A/N Don't you just hate it when life gets in the way of your hobbies? Apologies for the delay in getting this latest chapter to you all! I hope everyone finds it worth the wait. As always, a huge thanks to everyone who left a review since the last update. Hope you all enjoy!
SILENCING NATURE
Chapter 13 - A Nice Surprise
"I always wanted to say this: LAAAND HOOO!"
Gerald's loud shout echoed off the boat's thin metal walls, filling every room. Volume aside, you could hear the enthusiasm in the two simple words. Considering the alternative options were interrupting Arnold's private time with his parents, another delightful period of strained silence with Helga G. Pataki, or sitting alone and trying to process everything that had happened since the previous night, the boy had elected to spend the last while trying to engage in awkward small talk with Eduardo. Add to that the confusion and discomfort that he'd had to deal with since setting foot on the boat, and Gerald was more than happy to be told their destination was only moments away. In his mind, Puerto Clara was one step closer to Hillwood, and that meant one step closer to sweet, sane, urban normality. If that was even possible any more... He knew all too well that the craziness of this trip would be following them home in more ways than one.
In any case, the rest of their small party responded to the call. Arnold had happily resumed catching up with his parents – he was almost sad that the rest of the world was ready to interrupt them again – and Helga had sequestered herself, hoping to lie back and try to settle her thoughts for a short while. It didn't work. How could it possibly have worked? The previous night had been the mental equivalent of a magnitude-7 earthquake, and every time she thought her feet were steady again, this trip hit her with a fresh aftershock. Her mind was swirling chaotically, a crazy mess of giddy delight and persistent, nagging fears and worries. Fortunately, one of the very, very few people to whom Helga G. Pataki could unburden herself was waiting for her in the city. Too bad for Gerald – he would have to wait his turn. As they all emerged from their cabins, she tried not to swoon at Arnold's shy smile in her direction, and together they ascended into the daylight.
"Ahh, sweet civilisation – it is good to be back!" Gerald stood waiting as they emerged, apparently ready and eager to disembark, and he waved a hand in the direction of the approaching dock. He already sounded happier!
It felt so strange, finding themselves nearing the very same little pier that had been their starting point. The sun was finally finding the strength to force its way through the clouds here and there, the warm light bouncing and shimmering against the fast-moving river, and other boats – the larger and more confident ones – drifted past as they began their own journeys towards parts unknown. It all looked the same. The air they were breathing smelt the same. Even the sounds of the city were the same, loud chatter and distant music drifting through the air. Arnold blinked at the stunning realisation that it really had only been a couple of days. It didn't seem possible that so much could change, so very drastically, in that brief length of time. It didn't even seem real. The notion caused him to clutch at the loose material of his parents' shirts, at either side of him, much as he had done the previous night while they all headed to their beds. Back then it had been to ease some strange, irrational fear that they would drift out of his grasp and be lost to him again. Now, it served as an anchor to reality, the very feeling of the course material against his skin reassuring him that he was awake, and that everything they'd been through was real life, and not a dream. That thought finally made him remember present company, and he gazed up at his parents with concern.
"Do you guys need a few minutes?" Sure enough, Miles and Stella looked almost dazed, his hands tightly gripping the safety rail, hers clasped tightly at her waist. Their eyes were wide and unblinking, filled with something akin to disbelief. All three children looked worriedly at the couple; they were seeing the opposite end of the spectrum. It all looked, sounded, felt the same – it couldn't have been nine years. How could it have been nine whole years?
"We're fine." For a moment, Stella's voice sounded breathless, far away. But she quickly tore her eyes from the scene to look down at her son, an uneasy smile in place. "It just feels pretty strange to be back here after... after so long. You know, your dad and I spent a lot of time with Eduardo here before you were born."
"Really?" Arnold wasn't convinced that they were 'fine' at all, but talking was better than staring into the distance like zombies. "Is that true, Dad?"
