A/N Apologies for the break in service! I took a little time off on account of becoming a year older. So very, very old... Thanks to everybody who reviewed the last chapter! Hope you enjoy!

SILENCING NATURE

Chapter 8 - That Explosive Day

Walking through the forest can be a deeply enjoyable experience. Couples can stroll hand-in-hand, relishing the company of their significant other in the tranquillity of nature, the outside world and its troubles a distant afterthought. Parents can stroll and laugh, shouting out the mandatory 'be careful's to their children as they sprint ahead, their minds filled with memories of when they were young and did the exact same thing. Somehow a forest can bend and adapt to be beautiful in almost any weather, as if able to cover itself in a glamour. When the sun is shining and the air is warm, the bright colours and subtle fragrances of nature come forward in abundance. When the branches are bare, and ground is tinged with scatterings of thin, white frost, the sight of your breath misting in front of you and the echoing crunches of your footsteps on dry leaves can make you feel more alive and at peace than ever before. Even when rain falls (within reason of course – few enjoy being out in a thunderstorm) the very sound of the raindrops, or the unique scent of ozone taken in with each breath, can be invigorating. Of course, an umbrella always helps.

This wasn't one of those walks.

"Miles?" The man paused at the sound of his wife's voice, if only for a moment, carefully pushing aside a branch of gigantic, sodden leaves. Eduardo hadn't been wrong; the rain wasn't as heavy under the thick, green ceiling of the canopy. Unfortunately, that just toned things down from 'impassable' to 'deeply unpleasant'. The air was still filled with the sounds of rushing water, as if a raging river lay in every direction, and the ground had quickly started to become boggy as it greedily drank in the moisture, making every step a fight against the thick mud. Even the animals seemed to be in hiding, the odd colourful bird screeching as it darted between hidden perches. This was a walk through the forest with the dial turned well past eleven; holding his wife's hand would probably just mean both of them would fall over when they inevitably stumbled (as if the 'trail' was wide enough for more than single file regardless), and if the children with them ran ahead, they'd be legitimately likely to fall down a ravine. What a welcome back to the waking world! Miles' feet were wet, Miles' hair was wet, and makeshift poncho aside, Miles' underpants were wet... He was ecstatic to be alive and awake, no bones about it, but at least you can't chafe in your dreams...

"Yeah Stel?" He held the branch as his wife passed. One of the first things he learned as a field anthropologist was this: there is nothing more obnoxious than an inconsiderate companion letting the branch slap you in the face as they walk ahead. Stella offered a brief, grateful smile. Both of them were trying to hide how out of breath they were, though the hidden city was less than an hour behind them.

"You remember when Arnold was born?" Miles raised an incredulous eyebrow at Stella's question. Between the volcano, the mystical temple, the abundant screaming and the arrival of his firstborn, it had been a pretty memorable day.

"Uh, vaguely."

"You remember how you carried me on that stupid, rickety chair-palanquin thing you and Eduardo threw together in under five minutes?" Stella pressed on as they resumed walking, now ahead of her husband.

"Yes. You told me, and I quote, 'so help me, I'm not risking the life of our baby on your crummy DIY skills'. Then another contraction hit, you shot up there like a squirrel monkey, and screamed at us to get moving until your face turned purple."

"That's the one." The woman was finally forced to pause, panting. Perhaps the combination of walking AND talking had taken more energy than her body could spare right then, and she doubled over slightly as she caught her breath. Miles was quick to come to her side, though he could do little more than gently rub her back to offer comfort. He used to be a chivalrous, piggyback sort of guy, and he knew that she loved that about him (although she'd smirk and roll her eyes at him regardless when he offered)... But if he was honest, he was running on fumes himself by that point. He reaffirmed his oath to regain his strength in that moment.

"So, what about it?" He enquired, quietly enjoying the short break.

Stella turned to him, her exhaustion barely hidden behind a weak, playful grin. She couldn't hide her tired eyes, though. "I've changed my mind. It was a great chair. I loved that chair. That was, without question, the best chair in the world, Chippendale be darned. So you can go ahead and make me another one – I'll wait." Miles could only laugh and rest his head against her own, both of their eyes closing for a moment; he loved this woman so very much.

