Rocket to the Moon

Chapter Thirteen

Business Trip Part One

.

… 'Be a good kid.' Read the white bubble. He smiled reading it. For the umpteenth time.

. -'Why you say that?

. - You know I'm always a good kid," was his answer, enclosed in a blue bubble each.

There was no further reply.

It was the second time Helga said it; the same day; on Monday before their trip. Two and a half weeks later and he finally got her meaning. The blond boy smirked raising his sight to see his friends occupying their time in their own electronic devices.

The first time it had happened in floor 29. Arnold went to run some errands. Deb and Helga were talking in the hallway by the staircase. They had been at it for a while now. When Arnold returned he stopped by their side to talk to his boss. After he ended Helga asked him if he was ready for the trip.

"As ready as it gets," was his answer. Helga had smirked.

"I really hope so."

And then they went talking about trips. Business and leisure travels. Deb wasn't a great traveler. She said she was just a girl from North Dakota who now lived in NYC. Where else she'd wish for? Arnold admitted she had a point. Meanwhile, he who had been once a backpacker now fancied going away to enjoy his vacations. Helga on her side was a frequent flyer who had accumulated so many miles that she'd never pay for a personal flight again.

When he'd ended telling them about their last vacation he turned towards Helga who was looking at him with an odd expression.

"What?" he'd asked.

"Be a good kid," there was a hint of warning in her voice.

People were working around as always; going their ways; doing their things. But Arnold felt like if she wanted to tell him something else; as if her words had an ulterior meaning. So he decided to ask.

"Why'd you say that?"

But his question went unnoticed because at that very moment Dick Mueller and Mike Davis got out of the staircase.

"Hi Helga, Hi Deb." Dick addressed them with his signature greeting. With a slight nod of his head he acknowledged Arnold too. He'd forgotten his name, probably. Or maybe there were too many names for a casual morning greeting. Who knew?

"Hi Dick… Mike,"

"Roderick… Mikkel-O,"

"Guys," Arnold hid his smile. Helga had always her ways to annoy people. Seemed that calling them other names never lost its punch; Mike had barely time to compose himself to let out a rushed and somewhat vacillating:

"Inga,"

Helga laughed at the lack of imagination of his poorly accomplished mocking. Dick on the other hand turned to see her with that impassive air that showed that he didn't give a shit about human interrelations. Then the two men went on to their own business as most of the girls in the seats craned their necks to follow their forms as they went down the hallway.

Arnold smiled seeing this, but then frowned when the duo reached the corner and turned to see the bunch by the staircase. Deb and Helga were back to their previous conversation so it was only Arnold who was looking their way.

He felt uncomfortable under their gaze. Dick was quite the character. Now that he got to work with him he could finally tell what all that noise about him was about. He remembered Deb saying Dick was 'special'. Well, Arnold would still say 'difficult' fit better.

…

For starters, Dick hated being interrupted. He hated if it looked like you weren't paying attention; hated if you asked something that had already been talked about; hated even if you yawned. His reactions were singular and went from simply raising his voice to making caustic commentaries or putting you to shame. He was impatient, irascible and had the most peculiar of the humors.

Arnold had witnessed a couple of scenes himself. The first time it was Henry the one who put Dick in a bad mood. He paid a visit to the Meeting Room and after seeing their work and asking a few questions he took leave and went off. Dick followed him. Contrary to his nephew Henry was quite the gentleman. Dick came back minutes later in a foul mood; minor changes were made to the operation plan. He complained to Stan in low grumbles. Arnold knew he could be slow, and dense, but anyone could realize Henry's power still reached him and his work, something that probably didn't make Dick any happy since everybody knew his uncle gave Helga carte blanche.

Another occasion a girl was called to the Meeting Room, an intern. She was asked to bring beverages and snacks to the group. She was a sweet pretty girl, too young. Her only sin was to chirpily announce her arriving and to ask what to do with the stuff on the tray she was holding.

Dick stopped what he was doing to applaud, smiling kindheartedly to her and without changing his expression, he asked wryly "What about throwing them out through the window?" Then he turned around and continued working.

