A/N What can I say, except that I hope I've done these reunions justice? As always, huge thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last update - the amount of feedback was amazing, and I appreciate every last bit of it. Thanks for reading, and I really hope you enjoy this chapter.
SILENCING NATURE
Chapter 14 - Across the Hall
Much as Helga hated being called 'Baby Sister', and much as she really hated Olga's usual blubbering theatrics, there was no denying the usefulness of Olga coming with a built-in early warning alarm. The woman apparently learned to hug from watching trash compactors in action, and that was on a day when Helga's life hadn't been in genuine danger. And hearing those two dreaded words, especially at that window-shattering volume, usually meant that a hug was only a second away.
Helga's brain could do a lot with a second.
The first priority was to take as big of a lungful of air as possible; oxygen was about to become a rare and precious resource. Once that was underway, the second priority was doing her best to take in an entire chaotic room in the space of a single instant. After all, if the mob looked too crazed there was still a slim chance that she could make it back out the door – she'd probably need to throw them Gerald as a sacrifice, but such was the law of the jungle... Her eyes quickly took in the scene; from the look of things, there hadn't exactly been too much 'intermingling' between the various groups. Hardly a surprise. And Olga's banshee impression had left every face momentarily wincing in pain.
The soon-to-be sixth grade class of P.S.118 occupied a large corner of the dining room. Curly, still wearing nothing but a leaf skirt while the others had each been given a change of clothes, was several metres up and swinging dangerously from the curtain rail. At least that was normal... Eugene, at a glance, seemed to have shrunk down to his regular size and shape. Harold was kneeling next to... something – it looked a little like a clumsily thrown-together scarecrow with a watermelon for a head. Sid and Stinky were at his side, as usual, their hands on his shoulders. Nadine sat with her back to the wall, clutching an armful of glass jars like a protective mother in a war zone. A bedraggled, fatigued-looking Rhonda, who'd somehow wound up with a bald spot, sat alongside her best friend – she was wearing a tattered, white, hugely oversized Helpers for Humanity t-shirt, and looked as though she might cry. Aaaand, yep – there was Brainy, just... standing there, probably mid-wheeze. It really was good to see that he was ok, considering. But for Helga, the most welcome sight was Phoebe, alive and unharmed. The two of them had a lot to catch up on! The girl was already rushing quickly to her feet, her reactions a little quicker than her classmates'. She had apparently been sitting with a semi-catatonic Mr Simmons. A blanket had been draped over his shoulders, and he was still clinging tightly to his precious Agenda. And rocking slightly.
Standing apart from them were Arnold's grandparents, each with an arm around the other's waist. The fact they were even here was still shocking enough! On the other hand, it really said something about Arnold's grandma that the sight of the octogenarian woman in full combat gear, helmet and all, wasn't surprising in the least... Their free hands, which had been tightly clasped, had fallen to their sides in shock at the new arrivals.
And finally, to Helga's boundless joy, there were the Patakis. Bob's tomato-red face had quickly turned in her direction, the veins on his thick neck popping even more as he did so. He currently had a tight grip on the shirt of an ill-fated Helper for Humanity, apparently the recipient of the thundering rage heard all the way down the hall, and who probably now needed a long sabbatical. Miriam, looking extremely out of her comfort zone and on the brink of passing out (again, normal), had apparently been tending to a weeping Olga. The younger woman's duties as a responsible adult were apparently long forgotten... But more importantly, Olga's desperate, mascara-streaked face and outstretched arms were approaching Helga with roughly the same speed and force as a professional quarterback. Apart from briefly wondering just how Olga still had mascara left to run after being in the jungle so long, Helga could do nothing but wince.
'Oh CRAP, is this gonna hurt...'
"OOF!" Olga dove with a wail, tackling Helga and locking her in an embrace that would make a reticulated python ask for pointers. The younger girl was honestly surprised her eyes didn't bulge out like a squeaky, squeezable dog toy.
"O-oh, my poor, sweet baby sister! Thank goodness you're okaaay!" Olga bawled straight into Helga's ear, far too loud even with the earplug. Honestly, she would have responded – probably venomously – but she couldn't spare the breath. Still, Helga was vaguely able to hear the mass scrambling of feet, the scraping of chairs, and the sound of various familiar voices shouting "Helga!", "Gerald!", or "You're alive!". Needless to say, they weren't at the forefront of her mind.
'Crimeny, my spine! My ribs! My arms!' The girl felt several dull, worrying pops. 'So this is how I die... I KNEW it!'
