Our local attempt at a gang." he winked at the others, jerking a thumb in Stinky's direction.

The reunion is interrupted, courtesy of Tucker's father. "Hey, Tucker! Come on over here, and bring your friends with you."

" *sigh* Yes, Dad."

"He all right with you now?" Gerald asked as they walked over to where the coach was.

Tucker shrugged. "Winning's not everything to him anymore, if that's what you mean. And he's not constantly pressuring me anymore, not since he and Mom got back together."

"I still can't believe you weren't here for their second wedding." Robert said.

"Blows my mind." Gerald agreed.

Again, Tucker shrugged. "It was a spur of the moment thing, and I couldn't get a flight up here in time. It's no big deal. I wasn't there for their first wedding either."

"I reckon that's a right mature way to be a-lookin' at things."

By now, the Wittenbergs had assembled together as a family. Between them, they'd assembled all of the Angels as well as a couple of friends or other hangers-on. Jack Wittenberg was now about to give a speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as what passes around here for the first family of athletic entitlements, it was recumbent upon us - the Wittenbergs - to do something toward fostering independent athletic activity around here. With that in mind, we've been observing local independent goings-on over the course of the summer, competitionally speaking-"

"Jack." Tish nudged.

"Hm? Oh, yes. As I was saying, several of our colleagues and we have been observing things and we have colluded that you, the Angels, have had the best season of any local independent athletic congregation hereabouts, locally speaking; and that, therefore, you, the Angels, are the unofficial independent youth champions!"

Whatever the clarity of the circumstances, when kids hear that they're champions, they have a typical reaction: one of happiness. Such was the reaction now.

When the applause and cheers had died down, Helga was quick to get down to business. "So what does that mean? Do we get a trophy?"

Immediately Jack started to sweat. "Well, no..."

"A ribbon?" Phoebe inquired.

"Well, no..."

"Rings?" That was from Gerald.

"Uh... you got fifty cents?"

Arnold had, as usual, been trying to think of a way out of a dilemma. He thought he had it, or at least he hoped he did. "Well, how about treating the team to ice cream at Slausen's?"

Jack looked at Tish, who nodded. "Good thinking, Arnie." he finished with a wink and a point toward his addressee.

5:21 P.M.

Ice cream at Slausen's it was. It only took seconds for word to spread; within one minute the stampede toward the local ice cream eatery was on. There was no worry on the part of the unofficial youth independent champion Angels; certain grownups would be footing the bill. Although considering how much a bunch of twelve and thirteen year olds could put away - especially the sixteen-going-on-seventeen Harold - the Wittenbergs and their colleagues would be sure to opt in the future for the seemingly more expensive traditional rewards.

At the entrance, Arnold - ever the gentleman - held the door open for the others. Eventually, Lila came to the door. Other than baseball, this was really the first time they had met since she had given him the heave-ho. Uncomfortability hung in the air, although the two good hearts tried to ignore it and make small talk.

"Um, Lila."

"Hello, Arnold."

"Hi."

"That was a good game you had."

"Thanks, although it was your play that won it for us."

"Not just my play; I'm oh so certain that it was the last play of the game and if it hadn't been for you-"

"All right, out of my way! One side! Move it!" was the unmistakeable sound of Helga G. Pataki establishing to one and all who was boss.

In no time she was at the door, where after a panicked examination of the situation she quickly took charge. "Move it or lose it, Footballhead!"

A by-now-jaded Arnold's eyelids fell to half staff as he fell into the old game Helga still liked to play in public. "Whatever you say, Helga."

"That's right; whatever I say." Helga hmphed as Arnold passed her into Slausen's. "Hmph, annoying little smartypants-" She cut herself off as she notice Lila staring at her again, staring That Stare. "What are YOU looking at?"

"I'm not sure."

Fed up, Helga grabbed Lila by the arm and pulled her with her into the nearest alley.

"What are you doing to me, Lila? What are you trying to do to me?"

"Why, I have no idea what you mean, Helga."

"Don't play dumb with me! You've been staring at me like that all summer, ever since you... you PUSHED me!"

"I'm ever so sorry for that, Helga."

"No you're not."

Now it was Lila's turn for eyelids to go to half staff as she adaped a serious mien. "Is this about that little matter that you mentioned once in connection with strangling me with your bare hands?"

Helga flinched. "You know it is."

"Helga, I have not done anything to try to interfere with you-know-what."

"So why have you been looking at me like that?"

"I've just been wondering when you'd do anything about it."

"I'm not READY to do that! I've tried to tell the truth, several times. I actually did it once, and neither of us could handle it. We're not ready!"

"You're both teenagers now. If you're not ready by now..."

"You're not going to try anything are you?"

"Oh, no, I'M not. Believe me, Helga, you have no reason whatsoever to be angry with me."

"Excuse me?"

Two heads turned in varying degrees of shock and even panic, to see their mutual friend at the opening of the alleyway.

"Phoebe?"

"Helga? Lila? What are you doing here?"

"Um, well,..."

"We needed to talk about some personal matter, a matter we didn't think shouuld risk being overheard."

"Yeah, what she said."

"Phoebe, could you give us another minute?"