"Huh?" Miles finally tore himself away too, with a jerk. "O-oh, yeah! When we weren't busy building up villages or fighting river pirates." A thought struck him and he grinned brightly, turning back to Eduardo, still in his position at the controls. "Hey Eduardo, how about we show the kids that great place to get pupusas later?"
Eduardo's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry Miles, that place closed down a few years ago."
"Oh..." Miles' smile quickly disappeared, a dejected look overtaking him as he returned his gaze to the approaching city. His son patted his back, as high as the boy could reach.
"It's ok, Dad." Arnold did his best to sound comforting. "Maybe when we get home, I can show you guys all of my favourite places. I bet you'd like the Dog Pound! Uhh, the hot dog restaurant, not the actual pound. We're not welcome there any more since Grandma keeps staging mass breakouts."
"Yeah, and hey," Gerald quickly chimed in, "you can check out Antonio's too. Mmm, mmm, mmm – best pizza in the city, if not the whole darn state!"
"Oh please," Helga rolled her eyes, though she wore a large smirk, "first place I'm headed once we're back home is Slausen's. There're at least three triple chocolate shakes and a dozen cherries with my name on 'em!"
To their combined relief, Miles finally let out a chuckle. He turned away from the view to face the group, leaning back against the railing. "Well ok! Sounds like we'll be spoilt for choice! And I've gotta go with Arnold on this one; after all this time a hot dog with everything sounds just about perfect." As the man's voice took on a wistful tone, Arnold shot each of his friends a look of sincere gratitude.
"Miles Shortman!" Stella folded her arms, giving her husband a chastising, playful look. "You've been asleep for nearly a decade and the first thing you want is a hot dog? Oh no, buster – you're taking me out for a real meal." Her eyes suddenly lit up, and her hand darted to her husband's shoulder. "Oh, I really hope that sweet little French place is still there! You know, Miles, the one on the corner, by the fountain. What was it called? Château something..?"
"Chez Paris?!" All three kids responded, their jaws dropping – Helga's, perhaps, a little further than the others.
"That's it!" Stella looked as though she could bounce for a moment, before being overtaken by a confused look. "You've been there? Last I remember it was pretty... fancy." She refrained from mentioning that the waiter had been a pretentious jerk that she'd wanted to punch, but the food had been so good. Still, it was hardly a family restaurant.
"Yeah, we've been there once or twice." Arnold nodded. "What can I say, Mom; we're very sophisticated." He grinned widely, only allowing his eyes the briefest moment to dart in Helga's direction as Gerald released a distracting burst of laughter. As he'd hoped, the girl had quickly turned about as pink as her bow. He tried to remember any times from before this trip that he'd seen Helga G. Pataki blush, but they were very few and far between. In fact, knowing her, she'd probably always tried to hide it. In any case, it seemed to be happening more and more, and he was quickly coming to a conclusion – he liked it.
Yes, she was also shooting daggers at him, but it was worth it. He could practically hear her voice in his head. 'Go ahead, Hair Boy – tell them about the cockroaches. I DARE you.'
Stella giggled. "I'm sure you are. All the same, I'm impressed; your dad could never even read the menu."
"Hey, come on now." Miles protested with a sarcastic pout. "I can read Spanish, Portuguese, Latin, and Green Eye! What more do you want from me?" And with a final, teasing grin from his wife, the man's regrets and anxiety were chased away, at least for now.
The conversation continued, jokes and debates on the quality of Hillwood's cuisine carrying them through those last, difficult minutes on the water, keeping their minds at ease, until Eduardo finally requested Miles and Stella's assistance in securing the boat to it's new mooring. Arnold tried to let the pleasure of the moment wash over him, and not be distracted by the utter, uncanny weirdness of it all. He'd been standing on a boat, fresh out of a jungle no less, chatting to his parents about the best places to eat in Hillwood, past and present. He'd have to start believing it at some point, he reasoned – maybe when he and his dad were getting those hot dogs.
