Part VII: The Long Night

"You can cage a tiger but you're never sure he's broken. Men are easier."

--Charles Bukowski, Notes Of A Dirty Old Man

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Several days later, Helga's precious recording arrived in a non-descript package. Arnold had never gotten around to sending anything to the girl. No doubt he would have further explaining to do, to say nothing of the party incident which remained in desperate need of clearing up. It wasn't that he hadn't tried to send her a heartfelt message, he just couldn't seem to get anything out. His conscience was really starting a row with him over the whole Lila affair. And much as he wanted to tell Helga the truth, she deserved a bit better than to receive news like this in such an impersonal manner. "Hi, Helga. How was your Christmas. Oh, by the way, while you've been gone, I took the opportunity to make out with Lila. Hope you don't mind." Somehow, that just didn't have the right ring to it. This was part of a seemingly eternal paradox he and Helga always shared. At her own request, they always kept each other at arm's length. Helga was trying to lead a dual life. She wanted to play the part of his girlfriend without submitting to any of the responsibilities such relationship innately required. She wanted everything to be a secret, for no one to know of their involvement. The very idea was ridiculous. The primary reason he had indulged her this far stemmed from the knowledge that announcing to the world that he and Helga were an item would only invite an endless array of teasing and mockery. The only benefit to the entire fiasco would be that Arnold would in all likelihood become something of a legend as the bravest boy in all of P.S. 118. After all, Helga Pataki was not the kind of girl one simply walked up to and asked for a date. Unless of course one was attempting to commit suicide, in which case it was an excellent method of accomplishing one's goal. Helga, of course, never really had to defend herself from unwanted advances from dubious admirers. She wasn't pretty by any means, at least, not on the surface. It was only when you got to know her, the real Helga, that the butterfly inside the girl would begin to peek out from the cocoon. Arnold couldn't deny that when she was stretched out on the couch with her head in his lap, there was something undeniably beautiful about the girl. Her shields would lower, and there would be a look in her eyes that was equally filled with both longing and content. She always felt surprisingly soft and slight on those nights, not at all like the image she was perpetually projecting to the rest of the world. There was something magical about the way she carried herself, perhaps that was the appeal he had found in her. Helga was so strong yet so vulnerable. He often felt like a fool for admitting it, but she had a way of making his heart go out to her. There was a physical aspect as well. When he could coax her into letting her hair down, he always felt rewarded. It was clean and smooth, one of her uniquely feminine features. And when she slept. . .well, Helga had a habit of snoring inexorably and leaving a puddle of drool on her pillow when she slept. It really wasn't very ladylike. But he didn't mind. It was the little things that had caused him to give into her in the first place. There was little point in resisting Helga. She had made it very clear that he belonged to her, and disagreement on this point had a tendency to cause bad things to happen in his life. The proof, it seemed, was in her actions. Secret messages she would send to him through trusted couriers like Phoebe while in school. Playground insults that seemed to challenge him to find a better girl if he had a problem with them. Stares she would give him across the dining room table on Saturday nights. Spitballs plastering the back of his head during a particularly boring math class. And perhaps most curiously, a strange brand of kiss that she gave, grabbing his hand and running his fingers along her lips, moistening them before pressing the digits against his own lips. It had been well over a year since they had kissed in the more traditional sense, but he had long been afraid of going too fast, especially with a girl like Helga., who was already emotionally invested in him. He didn't want to risk her getting hurt, or worse, for Helga to feel that that he had been using her. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than him, especially given his recent actions. Goodness knew that Helga had been through enough in her life. There were problems that Helga found herself continually confronted with; too many of them were of her own creation. But Helga, much like him, was still in the process of becoming herself. She still had some learning, exploring, and evolving to do. And Arnold still held out hope that with the proper guidance, Helga would learn to open herself up to life's simple pleasures.

"I wonder what you're thinking about tonight, Helga." Arnold sighed as he changed into his pajamas. Ever since the party, he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't thinking about her.

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"It is better to suffer wrong than to do it, and happier to be sometimes cheated than not to trust."

