A/N Well that turned into a longer break than I expected! Sorry to keep you waiting, and I really hope this chapter is worth it! Thanks as always for all the amazing feedback since the last update, and thanks to those who got in touch to find out when this update would be posted. I hope you enjoy, and please take a moment to let me know if you do!
On a side note, to celebrate this story getting over 100 reviews more than my first fic (not to mention about 20'000 words...), I finally took the time to go back and give A Pataki Christmas Carol a polish. Not a rewrite, just tidying up the small errors here and there that always bugged me. If you don't mind reading a story that's about as out-of-season as it could possibly get, please feel free to give it a look!
SILENCING NATURE
Chapter 15 - An Intense Introduction
It was a pretty funny sight. And at the same time it was a little unsettling, almost intimidating. A room full of children staring at them in stunned silence, wide eyed. The dropping of the group's jaws had been hilariously synchronised. Neither Miles nor Stella could help but feel as though they were on display, like they were some kind of inexplicable, alien oddity that had just crashed into the hotel. Honestly, they weren't sure if they wanted to gulp or giggle.
The truth, not that either of them had said it out loud, was that they were nervous. Nervous and excited all at once. And could they really be blamed? Gerald and Helga aside, this dining room full of kids was the first group of new people that they'd introduced themselves to in nearly a decade. Their first time being surrounded by a crowd that weren't Green-Eyed natives. But more than that, they were Arnold's people – the people their son had actually grown up with. His friends. From the way he spoke earlier, each of them was clearly important to him, and each of them might well have known Arnold better than Miles and Stella knew their own son, at least for now. They felt an odd pressure to make a good first impression. How strange for a pair of grown adults to be so afraid of the judgement of children... The fact that Arnold was with them came as a big comfort. Helga and Gerald's presences were reassuring too, even if Helga did look kind of uneasy for some reason... Familiar faces in an unfamiliar crowd. Given all this, it was Miles who hit on the realisation first, with a tiny cringe.
'Oh God – it's like the first day of school...'
Arnold's shy introduction, 'meet my mom and dad', might as well have been a teacher introducing a pair of anxious new students to the class. 'So everyone be extra nice to Miles and Stella, and make sure they feel welcome!' Cue spitballs. The notion made his decision easier – he gulped. And it didn't help at all that he could hear his own dad barely stifling a giggle behind him.
"Oh my goodness..." Phoebe was the first to recover, to a point. Her hand moved to cover her mouth as she spoke, her voice practically a whisper. She spared a questioning glance in her best friend's direction, her eyes widening even further at Helga's small smile and nod of confirmation.
Phoebe's words set off a ripple of similar murmurs and gasps through the crowd, and the children began to overcome their shocked paralysis. They slowly rose to their feet, each of them keeping their eyes glued to the new couple, their gazes a mixture of confusion and disbelief as they crossed the room towards their finally reunited friend. Privately, Gerald and Helga BOTH envied Arnold a little just then – their own welcomes from the group had been a good deal... rougher. Having the rug pulled out from under the mob by the surprise to end all surprises definitely seemed better than being tackled, shaken, crushed or otherwise manhandled. Heck, even Curly had apparently been stunned into a state of (no doubt temporary) calm. It probably helped that Miles and Stella looked like a pair of awesome, battle-worn explorers straight out of an adventure novel – the only things missing were a couple of fedoras.
"Whillikers, Arnold – you really found 'em?" Stinky was the first to address Arnold, placing a hand on the far shorter boy's shoulder.
"I don't get it." Harold scratched his head. "I thought Arnold's mom and dad were... Y'know..."
Rhonda gave the large boy's arm a very half-hearted swat, not even glancing in his direction. "Well apparently not, Harold." She hissed in a low voice.
"This is like something out of a movie!" Eugene quietly breathed out. His eyes were glistening, his face beaming, and he just about managed to clasp his hands together despite his bonds.
"Don't start singing, Eugene..." Gerald warned, wearily shaking his head.
Arnold took all of this in with a widening smile. He didn't even know what to say. Honestly, he'd been afraid – afraid that his friends would still hate him for their imprisonment, afraid that they had been somehow hurt. But seeing them all safe and sound filled him with a relief that he could barely describe, and the way that they were staring at his parents with such blatant amazement was overwhelming. While he wouldn't like to admit it, Arnold couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest. Having caught the end of Gerald's newest legend, he knew the group had heard the incredible story, or at least most of it. But where to even begin from here?
He at least managed to answer Stinky with a rapid nod, his grin practically ear-to-ear by this point. He took a shaky, calming breath and looked over the group. "Guys, let me introduce you to my parents. M-Miles and Stella." He quickly added the last part and faltered a little, finding it weird to use his mom and dad's first names – this was brand new to him, after all, but it just seemed like the formal thing to do. "Mom, Dad, this is, uh, everybody." He gestured to the group, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck. Though his smile didn't fade, the reality of the task suddenly seemed a little harder to wrap his head around. How did people usually do this? Was he supposed to introduce people one by one, or..?