The girl gave a step to the window but then halted, and smiled; thinking it was a joke and expecting that any moment he tell her what to do, for real. Arnold was perplexed at first, but then he narrowed his eyes. Dick was often surly, but he felt as if this conduct hid something else. As usual, some guys smiled celebrating his boss acerbity but the rest of them ignored the scene. Discourteously, they all went on with their things as if nothing.

Arnold waited for a prudent while until he realized it was real. No one was going to address her. To this time she'd realized that for an unknown reason she has being punished. The worst thing was that her punisher hasn't been any other but one of the owners himself; even Arnold thought twice before acting.

But still, he walked to her and took the tray from her hands motioning for her to help him to remove the stuff that was on a small table. The girl obeyed with trembling hands; her eyelashes were damp. Arnold smiled before thanking her and pointing to the door with discretion. She smiled back and disappeared in a second, carefully closing the door after her.

Arnold turned back to the table. Marty, Ben and Woody were looking his way. Arnold returned Woody sight but ignored Ben and Mike's; he didn't want to acknowledge their disdain. He didn't turn to Dick either. Taking air he walked to his spot at the table telling himself he'd done the right thing; remembering he'd been an intern once; the new guy around, the one who knew nothing. He recalled it was hell, but even then he hadn't been forced to put up with a bunch of bastards who poured some twisted code onto the office atmosphere as a way to relieve their frustrations.

.

But Dick wasn't harsh only on outsiders; his own team suffered his changing moods and impatience. Ben took a while to look for the answer to a given question and got a humiliating reprimand. Mike didn't come with any idea to solve a problem and was ignored the rest of the meeting. Stan and Dick didn't talk to each other at all the day before their departure and no one ever got to know why.

All that tension took its toll. The reunions were tiring. Arnold reached his house all those evenings feeling exhausted.

"Woody says that eventually I'll get used to." He'd said to Claire, who listened to him with patience.

But then there was a totally different scene when Dick took a call to answer a telephone survey in the middle of a meeting. He took his time, took his seat apart and started to reply a bunch of crap to questions about household cleaning products. Against his better will Arnold laughed; everybody was doing it. Dick humor was acrid; and despite all the nonsense he was saying some of his answers sounded logical to a certain degree. Besides, there was some kind of schadenfreude involved. Certain revenge against the obnoxious people from all those call centers who called anytime without consideration to your occupations. The girl in the other side of the line should be frustrated but Dick wouldn't let her hang up. The thing went on for about twenty minutes and when he finally hung he went back to work with renewed vigor.

. . .

"Oh my God!" Claire laughed aloud "He really said that saliva was the best to clean grime stains on the stove?"

"Or to remove mold from bathroom. Something like that; I don't remember exactly." Arnold shrugged his shoulders "He also called the things other names so it took forever to assume they were talking about the same stuff. He was driving her crazy. She had a hard time holding back; trying not to lose it."

"I'll be laughing my ass out if I've been there."

Arnold chortled.

"Yeah, I know, that was funny." He laughed "Though I must admit it was rather vicious too."

"Maybe…" she hesitated. "Still, I think it must be a laugh…"

"Yeah, it was; an unexpected relief between those unnecessary stressful sessions."

"Awww, you poor little guys,"

"Poor guys indeed." Arnold exhaled "But you know what the strangest thing I've seen in all this is?"

"What?" Claire looked at him in suspense.

"I think they like it."

"Explain,"

The blond paused. It was kind of an eye opener to say it aloud.

"They really like it; like him. I mean, they celebrate his sarcasm; they imitate it. They're always looking for his appreciation. They turn into him when they're with other people. Even… Woody…" Arnold shook his head "He's a dick when he's on his own, and yet when Dick is around he's just one of the puppies."

"Wow!" Claire blinked and remained thoughtful. "And what'd be the reason, according to you?"

"I really don't know…" he turned to her "What do you think?"

"Admiration?" she ventured with a small smile. "Respect?"

Arnold shrugged. "Maybe." He wasn't the best at reading people.