"Helga!" The shout came from the two remaining adult Patakis in the room. Of all the people to save Helga's life, who'd have ever thought it would be Big Bob? Having released his previous victim – the Helper was now quickly darting from the room, probably to go take stock of his life – he and Miriam had been hot on Olga's heels. Feeling herself being roughly plucked from Olga's grasp and lifted up by a far larger set of arms, Helga had an instant to take in a huge, precious gasp of air before being yanked into a very rare embrace from her parents. She kind of appreciated the gesture, but honestly she wasn't sure what appeal Arnold saw – being pinned between Big Bob and Miriam in a group hug just felt unsettling. In any case, it only lasted a few short seconds before Bob pulled her higher, bringing her to his eye-level. "What in the Beeper Empire were you thinking, girl?! You had us worried sick!" In fairness, Bob's face really was painted with seldom-seen concern, his eyes filled with worry and his thick brow deeply furrowed. The dark red of his skin was fading back to an angry pink. Sadly, he was also reinforcing every single syllable with a hearty shake of the girl in his arms.
"Bob!" Glad as Helga was to have the ability to talk again, her head was starting to spin – she didn't make it back from the jungle intact just to get whiplash now. "I! Am not! A magic! 8-ball!"
With Helga occupied by her family's 'enthusiastic' greetings, Gerald was left to take on the remaining stampede of friends. But unlike Helga, Gerald was lucky – Phoebe was first in line. He only just had time to remove his own earplugs (he'd have to thank Helga later) and open his arms, a wide grin on his face, before the small girl crashed into him for her own tight hug. It didn't quite have Olga's supernatural power behind it, but the spirit was clearly there, and Phoebe was stronger than she looked in her own right. In fact, Gerald was so focussed on returning the warm gesture that he only half-realised how far this went beyond their usual modest contact. Really though, what part of this trip had been in any way ordinary? In that moment, he didn't care – it had been pure instinct, and it felt right. He opened his mouth, ready to make some smooth comment, only for his eyes to suddenly widen at a rapidly-approaching hazard.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Before he could finish frantically raising his hands in protest, his and Phoebe's embrace was abruptly ended by a clumsy, full-speed charge from Harold, quickly followed by Stinky and Sid, taking Gerald off his feet. Apparently none of the other boys were able to recognise a 'moment' when they saw one... As it was, Phoebe could only jump back and watch worriedly as all four became trapped in a messy dogpile, and be glad that she'd somehow escaped the crush. Gerald, on the other hand, could only groan and wonder which of the various nearby limbs were his own. It really didn't help when Curly launched himself on to the top of the heap, apparently not wanting to be left out, bouncing and cackling gleefully.
For a few moments, the air was filled by a deafening, indecipherable roar of shouted questions, the remaining classmates joining the growing crowd by the door and everyone talking at once. The situation was quickly descending into chaos, until a single raised, reedy voice cut over the incredible din.
"Everyone shut your yaps!" The shout was loud and demanding enough to bring the room to a standstill, the only sound being Olga's continued sniffles. Honestly, none of the people that knew him even a little had heard Arnold's grandpa use that tone. Not even Big Bob, and their interactions had hardly been friendly. "All you kids pipe down! Pataki, for Pete's sakes quit shaking your girl before her head comes off!" The old man, and for once he really did seem like an old man, looked desperately back and forth between Helga and Gerald (or at least the parts of Gerald that were visible in the tangle of bodies).
"Where's Arnold?"
Phil reaffirmed his grip on his wife's hand, the woman herself being very uncharacteristically quiet and her own expression one of deep concern. The question slowly started to be echoed around the group. Every eye was suddenly searching for the absent, football-headed boy. Well, almost every eye – Simmons was still seated, mumbling to himself and apparently lost in a dream world, and Bob was obtuse enough to ask "Who?".
"Mr and Mrs Shortman," Eduardo finally stepped forward from his place by the door – once his ears had stopped ringing, he'd been more than happy to stay well clear of the mad scramble, "I don't know if you remember me-"
"Aah!" Sid, who had finally untangled himself, and who was rising to his feet, immediately scrambled backwards and pointed a trembling finger. "It's Lasombra!"
"No!" Helga quickly shouted out, cutting off the sparks of alarm that the boy had set off around the children of the group, as she finally wriggled out of Bob's grasp. Sparing a moment to remove her own earplugs, she waved her hands. "Relax morons – this is the actual Eduardo. Authentic moustache and everything." There were a few murmurs of relief, though Sid still eyed the man with suspicion.