It was Stella who came to the rescue, steeling her nerves and stepping forward with a small chuckle – she hoped it didn't sound uneasy. "It's very nice to meet you all. Arnold's been telling us about you. Let's see..." She tapped her lip and decided to start with the lanky boy who had first spoken to her son, turning to him with a kind smile. "I think you must be... Stinky, right?"
Stinky's mouth moved silently for a few short moments before he managed to form words. "Uh, y-yes ma'am, Stinky Peterson – pleasure to make your acquaintance." Stella laughed again as the young boy offered a gentlemanly hand for her to shake. His eyes widened when she actually accepted – she suspected that she'd just proven she wasn't a ghost.
"The pleasure's all ours." Miles chuckled too, his wife's confidence easing his anxiety. He moved to her side, accepting a handshake of his own. His other arm moved around Stella's shoulder, letting her be his mooring. With his words, and for the second time that day, a dam crumbled. As if freed from a spell, each of the remaining children broke from their dumbfounded trance, rushed forward and began excitedly racing to introduce themselves to the unbelievable newcomers. Only Gerald and Helga hung back, watching the scene with some amusement; Miles and Stella had suddenly found themselves swamped.
"Thaddeus Gammelthorpe, but please call me Curly." The boy offered a bow and an unsettlingly large grin. Faced with his leaf skirt – and what appeared to be a spork holding up his hair – the couple honestly didn't know how to respond.
"I'm Eugene – oh, don't worry, I'm ok! Just a little 'off-colour', haha!" Miles, Stella and Arnold had all immediately given looks of shock at the ill-fated boy's condition. "My gosh, it's wonderful to meet you – I'd shake your hands but, well..." He gave his bound hands a small wave and offered an apologetic shrug.
"Rhonda. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd." The girl did her best to put on her usual airs, current appearances aside. "Absolutely charmed to meet you, and so sorry to do it under these..." she glanced down at her outfit again, a hand semi-consciously travelling to the patch of exposed scalp on her head. Her lower lip trembled for a moment. "...conditions."
"Uh... Hey." Brainy, grinning and breathing heavily, offered them a small wave, which they awkwardly returned before he vanished back into the crowd.
One by one, faces were put to the names Arnold had described, and it wasn't long before Arnold's parents and the class of P.S.118 had become formally acquainted. Not to mention, Miles and Stella had now seen a small glimpse of each of the children's unique quirks. Some more extreme than others… It was quite an intense introduction to their son's world! But once Phoebe, last in line, had finished offering her own polite, awestruck greeting, Stella's attention was drawn to the unfamiliar woman who stood with the group. She turned to her, suddenly embarrassed to have given the children so much focus.
"Oh, I'm sorry – are you Arnold's teacher?" Stella managed to maintain her smile without bursting into giggles, despite the fact that the young woman had enough mascara streaked down her face to resemble tribal warpaint.
"Y-yes!" Olga shook herself slightly – she had been as stupefied as the rest of the group, her role utterly forgotten, until Stella's words reminded her of her responsibilities. Finding her composure, she stepped hastily forward, clearing her throat and offering Stella a hand. "Well, student teacher. I'm Olga Pataki."
"Pataki?" Stella cocked her head in confusion for a moment as she accepted the shake, before looking back and forth between Olga and Helga. This woman certainly didn't seem old enough to be Helga's mother, and it didn't escape her notice that Helga had seemed strangely quiet up to now. Compared to what she'd seen of the girl in their brief time together, that is. Actually, Helga was looking more anxious than ever. "Are, uh..." With a small, worried frown, Stella tore her eyes away from the blonde girl, and back in Olga's direction. "Are you related to Helga?"
"Why, yes!" Olga's face immediately brightened, despite her confusion. She clasped her hands and shot Helga a saccharine smile. "Helga is my baby sister!"
"You're her sister?" Miles couldn't help but echo as he joined the conversation, his brow raised in surprise. He turned to the young girl. "Helga, you never mentioned that your sister was on this trip too."
"Must have slipped my mind." Helga offered through gritted teeth. She'd been bracing herself for this, not that it did much good. It may have been a step better than Arnold's parents meeting the entire Pataki clan in one fell, possibly lethal swoop, but Olga could be plenty dangerous on her own. Helga could concede that her sister usually meant well, but she also held a catalogue of just about every embarrassing moment from Helga's early years. And given her proven ability to cluelessly overshare from that very same catalogue, Olga was basically the equivalent of an infant playing whack-a-mole next to a nuclear launch button... Besides, thanks to their brief period of isolation together, and by some act of divine intervention, Miles and Stella actually liked Helga; the last thing the girl wanted was to start hearing them compare her to Olga too.