--Samuel Johnson

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"This time of year can be hardest when you're a kid. They say that Christmas night is the saddest night of the entire kid year. Why? Because the next Christmas will never be farther away than it is now. It's like the end of an era. All the scheming and plotting I do to get the gifts that I want, and afterwards, the whole thing is over and I'm left wondering what the whole point was. It might as well never have even happened. At least, that's what I've felt all week. What's the point of Christmas if I can't spend it with the one person I truly care about? There isn't any point, that's what. I hate it. I hate being without you. Call it an addiction if you will, but I swear that I'm becoming sick. It's withdrawal, I tell you! I'm not used to being without you; having to endure an entire week without even being able to send a spitball your way. How else am I supposed to express myself? This oral dictation crap just isn't cutting it. It's no substitute for the real thing. And I can't function like this. And I don't even care that this is the last night I have to stay here. This night could kill me, you hear? Kill me! I wasn't made to suffer like this! I never wanted to know this kind of heartache. How am I ever going to survive the coming years if one week has defeated me so thoroughly? Have I been reduced so easily? Perhaps it's true. Consider the power you've gained over me. All the things I've been told that I can do or be since I was in the fourth grade, and the only thing I care about is being with you. All I want is to stand by your side and absorb all that I can. The rest can fall into place as it may. I want to learn how to be the girl we both wish that I could be. And even though I know that I could do some truly great things in life, all of them would carry me farther away from you. I can't think of any reason why either of us should be made to go through something like that. I don't want to do anything that might set me on a path apart from yours. I have spent the better part of my life doing everything in my power to force out paths to intersect again and again. But the two of us are so fundamentally different in thought, in nature. Our ability to coexist may not show itself in this lifetime despite my best efforts. And so I have extended my plea unto you. Lift me up when I am falling. Pay no attention to any protest that I may make. I do need a prince to save me from the demons of my own creation. I'm weaker than I look. I haven't done a very stellar job at keeping up my end of our cold bargain. How I wish that I could point to one specific thing that might be done to better both myself and our compatibility. But I'm afraid that I simply must accept the fact that our fates will be what they will be. On my own, I am incapable of charge and unwilling to risk it. I must trust to your talents, Arnold. Take hold of my better half and don't let go. Bring me kicking and screaming into the light. Do what you must to save me, and perhaps there may still be a chance for us to meet in the middle."

I flip the recorder off, drumming my fingers against the side of the chair and wondering where this torrent of emotions could be coming from. It's bad enough that I can fill endless volumes of books with my angst, now I'm providing it to the world in stereo. How can I dump all of this stuff on him? Pfft, some Christmas present. Merry Christmas, Arnold. Have a heaping helping of angst and misery, from me to you. I put a lot of effort into it. Not that I don't give you plenty of this crap every single day. I wonder, Arnold, if I should ever tell you the truth about a Christmas miracle I managed as my gift to you two years ago. It might be a bit tacky to reveal the truth beyond a gift like that, but how I know that way your face would light up when you realize how I came through for you without even being asked. That the me you've been dreaming about each night since we began this complication exists. The Helga Pataki you've always believed in. I still retain the hope that I will learn how to be that person every day. Be patient with me, Arnold. If God is still up there, I'm betting that he isn't finished with me yet.

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Part VIII: Blame It On Yourself

"Through the streets and down the hill.
I stared out the window.
Underneath I started to feel
Something had finally let go.
Round the corner and to the end.
I put my feet on the pavement.
And for a moment I'm back again
Remembering what you once meant.

I wonder how it's gonna feel
To mean nothing more to anyone.


Blame it on, blame it on yourself.
Blame it on, blame it on yourself."

--Ivy

"Blame It On Yourself"

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Gerald sat in his best friend's bedroom, looking out over the checkerboard and the moves now available to him. There were too many openings, too many opportunities to back Arnold into a corner. Clearly, the boy's concentration was elsewhere. "Hey Arnold!"

"Huh?" The blonde boy started, confused.

"You're not in the game. What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Gerald. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"About Lila?" Gerald grinned, suspecting a juicy story from the other night.

"Not exactly. I mean, she's a factor, but not the entire thing."

"Okay, so what's it all about?"

"It's complicated." Arnold sighed.

"So uncomplicate it." Gerald shrugged.

"It's not that simple. It's a girl problem."

"With Lila?"

"Not exactly." Arnold's shoulders dropped.

"You keep saying that, but what does it mean?" Gerald persisted.

"Gerald, I have obligations that I haven't told you about yet."

"Obligations? What obligations?"

"Well, there's this girl, and-" Arnold's confession was interrupted by a knock at his bedroom door.

"Hey, Short Man! Your little friend is here to see you!" Phil's voice echoed off the walls of the hallway.

Gerald cocked an eyebrow. "You expecting company?"

"No. . .wait, what day is this?" Arnold asked in a slight panic.

"The 26th."

"Oh shoot! I forgot!"

"Arnold, you stupid Football Head!" Helga's voice seemed to cut straight through the door and wrap Arnold in her clutches like a Thanksgiving turkey. "I told you not to let these floors get all dirty! Look at this mess! There's dirt and crumbs everywhere! I'll be at this for hours come Saturday!"

"What's she talking about, Arnold?" Gerald asked. "She makes it out like it's her job or something."

Arnold hopped out of his chair to receive his guest. "Actually, it is."

"Say what!" Gerald's eyes widened.