"Man... No-one's gonna believe any of this." Gerald spoke suddenly, snapping Arnold from his similar thoughts, the children having been left briefly alone. He was peering over the boat's edge, not that his mind was particularly focused on the rushing water below. "I'm not sure I believe half of it. Seriously guys, be straight with me, did all that really happen, or did I just go crazy somewhere back there?"
"Yep, hate to break it to you but you're hallucinating." Helga joked, leaning against the cool wall. "What can I say; some street food you ate after we landed was really bad..." Gerald rolled his eyes, smirking.
Arnold looked back and forth between the two. Between needing to chase Helga up the crow's nest and learning his parents' feelings on the whole Tiukwí business, he'd barely registered the fact that she and Gerald didn't seem ready to kill each other until now.
"So, you two seem... ok?" He tried not to sound too hopeful, not that he could really help it. Whatever the future held for him and Helga, Arnold desperately wanted his best friend to be onboard. As for the other two, they locked eyes for a moment, before glancing away in embarrassment. Once Arnold was clued-in, both were pretty sure their little formal discussion about Arnold and Helga's relationship (Gerald kept trying not to grimace at the very thought) would be placed firmly in the 'never to be spoken of again' vault.
"Don't sweat it, Arnold. We're cool." Gerald reassured his friend, Helga giving a single nod of agreement. He gave Arnold a serious look. "I mean, you and me definitely have some stuff to talk about, man. A lot of stuff. But with everything else going on, I figure that can wait till we're back on home turf. Or any kind of turf... Seriously, am I the only one who's ready to get off this boat?"
"Pfft, seconded." Helga raised a weary hand. She'd had a more stressful time on this little river cruise than she'd had in pirate prison!
Arnold blinked for a moment, before grinning. "Uh, 'thirded', I guess. And I know what you mean, Gerald – I can hardly believe any of this either. It's a pretty incredible story."
"Speaking of which, just how much of this are we going to share with those dinguses from school?" Helga spoke with hidden nervousness, having been struck by a moment of panic. Or at least she hoped it was hidden. There was a lot about the last 24 hours that she really didn't want spread around. The three of them exchanged uncertain looks, each apparently trying to hit on the exact amount of information that was allowed to become public knowledge.
"Well, I really don't want to lie to them again..." Arnold began, hesitantly.
Helga rolled her eyes. "Doi. I'm not talking about spinning something out of thin air here, Arnold. I'm just thinking we should... redact a detail or two."
Gerald's eyes widened, his hands quickly raised. "Whoa, look; if you're talking about you two being a... whatever you are, then just leave me out of it. I'm not sure I like having that knowledge in my own head – I'm sure as heck not gonna tell anybody else!"
"Gee, thanks Geraldo." Helga bit back, feeling a little stung; was it really that repulsive of an idea? Still, it was good to know Gerald wasn't about to blab before she was ready. She threw her arms out. "I'm talking about the Tiukwí stuff, moron!"
Gerald frowned. "If I understood everything right earlier, ain't it pretty much the same thing?" Helga shot him a dry glare. "Ok, ok. All, uh, 'made for each other' stuff is off the table. Sound good?" Both blondes nodded more than readily at that. Neither had any interest in anyone else learning that little detail just yet.
'Well,' Helga thought, 'maybe just one person...'
"Alright." Gerald pressed on. "And what about the rest?"
"I think it's ok to tell them about the Green Eyes, and about everything that happened with Lasombra. Just maybe leave out the weirder stuff?" Arnold suggested, quickly finding it ridiculous what apparently came under 'less weird' by this point. "I don't see why anyone needs to know about what the Green Eyes think of me and Helga."