"Oh yeah, and we remember you all right." Phil narrowed his eyes and aimed a bony finger in the man's direction. "Miles' old college buddy. The nice guy who showed up outta the blue and begged our kids to head to the jungle, right before they were never seen again! Where's our Arnold!? I knew we shouldn't of told him he could look you up!"
Eduardo hung his head, hat clasped tightly in his hands. His voice was quiet. "Arnold is just across the hall. I will take you to him right now." He gestured to the door, avoiding the couple's eyes.
"What?" Phil's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why didn't you say so!? And why's the short man in another room? Is he hurt?" His tone took on a edge of panic.
"No! No, he's fine." Eduardo quickly raised his hands, his eyes wide. "It is... complicated. Please, if you would just come with me."
"Well then, what are we standing around for? Move it slowpoke!" Hearing that Arnold was well seemed to finally bring out a trace of Gertie's usual self. Gripping Phil's arm, she began quickly marching him towards the door. The rest of the group looked on as, with a sigh of relief, Eduardo escorted the old couple from the room. It was a moment of confused silence, and not one that lasted long.
"Heeey, what gives?" Harold was the first to speak up. "I wanna see Arnold too!" His words brought forth a round of 'Yeah's.
"If he ain't hurt, then why's he hidin' across the hall?" Stinky questioned, scratching his head.
"Well he's probably embarrassed!" Rhonda took it upon herself to answer. Her usual haughty tone was in place, and her arms were folded, but current 'look' really did detract from the overall effect. "After all, he did get us kidnapped by pirates. And now we've been stuck here all day wearing," she gave a deep shudder, "hand-me-downs... Honestly, he's just lucky we weren't all killed or I would be furious with him!"
Helga suddenly found herself in her first moment of conflict. Her gut reaction had been a toss-up between explaining exactly what would happen to Rhonda if she didn't shut up, or just outright skipping that part and throttling the snarky little princess. But the words caught in her throat, and her fists froze in mid-clench. Helga G. Pataki was not known for leaping to Arnold's defence – at least not publicly. Luckily, Gerald came to the rescue.
"Hey now, it's nothing like that." He rose to his feet, shooting Rhonda a sharp look. "He'll be through in a few minutes – he's just gotta take care of something with his grandma and grandpa first."
Rhonda released a small, impatient 'humph', a hand moving to her hip. "What kind of something?"
"The private kind, Rhondaloid!" Helga finally caved, glaring at the other girl. "So how about you drop it!?" She took a moment of satisfaction from watching Rhonda's jaw drop, a scandalised look quickly spreading across her face, before being startled by yet another pair of arms wrapping around her waist. Apparently going missing for a couple of days was hazardous to her personal space.
"Oh Helga, I'm so glad you're ok!" Helga's hackles lowered slightly on realising the new embrace had come from Phoebe. After all, between Olga and Bob her best friend hadn't really had a chance until now. In a more private setting, Helga might have returned the hug wholeheartedly – she'd been anxiously looking forward to seeing Phoebe all day. Not to mention, there was about a ton of insanity that Helga was desperate to unload as soon as possible. But with this many of their classmates looking on...
"Hey, don't act so surprised Pheebs." Helga compromised, draping an arm around the other girl's shoulders in a casual side-hug, a standard smirk in place. "Takes more than a psychopathic river pirate to take me down ya know." She at least tried her best to send Phoebe a message through her eyes: 'I'm so glad you're ok too!'. To her relief, the gesture seemed to be enough; Phoebe released her with a nod and a small giggle. Suddenly though, the girl's face became serious.
"Really though, Arnold is alright, isn't he? We've been so worried about you all." Helga's smirk couldn't help but soften into a genuine smile; Phoebe's honest concern was touching.
"Yeah Pheebs, Football Head really is fine. He just-"
"Wait a minute!" Bob suddenly, loudly interjected. Helga flinched – she was probably lucky that her family had managed to stay silent even for this long. "That little pest with the weird-shaped head? He's the reason you went running off on your own!? I shoulda known – every time that kid shows up he just causes me trouble!" Helga could only facepalm with a low groan; of all the times for Bob's dense, beeper-centric brain to put two and two together and actually remember who Arnold was, it had to be with nearly all her classmates as witnesses.
"Oh n-no, B, Archie's a nice little boy." Miriam spoke unsteadily, weakly placing a hand on her husband's arm. "He's, uh, he's the one who looked after Helga when she got amnesia from that baseball, remember?"