"Very well, Lila." Phoebe stepped back and let Helga and Lila have some privacy.

Of which Lila, for once, was quick to take advantage. "As I was saying-"

"Who cares what you're saying, anyway? Not me!" And with that, Helga was about to storm out of there, when the unthinkable happened: Lila actually blocked her path.

"Out of my way, farm girl!"

"Not until you've heard me out." Lila did not know where this store of resolve came from, but too much was on the line for her to not say what she had to say to Helga. "Helga, I told you that you have no reason to be angry with me. But if you simply must be angry, I have a candidate who would be ever so perfect." Her eyes narrowed a second time.

"Someone once wrote something on a wall. Whoever it was wrote the words 'Arnold Loves Lila'. I read those words and thought Arnold loved me-"

"What, no 'like like'?"

Lila ignored Helga, blindly pushing on. "I thought Arnold loved me, so I started to spend every minute with him. Finally, he told me that he had never loved me. I was crushed, but I got over it. But there was an unintended consequence: the time I'd spent with him had planted seeds in him which blossomed into love for me. By then I no longer loved him and had convinced myself that I had never really loved him; it was the idea of being in love with him. And so things had continued until the beginning of this summer, which was when I started trying to fix things between us. Do you want to hate someone, Helga? You go find who wrote those words on that wall, and you go hate that person, for your hate is wasted on me."

Her speech completed, Lila now stepped aside. Helga looked at her like she'd just been shot - although not by her - then slapped herself back into shape, so to speak. She stalked up the alley and into the street, where she hung a corner toward Slausen's. "Phoebe!"

"Coming." Phoebe responded. But before she lived up to her word, she looked back at Lila, who was now within speaking distance. "What was that about?"

Lila sighed. "About ten minutes of wasted effort, I'm afraid."

Phoebe moaned. "Oh no. I'm starting to wonder if even Brainy can pull this off."

"I don't know. If he can't, God help us all."

"Amen."

"PHOEBE!"

"You'd better go with your friend." Lila advised.

Phoebe nodded, then took off, catching up to Helga in time to accompany her into Slausen's.

As they walked through the ice cream parlor they passed several tables. Typically, it was at the most easily overlooked table that Brainy sat, just picking at his ice cream while staring off into nothing.

Presently - and unexpectedly, for him - someone noticed him. A female someone. Someone who walked over to his table.

"Hello, Brainy."

"Eh, huh?"

"May I join you?"

"Uh, okkay."

So she sat down.

"Uh, nougat?"

"Thanks."

By the time she got to the counter, Helga was alone; Phoebe had seen Gerald and had excused herself. She was stewing by her lonesome at the counter, when a very familiar shadow fell across her face.

"Can I buy you an ice cream?"

Helga *pff*ed. "You stupid footballhead, we're not paying for any of this!"

She then looked at him, just in time to see his eyebrows wiggling.

She looked away. "Please, don't; I have an image." she mumbled, just loud enough for him and no one else to hear.

Arnold sat down next to her. "Look, Helga, you look like you need cooling off. What better way to do that than with ice cream?"

Helga looked back at him. "I hate it when you're right." And with a small smile in his direction, she then turned her attention to the currently empty space behind the counter. "Hey! What do we have to do to get some service around here?"

Arnold smiled at her.

"Sheena, are you sure this is all right?"

"It's all right, Eugene. Trust me."

"I do but, I'm not even sure if it's legal."

"Eugene..."

"Eugene, you don't have to worry about that. Simmons and I discussed this at length, and in detail. I made certain that there would be nothing left to chance."

"You hear that, Eugene? Lorenzo knows what he's talking about. So don't worry."

"I still don't know..."

Meanwhile, Lila had finally walked in, and was in for a bit of a surprise.

"Brainy?"

"Uh, hi?" Brainy started to sweat.

"Hello, Lila."

"Hello, Nadine. Whatever are you doing here?"

"Just catching up with an old friend."

"Really?"

"Yes. You know, aside from being best friends with Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, I'm pretty much of a geek myself, and I try to keep in touch with 'geeks', although sometimes according to Rhonda that's pretty much everyone. Besides, my insects like his nougats; he keeps them supplied."

"Well, that sounds nice."

About then, Nadine started to feel out of place. "Oh, I'm sorry. You two are doing that project thing together, aren't you? I'd better go see what trouble Sid and Rhonda are getting into. If any." She hastily added as she made a graceful exit.

Lila sat down in the chair Nadine had just vacated; she could feel the warmth in the seat. "So, Ed-"

Brainy went into a coughing fit, which caused Lila to remember. "Oh dear, I'm sorry."

"Heh, it's all right." he breathed.

"So, what do... huh?" Lila cut herself off as Brainy slid a folded sheet of paper across to him.

"I don't understand; do you want me to read what's in here?"

Brainy nodded, still breathing heavily, as was his wont. "Yeah."

"I see."

The ice cream came. Arnold had his usual, and Helga had...

"Strawberry? I thought you were allergic."

"Go figure. I am allergic to strawberries, but I can handle strawberry ice cream just fine. Weird, isn't it?"

"Not really. Maybe it's just the strawberry seeds you're allergic to."

"Hmm, maybe."