"I know, I know," Gerald sighed, "you already got me to swear on that one, remember? No telling anyone about the shrines, statues or murals. No telling people that the Green Eyes are a bunch of Arnold-worshipping kooks. Y'know, personally, I still think you should just roll with it. Think how good it'll look on a college application some day! 'I am considered a god by a small Central American civilisation'. You'd really stand out!" The boy finished with a wide grin. He'd almost made a joke about using it as a pickup line, but the memory of Helga's final, intimidating exchange with the princess held him back. That whole thing made way more sense now, and that knowledge somehow made it even scarier.
"You're bugging me Gerald..." Arnold frowned.
"Fine. But I really don't get why you wouldn't tell people about the other Tiukwí stuff. Stopping a volcano? Causing a volcano?! That's awesome! I mean, if any of it's true, it makes the two of you sound like s-"
"If you say 'superheroes' again, I'll throw you overboard." Helga quickly interjected, Ol' Betsy raised and ready. It wasn't a threat, it was a fact – he could swim from here just fine. Probably. Either way, Gerald clammed up.
"Ok..." For a moment he looked dejected. Suddenly though, the boy burst out laughing, his friends casting him worried glances until he spoke. "Heheh, I just realised – s-so, we're gonna tell the others that we found a hidden jungle city run entirely by kids, fought Lasombra for some kind of ancient, magical heart, saved an entire civilisation from a deadly disease, and found Arnold's parents. That about cover it?" He paused, grinning madly at the other two, each giving him a hesitant nod after processing the list. "And guys; that's the boring version!" On hitting the punchline, Gerald's laughter resumed, leaving him clutching his sides.
"Oh crimeny..." Helga shared an incredulous look with Arnold as the truth of his words sank in. But before she knew it, they were laughing too. Laughing at the impossibility of the last few days. Laughing at the overwhelming insanity of the whole thing. When it came right down to it, Gerald had no reason to complain – as tale-tellers go, their crazy lives left him downright spoiled! This was how Arnold's parents found them; tears in their eyes and barely able to stand. The adults could only share a perplexed look, and let them ride it out.
It wasn't long afterwards that the group finally said their goodbyes to the S.S. Eduardo (a cursory glance revealed the boat's actual name to be 'Serenidad', leading Helga to hotly demand a rebranding once she learned the translation), and made their way to a waiting minivan; a battered, white, mud-streaked heap of a thing, proudly emblazoned with a peeling Helpers for Humanity logo and clearly a veteran of numerous excursions to the more out-of-reach regions of the jungle country. Still, appearances aside, it was probably a fortunate thing that they had a vehicle at all; the exhaustion was still etched deeply into Miles and Stella's faces – you could spot it, if you looked carefully enough – and the city was far from flat, climbing steeply up and away from the sea. And then there were the crowds. The streets were quieter by far than they had been when the children first arrived, the occasional stray strip of saturated confetti or colourful fabric being the only remaining evidence of the jubilant street parade and its vibrant floats. But the roads still bustled with activity as people went about their business, and the last thing Arnold wanted was to see his parents overwhelmed again by their return to civilisation. He watched them, as carefully as he could without openly staring, seeing them make occasional, nervous glances out the window, their hands held tightly together the entire time. Perhaps Puerto Clara, a place they used to know so well, was serving as their first real demonstration of the years that had passed. Well, Arnold himself notwithstanding... After all, the Green Eyes' city had been as frozen in time as they were, and their decade of sleep was as nothing to the jungle. But most cities, the kind that aren't carved from ancient stone and hidden behind lethal traps, are dynamic things. Nine years could make all the difference in the world, and what seemed the same from a distance could feel utterly alien with enough subtle changes – ones only noticeable to the familiar.
Maybe that's what Miles and Stella were seeing now – a entirely different world from the one they'd left.