"I'm sorry, Gerald. It's-"

"I know, I know. Complicated."

"That's putting it mildly." Arnold states as he opened the door to allow his quasi-girlfriend entrance. "Hi, Helga. How was your Christmas?"

"Lousy, but what else is new? And I noticed that our mailbox was conspicuously devoid of a package for me this morning. I came here hoping that you perhaps forgot to mail the tapes. Tell me you forgot, Arnold." Helga's smile seemed very dangerous.

"Sorry, Helga. I meant to, but some stuff came up. And there's something I have to tell you."

"I'm hoping it's a darn good reason why we're going to keep Simmons waiting with this project."

"It's a good reason."

"And probably complicated." Gerald rolled his eyes. "Look, I'll let the two of you sort this one out. Give me a call later, Arnold."

"I will." The blonde boy responded, giving the special handshake to his best friend. Gerald only nodded in Helga's direction before leaving.

"So. . ." Arnold began, trailing off into nothing as he cleared the checkerboard.

"Hmpf." Helga gave him the cold shoulder. "Thanks for thinking about me while I was gone."

"I did think about you. A lot. It's what I wanted to talk about."

"Fine. We're talking." Helga said, removing her purple coat and tossing it onto a chair.

Arnold gave the girl an awkward hug, which Helga wasn't expecting. "What are you doing, Hair Boy?"

"I missed you. A lot."

"Oh really?" Something inside of Helga began to glow.

"Really."

"Well, I'm glad to see that absence has made your heart grow fonder." Helga smiled, accepting the affection.

"There's plenty more where that came from." Arnold grinned. Helga nearly melted.

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I can't believe this. I just can't believe this. Arnold missed me. Me! Helga G. Pataki! The girl of his screams! The one who has caused him such endless frustration for years on end! He missed me! Oh, my sweet angel of love, if only you knew what was missing from my life while I was away. I have awaited this moment for my entire life. And now it's here! "Arnold, I. . ."

"Come on. One Christmas kiss." Arnold looks up at me. Why is his voice so hesitant? He's always been much more confident than me. Comes with the upbringing you receive, or so I've always thought.

"Arnold, no!" Why the heck am I pushing him away? This isn't how I should react, is it?

"What's wrong?" Arnold asks. Yeah, that's what I'd like to know myself.

"I like you, Arnold, but I'm not cheap." Of course! The romance! How could I have forgotten the romance! I knew there had to be an easy explanation. Not that there usually is where I'm concerned. "Maybe you hadn't noticed, but just because I'm different than other girls doesn't mean that I don't want a little romance."

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to shake up the routine a little."

"It's okay. So what's so important, bucko?" I ask him. Arnold eyes are narrowing. That can't be a good sign.

"This is big news, Helga. But. . .I'm afraid that it's good news wrapped inside of bad." Okay, I don't like the sound of that. I really don't like the sound of that. And I tell him so.

"I don't like the sound of this already." I protest.

"Helga. . ." The way he always twines our fingers whenever he takes my hand always gets to me. He knows all my weaknesses, curse him for being so thorough. When he looks at me this time with those eyes of wonder, I find myself unable to disappoint him. I lower my head and press my lips to his own, partaking in a kiss that is much different than any we have shared in the past. Even our last one, back on the roof of the hospital, was different. Something has changed. But if feels like a good change. It feels as though there's more of him in this kiss than there has been in all the others we've shared. He's really here! Oh, Arnold. . .do you finally understand this connection that has always been between us? Are you finally ready to take the next step; to weave the next story in the tapestry that will be our lives?

There are not enough words to describe my disappointment that he allowed that kiss to end. It should have been an eternal playground for us to explore. No matter how nice, they're always entirely too short. I've really got to do something about that. "Yes, Arnold?"

"I went to Rhonda's Christmas party and, well. . .Helga, I kissed Lila." Somewhere inside of my head I could hear my heart literally shatter into fifteen million pieces. He kissed Lila. He kissed Lila? HE KISSED LILA! The bane of my very existence, my sworn enemy in love!

"YOU KISSED LILA!" I explode in his general direction, pushing him away from me and practically throwing him across the room. "You have some nerve, begging me for my kiss! How dare you coerce me into touching lips that have her taint on them!"

"I'm telling you this for a reason!"

"Oh, why, so you can rub in how much more you like her than you do me?" I spit at him.

"No, its-" A ringing phone cuts us both off. Damn these interruptions! I grab it, wanting to tell off who should dare come between me and my vengeance.

"What?" I shout into the receiver. What's left of my will breaks into nothingness when I hear the voice on the other end. "Oh. Hello, Lila. No, he's right here. What? Yeah, that's right. I'm Arnold's secretary. But don't worry. I won't be getting in your way any longer." I throw the phone in Arnold's general direction. How could I have been such a fool. Replaced by the woman he's always wanted. I don't know if I'm more angry at him, or at myself for not seeing it coming. I was a fool to think I could compete even for a second.