"It's been known to happen. Stinky once told me about this guy his folks knew back in Arkansas. He's allergic to tomatoes, but he has no problem with spaghetti sauce or ketchup. I guess it's in the processing; something they do to it must remove the seeds or whatever other, um..."

"Allergens?"

"Yeah, right, allergens." Arnold smiled. "Thanks, Helga."

Helga cast at Arnold a sidelong smile of her own. "I'm the one who should be thanking you, Arnold." She mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear. "I don't know how I'd have made it through this summer without you."

Arnold turned serious, a state of being into which he always puts his whole heart. "I'll always be there for you, Helga." he whispered. "I want you to remember that."

Helga almost beamed. Almost.

Almost, because just then, Harold stuck his not-quite-as-fat-as-it-used-to-be face into the situation. "Hey, look, AH-nold and Heeeeel-ga are sittin' together!"

The situation could have been disastrous. It was just the sort of thing guaranteed to cause Mount St. Helga to erupt with an explosion that would have done credit to the Cascades.

Sid and Stinky were with Harold too, wouldn't you know it; but before they or anyone else could get started they noticed another sizeable shadow falling across their field of view. They knew that shadow. They found it unsettling.

"Hello."

Harold turned around quickly, very quickly. He knew that voice, very well.

"P-patty?"

"Hello, Harold. Heheheheheheh."

"Uh, hi, Patty."

Patty smiled in Harold's direction, but when she looked at his friends her expression changed. "Don't you have something to do?"

Sid and Stinky gulped. They had not forgotten how they had teased Harold about losing to Patty, and they imagined that she hadn't forgotten it either.

"Uh, I guess I could find something to do."

"I reckon I could be at home a-tendin' my crops."

"Good. Why don't you do that?" Patty intoned. At both of them.

"I'm a leavin'."

"Yeah, me too."

They were out of Patty's sight as quickly as they could move.

The look Brainy presented to Lila was its usual blankness, which frustrated her. With no other option, she opened the paper.

*What did Eleanor Blackiston hear Adela Pennyfather say about Eustace Scrubb?*

Scratching her head, she again faced her inscrutable colleague. "'Eustace Scrubb'? As in Narnia?"

Brainy nodded.

"But what does that have to do with anything?"

Brainy said nothing; he merely changed the direction in which he was looking.

Lila, turning, followed his line of sight ...straight to the counter where Harold was sitting.

She turned back. "Harold has something to do with this?"

He nodded again.

"But what? What connection can he possibly have with the works of C.S. Lewis?"

And she got nothing, nothing but that infuriating blankness.

Thoughts of their conversation the previous Sunday came back to her. Then, with a sigh that accompanied a fallen expression, she fixed him in a dangerous glare. "You're going to make me unpack those books I told you about, aren't you?"

Another nod. "Uh, yeah."

"So, Harold. Buy a girl an ice cream?" she asked with the familiarity an almost-girlfriend would show only to her almost-boyfriend (and don't you DARE intimate such a relationship around either of them, or worse yet around BOTH of them).

"Um, Patty, I guess you haven't heard. Some grownups are paying for all of this."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They figured that our team was the best at something, so they're buying for the whole team."

"But Harold, I'm not on the team."

"Oh yeah."

"So what I eat here wouldn't be paid for."

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"So...?"

"Um, hey!" he yelled behind the counter, "Could you give her something? I'll pay for it!"

So Patty placed her order. As they settled down to wait for it, she flashed a surreptitious wink where Arnold and Helga could catch it.

Out of sight, but not so far away that they couldn't see what was going on, Sid and Stinky looked on.

"Boy howdy, Harold's got it bad."

"Well, I reckon we all are gonna be doin' that eventually."

"Not me, Stinko. I'll never... uh, I'll be right back." Sid suddenly took off.

Stinky looked where he was going and saw Rhonda and Nadine at a table in Sid's direction. He had a little laugh at that.

With their orders, Arnold and Helga had decided to have milkshakes. Arnold held his aloft, then out toward Helga in the form of a toast.

"To the Angels."

"To the Angels." she returned the toast.

As they were slurping on their straws, Helga noticed an expression on Arnold's face with which she was familiar - granted, that could be any expression as much of a study as she had made of his face over the years. But this time she noticed that he was thinking.

"What?"

"I was just wondering if the success of our Angels is a good sign for the success of the major league Angels?"

Helga the sports fan couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What?!? You mean you think Anaheim will win in the playoffs? The World Series, even?"

"Well, why not?"

"This just in, Arnold: The only place the Angels will ever win the World Series is in that movie their corporate parent put out a few years ago, just before they bought the team."

"You never know; it could happen."

"You don't watch that classic sports channel much, do you? The Angels only made it to the league championship series once, and that ended badly. The poor pitcher that gave up that pitch to Boston eventually committed suicide because of it, and then Boston messed up the World Series. Look, you can go back to when that singing cowboy owned the team; every time it looks like they're going to go somewhere, something bad happens, like someone dying. Ever hear of Lyman Bostock?"

"Well, just because it's never happened in the past doesn't mean it couldn't happen this year."

Casting her eyes skyward with a heavy sigh, Helga said "Oh, Arnold." Once her attention was back on him, she started to logically explain things to him. "Look, first the Angels don't have any stars. They don't have anyone."