Bob quirked his brow, looking lost. "She got what now..?"
Helga wondered whether, if she concentrated really hard, she could make a volcano erupt right underneath Big Bob. Just a small one. But no – if it was going to happen, it would've already happened a long time ago. Instead, she growled wearily and rubbed her forehead.
"Amnesia, Dad, as in I lost my memory. Probably the best day of my crummy life..." She muttered the last part acidly, under her breath. It was a lie. The best day of her life, bar none, had been just the day before, mortal jeopardy and all. "And what are you two even doing here? You know the international beeper market's just as dead, right?"
"Hey! Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey, less of that talk, little lady!" Bob aimed a warning finger. "People all over the world are gonna get a clue soon enough, you mark my words. And we're here 'cause we got an SOS call – courtesy of beepers I might add!" He folded his arms, apparently proud to have made his point.
Helga raised a quizzical brow. "An SOS? How the heck..?"
"It was us, Helga!" Phoebe brightly interjected at her side. "I used the sack of beepers you left behind-"
"And my cellphone!" Rhonda sharply interjected, Helga's earlier put-down having left her pouting.
"...And Rhonda's cellphone, to send out a distress call. It was a simple matter of reordering the basic components and incorporating some nearby objects in order to assemble a sufficiently powerful transmitter to send a signal back home."
"Yeah, and then it blew up!" Harold butted in with a wide grin, mimicking an explosion with his arms. "It was awesome!"
"Whoa, seriously?" Gerald gave Phoebe an earnestly awed look. "Phoebe, that's incredible!" The girl glanced away with a shy smile, her cheeks turning pink.
"Arigatō, Gerald. It really was nothing..."
"Huh," Helga turned back to her parents, amazed, "so you guys got the distress call, and you actually came?" She couldn't help but let another small, surprised smile form; to think her parents found out she was in trouble and flew all the way there to try and save her was actually... pretty cool. "Mom, Dad, that's really-"
"You're darn right we came!" Bob cut over her. "No way were we gonna let our Olga get hurt in some God-forsaken jungle." Helga's face immediately fell while Bob put a protective arm around his eldest daughter's shoulders, the older girl giving a clueless, appreciative smile.
'Ooof course...' In that moment, Helga really started to wish that Arnold was there. Then again, if his hand had been nearby, she was pretty sure she wouldn't have the courage to hold it.
"But hey, now that you're back safe and sound we can finally get ourselves out of this dump." Bob pressed on. "You girls wait here – I've gotta track down the bum that flew us out here and make sure he doesn't stiff us on the trip back. And you'd better believe these 'Helper' bozos are gonna cover the tab once I'm through with 'em! You coming, Miriam?"
His wife let out a weary sigh. "Sure, B – right behind you." She was long overdue a smoothie, and there sure weren't any here.
"And hey, uh, Helga." Bob paused as they moved to leave, placing a large hand on his daughter's shoulder. He looked uncomfortable. "Do me a favour and don't run off again, alright? You're gonna give your old man a heart attack."
Miriam then moved in too, kneeling to wrap her own thin arms around Helga's neck once Bob stepped aside. "That's right, Helga sweetie – no more jungle adventures, ok?"
"Uh, sure guys. You got it." Helga awkwardly rubbed her elbow while Miriam stood, not meeting either of her parents' eyes. She didn't know how else to react. But Olga, of course, gave each of them an affectionate goodbye before they left the room.
"Well anyway," Phoebe quickly tried to move the conversation along, barely holding back a sad frown – she had noticed her friend's discomfort, "as I was saying, we were able to subdue our captors and take control of the camp. It was shortly afterwards that the actual Helpers for Humanity located us. We may have caused a, uh, minor explosion that revealed our position." She scratched sheepishly at her cheek. "They escorted us back to town, once Curly had been properly restrained, that is..."
"I shall never apologise for being free!" The boy in question shrieked from the sidelines, having jumped on to the nearest table.
"And now we're all safe and together again! Isn't it just wonderful you guys?" Hearing Eugene's customarily sunny voice for the first time, both Gerald and Helga turned in his direction. They'd heard him talk like that before, and both were prepared to stop him from bursting into song. They quickly recoiled.
"Oh! Eugene, what the heck happened, man!?"
"Crimeny, what were you, attacked by Africanized bees!?"