"Are you guys ok?" They were broken out of their quiet trance (fortunately before either of them could drift off) as each felt a small hand gently clasping their shoulder. They opened their eyes to see their son staring at them intently, his face filled with worry. It was a conflicting moment...

Seeing him still filled them with so much joy; intense and overwhelming, like pure white fire. It was a joy that only parents get to know, magnified a thousandfold by the pain of separation. They had thought about him each and every night, once darkness fell and they couldn't work any longer on the precious cure, imagining him growing little by little without them with every day that passed. They had clung to the memory of him as the awful sickness stole each of them away. And of course they both dreamed of him. How strange that, even when you sleep for nine long years, you still find memories of your dreams so hard to grasp. Like handfuls of sand, the images are quickly lost through the unsealed cracks and gaps of your mind, until they're gone forever for the most part. But they had flashes. In sweet dreams, the one's where they reunited with their boy, he would be happy, healthy and beaming. He would be the little child they remembered, unharmed by their long absence and theirs once again. Or perhaps he would grow without them; those bittersweet dreams where they never returned, but where his life was a happy one regardless. In those visions, he would be as tall and strong as his father, and as sharp and brilliant as his mother. Sometimes he would have a family of his own, who he loved and who loved him in return. He would never, ever leave them.

But then, as always, there were nightmares. Horrible visions where they would find themselves in a Hillwood twisted and changed by time into a place beyond their recognition, and filled with a gigantic faceless crowd. They always knew that their son was there, somewhere, but he didn't know them, and they couldn't recognise him. Any passer-by with blonde hair that they grabbed would be a stranger. Any time they shouted his name, there would be no answer. But they were awake now, and Arnold was with them. Every time they looked at him, every time they saw his face, was like a new lesson; Arnold 101, 102, 103. Every curve and line was studied and memorised, ever tiny feature carefully catalogued and compared to the face of a baby they'd seen nearly a decade ago. Every miniscule change and maturation that happened in their absence was noticed. But all the same, they had known him. Instantly and without doubt, even through eyes that hadn't seen use in years, they had known their son. The nightmares would never come true; they could make sure of that now. Just feeling his hands on their shoulders somehow invigorated them, granting an extremely welcome second wind. There was the conflict; their son had worried about them for more than long enough, and his concerned expression cut them deeply. It should always have been the other way around.

"We're fine, Sweetie," Stella offered Arnold a far more convincing smile than the one Miles had received, "we just needed to catch our breath for a minute. We're a little out of practice!" The couple rose, each supporting the other and both regretting the loss of contact as Arnold's hands fell away.

"Are you both alright?" Eduardo, who had been leading the group, echoed Arnold's question, having backtracked on noticing their sudden halt. Helga and Gerald now waited further ahead, each looking decidedly impatient. The man relaxed a little as the couple gave him reassuring nods. He would never cease to be amazed at what Miles and Stella could handle, although he still wondered if Miles had embellished the 'cable car' story from their honeymoon. Granted, he had found his friend afterwards reclining by the pool with multiple fractured bones, but Miles could crack his skull playing table tennis... "Ok. The boat is less than a mile away, and I have more food, water and blankets inside. Are you sure you don't need a break?" It was a serious question, but he and Miles shared a smirk. The private joke had started sometime after Miles had broken his third bone while hiking during their college days.

"I think we'll all be happier taking a rest," Miles narrowed his eyes good-naturedly at his friend, "when we've got a roof over our heads. That's assuming the boat is actually a mile away, and we're not just going in the wrong direction." Eduardo shook his head and rolled his eyes, his shoulders sagging exaggeratedly.

"Ay, I got us lost one time and you've never let me forget it. And as I recall, it allowed you to meet your wife – I was clearly being guided by a higher power!"

"Yeah, yeah. All the same, if you try to tell us that the boat is 'just around that mountain' I will slug you." Miles folded his arms in mock threat, though the other man simply shrugged.

"Bueno. Better you than Stella." The men's eyes locked for several moments before both both lapsed into hearty laughter, Stella joining in with her own giggles. Friends reunited after nine years. Blink of an eye.