"Oh. Well… I imagine that's understandable." A small look of hurt passed across Olga's face. "After all, I'm sure she was terribly scared and confused after everything that happened. Being lost in the jungle, and being attacked by that awful man, it must have all been so… so horrible!" The last word was a barely-decipherable, high-pitched squeak. Olga's eyes had started welling up again.
Miles and Stella shared a brief look while Olga tried to collect herself, their brows raised. Scared and confused? From what they'd seen, Helga was a little… flighty for some reason, but neither of them would ever have chosen those words to describe the girl. From what they'd been told, she hadn't even hesitated to charge into battle with Lasombra. Not to mention, she'd had the wherewithal to offer a suitable 'substitute' for the missing heart. She'd even helped practically frogmarch them to Eduardo's boat that very morning! Was this woman sure they were talking about the same person? And now her mascara was running again… A glance in Helga's direction saw the girl simply looking weary, her eyes closed and an arm folded, slowly massaging her temple with her fingers. She may have been mentally counting to ten.
"Sorry," Stella quickly pressed on, eager to try and snap the woman out of her small breakdown, "but did you say student teacher? Isn't the class' regular teacher with you too?"
"Ohh, that'd be the 'Amazing Agenda Boy' over there." Phil answered for her, cutting in with a voice full of sarcasm and jerking a thumb towards Mr Simmons. Miles and Stella's jaws dropped all over again. The man was still seated at his table, unshaven and grinning madly, staring into space. His eye would twitch every now and then... But what really creeped Stella out was the way he kept blinking with one eye at a time – she'd always hated that.
"He can't say I didn't warn him." Phil continued, shaking his head at the sight, his hands on his hips. "Travel with a dozen kids and there's a 50:50 chance at least one of 'em will get captured by pirates! Back in my day teachers knew to expect that sort of thing... Anyway, he calmed down some after we convinced him to leave his troop of monkeys behind, but I'm waiting till he's more coherent to really give him the 'I told you so'."
"That's... that's great, Pop." Miles rubbed his forehead – once again, he and his wife had been faced with something to which they just didn't know how to respond. But Arnold's teacher apparently needed a lot of therapy, and Miles definitely wasn't going to press for more details about the monkeys... He tried to get back on track, seeing Olga finally drying her eyes. "Well, uh, in any case, it's nice to meet you Ms Pataki. Helga's made quite an impression on us!"
"She has?" Olga's still-damp face broke into a delighted – if slightly wobbly – smile. "That's so fantastic! Helga's usually has such trouble making-"
"TIME!" Helga practically screamed, suddenly appearing between the two parties. Anyone looking closely enough might have seen the girl's forehead starting to sweat. "Making time to, uhh, meet new people! So busy – school, sports, potentially lethal jungle adventures – you know how it is nowadays." She flinched. "Or… maybe you don't…" She fought to recover, mentally kicking herself. "But yep, Olga – Arnold's parents, Arnold's parents – Olga. Lovely that everyone's been properly introduced!" Helga paused to breathe (a little too heavily), wearing a forced, desperate grin. The silence drew out for longer than was comfortable, and she was already getting plenty of concerned or curious looks from the group. This included Arnold – her words from outside were still very much with him, and he wished he could ease her discomfort.
"Aren't your mom and dad here too, Helga?" He at least tried to offer her an escape from the awkward moment, looking around as if Big Bob Pataki was an easy person to miss. "I thought we heard Mr Pataki… talking back down the hall." He tactfully avoided more fitting terms, like 'roaring', 'bellowing' or 'erupting'.
Helga would never have guessed that Arnold bringing up the topic of Bob and Miriam of all things could make her want to just kiss him... But instead, she nodded eagerly, deeply grateful for the chance to move the conversation along. "Uh, yeah, but they headed out. Something about getting us a ride home." She shrugged. "Guess they'll be back soon." Not too soon, she had to hope.
"Well that's good." Stella tried another kind smile. "I'm sure it'll be great to meet them."
"Pfft!" Phil instantly released a loud snort. He hastily cleared his throat. "Ahem! Heh, sorry about that." He gave his chest a couple of quick thumps. "Must be this tropical air."