Arnold grabs the phone. "I can't talk now, Lila. I'm sorry." To my moderate surprise, he hangs up on Little Miss Perfect. "Helga, this isn't what you think."

"Save it. I hope you two are very happy together." I thrust the door open and walk out without even looking at him. Arnold's still calling after me. He always was persistent.

"I'm not getting together with Lila!" That tears it. The last thing I wanted him to see was the sight of me crying. But if that's what he wants, that's what he'll get. I never could say no to him. Why ruin the streak? I make no effort to hide the tears streaming down my face as I turn to look at him one last time, lips quivering in shock and hurt.

"Helga, I want to be with you!" Arnold protests. So playing games with my heart is supposed to make me believe that? I can't believe I actually thought all those wonderful things about you. I should've known better.

"Freak you!" I yell as loud as I can before taking off in a run. I don't bother to look behind me as I leap down the flight of stars and dash out the front door. Even if Arnold gives chase, he'll never catch me. My legs are too long, and I can cover more distance. And right now, I can't stand to be seen by anyone, least of all him. I've let him see me weak too many times already. Never again. I run through allies and sparsely populated streets, paying no attention to my direction. The devil take me for all I care.

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Author's Notes

Okay, another good week. It's only Friday night and already I'm done with my chapter. Now I can relax over this holiday weekend! I've got my review responses done too, I just have to send them out. It feels good to be caught up on everything. My Christmas was nice, but I hope everyone else's was as well. I'm also glad that I found the time to go in and write that Ginger column for IG after all. It feels good to get that kind of accomplishment done.

So, here we are. It's a brand new year. Or at least, it will be by the time you're reading this. Where do they all go? Each year seems to go faster than the last, with no signs of slowing down. You know, I could write more, but maybe I'll save this topic for a proper Ginger column when I get back to IG in January. No need to rehash stuff twice.

I can see two reviews that I need to attend to here, so I'll do my best to finish those up.

Hello once more, Acosta perez jose Ramiro. I'm glad that you find my dialogue agreeable. And I did put quite a bit of work into the scenes between Arnold and Lila. Those aren't typical in many fanfics. I also wanted to incorporate Lila without making her a villain. She is not trying to take Arnold away from Helga. In fact, like everyone else save perhaps Phoebe, Lila isn't even aware that there's even a pseudo-relationship between the two. She would know Helga's feelings from the episode "School Play," but considering that they're now in the sixth grade, I don't feel it's unfair to assume that the statute of limitations has run out on those. Helga has had a lot of time to declare her intentions. Arnold and Phoebe are two people that would seemingly have much in common to me, so I like to do conversations between them sometimes. They are fairly deep, and I think they would have much to talk about. Look for some of this very same Arnold/Phoebe interaction in later installments of "Instant Gratification." Thanks for reviewing and I hope that the new chapter is too your liking.

And this, of course, brings me to Laurel. You're another one of the faithful, week after week. Thank you for being so loyal like many others. I'm sorry for any heartache that the story may cause you. Sometimes it's necessary to write this kind of sad, heavy stuff for the good of both the plot and the characters. As for the interspersing of Helga's message with the conversation between Arnold and Lila, I'd been planning that for a long, long time. If this were animated, then what you saw was exactly how I would envision things as the director. It actually loses something without the animation, I feel, but I guess I can't have everything. I never promised you a happy ending. You'll just have to keep reading and see how this plays out. You are very much welcome for the Christmas gift and the Christmas bonus. I like to be the author that keeps on giving! I'll know soon enough if my wishes come true. I hope that yours do as well. Thanks again for being my "loyal lackey" as you so cleverly put it.

Okay, that takes care of that. You know, the funny thing is that I really don't know what else to say this time out. I'm a little saddened that this story hasn't been as popular as expected, but perhaps it's my own fault for wanting to wait and do a Christmas story. I think I've spoiled people so much with IG that returning to the times of TSH is no longer an exciting proposition for a lot of people. As such, it is increasingly likely that this story will be my last one in the series. Everything changes eventually. I suppose the season for TSH has finally run out. But that's okay, I still have a great chapter left to go which I think will earn this story a fond place in the memory of my readers. I just hope you'll all stick around for the conclusion. I'd also like to wish everyone a happy, healthy, and prosperous new year. It's still exciting to be a part of this fandom, and I feel that it is an honor and a privilege to be regarded so well among it. So happy new year, everyone, to you and yours.

Lord Malachite

1/2/06

3:31AM, EST

E-mail: ranger(underscore)writer(at)yahoo(dot)com

AIM: Asukaphile26