Author's Notes: Hey guys! I'm here and I'm baaaaack! Here is the chapter 4 of the tale. I had a great learning experience from reading all the feedback you guys had given me. I really, really appreciated all of them! Thanks! Of course, I still accept all the good as well as the "not so good" feedback. I realized any mistakes and I'm correcting them starting in this chapter. I'm even improving my writing style. So, if you see a dramatic change, don't think that it's a different writer. It's still just me. ; )
Not only did I look at all your feedback, I even asked at the Writers Club at http/groups. how descriptive should a story really be. And I got my answer… "Describe as much as possible everything that affects the plot and the character without slowing down the pace of the story…"
Nah! Maybe some of you don't want to know all that story writing "technical mumbo-jumbo" above. You guys just want the story, right? Well, okay, here's chapter 4. It's not Helga's POV, but you can guess whose POV this is.
So I'm dedicating this chapter to all of you guys who reviewed and to those writers at the writers club at Yahoo, for lessons in writing.
Disclaimer: I do not own HA. I simply love it! Love it! Love it! I also love watching the movie too! ; )
- tst : )
Chapter 4: One Leading to Another
After I came home from class, I went straight into my room and hid Mr. Simmons' letter in one of the drawers in my bedside cabinet. I quickly glanced at the alarm clock that was on top of the cabinet and solidly marked another round circle on my nearby hanging calendar. Sitting squarely on the edge of my soft bed, I counted the total number of circles the calendar already had so far. A cool breeze blows from the window as I sadly sighed and I let my back fall flatly on the bed. I stared at the ceiling and let my mind wander … eighteen of them! I meant eighteen days. Almost three weeks… three long weeks since grandpa and grandma left.
Each and every time I circled another number on the calendar, I started worrying whether they'd be okay at that remote hospital. Each and every time after I encircled a new day, I took the family photo album and looked at their pictures. Today was no different. I stood up, took the photo album and sat on the bed again, opening its glossy pages and glancing at their memorable pictures. I sighed a sadder sigh this time. Missing them was really a big understatement.
I mean, when I'm lost in the dumps and have some problems, a few good and short talks with my grandpa and grandma would always steer me back on the road to cheerfulness. Their words of uplifting encouragement, their witty jokes, and their profound wisdom are all what I needed to soothe me from the trials of the day, no matter what they'd be.
But, it's really different story when they're not here, though. These feelings of being cold, alone, and without anyone else around, are somehow all getting to me day by day…little by little.
For these past few weeks, I really can't believe what had happened. Just think about it. Lila dumped me again, we even lost the football match, and so much more.
In these times kept wondering why everything is just wrong… err… I mean just not right. When was the last time that I've ever really been down for this long?
It came to a point that this "slump" even affected my studies. I haven't passed any kind of test at school since my grandpa and grandma left. Even Mr. Simmons noticed this and he asked me if anything's the matter. Probably he's concerned because there he knows that there will be another test next week Friday again. Unlike the previous ones, this is a very important test whose weight is even larger than those of the previous three tests combined, and I really have to pass this one.
As we talked earlier in the day, my conversation with Mr. Simmons went on smoothly. We got to converse on a lot of things - life, friends, school… you name it.
But when he got to my grades and to the failing letter that I should have given to Grandpa and Grandma, it made my mind flash back to what happened yesterday.
Before my grandparents left, they told me that they would be back around this time. Though three weeks seemed like an eternity for me, I was still optimistic that they'll be back.
But yesterday, I was in my bed looking at their pictures in our family photo album as always. I was in my room when I heard a loud knock at the door.
Yes! They're here! Gleams of joy quickly had spread all over me, like rays of sunlight spreading across the landscape at dawn. They're really here! My grandparents are back! And there I was, suddenly closing the pages of the album shut. I jumped to my feet, and I immediately tossed the album away, not even bothering whether it landed on the bed or on the floor.