It also didn't help that Helga had suddenly become oddly quiet and fidgety since entering the car, seemingly lost in her thoughts as her fingers drummed and twisted in her lap. All this considered, Arnold was grateful that their journey was a short one, unlike their arduous trek along the river, and they soon approached an antiquated hotel. He did his best to move his mind away from nagging worries, and towards brighter things; his grandparents were waiting for him, and so were his friends. He couldn't wait to see them, all of them, and the fact that they were safe in spite of his mistakes was a greater relief than he could even describe. He had a lot of apologies to make, he thought, and probably more than a few reparations (including buying Sid a new pair of beatle boots...). He could only hope that they would forgive him, in time. But for now, he was faced with the unreal task of introducing the class of P.S.118 to Miles and Stella Shortman. 'At least I'll have Grandma and Grandpa there too – maybe it'll feel less overwhelming. Maybe the others have been sitting around wondering what my parents are like!' The amusing thought made him pause, just as he was reaching to open the door, as he reflected on what Eduardo had told them the night before. That the class knew they were safe, that the others were waiting for them.
"Uh... Eduardo?" The rest of the group stopped; he had the attention of the whole car.
"Yes?" Their driver raised a quizzical brow.
"Dumb question, but you did tell people that Mom and Dad are with us, right?" All eyes turned to the man, waiting for an 'of course', or even another simple 'yes'. Their jaws dropped when he simply cleared his throat and glanced away, nervously fidgeting with the wide hat in his lap.
"Oh, Eduardo, you didn't..?" Stella was incredulous.
"I thought it would be a nice surprise..." The man finally admitted, with an awkward shrug.
"Nice?!" Miles practically screamed. "My parents are gonna have heart attacks!"
Eduardo rolled his eyes. "I am not suggesting that you wait behind their door and shout 'surprise', Miles." His friend could only slump back in his seat, at a complete loss.
"Ok, so what are we supposed to do, Ed?" The revelation had snapped Helga from her apparent trance, and she tried her best to throw her hands up in their cramped quarters. "Just walk in there and say 'Ta-da'? 'Cause I'm pretty sure 'The Great Arnoldini' back here left his magician's outfit at home!" The jerked a thumb in the boy's direction.
"You have a little magician's outfit?" Stella quickly interjected, turning to her son, unable to contain a wide, adoring smile. "That's so cute!"
"Mom..." Arnold buried his face in his hands on sheer reflex, his cheeks flushing, before realising what he was doing. 'I just got embarrassed by my mom! Guess it really does come naturally...' It was a pretty confusing conflict, and not one that helped solve the current problem.
Helga winced at her beloved's discomfort. "Uhh, not important right now. Look, there's basically a half-crazed mob waiting for us in there." She paused, 'including Bob, Miriam and Olga – I think I'd rather deal with a genuine angry mob, pitchforks and all...'. "And I'm guessing you'd rather not have this little reunion with a bunch of gawking spectators. So why don't me and Gerald head in there first, and you guys wait in another room or something. We can send Arnold's grandma and grandpa out to you. Y'know, let you guys break it to them gently, or whatever." She finished, folding her arms.
"That... actually does sound like a pretty good strategy." Gerald conceded.
"Yeah, that's a good idea – thanks Helga." Arnold agreed, sending her a small, grateful grin. That alone hit her hard enough. When he quickly followed it with a gentle hand on her arm, she could practically hear the fireworks go off in her head, even from that simple touch; it was probably lucky she was already sitting down.
"No problem..." She began dreamily, before catching herself with a shake of her head, her earlier anxiety coming back in full force. "Uhh, so, we have a plan and we're not getting any younger – let's move, people!" In a flash, she had flung open the door and darted from the car.
"O...k." Miles raised a brow at the girl, who was now rapidly pacing outside the vehicle, apparently taking in large lungfuls of air. He and Stella shared a look of silent communication. It was true; Eduardo's stunt hadn't left them with many better options. They reached an agreement. "Well, you heard her. Let's go kill my parents." He shot a mild glare in his friend's direction, Eduardo looking increasingly sheepish by this point, and pointed a finger. "And you know what? I'm not paying for those shelves!" With a final, resigned groan and a shake of his head, Miles followed suit and left the vehicle, the rest of the group moving anxiously in his wake.