The red-headed boy might have been back to normal size, but now that they were paying attention for the first time, it was very clear that not everything was well. His skin, from what they could see, seemed almost completely covered in angry-looking, lobster-red blotches. Plus his arms were securely tied to his sides, they had to hope for related reasons... He rolled his eyes, his smile as bright and toothy as ever. "Oh, this? Funny story – once we got back, they gave me a shot to make the swelling go down. Wouldn't you know it, turns out I was allergic to that too! My skin feels like it's being bitten by like a bazillion fire ants. They didn't have any antihistamine, but the guys were swell enough to tie me up to keep me from scratching, so I'm ok! I feel just like brave Odysseus, bound to his mast to resist the sirens' call!" He did his best to strike a dramatic, hands-free pose.
"That's... great, buddy." Gerald managed a forced, reassuring smile and a thumbs-up in the boy's direction. The kid had issues...
Helga, on the other hand, despairingly shook her head. 'Yeah, and Odysseus went insane!' This whole thing was pretty much going as well as she'd expected.'You'd better get in here soon, Arnold – before I lose my mind too.'
"First of all, I promise you that Africanized bees or a bazillion fire ants would be much, much worse." Nadine spoke smartly, a finger raised. The quick, dreamy smile across her face, though, made it apparent that encountering either of those horrors would be a personal dream come true. "Secondly, that's our story – what about you guys? Did you find the Green Eyes? And what happened to Lasombra!?"
At a second round of 'Yeah's, Helga and Gerald exchanged a look. She was worried, but he wasn't - far from it. It looked like it was time for the greatest legend of his young life by far to take its maiden voyage, and he couldn't help but rub his hands together in anticipation, a huge grin forming. He moved away from the door, to the middle of the room – centre stage.
"Well now, it's quite a tale, so you all had better get comfortable. Yo Sid, come here a second!"
Helga looked on with exasperation at Gerald's enthusiasm. She should have guessed that his story-telling instincts would be revved up and raring to go. Still, she figured, better him than her. She watched as Sid, surprised for a brief moment, quickly darted to Gerald's side, nodding and giving short sounds of understanding as the other boy whispered in his ear. The others, more than used to Gerald's expert performances by now, scrambled quickly to claim seats, or to position themselves comfortably on the floor (or in Curly's case, a tabletop) like a good audience. Even Olga daintily sat down to give Gerald her attention, smiling amicably. Helga had to concede – Tall Hair Boy was good at what he did. She found her own place next to Phoebe (who she quickly noticed was giving Gerald a particularly rapt look), and tried to gauge just how quickly she'd be able to break for the door or silence Gerald with a tackle – just in case either became necessary. And then Sid began to speak.
"The legend of the Green-Eyed People will be passed down from kid generation to kid generation, and onward. And Gerald is the keeper of all legends, the teller of all tales. Take it away Gerald!"
Gerald stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Hidden deep within the uncharted jungles of San Lorenzo, there was rumoured to exist a strange and ancient civilisation. A civilisation concealed from the world by mystical forces unknown to modern man. A civilisation tirelessly pursued by both scholars and evildoers alike for its knowledge, and for its treasures. The civilisation," he paused for effect, "of the Green-Eyed People!" His smile widened a little at the round of appreciative 'ooh's and 'aah's he earned with his introduction; he was just warming up. And he had to hope that Arnold would show up at the right moment.
After all – a big reveal makes for one heck of a finale.
Meanwhile, as loud and crazed as things had been in the dining room, the atmosphere across the hall had started out quite the opposite. Quiet – very quiet – and tense. On leaving his friends, Arnold and his parents had found themselves in a small, simple bedroom. The usual for a cheaper hotel; a pair of thin beds with metal frames, a simple wardrobe and dresser combo, a bulky, rabbit-eared television on a single shelf, and a single framed painting of a generic beach at sunset. A doorway led off to a small, unflashy bathroom, and the walls were painted in a colour somewhere between off-white and yellow, leaving the room looking confusingly bright and dull at the same time. Not the finest place for a huge, emotional reunion, but at least it was private... Then again, Arnold had been kind of spoiled; not many people get to dramatically reconnect with their long-lost loved ones in beautiful, ancient jungle cities surrounded by butterflies. They had all entered together, the three Shortmans, and had wordlessly seated themselves on the nearest of the beds. It squeaked. What had then been turning into a drawn-out, nervous silence had finally broken by a strange, shrill sound echoing through the walls, coming from the other room. Whatever it was, it must have been deafening.
"...I don't even know what to say to them."
