Chapter Six

Helga wandered the halls of the boarding house that night mumbling to herself when she stumbled upon a room she hadn't noticed before. The sign on the door read, "KEEP OUT."

"Hey Arnoldo!" she called up the stairs to his room, and he came out to see what she wanted. "Who stays in here? All your dumb friends came out of those rooms, down the hall."

"Oh, that's Mr. Smith, the mysterious boarder. He pays extra, so he gets to have his food specially delivered to him, and he never lets anyone see his room. Once Gerald and I heard there was a package for Mr. Smith, and we drove ourselves crazy to find out what was inside it. We found out it was just a picture of us with the words, 'My Family,' written on it. I've never seen his face."

"Mr...Smith?"

Arnold nodded and left. Mr...Smith. Somehow that name rang a bell. "There are a lot of Smiths in the world," Helga muttered to herself, but she couldn't resist. She attempted to turn the doorknob, but, before she could even discover it was locked, a sound like a siren wailed deafeningly.

"What's that noise?" Mrs. Vitello groaned from down the street.

"I can hardly wrap the meat!" Mr. Green shouted angrily.

Helga, with her hands on her ears, shot off down the hallway.

"Helga, what did you do?" Arnold tried to yell over the noise. "Did you open Mr. Smith's door?"

"Well, I tried, Football Head, but--"

The noise died off and everyone sighed with relief and unplugged their ears. "Helga, it's no use. You're not going to find anything out about Mr. Smith. Gerald and I already tried that." There was irritation in his tone.

"But Arnold--" she insisted.

"No, Helga. Cut it out, ok? You're only staying here for a few days and then you'll be gone...for good. I couldn't figure out who he is; there is no way you can. And ever since you got here all you've been doing is insulting my grandma's food, screaming at my pig, and saying how stupid I was. All you ever do is make people mad and cause trouble. You'll never do anything right and the only person you care about is yourself!" Then he slammed his bedroom door in her face and immediately felt terrible for what he'd said.

But Helga was feeling worse. Tears welled in her eyes and she struggled to hold them back. She charged into her bedroom and threw herself on her bed. "Oh, buck up, Helga!" she scolded herself, feeling foolish. "No football head's going to make a Pataki break out in tears." She had pushed Arnold to meet his bad side, something barely anyone could ever do. And suddenly she wished she had just been willing to move.

Later that night Arnold approached Helga's room and knocked on the door. Then he slowly opened it. "...Helga?" he said when he saw her sitting on her bed fingering with a pen. "Um...about earlier, look, I went overboard. I didn't really mean all those things I said about you...I just...got mad. I'm sorry...really."

"No, Arnold, you were right. I am always trying to pick a fight with you...and everyone else. So...I'm sorry."

He blinked twice, stunned. But then he just smiled. "Truce?"

She sighed. "Fine, truce."

But little did they know, their adventures were just beginning.