"That could be a good thing."

"For one or two rounds, maybe, but not for the whole thing. What do you think they'll do, suit up their rally monkeys?"

Before Arnold could say anything, a distant cry of "MON-KEYMAAAAANNN!" could be heard outside. Arnold looked at Helga.

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't start. As I was saying, they don't have what it takes. They probably won't even make it to the playoffs, and if they do it'll be as a wild card team. A wild card team! Do you know what long odds they'd be up against then?"

"Well, Florida was a wild card team the year they won it all."

"Florida had a bunch of high-priced players, like Arizona did last year and still does. But as I was saying, Anaheim won't even win their division. Say they do manage to make it into the playoffs. You know that somewhere along the way they're going to have to play the Yankees, or the team that beats the Yankees. Do you realize how much that team is still smarting over last year? They - and especially that owner of theirs - honestly think that it's their right to be the champions every year! They're still hurting over not winning it all last year, and they won't let that happen again this year. But even if they do, what does that say about the team that beats them?"

"That team could be the Angels."

"Even granting that, even assuming that they actually by some miracle manage to make it into the World Series, they'd still have the entire National League to contend with. The defending champion is still there, and they haven't really lost anyone from last year. Then there's the Giants; this is Barry Bonds' year. The only thing left for him to do is to get that World Series ring, and his team is going to make sure that happens. No, Arnold. The Angels will never win the World Series, especially not this year."

"We'll see, Helga; we'll see."

"I'll tell you what; I'll give you the Angels against every other team in both leagues. I'll bet you that the Angels will not win, and I will collect."

"What will you collect?"

"Hmm, we'll worry about that when it happens, and it will happen."

"But what if they do win? Then what will I get from you?"

"Don't worry; that won't happen. You just worry about what I'm going to take from you or make you do for me."

Arnold again shrugged. "Whatever you say, Helga, whatever you say."

Outside, a young blonde was passing by on the other side of the street. She was troubled, and was out to get some air, to do some thinking.

As she passed Slausen's, she noticed a crowd of children inside, some of which she thought she recognized. She stopped, and stood there for a time, staring, and thinking.

================================================================

7:57 P.M.

Lila had just returned to the apartment dwelling she shared with her father. Daddy wanted her in by 8:00, because in a big city like this, you just never know. And she always tried to do what Daddy said, so she was always in before then. Well, except for the occasional event like a play or concert or fair or whatever, but most of the time...

She now stood in her room, in front of her hope chest, mentally steeling herself for the trauma she knew she was about to undergo, knowing what was inside and the memories associated with each item she was about to rediscover.

"Well, here goes."

9:03 P.M.

It had been as bad as she had feared, unpacking the books from the farm. Each book she saw awakened in her old memories; it was a wise move, making sure she had the box of tissues at the ready.

Actually, a few books had been unpacked when they moved to Hillwood; they were on a shelf with some of Lila's stuffed animals. Those few had been all she had been able to unpack way back when, all she had been able to stand. She had found it easier to put them up on a shelf and forget about them, as well as their brethren and sisters still locked away in that trunk. Now, all that had changed. She had to empty the chest of its contents, at least down to L.

The books had been packed in alphabetical order, so now they came out the opposite way. Yeats, Williams, Wells, Updike, Twain, Tolstoy, Thackeray, Stendahl, Steinbeck, Shaw, Shakespeare, Rousseau, Poe, Moliere; all were now scattered hither and yon around Lila's room, a few opened, and with a damp place or two as likely as not.

She had finally reminisced her way back to L. Specifically, to Lewis, C.S.

"Here we are, 'Chronicles of Narnia'. Let's see, Silver Chair, where is it? Here we go."

flip flip flip

"Ah. Here we are.",

*Eleanor Blakiston heard Adela Pennyfather talking about it in our changing room yesterday. She said, 'Someone's got hold of that Scrubb kid. He's quite unmanageable this term. We shall have to attend to him next.'* Hmm, 'attend to him next'. But what does that have to do with Harold? Does Edward mean we'll attend to Harold next?" As she pondered these matters over a certain sheet of notebook paper she'd gotten from Brainy at summer's beginning, she was unaware that she was about to have a visitor.

*knock knock*

"Yes?" she backed away from the chest and hurriedly removed the signs of her having been out of sorts as best she could. As the door opened, though, it occurred to her that there wasn't much she could do about the open chest or the books all over the room.

"Lila, honey?"

"Yes, Daddy?"

Mr. Sawyer's eyes swept the room, then were drawn to his only child. With mingled sadness and - for her sake - cheerfulness, he managed to get it out. "You finally decided to unpack the books?"

She nodded. "It was time for me to, to deal with some things."

He swallowed. The love he had for his child, and the concern, threatened to leak from his face. "How do you think you will be?"

"I, I'll survive. It won't be pleasant, but I'll get through this, Daddy."

As she was speaking, he was walking softly toward her. As she finished, he enveloped her in his arms, a favor she returned in kind. "That's my girl."

Parting with a kiss on the forehead, his care for his daughter showed through in that same sad smile. "Lila, the reason I knocked is, Olga is here."