I ran swiftly to the door with such eagerness to see my grandma and grandpa who were behind that door. I felt this irresistible urge to hug them on the second that I'll be able to catch a glimpse of their warm and comforting faces. I quickly opened the door with a wide smile on my face. But then my face suddenly turned to clouds of gloom when I realized that it wasn't my grandparents. I shook my head back into reality and stared at the person in front of me. It was just our mailman and he promptly gave me a letter in the mail.
After he left and I got back inside my room, I immediately proceeded to the study table beside my bed. I sat on the rotating chair that goes with the study table. With haste I tore the side of the envelope spilling out its contents and discovered that there was only one thing inside. It was a folded piece of paper with scribbles on them. I unfolded the paper and recognized the handwriting right away. It was my grandma's.
I began to read her letter.
Arnold,
Hello there! Is everything okay there? I hope so. How's school? I hope it's okay, too!
As for us, well, I have to admit that I couldn't really say the same. You see, every night, I've been worrying about your grandpa. During the first few days that we've got here, I slept at the hospital as your grandpa's operation was underway. But a few days later, the doctor here said that your grandpa had gotten some sort of "complications." I didn't really understand all that "doctor"-talk that he gave. But he just made the long story short – your grandpa's condition is… getting worse. From that time the doctor told me that, I couldn't really sleep. I just couldn't sleep so I just watched him by his own bed. I wanted to do something but I was hopeless to do anything. I am getting short naps every now and then, but I was getting more worried that something might happen to him.
I'm sorry that we couldn't come back this week. It now seems that because of your grandpa's illness, it will take longer than I thought.
I just really hope you're okay there. Hang in there, and we'll be back when everything's okay. I hope…
Good luck.
- Grandma
I read and reread the letter over and over, word for word, constantly wanting to convince myself that this is not for real. No! It couldn't be real! This can't be happening to them… to me. I examined the signature at the bottom part of the letter. I rubbed and studied the signature intently hoping that this letter was tampered with or something. But then I gave up denying, realizing that it's really Grandma's letter and it was indeed her handwriting.
I put down the letter and I placed it back inside the envelope. I closed my hand as I crumpled the envelope wrapping it tightly into a ball. Keeping my grip, I slowly stood up from my rotating chair and paced myself towards the nearest trashcan. With every once of my strength I dunked it into the trashcan with full force, relieving my sadness a bit. I felt a sudden desire to relieve myself of this sadness even more by kicking the whole trashcan. I decided against that though. Instead I just plumped myself on the rotating chair. I gave myself a merry-go-round whirl on my chair, scanning the walls of my room and stopping the chair when the study table was just in front of me. I laid my elbows on the tabletop and rested my face so deeply into my palms. I rubbed my eyes hard wiping any tears away.
All of those I mentioned took place yesterday. After all that, I finally decided that I didn't want my grandparents to have something else to worry about. So, I thought the best way was to just hang on, as Grandma said, and maybe these problems would just ease out.
Everything seemed okay after that, but when Mr. Simmons talked to me again and asked about the letter today, I was suddenly on the spot. I'm sure I was sweating the moment time he asked me.
It could have been a lot easier. I could have immediately gave a quick reply like, "Oh, well, I didn't give your letter to them, I'm really sorry."
But then I had a sudden thought. If Mr. Simmons knew all about it, he'll surely write to my grandparents personally and my grandparents will become much more worried about me and about school.
So, I had to do something… anything!
So in a way… I kind of… well… okay, okay… I admit it. I…err… kinda lied a bit. Okay, just a very, very small one, though.
But when I did, I began to have this strange sinking feeling in my stomach. I know it's not from something that I ate. I've been eating the same stuff for the past days. What is this? It's a feeling I've never felt before. This weakening feeling somehow shakes even the innermost foundations of my sturdy mind and my firm heart. It's too deep to be just mere sadness. It's too low to be just mere unhappiness. Eventually, I came to terms with what I'm experiencing. I think I know. Somehow, I know this. I've heard this from my peers. I've seen this from my friends. There's absolutely no other explanation. It has GOT to be. It HAS to be. It must be…
Guilt…
After that talk with Mr. Simmons, another week passed and I enjoyed those days as I usually do. Those weird guilt feelings of mine somehow died down during those days. I now realized that it seemed that I had gotten away from trouble so easily just by doing something like that, despite that guilt. Now I see why people would lie and make up stories. From what I know now it's so easy getting away from trouble doing this.