"Gesundheit." Helga tried to contain the withering look she wanted to send in Arnold's grandpa's direction. "And yeah, it's sure to be a real blast..." She glanced away as she considered her poor choice of words. 'A freaking blast alright – also known as an 'explosion', 'detonation', or 'demolition'!' Helga mentally groaned – Miles and Stella had only been in the same room as the other people in her life for a couple of minutes, and her heart was already pounding. She'd made herself look like a lunatic once, and all that took was about three sentences from Olga! Who knew how quickly she'd crumble once the rest of P.S.118's resident circus act decided to open their mouths too? They were already watching this whole scene like it was some kind of surreal soap opera… No, the best course of action when there's a risk of explosion is to evacuate – usually in a calm and orderly fashion, but when all else fails, run for the hills and don't look back. She'd successfully done her part in buying Arnold his time, hadn't she? And now she deserved a break; an escape to let the attention move back to him and his parents, and away from any and all things Pataki-related. All she needed was an opportunity. And it needed to happen soon, before Miles or Stella could ask for more details about the wonderful Bob and Miriam. Or before Olga could offer more choice revelations about Helga herself. Or before her classmates could think to question why she'd gone a full two minutes without berating Arnold! Honestly, having all these anxieties flying around her head was like juggling mental chainsaws…
While Helga fretted, Arnold frowned in sympathy. He knew well enough that her parents could be difficult – he'd had more than a few run-ins with Big Bob, after all. He wanted to offer reassurance, some words of comfort, but with this many of their friends listening in, he had to assume that would just make Helga even more uncomfortable. "Well anyway…" He instead chose to address the onlooking group; he suspected he had some explaining to do. "I know all of this must seem really strange, but I'm so happy that you guys are all safe. I feel terrible about what happened-"
"Arnold, Arnold, Arnold." Rhonda held up a hand and shook her head, stopping him in his tracks. Like the others, she'd been watching the exchange enthralled, unsure of what to say until now. Seeing Arnold's parents talking to Olga as if they were just normal people was downright bizarre, and yes, on any other occasion Helga's odd behaviour may have warranted a comment, but right now there were more pressing matters to deal with. "Yes, we're all miraculously ok. Relatively speaking." She spared a quick, worried glance in Simmons' direction. "And yes, I'm sure you're very sorry. That's all well and good. But get a sense of priorities – you just walked in here with your parents! Your actual parents! And you're going to stand there and call it strange?" She threw her arms up. "This. Is. Huge! You have to tell us how this happened!"
Nadine winced at her best friend's increasingly loud and demanding tone, considering present company, and placed what she hoped was a calming hand on Rhonda's shoulder. She turned to Miles and Stella. "What Rhonda means to say, uh… Mr and Mrs Shortman… is that it's kind of a big surprise to see you." Her eyes widened. "Here, I mean! To see you here. How, uh..? Where..?" She looked to her classmates, hoping for a rescue. The same question was written on each of their faces, but how to ask it tactfully? The truth was that none of them had assumed Arnold's mom and dad were still 'around'. He'd always just had his grandparents, as far back as any of them had known him. Before this trip, Arnold had barely even talked about them! What on Earth had they been doing this whole time?
"Oooh, I got it! You were both asleep too, right?!" All eyes turned to Harold, who had suddenly burst into a wide, proud grin while excitedly pointing a finger in the couple's direction. He looked as though a lit bulb should have popped into existence over his head. But his smile faltered into a pout at the looks he was getting from his friends – a combination of dawning realisation and deep surprise. "What? I mean, if they were helping the Green-Eyed People like Gerald said, and they all fell asleep… Hey, I can work stuff out too ya know!" He crossed his arms in a sulk.
"Whoa. Is that really what happened, Arnold?" The question had come from Sid, though the whole group turned back the football-headed boy with expectant faces.
"Yeah." Arnold nodded, looking up to exchange a regretful glance with his parents. "It was the sleeping sickness. But when we woke up the Green Eyes, we woke up my mom and dad too." Still meeting their eyes, a smile began pull at the corner of his lips. It felt good to say it out loud. He heard a ripple of amazed murmurs and 'wow's pass through the small crowd, each of his friends processing this latest revelation.
"That's incredible, Arnold." Phoebe was beyond astounded. "To think that your parents were simply incapacitated here this whole time. To think this trip actually allowed you to recover them!" Though it didn't seem appropriate to voice them at the time, the back of her scientific mind was already cranking out questions about the sleeping sickness itself. After that length of inactivity, how could Arnold's parents even walk? It was truly fascinating.
Eugene, meanwhile, sighed dreamily. "Being woken from a deep and endless sleep. Never mind a movie – this is like something out of a fairy tale!"
"Hey now," Gerald smirked, "am I the 'Keeper of all Fairy Tales'? I think we've established that this is a legend, people."
"I reckon Gerald's right, Eugene, seein' how they was woken up by medicine instead of true love's kiss and all." Stinky mused, rubbing his chin. "Probably a good thing too – I don't see how it'd be supposed to work if both the folks in love were asleep."
"Well if my true love catches the sleeping sickness, I'll still be sure to give the kiss a try." Curly spoke, before leaning brazenly into Rhonda's personal space and wiggling his brows. "Care to practice, love muffin?"
"Augh!" The girl was quick to push him back, with a look of disgust. "Not even in your dreams you little creep!" She crossed her arms and scowled, muttering something under her breath about never sleeping again.
"Wait, could we catch it? If you had the sleeping sickness this whole time, does that mean you're still contagious?" Sid questioned Arnold's parents, suddenly looking wary. His germ phobia may have been short-lived, but that didn't stop him from taking a less-than-subtle step backwards. Miles and Stella opened their mouths to speak, ready to give the boy their reassurance, but were cut off by Phil appearing at Miles' shoulder.