"Oh."

"If you're not up to seeing her, I could ask her to come back tomorrow."

"No no, that's all right, Daddy. There's no such thing as a bad time to see my Big Sis."

"She looks like she's a bit upset too." he cautioned.

And was surprised when she responded, "Good. That'll take my mind off of my problems, trying to help her."

Reinforcing his sad smile, and with a bit of a sniffle himself, he left the room with an affectionate squeeze on her shoulder. As she turned to prepare herself and her room, she could hear a bit of conversaion on the other side of the door.

"Now Olga, take all the time you need. But when you're finished I will drive you home."

"Mr. Sawyer, that won't be necessary."

"No, I insist. If something were to happen to you on your way home from here I would never forgive myself. Now, don't you worry about it."

"If you insist. Thank you, sir."

The door opened.

"Lil Sis?"

"Come in, Big Sis."

She did. As the gap closed between the two saccharine girls, Lila noticed that her father had not exaggerated. Olga was trying to hold it together inside of her, and was succeeding. For the moment.

"Olga?"

"Lila, I, I..." She was interrupted when Lila guided her into the small chair in the middle of the room, and knelt by her side. Sitting there gave her time to gather her thoughts.

"Lila, you know that thing we've been working on, about Mummy and Daddy and, and Helga?"

"Yes, of course, Olga. What about it?"

*snif* "Well, you know that it's coming to a head; as a matter of fact, tomorrow is supposed to be the day that I confront them. Only..." she trailed off.

Lila prodded. "'Only', what?"

Olga turned her head so that Lila had a good look at her full in the face. It was a bleak, haggard face that Lila saw, a face of a person who had been awake all the previous night, and perhaps the night before as well.

"I, I don't know if I can do it, Lila."

Lila gasped. "Olga-"

"I'm just not strong enough, Lila. I'm not strong enough to go through with this, not emotionally able to handle it. If I were stronger, if I were like Helga, say, I wouldn't even have to go through this. I would have done something about it a long time ago."

"But Olga..."

"This is my family, Lila. It's not much, but it's all I have, all I've ever had. If something goes wrong tomorrow, I'll lose everything, absolutely everything in my life. Oh, I could keep winning awards and trophies and such, but what would be the point? Everything I've ever won has been to please my family; without them, there would be no reason to go on winning. There, there would be no reason to, to do anything. No reason FOR anything, no point in going on."

Another gasp, one that caused Lila to rear back on her haunches, as it were. "Olga, you don't mean...?"

"I don't know, Lila. That's part of what's on my mind, not knowing, not even knowing what I think, what I want." She was starting to lose it now. "I'm scared, Lila. I've never really had to think about my future, because I knew that my family would always be there. If I were to lose them..." she trailed off in sniffles that were becoming larger with every sniff.

Lila recognized Olga's crying jag; she knew there was nothing for it but to ride it out. Reaching up, she pulled Olga's head onto her shoulder and let her cry it out, keeping an eye out for where she'd put the box of tissues.

After she deemed that sufficient time had passed, Lila started to go to work, and hoped that every word she said was the right one.

"Olga, you know that it's not just you we're talking about. You know what is at stake for Helga."

"I know, Lila. If it weren't for that, if it weren't for Helga, I would have folded immediately, just like I've done before. I would have knuckled under and kept playing Mary Sunshine, instead of confronting Daddy like I've been doing this summer. It's taken so much out of me, standing up to him..."

"Olga?"

"Lila, I have this feeling that if this goes wrong, it could go wrong, you know."

"I, well,"

Olga shot up out of the chair and started pacing around the room as she continued her 'what-if's.

"It could, and if it does it'll destroy the family, it'll destroy the whole Pataki family, and then what good will that do for Helga?"

"Will keeping on going along do anything for Helga?"

silence

"Olga?"

"I, I guess not."

"So if it's a choice between a chance for her and no chance at all, well..."

"Don't you think I know that? But, I, I don't know. If only I were stronger, Lila, if only I were stronger..."

By now Olga had returned to the chair; her arms shot out in front of her and grabbed the seat, in an effort to brace herself. As Olga trailed off again, Lila's mind raced. She reviewed every possibility that she could think of, everything she might have picked up from Brainy and Phoebe. She desperately searched through her mind for something, anything, that could help Olga.

As her mind wandered, so did her eyes. They were sweeping over everything in the room, much as Lila herself was going over everything in her memory. Then they fell upon her bed, where one of the books from home stood out somewhat more prominently than the others. It was a thick book, the works of Shakespeare.

That's when it hit her.

"Olga?"

"Mmm?" Olga's head went up and turned as Lila again got her attention.

"If you were in, oh, how shall I put it? A sterner frame of mind. Could you do this, if you were?"

"Well, I think so. But I'm not in a sterner frame of mind, so-"

"Wait, hear me out. I think I have an idea. How are you at method acting?"

"Method acting?" She stood as the implications of what Lila was asking cycled through her mind. "I was an excellent method actress; why do you ask?"

"I thought that if you-"

"Wait, I think I know what you mean, Lila. But I'm planning on confronting Mummy and Daddy tomorrow! How can I get into character at this late date? Or even find a character to get into?"