"Maybe is just because he's the boss." She added, but then she shrugged too. "How do you feel around them?"

"It's not that comfortable."

"It's the same feeling from back then when you left the firm."

"Not. Not at all. Back then it was a matter of integrity."

"And now?"

"Now it's just that I don't know if I'll be able to deal with their mood."

Claire thought for a while; then puffed.

"Well, Deb is your boss, not him…. And at least you already made clear that you're not a chump, right?"

Arnold let out a low grunt. He had already showed to Dick's Pack that he was not a sissy. Although at what price.

. . .

The blond lawyer's participation in the meetings had been delimited to point out the law every time they asked him to do it, each time Arnold considered necessary to make a mention and always that official procedure was involved. But after a couple of days when the planning was almost done and the operative system was being established, their attention was set in some specific details that hadn't been quite resolved. Arnold observed their discussion but he remained behind, until Dick suddenly turned to him and pointed to the table with his head.

"What would you do?" he asked. "Deb trusts you're the most capable man under her wing. Don't tell me she's mistaken."

Arnold blinked; and reminding Deb's advises he began to talk without hesitation.

"Well, one thing that must be considered is that according to the law …"

"I don't want you reciting all those laws, articles or fucking amendments," Dick said in a challenging tone; showing certain satisfaction seeing that he turned out to be so predictable. "I want you using your judgment as you did when you helped that strawberry cake girl the other day."

With pierced pride Arnold held his breath but didn't let himself feel intimidated. So using his judgment he did. He walked forward to the table and touched the layout at the time he uttered what he thought.

The first thing had to be done, no matter what. The second has to be rethought…

"… And regarding the employment contracts, the ones of the new hires I mean, I'd say we wait to be there and check if the ones of the old personal are observed to the letter. The ones that they showed us could have been manipulated to give the right impression. In any case, I'm pretty sure we can make changes to our advantage. We're going to sign over a thousand of new contracts. We have the upper hand. We could set our own chart of salaries, wages and benefits. They can't fight back since they assume that'd be the way we do things."

Dick let out a cocked grin that lit up his eyes.

"I knew it!" He patted his back. "I knew you had it in you!"

But Arnold didn't hear anymore as the rest of the guys acted as usual. Some of them grinned; some other looked at him with suspicion, but he was too shocked to pay them any more attention. Did he just say that they should look for a way to affect the workers' wages? Him, Arnold P. Shortman? …

What had he become?

.

"Maybe that's how they all become tough guys," Claire said as to herself. Then inhaled deeply "Maybe that's the way how people become tough."

"Then maybe it's not a good idea that I stay long with them." He thought aloud.

"Nonsense!" She pouted, giving him one of those smiles. "Tough guys have their appeal."

Then she came on to him and made him forgot the world. There was spirited action and not much more talking that night. Claire's lately understanding of his manly needs would be becoming suspicious… if only he wondered why.

But wondering wasn't something that he did willfully. And he didn't because he wasn't ready to spent conscious time thinking why after those passionate, mind-blowing sessions he came back to reality to get surprised by the fact that his partner had curly brown hair.

He'd take a deep intake and would silence his weary insides; choosing not to think if a similar situation happened to her; if she also felt something was wrong with her partner; if instead of a blond guy she expected seeing someone else? Her partner teacher for instance, or one of the fancy guys from her new charity gang

…

Arnold thought and thought abstractly as he went through his Facebook homepage at the time they continued waiting for the rest of the guys to go 'party' tonight. Photos, photos and more photos; shallow-minded commentaries disguised as profound truths; and the occasional touch of real wisdom that pullulated in there. He wondered about the amount of pictures that people poured into the site per day; one single day. He'd read it once but didn't remember now. It was an absurd, inconceivable amount.

And none of those was from Helga. He sighed.

Helga wasn't the great user of the social networks. She thumbed up other people photographs occasionally and commented few and far in between; much as he did. Her profile had a few pictures. Mutual friends like Rhonda and Phoebe had a few snapshots that included her but Arnold had already seen them all. Her homepage didn't show her real life at all, only that she existed. There were no family pictures nor Henry's. No Deb, Dick or anyone else's from work. But there was one of her and Luke. He was taking her by the waist in a clearly possessive way. Arnold recalled her statement about him being just a good friend.