"Ooh, they're contagious alright! Highly contagious!" He spread his arms wide, sounding frantic. "We've all been exposed already! We'll have to spend the next ten years quarantined right here in this room, eating sterilised hospital food and getting hosed down twice a day by men in white hazmat suits! Well, me and Pookie probably won't last that long, but the rest of you better settle in – hope one of ya brought checkers!"
"Grandpa!" Arnold immediately protested, as Sid fell to his knees with a horrified shriek. "None of that's true, Sid! They aren't contagious, they're cured! And the sickness didn't even affect kids, remember?" Unfortunately, the damage had been done.
"I don't wanna eat hospital food!" Sid cried. Eugene's insistence that hospital food could be pretty tasty only seemed to make things worse.
"Was that really necessary?" Miles sent his father an admonishing look, while Arnold moved to his distraught friend's side. The old man had immediately burst into a fit of cackling laughter, clutching his knees.
Phil took a breath, wiping a tear from his eye, "Son, part of being old is embracing your ability to scare the living daylights out of the young." He shrugged. "Besides, I've been stuck in here bored and worried all day with your mother, and that squirrely kid makes it easy."
"I had my travel checkers IN MY HAND and I left it at HOME!"
Miles could only wonder just whatever had possessed him to think the boarding house was a more stable environment to raise his son…
Meanwhile, as her classmates worked to try and console the traumatised Sid – or were at least busy shaking their heads at the display – Helga realised that the moment she'd been waiting for had arrived. She couldn't cause a scene with yet another sudden vanishing act if Sid was already causing one, and most of the room was conveniently distracted. Even Miles and Phil were apparently busy debating the moral ethics of horrifying ten-year-olds. Perfect. And best of all, she could see a way to kill two birds with one stone.
Doing her best to remain casual, hands behind her back, she sidled up to her best friend. "Hey, now that I think about it, after that long trip back I could really use the restroom. Mind showing me where it is, Phoebe?" When the girl turned to her, she saw that Helga's eyes were wide, her expression subtly pleading.
"Now?" Phoebe's mouth briefly hung open. One of the greatest bombs of their young lives had just dropped – Arnold's actual parents – and Sid's theatrics aside, she really didn't feel like leaving the room! She quickly glanced back and forth between Helga and the couple. "B-but Helga, I- Eek!" In an instant, Helga had seized the smaller girl's wrist and practically sprinted them towards the exit.
"Thanks Pheebs!"
The smaller girl's fraught voice briefly drifted back through, just before the door swung shut in their wake. "Showing..!"
The handful of people that noticed the girls' abrupt departure could only blink for a few moments, with the exception of Gertie, who gave an amicable little wave towards the closed door. "Ta-ta, Eleanor!" She turned to the remaining women with a smile. "Such a busy young lady."
"Oh dear." Olga brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes filled with worry. "I hope all this excitement hasn't aggravated her gastrointestinal problem..." She murmured to herself, not nearly quietly enough – it was a mercy that Helga's classmates were preoccupied. But Stella's eyes, which had already been fairly wide thanks to Helga's latest escape, couldn't help but bulge for an instant. Between the fountain of tears and comments like that, she was starting to connect a few dots…
"Ms Pataki? Um, Olga? Don't you think you ought to try and calm your student down?" She tried to draw the woman's attention back to the matter at hand. Olga was apparently the class' main source of adult supervision, after all.
"Hmm?" Olga blinked before turning from the door "Oh. Yes – yes, of course…" Her student? She looked to the group of children – they were dishevelled, exhausted, had nothing left but the (kindly donated) clothes on their backs, and were currently trying to help one of their own through a moderate panic attack. They had been through an inconceivable ordeal, forced to think and fight their way to freedom from a jungle prison. And her main contribution, as their teacher and guardian, had been to let Curly climb on her shoulders like a feral spider monkey. Oh, and to distract the guards… She hadn't even been able to protect her baby sister, let alone the rest of her class. Stella couldn't help but notice the expression that passed across Olga's face then – one of embarrassment, and more than a little shame.
"Are you alright?"