Eventually, it was Thursday once more, and tomorrow is the big test that Mr. Simmons was concerned of. That evening, I sat on the rotating chair by my study table and gathered the books and notes to read. I hoped that by passing the big test tomorrow, all of the things will be straightened out somehow and everything will be okay.
I studied hard into the cold and chilly night. Despite the coldness, I kept sweating and I began to have random doubts whether I could make it tomorrow. I studied the leafy pages of my books and notes closely, making sure that I'd still remember all that there is to know by tomorrow. Finally, after all that studying, I went straight to bed. In my sleep, I shut my eyes and grinned, rewarding myself for studying very well.
But sometime later in bed, I couldn't get a fitful rest. At first, I thought it was just because of the coldness of the air. But closing the windows and having a few thick blanket wrappings around me didn't help. Strange… I feel warm anyway but I still couldn't sleep. Is it the test? Maybe, but there's something else. I've always been so relaxed before a test. I slept well even on those nights that I have failed a test the day after. But somehow this night is different. I wondered why. I kept still on my bed in thought on why could be and… and…
Oh no…
I rose from my pillow and suddenly froze when I had that burst of insight. I see. I finally realized why I couldn't sleep tonight, but I didn't like the reason one bit. It's because of those weird feelings again. It's the guilt…my guilt… my previous feelings of guilt of lying to Mr. Simmons had returned to somehow haunt me once more.
I know I studied well enough on this big test, but I had new tinges of doubt whether I could make it in this test. I just got to pass the test. I just GOT to. If I don't, not only will I have another failing grade, but also Mr. Simmons and my grandparents will find out about everything.
Desperation suddenly crept under my skin deeper than the chills of the night and this desperate feeling began to crawl throughout every part in my body.
I did my very best to simply ignore this and just go to bed once more. Eventually, I was able to sleep that night but hardly, even though I laid my head so comfortably into my soft pillow. Even though I kept chanting these words over and over in my head, as if I was praying,
"I have to pass that test tomorrow! I have to pass that test tomorrow! I have to pass that test tomorrow…"
Tomorrow then came. It was test day. Afternoon… afternoon was the test. After the test follows another weekend of sheer relief outside of class.
That lunch, I was at a table together with Gerald.
"Are you ready for the big test, Arnold?" he asked me, while he was taking his lunch. I looked at him straight in his face. Looking at his eyes, he seemed calmer than I am today. Lucky for him; he really studied hard on this one.
"Yes I am, Gerald," I replied to him anyway trying to work up a faint smile, summoning every last ounce of confidence and optimism that I still have inside me, "This time, I'll make it a point to pass this test and end my string of problems lately."
"That's the spirit, Arnold!" he smiled, giving a sign of approval. Somehow, it helped me.
"Hey! Mr. Simmons said that!" I smiled a bit more.
Gerald smiled a little more too, "Really? But now that you mentioned about him, what happened to the letter he gave you, Arnold?"
"Well, I just placed it in the drawer by the alarm clock in my room," I admitted to Gerald, "I never really told him about it."
"Wait a minute, Arnold! Is that really okay, man?" he asked.
I didn't answer him right away. I kept on eating and so was Gerald. I wanted to make sure I made the right choice. But come to think of it, had I made the right choice? Did I? Did I?
Maybe I did. Yeah, I did make the right choice. I'm sure I did. I knew everything should go well, all according to plan. Hopefully everything will be okay later. Besides, I just heard the school bell ring and both of us hurried finishing the rest of our lunch.
"After I pass the big test this afternoon, it will be," I finally told him after I wiped my mouth with a napkin.
"Alright," Gerald approved as he laid down his napkin and stood up, feeling satisfied of a hearty meal, "Then good luck on the test!"