"Hey, remember when-" Miles began.

"It's RAINING!" Their attention was abruptly grabbed by Helga, who had marched back and now stood with folded arms and a tapping (or splashing) foot. A steady stream of water now flowed from the brim of the hat, which she had insisted on keeping as 'insurance' for Eduardo's guiding services. She looked decidedly unimpressed. "Just thought I'd remind you all." Helga used one hand to casually gesture at their soaked surroundings. She had been concerned at first. Really she had. A jungle trek in a downpour? Hardly the right way for Arnold's parents to start their first day in nearly a decade. She was pretty sure that they were putting on a brave face – something she knew a little about – and that they were actually exhausted. Happy and eager, maybe, but exhausted. Poor guys... But crimeny, this was not the time for a fun round of banter! And besides, hers was the life of Helga G. Pataki; Arnold had just returned her affections the day before (cue mental squeal), and she was ready to bet that the universe would just jump at the chance to balance that out with a lethal case of pneumonia. Some small part of her mind cringed – after all, it was Arnold's parents she was telling off – but she could worry about being respectful when she wasn't waterlogged! She was only human. Probably.

The young girl's outburst caused both Miles and Eduardo to stop laughing, both of them looking sheepish as they were faced by her scowl, but Stella quietly snickered for a few moments longer, her hand covering her mouth. "S-sorry Helga, I never could get these dopes to keep their eyes on the trail. How about you make sure Eduardo stays focussed up front, and I'll keep Miles moving back here – make sure they stay separated."

Helga shrugged, secretly relieved that he hadn't caused offence. "Yeah, sure." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Front and centre, Ed, we're not getting any younger or drier here!" As Eduardo resumed his position, forging their way ahead with continued 'encouragement' from the pigtailed girl, Arnold and Gerald shared a brief amused look (though Gerald quickly reburied his face behind his hood); Helga was using her 'sports coach' voice. They probably shouldn't have been surprised that it worked on adults too. They pressed on in determined silence, for a while, the sounds of squelching footsteps and tired grunts occasionally rising above the dim of the rainfall. Arnold, though, stayed closer to his parents than before; he'd carry them both back to civilisation himself if he had to.

"Hey, Ed?" After some time Helga spoke quietly to the man ahead of her, her throat a little hoarse from the 'drill sergeant' routine. Plus, she didn't necessarily want Arnold's folks to hear this; the Shortmans and Gerald had fallen slightly behind, and she was counting on the rain to block out the low conversation. Eduardo gave a sound of acknowledgement, the majority of his focus on clearing the foliage that blocked their way. "What did happen when Arnold was born?" It was far from the best time to bring it up, but the questions had been quietly piling up in her mind; what she overheard of Miles and Stella's exchange brought them to the forefront. Sure, she could ask Arnold, but at this point she figured he didn't know much more than she did. Kids tend not to remember being born that well... And as for his parents, well, she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to take on casual conversation with them just yet. The fact that they even existed weirded her out a little, like a huge new chapter had been unceremoniously shoved into the middle of her 'Arnold File'. Arnold didn't have parents. It was just one of those things that is. Or was, she supposed. No-one really talked about it or mentioned it (the great and tactful Big Bob aside...) and even Arnold's bringing them up in the alleyway back in Hillwood had thrown her for a loop. Sure, the idea of actually finding them had crossed her mind (she inwardly cringed as the words 'lost losers' floated through her memory), but realistically she'd just expected Arnold to get some closure! And now they were walking a few metres behind her... It was spooky, and if she was having trouble processing this, then Arnold must have been going nuts! Besides, if she talked to them they could bring up the kiss they'd witnessed, or any number of Tiukwí-related topics that she knew she wasn't ready to take on. She knew the story, or at least bits of it, pieced together from what she'd heard from Tiukwí and Arnold; a volcano erupting, a baby crying in a temple, and all of nature falling still. It was almost impossible to believe, much as she idolised Arnold and even in spite of the last couple of days, and somehow 'Tiukwí the unfeasibly ancient' failed to strike her as a reliable source of information. But Eduardo had been there too, hadn't he?