He now doubted it.

…

On Sunday afternoon Arnold and Claire went out to celebrate their third anniversary and some kind of departing celebration as well. It all started with a stroll in Central Park that was followed by dinner and a show. They came across Helga and Luke who were also promenading in the Park. They didn't actually meet them. The other couple paced ahead, walking their dog; a shih tzu that was a cute ball of white and brown hair.

They looked relaxed, wearing matching shorts and tennis shoes; Helga's hair was in a ponytail. Arnold thought he had never seen her so casual, so calm. They couldn't stop talking and laughing all the time. He hadn't seen her wearing shorts either, at least since childhood. Her legs were long and perfectly shaped, and tanned, and...

The only taint was the guy whose hands went to touch her every time he got a chance. Every time she crouched down to help the small dog to keep going. He hated it. And then, when suddenly she bent over and the guy got behind her and caressed her hips in a very intimate way. Arnold felt his head burn. Helga got up with the dog in her hands, and shoved him. Playfully. Then planted a quick kiss on his lips. Arnold held his breath.

Claire was also observing them with attention. She laughed after the kiss.

"He's so gay!" she exclaimed. Arnold turned to her with a face that couldn't hide his fury.

"Mmph… mmm…" he paused. Even forming words was difficult to him at that moment.

Claire looked at him, amused.

"For God's sake!" she laughed "Don't be a fool. There's no reason to be jealous!" and she ended elbowed him.

"I'm not jealous!" Arnold puffed.

"Right…" Claire rolled his eyes, but didn't speak anymore.

Arnold was dying for listening to whatever else she had to say about this Luke guy but didn't dare to challenge his luck. Claire could be a jealous bitch when she wanted and he didn't want to spoil the second to last night at home. They turned around heading towards the restaurant; and Arnold turned his head one last time to see them buying a candy apple like some teenager couple.

…

…

Back then at his last day at the office when Arnold finally turned his attention to the girls they were talking about their things again. He walked on leaving them alone. Later that day Helga reached him at his spot and pulled to hold him in a tight hug. Since Arnold hadn't seen her coming he froze because the surprise and the nearness.

"You're so huggable!" she laughed softly against his ear "Oh Arnold, I'm leaving now, but I didn't want to do it without saying goodbye." He turned a deep shade of red when she kissed him. "Have a nice trip, Football Head. See you then."

"I…" Arnold mustered up all his self-control to stop himself from don't letting go and kissing her lips instead. His mates in the other desks were looking at them. He knew it because all those small laughers. "T… thanks."

"You'll be alright?" she asked; her face still too close. He nodded.

"Yeah," he exhaled, trying to control his breathe. She was almost his same height. Those incredibly eyes were full of sparkles. "Of course I'll be alright."

She patted his cheek.

"That's good to hear."

He knew he was smiling like an idiot, but then felt like an actual moron when she gave a step back and he could see Henry standing there at the end of the hallway, looking at him with an amused expression. He waved Arnold with a single movement of his hand as Helga got close to him. Then they went on; his hand at her elbow. Arnold saw them go feeling confused, lost, knowing he wouldn't see her for a while. And wondering who was the man who shared Helga's bed; Henry or Luke?

… Or both?

. . .

Thanks guys for reading and reviewing this. Special thanks to José Ramiro, Nep2uune, Presley Rox, CarlinJ83 and heyarnoldfangirl for their reviews. See you soon.

I don't own Hey Arnold! I don't own Strawberry Shortcake, The Monsters, Facebook or any other TM mentioned in this story. I own the plot and the OC.

This is just a short start. There are another couple of chapters coming covering Arnold business trip. They are half written would be about this length and still need a good deal of work to be ready. Still I hope to publish them in a week or so. Reviews might encourage my writing. ;)

March 11th, 2015.

Happy Friday the Thirteenth!