Again, Stella's words snapped Olga out of her thoughts. This time they had been quieter, and touched with genuine concern. "Yes, I'm fine. I just feel like I-" The woman caught herself, shaking her head slightly. Pushing her negativity down, she instead turned to Stella and Gertie with a smile – she was good at those. "It's just been a very long trip. Oh, Sid!" She finally hastened in the direction of the children. "Please calm down – I'm sure Mr Shortman was joking. Nobody's coming to hose you down. No, Harold, we aren't all getting hospital food…"
In the end, Sid was finally calmed after Olga escorted him to a quiet corner. He might have still needed time to recover from his small breakdown, or he might have simply been enjoying the way she comfortingly patted his hand. She did have to assert once or twice that, no – holding him wouldn't be appropriate. The rest of the group was finally able to return to normal conversation. Well, as 'normal' as the conversation could possibly be considering the circumstances. Arnold was quick to notice Helga's sudden absence of course – it was hardly surprising considering how uncomfortable she'd looked not long before – and he immediately noticed Phoebe's by extension. He suddenly found himself wondering just how much Helga would elect to share with her own best friend. It wasn't as if they'd discussed it while coming up with their 'party line', as Helga had called it. The truth was that it did seem only fair that Phoebe be allowed into the loop; Arnold had Gerald after all, and with so much weighing on his mind, courtesy of the last few days, he was extremely glad of it. Helga deserved the same. But he still couldn't help but be nervous at the idea of Phoebe getting the full story. Gerald had been there; he'd seen the shrines and heard the chants, and he'd made it abundantly clear that he could still barely believe it! How in the world was Phoebe supposed to hear the story second-hand without thinking they'd all gone insane? And even then, even besides all the bizarre worship and mystical weirdness, there was still the great big personal aspect of their adventure to consider. If there was anyone, anyone at all that Helga would tell about what happened between the two of them (and was in fact still happening), it would surely be her best friend. Phoebe could be hearing the details at that very moment, specific details even Gerald hadn't yet been made privy to, and that thought left Arnold feeling decidedly bashful…
But in the end, he decided, it was up to Helga. He trusted her, and if she trusted Phoebe, that had to be good enough.
Rather than dwell on it, Arnold instead listened in amazement to the story of his friends' own dramatic escape from Lasombra's encampment – Phoebe herself might not have been on-hand to describe the precise technical aspects this time, but Gerald made very sure to emphasise how crucial her genius had been to the plan. And in return, Arnold described his own version of the previous day's incredible events, not that he shared Gerald's storytelling flair. It didn't stop his friends from sending a barrage of questions his way, and he answered honestly where he could. It was lucky that Gerald's redactions had been so thorough, considering Arnold's flimsy-at-best skills in the art of deception. And, as one might imagine given their sudden celebrity status, Arnold's parents received much the same treatment. The remaining children clearly didn't share the trepidation Arnold had felt when it came to interrogating the couple.
"Did the Green-Eyed People have any native dances you could teach us?"
"If you were asleep, does that mean you haven't eaten in nine whole years?!"
"Have y'all ever swung across a ravine with a whip like that feller in the movies?"
"Have you seen many interesting insects during your travels? I found these just today!"
That last question had been accompanied by Nadine proudly presenting several of her precious jars; their various inhabitants crawled, skittered and waved their numerous legs and antennae in greeting. Miles and Stella both recoiled a little when they came face-to-face with a particularly large and hairy eight-legged specimen.
"Nadine, what did we agree about you shoving your bugs in people's faces?" Rhonda immediately swooped in to chastise her friend.
"Not to… Unless they're pirates." Nadine withdrew the jar, looking sheepish. The last part of the rule had been a recent, mutually agreed-upon amendment. She looked back up to Miles and Stella. "I'm sorry. Do you not like spiders?"
"Oh no, it's ok!" Stella quickly waved her hands – they hadn't meant to put the enthusiastic girl out. "It's just that we had an experience a few years ago that was kind of… offputting."
"Yeesh." Miles closed his eyes and shuddered at the memory. "Who the heck makes a Temple of the Sacred Spider, anyway? There must have been thousands of them in there. Millions, maybe." He and his wife shared a grimace. Suddenly though, he felt a tug at his sleeve – turning back, he saw that Nadine was clenching at his arm. Her eyes were huge, and her jaw was hanging open. She was practically drooling…
"Tell me where!" Her voice came out as an awed whisper.
"Uhh… A couple of hundred miles back-" Miles stopped abruptly when his eyes fell on Rhonda, who was frantically waving her hands and mouthing the word 'no' behind her best friend's back. Getting the budding entomologist to leave San Lorenzo was going to be challenging enough as it was! He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "You know what? It was so long ago that I can't quite remember. Sorry…"
"Really?" Nadine's face fell. "Are you-"
"There, there, Nadine." Rhonda quickly placed an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Just think – when we get home, we can go to that place in the park you love so much! The spot with all the fallen logs? You know how many… delightful little creatures you always find under there." She pulled Nadine away and began leading her back to her seat, sparing a moment to send an embarrassed grin back in Miles and Stella's direction and mouth the word 'sorry'.
"B-but… But millions of them..!" Nadine mumbled as she sat back down – apparently the notion left her downright dazed. Rhonda could do nothing but gently rub her best friend's back and let her ride it out…
The rest of the small group had been watching the whole exchange with raised brows. No-one was sure, for a while, how to react. It was Stinky, though, who finally turned to Arnold with an impressed smile.