The man turned, an inquisitive eyebrow raised, and his eyes quickly darted from Helga's anxious face to the remainder of the group a short distance behind. He could understand her being curious, and he could certainly understand her being nervous if what Tiukwí had told them was true... Turning back, his face now hidden, he finally responded. His voice was wistful. "It was one of the strangest and most exciting days of my life. And I was not even the one having a baby! Miles, Stella and I had been helping to develop a small community many miles from here, not far from Vulcán Turriable – the volcano you may have seen in the distance. We were doing important work for the people there, and Stella refused to leave until she absolutely had to. Arnold arrived a little early, just a week or two, and this meant that we were... not well-placed when the time came." Helga gave a small cringe; talk about the downsides of being stubborn.

"Miles and I tried to carry her to a hospital. We took every crazy shortcut we could think of! But just when we thought we might make it, the volcano actually erupted." Helga gave a small gulp; so that part had been true. "Of all the days for such a thing to happen... Vulcán Turriable had been dormant for centuries! I had never seen the like of it, and I never hope to again. At least not from that distance! The lava spread so quickly. There was fire everywhere. I had never been so scared in my life." Helga saw Eduardo give a small shudder before he pressed on. "We thought we were trapped. Stella could not go any further. But then we saw smoke in the distance. Green smoke. We knew the Green-Eyed People considered Miles and Stella to be familia, but we had heard nothing from them in months. Still, it seemed they were watching over us that day. I don't know how Stella found the strength, but we followed the signal, and we found the temple hidden deep in the jungle. On any other day, Miles and I would have been drooling!" He gave a soft chuckle. "But all that mattered then was that it was above ground. We got Stella inside, and I left them to focus on..." He glanced back at his young audience. "Well, I left them. I stood outside and watched the lava spread. It was chaos!" Helga's heart skipped a beat; hadn't Tiukwí used the same word? "The jungle was in flames. The lava was surrounding us again, and the air stank of sulphur. I saw animals trying to escape the destruction, screeching and howling. It was terrible, as if nature itself was screaming! My best friends were having their child behind me, and I truly thought we were all going to die..." His hand moved to his face. If he was wiping away rain water or tears, Helga couldn't tell. "And then Arnold cried. I am not a superstitious man – I have seen enough to know that reality is strange enough on its own, and I imagine you have too after all this – but something happened in that moment. His cries cut over everything. I swear I saw animals stop and stare in our direction, and even I felt an amazing wave of... peace." He let out a short sigh. "But the strangest thing was the volcano. It stopped the very instant Arnold made his first sounds. Even the fires caused by the eruption seemed less ferocious. After that, making it to the hospital was easy, and Arnold didn't cry again once during the entire journey." He paused to beat away a chunk of thick vegetation, and glanced back in Helga's direction. "I do believe in coincidences, but I have my limits."

Helga wasn't sure when her jaw had dropped – maybe sometime around the 'nature was screaming' part of Eduardo's little recap – but she hadn't got round to closing it by the time the story ended. Eduardo's first-hand recollection certainly painted a more vivid picture of her beloved's first birthday than Tiukwí had offered, changing it in her mind from some sensational storybook legend to a very real (and very frightening) experience, and a shiver was travelling slowly down her spine. More troubling was that Eduardo's version of events matched Tiukwí's more-or-less perfectly. A football-headed little baby being born into chaos, and silencing all of nature with a cry... She wasn't used to writing 'epic saga'-style poetry, but boy was she feeling inspired to try! And she was meant to be, what, the... equivalent... of that? Helga wasn't a stranger to a good, healthy scream, and she'd even been known to shed a tear or two herself, but she was pretty sure she'd never caused any natural disasters... But then again, Arnold was here now, sharing her world. He always had been, ever since that explosive day. She had a nasty feeling that, if she hadn't already been soaked to the bone, she would have started to sweat. Helga had been more than ready to accept Tiukwí's story; being Arnold's universal soulmate was pretty much the perk to end all perks (long live the Exciting Option!), and the idea of being destined for greatness was pretty much just icing on that fantastic cake. But suddenly things were feeling very, very big. And a little dangerous... If all of this really was true, then just what the heck were she and Arnold capable of? What were they? She had told Arnold to lock away the weirdness in a box until he felt ready to handle it, but it takes a pretty robust box to hold a volcanic eruption.