At his words, Miles' wife and child both looked to him, their faces concerned but understanding. He didn't meet their eyes. The man's hands were grasping and twisting at the fabric above his knees, so tightly that a weaker material might have torn. But Miles' outfit was reliable, his explorer's clothing some of the best money could buy, albeit a few years out of date. They had been so well-prepared.
"I don't either." Stella placed a hand over his, putting a stop to his agitated fretting. "But at least we get to say something to them." He nodded, slightly, and she gave him a gentle nudge. "You know, if it helps, your hair looks perfect." That earned a soft chuckle, and he turned his hand to intertwine his fingers with her own.
Another silence.
"It was good, you know." Arnold finally spoke, anxiously fiddling with his thumbs. His parents turned to him, their expressions questioning. "It's been good. Growing up at the boarding house, I mean. With Grandma and Grandpa. They've always been so great." He actually smiled a little at that. It was so true. They were both pretty crazy in their own way, and sometimes that was hard. There were some things he'd had to learn and do for himself, plus a few things that he knew were missing, and sometimes that had been hard too. But they had raised him, and done everything they could for him, and he'd always felt loved. They had supported and been there for him when it counted, or at least done their level best to be. Yes, he'd always dreamed of finding his parents, but it was never because his grandparents weren't good enough.
"I'll bet they were, son." Miles reached over to lightly tousle his boy's already-messy hair, his fingers lingering for a second over the tiny, blue hat. 'They should never have needed to be. Not like that.'
His hand and thoughts both froze at the sound of a gentle tapping at the door.
A look was exchanged, and final, nervous breaths were drawn. No-one in the room needed words to reach an agreement on which of them would answer. Arnold rose to his feet, his father's touch sliding limply away as he stood. Miles and Stella followed suit, their hands still clasped tightly, the bed creaking horribly to protest their sudden absence. Stepping across the room, Arnold gave one last look back – with a final nod and a small smile of encouragement from his mother, he turned the handle.
"Arnold!"
Before he could breath, before he could even think, Arnold was being drawn through the doorway and hoisted into the air. Arms that by all rights should have been frail, but had never been less-so, pulled him into a tight hold. His grandma and grandpa, each hugging him with all the strength they had. Strangely, from the corner of his eye, he briefly thought he saw Eduardo moving at a pace away down the hall, but he had other things on his mind. He closed his eyes and smiled broadly, his own far shorter arms returning the embrace to both of them as best he could. For now, just for this moment, all nerves and worries were forgotten. It felt wonderful.
"Grandma! Grandpa! I can't believe you're here!" He finally found the words.
"Well of course we're here! Oh, thank goodness you're ok, short man – you scared us half to death! And considering how close we were to begin with, that's really saying something..." His joke aside, Phil sounded as though he was breathing out for the first time in a long while.
"I know... I'm so sorry."
"It doesn't matter, dear." Arnold pulled back to look at his grandma's beaming face while she spoke. He chuckled as she reached up to remove a green army helmet – because of course his grandma had been wearing an army helmet. "What matters is that you're safe!"
"Um, Grandma, Grandpa." he paused to draw a deep breath, his heart pounding and stomach bubbling as he looked into their eyes, "Not just me."
"Eh? What do you-" Phil's words were cut off by the gentle sound of someone clearing their throat. Finally peering into the room beyond the doorway, both he and his wife's eyes fell upon the couple standing close by. A quiet voice spoke.
"Hi Mom. Hi Pop."
The arms that had been holding Arnold up suddenly started to shake, the boy gently being lowered to the ground. He looked up to see Phil's jaw hanging slack, his eyes bulging. Arnold's grandpa seemed to be afraid to blink.
"Wh... Miles? S-Stella? I- You're a-" His eyes became watery, and a hand shot upwards to cover his mouth.
Arnold gently pulled his grandparents a few steps into the room, their movements limp, allowing him to gently close the door behind them. He was watching his grandma carefully, with a small frown; he'd had a sudden, frightening thought. "Grandma, you... you know who this is, right?"
"My boy..?" Gertie's words were whispered, as if too incredible be believed. Her helmet slipped from between loose fingers, and she reached out a hand in her son's direction. "Miles!" The woman moved as she cried out, her first unsteady step or two quickly turning into a frantic dash. Miles barely managed to open his arms and take his own shaky step forward before his mother crashed into him at full force, bringing him into a fierce hold. She clung to him as though she might never let go – Arnold thought he and his mom probably looked similar the previous night. "Ohh, my boy! And Stella too!" The old woman finally pulled back, smiling hugely despite the tears on her face, just enough to place a gentle hand on the cheek of her daughter-in-law.