"Same to you Gerald!" I immediately stood up too and we made our secret handshake.
It was finally afternoon. Tension gripped the air as we were all in the classroom. All of the chairs are arranged orderly, with everyone in his or her usual seat including myself; all of us waiting for Mr. Simmons. He's going to hand out the test papers when he gets here. I still see Phoebe on my right side. She's smiled cheerfully and made glances to the blackboard, with her hands together on top of her school chair, like a model student. On her right, was Gerald, watching the door, and spinning his pencil away. I've noticed these past few weeks that they have been looking at each other too often… and there they go again! They stared at each other just right now, just for a brief moment. Then Phoebe's eyes shifted back towards the blackboard and Gerald's eyes were guided back towards the classroom door. Hmm, guess that they like each other pretty well.
Helga was just behind Phoebe, much to my own dismay. She had dark blue eyes and had long hair, arranged into several pigtails. Her hair had a blond shade close to mine and she had her ever-present pink bow crowning her head. It's hard to imagine that she's our bully. Yes she has the thick eyebrow, but I don't know. Wearing her frowning front, she kept repeatedly drumming her pencil on top of her school chair, and examining the floor. She would glance up to me but when our eyes met, she redirected her sight towards the floor again. I wonder how Phoebe gets along with her so well? Among everyone in the gang and in my class, it's Helga who really intrigued me because I could easily get along with everyone else. But I couldn't really get along with Helga well, despite all the school projects and assignments and other stuff we both had together. How does Phoebe do it?
But anyway, that's it for now. Now I go on to other stuff.
I felt a cold rush of wind as I saw one of the windows were open. I'm still trying to relieve my own jitters on this big test like everyone else. I tried Phoebe's idea. I concentrated my focus on the blackboard. The blackboard had absolutely nothing written on it so I briefly wondered what Phoebe was looking at. No help relieving my jitters…
I tried to spin my pencil around like Gerald to reduce my tension. I stumbled and dropped the pencil, realizing that I couldn't do something like that. No help either…
I then drummed my pencil away just like Helga. Somehow, still no help of the sort…
I stopped drumming and just laid my pencil on the tabletop. I held my hands tightly at the sides of my chair, one on each side. This finally calmed me down a bit and got a renewed surge of determination besides.
I should pass the test. I have to. I don't want my grandparents to worry about all the problems I have right now. Of course all these problems must stop somehow. I'm sure they can't just go on and on forever. I just want to end this slipping grade thing. I just want to enjoy my weekend. I just want to get this over with, so I could play baseball with the gang later without worries. I just want to…ouch!
Another spitball had just hit me. Who the heck did that?
I looked around and behind me. I didn't see anyone doing it, but for some reason though, when I saw Helga, she was looking at me closely with darting eyes.
"What?" she mockingly asked in her usual bully-mannered voice.
Sigh! That's Helga for you. Helga…that girl is just so annoying. How could anyone put up with her, anyway? I know I couldn't!
But before I could say anything to her, Mr. Simmons finally came and started giving out the test papers.
Once I hurriedly grabbed mine, I scanned the smooth and fresh pages. The test was a 50-question thing. This is the usual "multiple-choice-abcd" thing. All I needed was to get more correct answers than wrong ones and everything is okay.
This is the moment of truth… the time that I have to make sure I pass. I must pass the test, I must pass the test, I must pass this test, I must…
"Alright, pencils up," Mr. Simmons commanded to us.
We all did so, and I could feel the sweat escaping the pores of my hand as I held my own pencil up. I felt an even colder rush of wind from the open window, making my hair stand on end for a second. My hand was so jittery I could barely keep it still. I looked at everyone else. Phoebe, Gerald, Helga, and everyone else seemed to get the hang of this. They were all as still as a statue. But finally I was able master their technique and I felt increased confidence, as I'm certain I'll pass this big test.