The hotel was by no means five-star quality, not that it was derelict or unpleasant to look at. It stood only three storeys tall, a collection of dark wooden doors and narrow, questionable metal balconies stretching up the side of the building. Its white paint was stained and faded from age and the elements. Still, the entryway was beautifully etched and carved from thick stone – although not nearly as grand as the Green Eyes' architecture – and the view was undoubtedly a prized feature. The building stood above and apart from the narrow, winding streets of the city; Puerto Clara and the ocean lay spread out beneath it, the green expanse of the jungle disappearing into every other direction. But the scenery was far from anyone's mind now. The group headed towards the entrance, Helga surreptitiously pausing, apparently to tie her shoelace, as the others moved by her one-by-one. It was only when Arnold passed, last in line, that she stood, quick as lighting, and yanked him to one side, out of sight.
The boy blinked at suddenly finding himself with his back against a wall, watching as Helga silently poked her head around the corner, seeing the rest of the group move further away, their absence unnoticed just for this brief moment.
"Helga, what's going on?" At his words, the girl quickly looked back to him, her expression appearing worried, fearful, sad... or maybe apologetic? That was as much warning as he got before her eyes shut tightly, and he found her lips pressed desperately to his own. He had no time to react or move his arms, to close his own eyes or process the flurry of explosions that went off in his chest and mind. It was over as abruptly as it began, Helga pulling away. Her grip on his shoulders, though, seemed to tighten even further; he half expected her to shake him.
"Whatever I say in there, whatever I wind up doing in front of all those other idiots, just don't believe it, ok? Please? I... I don't mean it. I don't..." She spoke quickly and quietly, her tone fraught, before taking a breath. "None of this, not one second, was heat of the moment – got that?"
Finally, Arnold understood. Her eyes were wide and pleading, seldom-seen vulnerability shining through in a blue sea of fear and doubt. They'd talked about it a little, the previous night. But now the time was suddenly here, and the girl had been forced to try and fit everything she wanted to say into the space of a few short, frantic seconds. Well, say and show. He knew, although he didn't quite comprehend yet, why Helga hid the way she felt for so long. He knew it had a lot to do with the people waiting for them inside. This thing between them was brand new, untested, and frankly he had no idea how he'd wind up handling it either.
He understood.
"I got it." He spoke softly, reassuringly, raising his arms to take hold of her tightly-clenched fists. Again, his thumbs began to slowly rub back and forth against her skin. Again, they apparently did it all on their own. He didn't try to stop it this time. "We're working out the kinks, remember? One step at a time. You don't need to flip a switch."
The girl hung her head and released a deep breath, her body un-tensing a little. "Ok." She released him, taking a small step back, before raising a finger to lightly, half-heartedly jab him the chest, her eyes narrowing. "If this all turns out to be an awesome dream after all, I will kill you." Arnold grinned brightly.
"You think I'm awesome?" He teased, watching her flush.
"...Shut up, Arnold." As she swiftly turned away, making to catch up with the others, he only just caught the barely held-off smirk appearing on her lips before he moved to follow.
Another conclusion – he liked those too.
"Where the heck did you two... You know what, I don't wanna know." Gerald shook his head, as they approached the waiting group, gathered in the hotel's small lobby. An extremely bored-looking woman, apparently the receptionist, sat nearly dozing behind a large desk, but the place seemed otherwise empty. The boy looked around. "Ok, so where is everybody?"
"And I just told you, I ain't waiting any longer!" Right on cue, a gruff voice boomed from down one of the nearby hallways. "If you don't have her here in the next two minutes, I'm gonna bulldoze that whole stinkin' jungle myself!"
"Theeere's Bob." Helga groaned, facepalming.