"Hey Mom." Stella released a broken giggle, one hand moving to cover Gertie's, the other hastily wiping her own eyes.
Phil, meanwhile, had finally regained his own ability to move, and he stumbled forward. Working around his wife, he placed a hand on both Miles and Stella's shoulders. He glanced desperately back and forth between them, speechless. Finally though, his wide eyes locked with his son's own anxious ones for several long moments.
"Holy Toledo, it's a MIRACLE!" Phil burst into elated laughter, a huge grin plastered across his face, and Miles couldn't help but follow suit. An instant later, Phil had done his best to wrap his long arms around the entire group – bouncing slightly, as if barely holding back the urge to dance. "I can't believe it! I never thought I'd see the day! How is this even-" He paused, suddenly turning to stare down at the boy standing close by. "Arnold – you did this? You actually found them?"
Arnold nodded rapidly, but beyond that, he could barely process how to react. For the first time that he could remember, he was looking at his complete family, together at last. It was unreal. "I'm sorry I broke my promise to guys, but I-"
Phil cut him off with another laugh. "Well what are we gonna do, short man? Ground ya? You've done the impossible!" He turned back to Miles and Stella. "But... nine years!? Where in the heck have the two of you been?"
Miles' shamed expression quickly returned. "It's a long story, Pop. But... we got sick, same as the Green-Eyed People. The sleeping sickness."
"Oh dear..." Gertie's hand went to cover her mouth.
"The sleeping sickness?" Phil's jaw dropped all over again as he echoed the words. "You've been asleep this whole time?" He seemed stunned, even more so when the two gave sombre nods of confirmation.
"Arnold saved us." Stella finally spoke, looking to her son with intense pride. "He and his friends found the Green Eyes' city, and finished the cure. They saved all of us."
"We never meant for any of this to happen. We never even should have left." Miles hung his head. "I'm so sorry."
"Miles..." Gertie graciously stepped aside as Phil once again placed his hands on Miles' shoulders, his wrinkled brow furrowed. His grip was firm, like he was still trying to reassure himself that the figure of his son was real. Their eyes locked. "Son, you heard your mother back there. It doesn't matter. We know you never would have left if you thought for a second you wouldn't come back. We've always known that. Whatever happened, happened. The important thing now is that you're both safe. Safe, and coming home at long last." His eyes suddenly widened, and he glanced quickly between his son and daughter-in-law. "You are coming home, right?"
That broke the tension, Miles and Stella each releasing a breathless chuckle. Each nodded heartily before Miles spoke. "Yeah, Pop. We're coming home."
"Good." Phil's shoulder's sagged for a moment while he released a deep exhale. But then, quick as a flash, he released Miles' shoulders and pointed a finger. "'Cause unlike the short man, you two are both grounded!"
Arnold watched on as Phil's declaration brought on another round of laughter (much as the boy suspected his grandpa was dead serious), and the four adults shortly resumed their group embrace. For what felt like the millionth time that day, he tried to process the fact that all of this was real. But, vivid as Arnold's imagination could be, he would never have envisioned something like this; his parents being rescued from the heart of the jungle, his grandparents somehow appearing in San Lorenzo (he'd have to look into that little mystery when they got a minute), and all of them being reunited in a cramped hotel room that smelled of dust. As far as he was concerned, it couldn't have been more perfect.
"What are you waiting for, Tex? Get in here!" His grandma's words snapped him out of his thoughts, the others chuckling at the faraway smile that had spread across the boy's face. Each of them was looking at him lovingly. With a laugh of his own, he happily ran forward to comply. It was long overdue. Three generations of Shortmans were together again, and they had a lot of lost time to make up for.
While Arnold was having the reunion of his dreams, back across the hall Gerald had been giving the performance of his life. His best friend was counting on him to keep the crowd at bay, after all, and that gave him all the excuse he needed to paint a long and detailed picture of their adventure. Not to mention, his mind was working at top speed while he talked to crop, tailor and edit the parts of the story that had been deemed 'Not for Public Use' by the Arnold and Helga censorship committee; an ornate, wide-headed statue removed here, a 'chosen one' redacted there. Oh well – somehow, knowing that it had hidden secrets too wild and bizarre for all but a select few to know made the legend seem even cooler. And there was still more than enough danger and excitement to work with.