"Okay," Mr. Simmons smiled, "Then good luck on the test. You may start." Alright, here we go…
Okay. I immediately wrote my name on the test paper. I looked at the questions, got to work, and started answering. Everyone else did too. What's the answer to question # 1? Ahh, I know. What's the answer to question # 2? Ah, I know that also. Let's see. We go to the next 3 questions. I know the answers to them too. Hmm, so far, so good. How about question # 6. Okay.
This continued on for a couple of more questions. I just breezed through some of them making sure I got them correct.
I was then at question #10. Hmm, is that an "a" or a "b"? Skip that one. Next question, is that a "c" or a "d"? I looked at the next questions after that. My face began to sweat after I started to realize that I couldn't answer any of the rest. Just when I thought I got the answer, many other thoughts crossed my mind making me doubt my answer.
Alright, Arnold. What to do, what to do? You're getting too jittery. Relax, Arnold. Maybe you should stop for awhile, clear your head, and start thinking of other things?
Yeah, that's it, Arnold. Keep your mind off for awhile. Change topic time.
Hmm, topic, hmm… I wonder who was throwing spitballs at me all this time? Each and everyday, somebody's giving me the spitball routine. I suspect that it's Helga. Who else would pull a prank on me like that? She's the only one who would actually dare do that. Now where on the floor is that spitball?
I searched here and there for that spitball. I looked under my seat. I looked at the aisles. It's just got to be at the floor somewhere. Now where could it be? But then… Oops!
As I was searching for the spitball, I somehow got a glimpse of Phoebe's test paper on her table. I accidentally glanced at it as I was looking for the spitball. Sigh! Lucky, Phoebe! I'm sure she studied well and would have all of the right answers to the test.
Well, it was an accident that I saw Phoebe's test paper. No kidding! I was just looking for that spitball and then… I somehow got a peek of it.
No. I never really intended to look at it.
Of course I won't look at it again. Not a chance, will I do that again!
Besides, if I got caught with this, I would never live it down. My grandparents would never live it down, either.
On the other hand, if I wouldn't do this, looking at 30 or more questions that I still have to answer, I might not pass this test and then Mr. Simmons might ask about the letter one more time. But if I would do this, he might find out about it sooner or later. But if I didn't do this, I might not pass and he would personally write my grandparents. But if I would do this…
I pressed my palms hard into the sides of my shaking head. Oooh, it hurts. My head hurts.
I shook my head rapidly. I'm confused. I'm just so confused! What should I do? What should I do?
I know! I'll continue answering. That's it! Good going, Arnold. It'll keep my mind off THAT one for awhile.
Okay, now we go to #15. What's the answer to question # 15? Huh?
What's the answer to question # 16? Oh, I don't know! My palms began to sweat.
What to do? What to do? What to do?
Think, Arnold, think. Come on, Arnold you can do it!
What's the answer to question # 17? Sheesh, I don't know that one either! How about, question #18? No! Even my face began to sweat too.
What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? Hmm, maybe I should…
"Five 'special' minutes left!"
OH NO! I didn't see the time! I got worried too much and I didn't know that there are only five minutes left! There's no way I can finish the test in time on my own now.
What should I do? What should I do? What should I do? Maybe I should…
No! Am I nuts? I'm NOT going to do that! No! Why should I do that? I'm not that kind of a person.
Question #19, do I know? No, I don't. The next one! I don't know that one too! Wait a minute! How could it be possible that I couldn't answer so many questions?
I DID study last night, right? I SHOULD know most of the answers. But then, don't tell me that I became so worried about this test and about my grandparents? That's probably the reason why I couldn't remember the lessons I studied, and…
"Four 'special' minutes left."
My palms and face became even sweatier than before as I heard this. My cold hands began to shake while I held and read the test paper. The wind is getting chillier by the second, or is it just me?
I must pass this test, I must pass this test! Time's running out! What could I do? A lot goes into passing this test. But I just became too worried that I couldn't seem to answer anyway. But is there any other way out of this? I couldn't seem to find any other way. So should I do it? Should I do it? I could see no other way, right?
Maybe I should do it. Besides, I really studied hard last night. Everything was doing great. It's just that somehow I couldn't remember them right now. Wait a minute! What am I saying? I shouldn't do it!