"Is that your dad, Helga?" Miles cast an apprehensive glance in the direction of the loud tirade. "He sounds... nice?"
"Yeah, he's a real peach..." The girl rolled her eyes. It figured that Bob would finally remember her existence at time that embarrassed her in front of as many people as possible.
"Apparently everyone has been waiting together in the dining room since breakfast." Eduardo returned from a brief talk with the receptionist. "I have also been told that this hotel will no longer welcome Helpers for Humanity or any of its 'associates'."
"Yeah, that pretty much figures." Helga tried not to shudder. The probably-traumatised class of P.S.118, including a half-feral Curly and a broken Simmons, in the same room as the Patakis and Arnold's grandparents, all stuck together for hours? The building was probably lucky to still be standing, and life in the jungle was starting to seem like a better and better option... "Ok. We'll go sacrifice ourselves to the horde now. Maybe you guys should wait across the hall?"
"It's good of you to help us out like this, Helga." Stella knelt down, much as she'd done the previous night, and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. In truth, the mother was a little concerned – it hadn't escaped her notice that Helga hardly seemed excited to be reunited with her family. "We appreciate it!"
"Y-yeah, well, happy to be of service." The girl spoke hastily, trying to ignore the look of disbelief the comment earned from Gerald, before nudging her head towards the corridor. "Come on, let's do this."
Heading towards the noise somehow began to feel like counting down to a detonation, more and more loud, familiar voices becoming discernible the closer they got – along with a few thumps and the odd cackle. Still, Helga had the presence of mind to quickly seize a handful of tissues as they passed a box on the front desk. She had a hunch... She watched as the Shortmans quickly selected a room in which to wait, just across the corridor, before Arnold turned back.
"Thanks again for doing this guys." He addressed both of his friends. "Tell the others I'll come through in a little while, ok? Just after we've broken the news to my grandparents."
"Dude, don't worry about it." Gerald grinned. "I'm pretty sure we can keep them at bay for a little while. Do what you gotta do." He offered a fist, which Arnold happily accepted, the two of them exchanging their trademark shake.
Arnold's own grin faded a little, though, as he looked at Helga; he could see she was still apprehensive despite his words. Much as he wanted his parents' and grandparents' reunion to be private, a large part of him wished that he could stay and do more to help her troubled mind.
"I'll see you in a few minutes, ok Helga?"
"Hey, no need to rush, Football Head – I have been stuck with you for a couple of days now, ya know." There was no real bite in the girl's mock insult, and Arnold couldn't help but smile. With that, he finally moved to follow his parents, the three of them departing to wait anxiously for Phil and Gertie's arrival.
As soon as they were gone, Helga quickly turned to Gerald. "Take these and stick 'em in your ears." She handed the boy two small wads of tissue. As you'd imagine, he looked at her as though she'd lost her mind.
"Uh, is there a reason for this? I mean, I know they're a little loud in there, but really?"
She simply shrugged, before blocking her own ears as tightly as she could. "Do what you like Geraldo. But it's for your own good – trust me." Uncertain, but going with his gut, the boy begrudgingly started to do the same.
"Uh, do I need some too?" Eduardo asked, perplexed but curious.
Helga looked him right in the eyes. The sound was muffled – hopefully that would be enough. She flashed him her sweetest smile and gave him a quick pat on the back. "Nah, don't sweat it Ed." Before the man could process the odd action any further, and with a final nod of confirmation from Gerald, the girl turned.
Helga opened the door.
For a second, maybe two, the din filling the room came to an abrupt halt as they stepped inside. Every eye in a small sea of familiar faces turned in their direction. It was a very brief moment of peace. But then, just as Helga had predicted:
"BAAABY SISTEEEER!"
Helga stole a glance in Eduardo's direction. Seeing the man clutching his ears, his face pained, she allowed herself a quick, evil smirk.
'Nice surprise, huh Ed?'
A/N As always, if you enjoyed the chapter please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks for reading!