"I think I have the right character in mind." Lila responded as she left Olga's side and approached the bed, and the Shakespeare book. "How did you do in Shakespeare in college?"

For a moment, a touch of pride came to Olga. "I always get an 'A'." she stated.

Remembering something she'd seen on television, Lila muttered under her breath, "So did Frankenstein."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. There's a certain woman who'd be the perfect character. Someone hard, cold, ruthless. Someone who dispensed with all of her tender feelings and put everything on the line to get what she wanted."

"You mean from the Scottish play?"

"The Scottish play?"

"In the theater, it's bad luck to refer to that play by name."

"Oh, I see. Well, are you familiar with Lady 'the Scottish play'?"

That bit of humor was desperately needed amid all the heavy amounts of angst. After a fit of giggling on both their parts, Olga nodded. "Would you believe I played her?"

Lila was amazed. "Wow! Although I'm finding out that miracles happen."

"So you intend for me to get into her character?"

"Well, yes. What do you think?"

"I suppose it's worth a try. You wouldn't happen to have any of the script so that I could-"

Lila gestured toward her bed. "It's in this book right here."

"You have a copy of Shakespeare? Wait," Olga interrupted herself as for the first time she looked around the room. "Where did all these books come from?"

"From my hope chest. I packed them in there when we moved here from the farm."

"You never told me about that."

Lila looked to her side in sadness. "It, it hurt to remember. It still does."

Olga caught the sudden catch in Lila's voice. "Lila?"

"It's all right, Olga. I'll be fine; I just need to work through this."

"Well, if you say so, Lila."

Lila approached Olga, the book now in her hands. She'd been flipping through it, searching for the appropriate page. Finally, she found it. "Here, Olga. I think this is the page you will need."

Her eyes darted down to the page, scanning it as she had done with many a text in classes dating back to kindergarten. After a minute, she looked up. Lila could see a fire starting to burn in Olga's eyes. She kept quiet while Olga verbally reviewed what is possibly the most coldhearted passage ever written for a female character:

"'Come, you spirits

That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,

And fill me from the crown to the toe topful

Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood,

Stop up th' access and passage to remorse,

That no compunctious visitings of nature

Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between

Th' effect and [it]! Come to my woman's breasts,

And take my milk for gall, you murth'ring ministers,

Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,

And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,

That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,

Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark

To cry, 'Hold, hold!'"

As Olga finished her soliloquy, Lila could see the change in her. She was no longer the weeping willow prone to crumble at any sign of pressure. She was now resolute, adamant, implacable. In the truest spirit of method acting, Olga Pataki had become Lady MacBeth.

She almost called Olga's name, but decided that would be counterproductive. As Olga started to walk toward the door, Lila pursued what she judged to be the wisest course of action: she simply stepped out of the way.

Olga, too, strived to maintain her state of mind, careful not to break character. As she passed Lila, though, she allowed herself ten words.

"Thank you Lila. I think I can handle it now."

Instead of saying 'you're welcome', Lila just got the door for Olga.

"Daddy?"

Mr. Sawyer looked up from the book he was reading to see his daughter standing in front of him. Next to her stood Olga, who looked a little, well, out of it.

"Yes, Lila? Have you had your talk?"

"Yes, Daddy. Olga's ready to go home now. And Daddy, I hope you won't think Olga rude if she doesn't speak to you. She's in character for a very important part she's going to play tomorrow, and she doesn't want to break it."

Olga's eyes shifted toward Lila, blinking in a glint of agreement.

"Oh. All right; I'll get the car. Now Lila, you will make sure to lock the door, won't you? I'll be worried with you in the house by yourself at this time of night."

"I will, Daddy."

The kissing, the door opening, the descending the stairs, the car pulling out of the lot across the street, the locking of the door; all passed within minutes. Alone in the apartment now, Lila got settled in the front room to wait for her father's return. She wouldn't be able to sleep until he did.

*Hmm, I could call Edward... no, it's too late for that tonight. I'll call him tomorrow.*

Instead, since she had been doing so before Olga's visit anyway, she started re-reading the Chronicles of Narnia. And friends, there are worse ways to spend your time.

================================================================

Saturday, 9:07 A.M.

*riiiiiing*

*riiiiiing*

*riiiiiing*

*click*

"Heh, heh, heh, hello?"

"Hello, Edward."

"Oh, hi Lila."

"Edward, do you have a moment?"

"Uh, sure. This isn't about Nadine, is it?"

"What?"

"She's a good friend, kind of like a cousin. And I do keep her insects supplied with nougats."

"Edward, I wasn't even thinking about Nadine."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Can I say what I was going to say now?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Good, I'll come right to the point. Did you know that Olga plans to confront her parents today?"

"Well, I didn't know it was today that she was going to do it, but this is what we've been planning for, right?"

"Right, but Olga was very upset."

"I thought you were whipping her into shape?"

"I have been, and I think I took care of the reservations she was having. But she was still worried, and it got me to thinking."

"About?"

"Edward, be honest with me."

"Always."

"Just what kind of risk are we running here?"

"Lila, you knew at the start what the odds were."

"The odds, but not the stakes."

"Oh, you want the bottom line."