But wait! If I don't do this, I'll have to continue this and at least I'll avoid getting…
"Three 'special' minutes left."
Okay, okay, okay! THAT DOES IT!
I'll do it.
I have to do it.
Yes, I will.
I HAVE to do it!
I WILL do it!
I'll look at Phoebe's paper.
Yes, you heard me right. I'll LOOK at her paper.
I'll do this just once.
Yes, just this once, okay? Okay? OKAY?
Of course, I will make some errors on purpose so no one would suspect.
So, I intentionally spun my pencil and made a grin as I failed to spin it. My pencil landed just next to Phoebe's seat and as I leaned to get it, I would look at her answers and start copying most of them down.
"Two 'special' minutes left…"
Okay, got all the questions, good, good.
Question # 20, 21, 22, 23… up to 30. Then 31, 32, 33, 34, 35…to 40…
Still going and moving very fast. I breezed through every question looking at her paper. I ignored all instructions on the questionnaire as I just looked at her paper, copying as I go and…
"Final 'special' minute…"
Question # 46? Okay. Question # 47? Okay. Question # 48? Okay. Question # 49? Okay.
I'll make the last one intentionally wrong.
I looked at my entire paper with my answers. I'm now finished with the test. Whew!
Wow! That seemed easy. Now I see. Like the fabrication with Mr. Simmons before, now I see why so many would do this too, and…
"Riiiiiiiiiiiing," the bell rang.
Sigh! Just in time.
"Okay class, pencils up and pass your papers. I will give the results by Monday. May you all have a 'special' weekend!"
After the test, Gerald and I met beside the school bus that stopped in front of PS118. After we made our secret handshake, we stepped into the school bus and found a seat for both of us. We sat there together.
"Man, I'd say that was the most difficult test in history!" Gerald pointed out as he breathed a sigh of relief that the test was over with, "I was able to get some of them but I was not sure on the others. How about you, Arnold?"
"It was great, Gerald," I replied, also glad that the test was finally over, "I'll pass for sure!"
"Wow! You're lucky, Arnold," he smiled, "I could see that you did studied hard last night. I just knew you'll pull through and pass this time!"
In my room, after baseball, I circled another day on my calendar as usual and this time, I sat on the rotating chair and faced the study table. I rested my face and arms on the study table, and I was in deep thought. I just couldn't understand want happened during baseball earlier. I couldn't seem to bat and run as well as I used to. Somehow, during baseball, I just kept thinking of my conversation with Gerald on the bus and I couldn't get this out of my head during the game. Why couldn't I?
I kept recalling the words over and over, and then I remembered how it was possible that I passed the test. Yes. Now I remember. It was because of the 30 or more questions that I copied off from Phoebe… no! Wait! From…from Phoebe?
I suddenly sobbed into the surface of my study table. NO! What have I… What have I done! I-I shouldn't have done it. No! How could I fall to this trap? Why did I become so stupid?
I could have just looked the other way, forgetting everything, but no! I HAD done it!
But it's too late to change it now. What's done is done. I couldn't do anything about it.
I had done it… I had done it… I don't know whether I should be happy. I shouldn't. How could I be so blind to what was happening. I should NEVER had done it. Why oh why after a million chances of not doing it, did I still do it? And now, I may have to regret it…
Oh Gerald, if you ONLY knew what REALLY happened…
Author's Notes: Ladies and gentlemen! Believe it or not, Arnold did the unthinkable. But will his problems be gone now? And wouldn't Helga have realized it by now that something's really wrong with her beloved? The answers to these and more are in the next chapter.
What do you guys think? Too far-fetched? Impossible? Hard to understand? Too involving? Unbelievable? Should I even CONTINUE with this kind of a story? If I'll continue with this, I absolutely promise that this will DEFINITELY have a happy ending for all. I swear! I ABSOLUTELY swear! Cross my heart! Hard to believe? Well, find out how this turns out. As I mentioned before absolutely any feedback is okay. It's the only way that I'll ever learn. Thanks!
- tst : )