"Look, I know the old man told you guys some... stuff about Arnold. And me, I guess." She decided to be upfront; it was made easier by the fact that she was once again talking to the back of Eduardo's head. "What do you think of all this? Do you really think Football Head actually cried a volcano to death? 'Cause just saying it out loud makes it sound crazy to me!" She took a breath, trying to keep her tone level; she still wanted to keep the conversation private.

"You always call the boy you like 'Football Head'?" Eduardo turned back, his brow once again raised, this time in amusement, and Helga facepalmed, blushing at her inevitable slip. On a different day she might have bitten back at that kind of comment, but right now she just wanted answers. The man chuckled, giving a small shake of his head as he turned back. "Do I think the volcano stopped because of Arnold? ...Sí. Yes, I do. I do not pretend to understand how, or why, but I know what I saw that day. But I do not believe he simply 'willed' the volcano to stop. The Green Eyes believe that the volcano erupted because nature was out of balance." Helga didn't particularly like the curious look he turned to give her at that comment. "Arnold fixed that just by coming into the world. As for the rest..." He seemed to look her up and down; it made Helga feel as though he were double-checking her for wings, or a halo, or maybe some big sign around her neck saying 'I AM A GODDESS – PLEASE BOW TO ME'. She was just a child. A skinny blonde girl with pigtails, sporting this season's very latest in plastic fashion. Nothing to see here. "You and Arnold did something amazing here. I don't think many people, if any other people, could have done what you did. Your friend Gerald and I, we helped, yes, but we could have done nothing for Miles, Stella or the Green Eyes without the two of you. And you are only niños! Let's just say I agree that the two of you are something very special. Ah!"

Their conversation ended abruptly as, with the removal of one final piece of stubborn overgrowth, the river and boat both finally came into view, the latter tied securely to the shore as the swollen river fought to drag it away. It was the very same vessel that they had once mistaken for a pirate ship. And it was yet another conflicting sight; the boat was sweet salvation after their exhausting hike, but the way the small craft tossed and bobbed recklessly in the gushing current could have been a literal picture of seasickness. Helga bit her tongue, forcing back the remainder of her questions as their companions approached.

"Hey, so you're pretty good at sailing this thing, right?" The rest of the group had caught up, wearily emerging onto the riverbank, and Gerald had been the first to speak. In a strange way Arnold, and even Helga, were a little relieved; he had been uncharacteristically silent during their journey, save for some quiet, sullen grumbles that had drifted past the tightly-pulled folds of his hood. He was now staring at the unsteady vessel with wary apprehension. And he thought getting on a bike had been a frightening concept...

"Not to worry, my friend." Eduardo offered him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I have been travelling this river since before you were born. And the boat is very reliable – it is almost new!"

Gerald's eyes narrowed at Eduardo's final 'comforting' comment. "Oh yeah? What happened to your last boat?"

"Not important." Eduardo waved a dismissive hand. "Vamos!" The man strode ahead, leaving Gerald to give the rest of the group a wide-eyed look of stunned disbelief. Most of them could only shrug, before slowly following in Eduardo's wake.

"He really can sail very well." Miles knelt down and offered Gerald a second comforting hand on the shoulder as he passed, before turning his eyes in Eduardo's direction, a shadow passing over his face. "It's his piloting you want to watch out for."

As the group carefully boarded one-by-one, Gerald was left alone on the bank, still spluttering slightly from Miles' offhand comment. For a few moments he looked at the tumbling boat, then up at the pouring, grey sky, and finally back in the direction of the dense forest. He considered his options... But suddenly, the clouds themselves spoke with a colossal peal of thunder, which almost drowned out the boy's terrified cry. It made his decision a lot easier. Sprinting towards the boat (which he desperately hoped was properly grounded), he growled under his breath.

"I HATE the jungle..."

A/N The greatest gift you can give is the gift of feedback :D