"Yes, the bottom line. Give me the bottom line, Edward."

"All right. Do you ever watch those science fiction shows?"

"What does that have to do with anything?!?"

"I'm trying to make a point here. Sometimes in those outer space scenarios and such they deal with antimatter; maybe you've heard of it."

"Just because I grew up around Amish doesn't mean I've been THAT sheltered."

"Sorry."

"Edward, are you saying that it's that dangerous?"

"It always is when you're playing with people's lives."

"Playing with people's lives?!?"

"That's what I said; I said it before, and I'm saying it now. There's no getting around it; we are playing with people's lives, and we have to play to win."

"Are you saying this is a game?"

"Yes, and a deadly game, Lila."

"Edward, don't say that!"

"If I don't it won't change the facts. Lila, you asked me to give you the bottom line, so here it is. What we're doing, what Olga's about to do because of us, because of me... it could either stop the destruction of the Pataki family, or..."

"Or?"

"Or it could accelerate it, maybe complete it."

"You, you're saying that... do you realize what you're saying?!?"

"Yes. There's a very good chance that this could destroy the family. By this time tomorrow, the Patakis could be in ruins, like a tv show pulled before it even sees the light of day."

"Would you stop talking in terms of television and sports?!"

"Sorry."

silence

"Lila?"

"I'm here, I'm just trying to think."

"A way out?"

"Yes."

"The three of us have been trying to come up with an alternative all summer; it's a bit late now. Although if you can come up with something..."

"I can't, it's just... Oh, Edward! Isn't there anything I can do?"

"Well... you pray, right?"

"What? Well, yes of course. I am a God-fearing woman, er, girl." She smiled as she said this, hoping Brainy would get the hint.

He did. "Eh, heh, well, seriously, Lila. If you ever prayed before, pray today. This operation will need all the help it can get, including help not of this earth."

"Oh dear. It doesn't seem like enough."

"From what I hear it never does."

"And what will you be doing?"

"Worrying; right now that's the only thing I can do. The ball's in Olga's court now, and I hope she pulls it off for all of our sakes including mine."

"Yours? You have a personal stake in this, I mean, beyond what we already know?"

"Lila, if this doesn't work, if Helga and her family are destroyed because of this; it will be all my fault. I don't know how I'll be able to live with myself if that happens."

"I wish you wouldn't put it like that; you're the second person in as many days to even imply, well, you know."

"Olga talked of suicide too?"

"In a way, sort of... It frightens me when people talk of such things."

"I'm sorry."

================================================================

3:57 P.M.

The Pataki brownstone. Olga is looking for her sister. She finds her, next to the phone at the foot of the stairs.

"Helga?"

Caught by surprise, Helga reacts. "Olga, do you mind? I'm trying to make a phone call here!"

"Sorry if I disturbed you."

The summer had been one surprise after another, at least as far as her big sister was concerned; what was one more. But this was one surprise too many. Helga found herself asking of Olga one of the last questions she thought she would ask.

"Olga, are you all right?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been acting weird all summer, like you actually care about me."

"I always have cared about you, Helga; I'm sorry that I've never shown it." She paused. "Sometimes I wonder what went wrong between us, what more I could have done."

Helga couldn't decide if she was shocked at how Olga was behaving, or just being in a 'whatever' frame of mind. But she decided to keep showing her tough side. "Olga, did you spook me just to apologize, or was there another reason?"

Olga again fought the urge to tear up; she could be tough too, she was finding. "Actually, I was looking for my old Shakespeare book from college; have you seen it?"

Helga sweated a little over that, knowing that the book in question was on the top floor of a certain boarding house. "Um, no."

"Oh well; I can pull what I need from it off of the internet I suppose. Oh, there was something else..."

"What?"

"Well, you know that things have been louder than usual around here?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'm afraid it's going to come to a head tonight; you might not want to come downstairs."

"Thanks for the heads-up. Now if that's all, I still have that call to make?"

Desperately trying to stay in her Lady MacBeth character, Olga closed her eyes. With a nod, she acknowledged the termination of the conversation with her sister. Then she ascended the stairs.

Alone again, Helga returned to the phone call.

*riiiinng*

*riiiinng*

*riiinng*

*click* "Hello?"

"Yo, Pheebs?"

"Hello, Helga."

"So how ya doin'?"

"Well, actually, things have been better around here than they are today."

"Oh?"

"Yes, that cold I had Sunday? Now my parents have it."

"Aww!"

"I'm glad you're being so sympathetic."

"It's not that, well it is, but..."

"But?"

"I was about to ask to stay the night at your place. You know how things have been loud this summer around here?"

"Yes?"

"Olga just tipped me off, tonight's gonna be one of those nights."

"Oh dear. I'd like to help but you really do not want to be here tonight. It could expose you to infection, and after the last cold you had-"

"What last cold?"

"You remember, it was almost the last day of school. You had to stay home that day, even did some vomitting from what you told me."

"Oh yeah. Yeah, I guess I wouldn't want to put myself through that again anytime soon. Guess I'll be watching tv tonight, then."

"That set in your room that Olga got you for your birthday?"

"Yeah. Don't tell her, but I've actually been getting some good out of it. Did I tell you it includes a headphone jack?"