"Wow, Arnold – your folks are so exciting that they've done broke Sid and Nadine! I bet you're pleased as punch to get them back."
Arnold wasn't too sure that he agreed with Stinky's logic… All the same, the boy was very right. "It feels amazing, Stinky." He nodded. "I can't even describe it! It's like this bad feeling I always sort of had, like something was always missing, is just gone now." Arnold flushed – he hoped that hadn't sounded too sappy. All the same, he was smiling. "It feels really, really great."
Fortunately, Stinky simply nodded, looking thoughtful. "Well that makes sense. I reckon the rest of us all felt about the same when the three of you went missing. Having us all back together feels pretty darn sweet!"
"Really? You guys were all that worried about us?" Considering the way they'd had to leave, and especially considering the way things had been beforehand, the idea made Arnold feel gratified and guilty all at once.
"Even Helga?" Gerald couldn't help but add on the joke. It earned a small glare from his best friend. "Sorry…"
"Well of course, guys!" Eugene brightly responded. "We're a tribe, after all! We were all worried sick about you, and we're all so relieved that you're back safe and sound. You know, poor Harold was particularly inconsolable while you were gone, Arnold. He missed you terribly." He sent a caring, sympathetic look in the older boy's direction.
"Hey, I did not!" Harold immediately denied, turning away with a blush.
"Oh yeah?" Gerald quirked a brow, a playful smirk on his face. "What's that over there?" He jerked a thumb in the direction of the bizarre scarecrow that stood in the corner; a more physical than usual elephant in the room.
"Nothin'…"
"Kinda looks like Arnold, man." Gerald pressed on.
"No it doesn't!" Harold protested.
"Is… is its head a watermelon?" Arnold queried, tilting his head as he took in the strange likeness. It didn't have the same ornate touches as the Green Eyes' numerous shrines, but it was still pretty odd.
"Uhh… maybe?" The question seemed to only increase Harold's embarrassment.
"Why are there bites out of the watermelon, Harold?"
There was an uncomfortable silence as each of the other boys turned their gaze towards Harold, waiting for his answer. He was determinedly avoiding meeting their eyes.
"Yeah, Harold. Why are there bites out of Melon Arnold?" Gerald finally echoed the question.
"…I was hungry…" Hearing the boy's eventual muttered response, Gerald briefly thought about asking whether the bites were taken before or after the large fruit became a tribute to his best friend's head, but he figured the answer would only trouble him further.
"He's been kneeling in front of it all morning." Curly revealed from his latest table, his head resting on his fist.
"I have not!" The large boy quickly wheeled back round, and tried a menacing look.
"And crying!" Curly added, undeterred.
"I have not!" Harold repeated, waving a warning fist in the other boy's direction. He was just about at breaking point, and his voice showed it. "I didn't care at all that Arnold and the other guys were missing, or that that jerk Lasombra was after them, or that I might've never seen them again! I just made that dumb melon thing 'cause… 'cause…" He trailed off, a suitable answer eluding him. His lip was shaking.
"It's ok, Harold!" Eugene reassured, doing his best to pat his friend's back despite his bindings. "There's absolutely nothing shameful about showing your softer side."
"Aaaaww!" With a cry, Harold finally snapped. Jumping to his feet, he rushed forward and pulled Arnold up into a very unexpected and decidedly bone-crushing hug. His eyes were tightly closed, and tearful. "If you ever scare me like that again, I'll POUND ya!"
"O-ok, Harold," Arnold managed to choke out, despite the sudden lack of air, "I promise." He was deeply touched by his friend's concern, really. He'd just be more touched when he could draw breath again. Eventually, to Arnold's relief, he was gently lowered to the ground. Harold's large arms released their grip, though the boy was still sniffling.
"Feel better now, buddy?" Gerald kindly asked from the sidelines.
"Yeah…" A few more sniffles, and Harold used an arm to wipe his running nose. There was another brief, awkward pause, until Gerald spoke up again.
"Do you wanna go eat the rest of Melon Arnold?"
"…Yeah."
With that, Harold hastily moved off in the direction of the now-doomed little scarecrow. Arnold was left to catch his breath, check for any broken ribs, and wonder just how this day could get any stranger. Looking around the room, he tried to process how what he was seeing could ever have been possible. Reuniting with his parents had been a dream – one he'd had regularly throughout his life – and suddenly, here they were. His dad was a few feet away, shyly asking Gertie whether they could have his favourite raspberry cobbler on their return to Hillwood (she heartily agreed, smiling menacingly at her husband all the while). His mom was across the room, giving Rhonda tips on how to keep one's hair manageable in even the most humid of climates. He had wondered whether he'd ever see his friends again, and wasn't sure they'd want to see him if he did, and now they were all around him, happy, laughing and joking together. Watching his family and classmates interacting was like fantasy and reality impossibly blending into one. And to cap it all, his lifelong bully and alleged soulmate was somewhere down the hall, probably giving her best friend a long and detailed breakdown of how he'd declared his love to her. Oh, and that they were great and powerful super-spirits that a secretive Central American culture worship as gods on Earth... He couldn't help but blink and shake his head – hadn't this all started with a video contest?! It was only when a large, sticky hand tapped him on the shoulder that he was able to snap out of his zoned-out state, and Arnold turned to see Harold grinning widely. His mouth and cheeks were coated with pink juice and dotted with black seeds, and he held out what was now about twenty percent of a watermelon in Arnold's direction.