And the reactions of his audience were tribute to Gerald's skill. They had gulped and shivered in apprehension while he described their careful navigation of the Green Eyes' traps. They had murmured their amazement as his words painted a picture of the astounding, hidden city, and of the mysterious children that lived there, its grown occupants having all been gripped by the power of a strange and devastating sickness. And they gasped, or even gave dramatic shrieks (thank you Olga and Sid...), as he recounted their frantic battle with the villainous pirate, their terrifying seconds spent dangling from the ruined bridge until Eduardo's timely rescue, and of course, Lasombra's final doom at the hands of his own greed. Also poison.
"S-so, Lasombra's really..? Y'know." Sid, sitting cross-legged, finally felt the need to interrupt – maybe for his own peace of mind – drawing a finger across his neck and making a drawn-out, strangled sound.
"Geez, you're safe, Sid." Helga rolled her eyes, her head resting on her fist. "The big, bad pirate's not gonna come after you, ok?"
"But are you su-"
"We're sure, alright man?" For the first time since the story began, Gerald sounded agitated, and not because he was interrupted. Well, not entirely. It hadn't been said out loud – not by him, not by Helga, not even by Arnold – but the reality of that whole encounter wasn't something he figured any of them would spend a lot of time dwelling on. Lasombra's rabid red eyes and blotched, sickeningly green skin. The same tainted needle that caused all that being stabbed wildly in their direction. The way he just... fell.
The advantage of being the story teller is getting to choose which parts you want to relive. And how.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Baby Sister." The words were practically whispered. Tears were filling Olga's eyes again, and her quivering lips were hidden behind a clenched hand. Her skin had turned a chalky pale somewhere around the point of Lasombra's sudden appearance in the Green Eyes' city.
"Yeah, well, I'm fine, he's fine," Helga waved a hand in Gerald's direction, "Arnold's fine, we're all fine. So just... don't think about it, ok?" Olga didn't respond, which was worrying enough. Much like Gerald, Helga just wanted things to move on. She didn't like this part. "S-so are you actually gonna finish the story, Geraldo? We're not getting any younger here."
"Yeah," Harold chimed in, his face expectant, "what happened to the Coro... The Coruh... The treasure thingy?"
"Right, well..." Gerald cleared his throat again, ready to get back on-track. And this was definitely the time for one of those little 'amendments' to the story. "With Lasombra defeated," he shot Sid a sharp look, "we had finally succeeded in protecting the Corazón from his wicked clutches. With the precious treasure safely recovered," for a brief instant his eyes met with Helga's – she knew what he was doing, and he could see the relief, "we returned to the city in triumph. And this time, we had Eduardo with us. Thanks to his knowledge of the ancient language of the Green-Eyed People, we were able to learn how to perform the ritual that would finally disperse the cure. With the power of the Corazón, and by using an incredible, gigantic, stone machine built into the very heart of the city, the medicine was transformed, creating a huge, thick cloud. At the same time, the roof of every building rolled aside, revealing the poor souls that had been lost to the sickness for so many years." He gave his head a theatrical shake. "All we could do was watch as the cloud started to rain the cure down over the city, and pray that it would work." He chose that moment to take a long pause, his hands behind his back and his eyes closed – he knew how to play the crowd.
"And? Did it work or not!?" Rhonda was the first to break, throwing her arms in the air with exasperation.
"It worked." Gerald grinned widely again at the mass release of breath around the room (Helga, of course, just rolled her eyes), and for one other very important reason. "All around the city, the adults started waking up. The children were reunited with their parents at long last. And just like that, the plague of the sleeping sickness had finally been ended, and the civilisation of the Green Eyes could enjoy peace and happiness once more." He finished with a bow, keeping his last thoughts to himself. 'And that's when things got REALLY freaky.'
"Wait, surely that can't be everything!" Phoebe spoke up first, confused. "What about Arnold's, well..." She trailed off, suddenly wondering if the question was tactful.
"Well after all that, did the Green Eyes wind up knowin' anything about Arnold's folks or not?" Stinky apparently didn't share her concern, although he did politely raise his hand, and neither did the various other kids who offered yet more 'Yeah's to the mix.
'Man, I'm good!' Gerald couldn't help but applaud himself before he answered.
"Ask him yourselves, guys."
As one, the audience turned – none of them, enthralled as they were, had heard the door open. Arnold stood there, and they all knew his grandparents well enough by now. But the other two...
"Hi everyone." Arnold gave a nervous wave, and a sheepish but very excited smile. "Meet my mom and dad."
A/N I'm not sure why I feel that Gertie would have liked Stella to call her 'Mom'... I just do!
So how did I do? Please take a moment to let me know in a review. Thanks again for reading!