"No you didn't."

"Yeah. Won't be hearing anything tonight but Court TV or, well, I'll find something."

"I'm sure."

"So, how many more group sessions you got?"

"One, next week."

"You're not getting too tight with Brainy and Lila, are you?"

"Why no, no not at all. Why do you ask?"

"Just making sure. They're not the kind of people you wanna hang out with, know what I mean? I mean Brainy's just weird and, well, you know about Lila."

"Um, yes... wait a minute."

For a minute Helga heard faint voices, one of them Phoebe's. When the minute was over...

"Sorry about that."

"Hey, it's all right. That cold laying out your folks, right?"

"Right. I'm sorry, I'll have to leave now."

"No problem. You just take care of things there and I'll talk to you later."

"Right. Talk to you later."

8:38 P.M.

Olga's room: a testament of the grandeur to which royalty entitles one. In this case, Olga Pataki, who had always been treated like royalty. Nowadays it would have disgusted her had she allowed herself to think about it. But right now her mind was not on that, not by any means.

Instead, it was on her sister, her family, what she must do, the part she must soon play. In her Morris chair, Olga was sitting, concentrating, meditating, call it what you will. It was her unique method of psyching herself up for a part. A bit unorthodox, but it had always worked for her. And good thing; tonight, she would be playing the part of a lifetime.

Clutching in one hand a printout from a Shakespeare website, she was sitting crosslegged, arms folded, eyes closed. And she was chanting.

"I am Lady MacBeth... I am Olga Pataki... I am Lady MacBeth... I am Olga Pataki... I am Lady MacBeth, speaking through Olga Pataki... The Lady is taking possession... She will speak through me... She is me, and I am her... It is coming... It is coming... It is done."

Her eyes opened. Cold, emotionless eyes which betrayed nothing of the person inside. Once again, Olga had become her part.

Arms and legs unfolding, she stood. The printout fell from her hand onto the ornate rug; she didn't notice.

Stretching her left hand out in front of her face, she borrowed from her character's husband.

"Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?"

With the same hand, she grabbed the finished videotape she and Lila had made off of the end table which was between the Morris chair and the queen sized bed.

"Come, let me clutch thee."

She then willed that hand toward her side, the tape still securely in her grasp. Firm, resolute, her purpose set, she then turned to walk toward the door.

Next to the door, she stopped, her gaze falling on her faux fireplace. For a moment, she was lost, staring at the ornamental crown of pretentiousness.

Shaking herself out of her momentary funk, she reestablished her resolve, and opened the door. As she passed the threshold, she continued to quote from the Scottish play:

"I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.

Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell

That summons thee to heaven or to hell."

A hallway away, the younger Pataki was flaking out on her bed, reading her Archie comics.

She heard a door close across the way, and checked her clock.

"Hmm. Well, Olga said there'd be fireworks tonight; guess they'll start any time now... Better get ready."

So saying, she collected her comics and made her way to the edge of her bed. Reaching it, she stood, and then turned around and ducked back down. Stashing her comics in their box under the bed, with the same effort she withdrew the TV Olga had gotten her for her birthday.

All right, so technically it was the day after her birthday, it was the thought that counts as the saying goes. And it certainly beat the presents her older sister had proferred on previous birthdays; some years she had completely forgotten.

But not this year; this year big sister had gone all out, getting a top-of-the-line portable from TV & Video Warehouse, plus peripherals from Video Hut. Color screen, cable or satellite ready, ports for a VCR or DVD player or whatever, yes, even a headphone jack so she could watch and listen without disturbing anyone else.

"Not that anyone else would hear tonight, not if Olga was right." went through Helga's head as she reached for the cable outlet and then screwed it into the appropriate port. Reaching for the headphones next, she plugged them in. Then it was just a matter of turning the set on and turning the channels until she reached her favorite channel.

"Ah, Court TV. Hey, Homicide!" She settled down onto her bed, the set securely balanced on top of her stomach.

*Not everything is about race, and not everything is directed at you!*

"Whoo, the first episode! That's telling him, Felton. *sigh* Too bad you're gonna get blown away before you and Russert can..."

9:00 P.M.

In her room, Lila notices the time. She knows.

In front of her bed, she kneels, and continues a tradition that had been ingrained in her since before she could remember. She clasped her hands and bowed her head.

"It's me again..."

================================================================

And so another chapter finally comes to its conclusion. Folks, the next chapter will be in-TENSE! You'll be blown away. And I promise that I won't take nearly as long next time.

Anyone who's not technically inclined can skip this paragraph. The thing of it is, this computer's running out of memory. So I'm downloading files onto disk and deleting them; already done it with my southern gospel stuff. The thing is, I do my fics on MS Works. I then save them as text files so that I can send them to this depository of fanfiction. But when I try to save these fics to disk I find that they come up again in Notepad. I don't like Notepad, all the side-scrolling. So what do I do? Could I save them into Word or Wordpad and still send them to ff.n? Would they really be affected if I didn't? Someone advise me, please! Thank you.

Folks, please let me know what y'all think. The usual read & review stuff. I'm Nftnat, on e-mail I'm Nftnat@aol.com , and on IM I'm Nftnat . Thanks and cy'all.