"Want some?"
It turned out Melon Arnold was pretty tasty so long as Original Arnold didn't think about it too much.
And, as it happened, his timing hadn't been too far off. As soon as the door to the dining room had closed, and with her best friend firmly in tow, Helga had marched determinedly down the otherwise empty hallway. She didn't exactly have a destination in mind, but she'd know it when she saw it. She was silent, save for the sounds of her rapid footfalls.
"Uh, Helga?" Phoebe struggled to keep up, even if she was being pulled. "The lavatory was back in the other direction."
The blonde girl gave no response, and didn't slow her stride one bit. At least, not until she finally found what she was looking for; a closet. Seeing the door standing ajar, Helga finally came to a halt, gently pushing it to peer carefully into the tiny room behind. Though it was fairly small, and decidedly dark, she was able to take in the familiar sight of mops, brooms and vacuum cleaners lining the walls. The shelves were stacked high with cleaning tools and bottled chemicals, just like home. And also just like home, there was even a small desk (well, a fold-out table, really), strewn with discarded papers and glossy, magazines with Spanish titles, as well as a battered, old swivel chair. A perfect location to set up Helga G. Pataki's first international office. Leaning back into the hall to ensure the coast was clear, she finally ushered Phoebe into her newly-found sanctuary, and promptly closed the door behind them.
"Helga? I apologise for making such an obvious observation, but this isn't the bathroom." Phoebe spoke after a brief, confused pause.
"I know, Pheebs, I know." Helga began a little breathlessly as she fumbled for a light switch. "But there's something I need to-"
Helga's words came to an abrupt halt. Because once again, somehow, like almost every other time, she heard it. That slow, steady, rasping wheeze, this time emanating from the small room's farthest and most shadowy corner.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
With a low growl of anger and disbelief, Helga finally found and pulled on the dangling light switch, casting a dim, halogen glow through the place. And there he was, just standing there in the corner, grin on his face. Phoebe gave a small, surprised jump. But Helga – far too numb to this particular brand of weirdness by now – just seethed, clenched her fists, and tried very, very hard to keep her tone level. Quite a challenge considering how on-edge her nerves had already been.
"Why were you just standing here alone in a darkened storeroom, Brainy?" She didn't know why she even bothered – they'd been through this enough times for her to know the answer.
"Uh… I dunno…"
Helga rubbed her forehead in an attempt to stave off any oncoming migraines, and gritted her teeth. "Look, I think we both know that I kind of owe you one, and I've got a lot on my mind right now, so I'd honestly rather not sock you to kingdom come this time." She moved purposefully forward, and placed a hand on the boy's back to guide him firmly towards the door. "Not to mention, I'd rather not have this conversation with Phoebe with you lying unconscious in the corner. So for now, just get the heck out of here and rest assured that normal service will resume next time. Got it?" She didn't bother waiting for a response; who knew whether one was coming anyway? Instead, she swiftly threw the door open once more, this time giving the boy a hearty shove out. It was a little rough, but it was certainly gentler than her usual treatment, and door once again slammed in his wake. For a moment, Brainy stood alone in the hallway. Unexpectedly though, the door creaked open one final time, just enough for a blonde, pigtailed head to poke out and glance in his direction.
"And… y'know… Thanks, Brainy."
As the girl disappeared, the door closing a final time, Brainy continued to stand as he'd done before. His eyes were wide, though, and his mouth briefly hung open. But soon enough, his grin returned, and he made his way back down the hall with a low, happy chuckle.
Back in the storeroom, Phoebe found herself staring at her best friend's back. In the absence of Brainy's heavy, rasping breaths, the room suddenly felt eerily quiet; she wished Helga would just say something.
"Um, disregarding Brainy's unexpected presence, I'm still a little confused, Helga. Is everything alright?" This was by no means Phoebe's first rodeo, and that meant the girl's next question came easily. "Is this Ice Cream related?"
When Helga turned, Phoebe felt as though she saw an entire range of emotions warring with each other behind her best friend's eyes; there was definitely fear, worry and apprehension, without a doubt. But winning out by far was excitement. Lots and lots of excitement. In an instant, the girl had tightly seized Phoebe's shoulders, bringing her face so close that their noses were touching. And it was then that Helga finally spoke.
"IT WORKED!"
A/N Melon Arnold, we hardly knew ye.