Rocket to the Moon
Chapter 35
Love is in the Air
. . . ...Spanish version will be here tomorrow...
Friday, May 22th
09:00 Finish revision TRW papers. Check mark.
10:30 Updates with the team. Jim- Daph- Ted- Dionne- 4 check marks.
12:00 Meet Deb. Check mark (*)
13:00 Lunch w/ Woody. Pio Pio Restaurant. 210 E 34th St. (Uber) - Check mark
15:15 Greg. Paperwork.
16:00 Make Next Monday (scratch that) Tuesday to do list.
17:00 Empire Street. 76th Floor – Henry. Possible Location H&HM Foundation.
18:00 " " " "
Another day, another dollar.
Notes: *Dinner with Deb, Monday 25th, Memorial Day. Her place? Work?
. . .
. . .
With a frown, Arnold closed his daily planner for the day. He'd already passed next Monday appointment with Deborah to his phone calendar.
Why Deborah wanted to see him precisely on Memorial Day; a holiday Monday? It was a free day. Not that he was complaining. He didn't have another plan for the night, and Deb was a pleasant company.
And - not to forget - his boss….
He frowned again.
Still, that look she directed him before leaving her office wasn't reassuring at all. He blinked the memory away and exhaled loudly. It was already past-four thirty pm according to his wall clock and in a few minutes, he'll have to go upstairs to meet Henry. He checked everything was in order and then walked around. His office wasn't the most spacious thing in the world, nor it have a window or any other pleasantries of the like, but it was a private space and he'd come to love it.
He walked back to his table and took his seat again with a low grumble. He'd been grumbling a lot lately, much to his chagrin. He fished his cellphone out of his breast pocket and went right to open Whatsapp to entertain himself while he waited. Friday afternoons weren't that productive, after all, and he'd done his job for the day.
Conversations, conversations, and more vain conversations. Well, not that vain. Gerald giving him the news that his lovely daughter already spoke Japanese, and to prove it he added a few seconds long recording with Minerva soft voice saying something that sounded like "Kon'nichiwa o-isan An-nod".
Arnold smiled at the sound. Sweet little girl. She was like what? One year and… ten months or so? There was no way she was even two and it was already clear she'd be a first-class little girl. She inherited the intelligence from her mother and the coolness from her father. Writing back a few sincere praises and wishing Gerald replied soon, he went on with his conversations.
Woody saying that the Peruvian ceviche he had at lunch was the most delicious thing he'd had in years. 'And it's naturally low-calorie!' He added five exclamation signs in there. 'I told Stan and since everybody's on diet in here to show support, we're planning going next Friday again. You in?'; Arnold grumbled to himself. It was not that he doubted he'd be well-received in that group after what had happened with their boss, but even then, it was probably not the best idea. "We'll see," he typed back and left it there.
Then it was his work team talking about their plans for the upcoming long weekend. He left that without a reply. Then the gossiping group talking about the last event: a girl crying in the 27th Floor bathroom because his boyfriend, some guy from HR, had dumped her for the brand-new intern in the office; 'That fake redhead. She can't hide she's a whore for the sake of it'…. Rolling his eyes and wondering why people always thought the worst of redheads, he went on. He always found them cute, by the way.
Arnold browsed down the rest of the conversations before blocking down the device. Rhonda's was the most visible name on the screen before it went off. He leaned against the back of his seat and fixed his tired eyes on the wall in front of him. He remembered the conversation by heart. He read it once and again back in the day; about three – four weeks ago when they first changed impressions. He reread it in the days that followed the news.
The blond young man appreciated Rhonda's tact; her concern. She was a friend through and through. No doubt about it. She cared about him and it was all too clear she didn't underestimate his love for Helga under the label of a random 'workplace crush'.
Nope.
Because Rhonda knew for real of the depth of his feelings. He'd admitted already them before her. He had to. Rhonda had asked it before deciding whether to tell or not…. More than 'the news', it was the specifics of the event what was important.
All in all, and despite the lightness he showed when he said to Henry he doubted his unwilling participation as 'the other' would make a difference, it turned out it was not necessary further action from his part. It was only his figure what was needed; the notion of the existence of some 'the other', and that was it. He had been a pawn in Henry's game. His part was already done and Arnold suspected it immediately when he felt that the air in the office turned lighter, and the general mood more pleasant.
It took watching Dick from afar, as he went his way down the hallway with not only a relaxed mood but with a smile so easy that he wouldn't be able to hide it by any means to realize something had changed. The bastard was happy.
If that was not the definitive telltale, then a lovable Helga making act of presence at 29th Floor the next afternoon looking like the glorious personification of happiness was. He'd cursed under his breath. Not at her allure, of course, but its meaning. Did Helga look this glorious only when she was happy, he wondered. Anyway, the conversation with Rhonda had started right then, prompted by this very scene. He had to thank to heavens that the raven-haired girl loved gossip this much that she had no option but spill the beans.
It turned out Dick had appeared at Helga's door with flowers and all the winner attitude - yeah, he could pull that-. Helga, who had already made up her mind about the futility of her hopes on that regard, put on a blasé front. She was not that easy to convince, after all, because, had her fault been so grave?
But what started with the acceptance of the splendid bouquet – which supposedly symbolized regret, pain and hope for a reconciliation (insert puzzled emoji and Arnold's scoff here) – ended with a long talk at a nice restaurant in Columbus Circle; and furthermore, a sweet reconciliation on Dick's bed.
Rhonda words.
Arnold's head spun.
Rhonda: 'They've been inseparable since'.
So much that Arnold would swear people were starting to get suspicious.
Arnold: 'If they are not careful, everybody would realize soon. It's weird to see them together. Not fighting. Being civil to each other.'
Rhonda: 'I guess they don't care anymore what people think.'
He let out his breath with exasperation.
Arnold: 'What the hell is going on in Helga's head?'
Rhonda: Eye-rolling emoji
Arnold: 'LOVE?! But why? HOW?'
Rhonda: 'I don't know. I guess she'd learned to appreciate him. Maybe she sees something good in him-
Arnold: 'His money?'
Rhonda went on ignoring him.
Rhonda: 'I know she cares about him; about his wellbeing. THEIR wellbeing. Henry's, I mean. She loves the man beyond all sense.'
There was a pause on Arnold side.
Rhonda: 'Arnold, don't you see the whole picture?'
Arnold: 'Other than money, no. I don't see-'
Rhonda sent a voice message then:
'Do you think Helga would be with a man only because his money?" she scoffed "She loves him." She emphasized, " But I accept that it's also true that being together resolves the problem, period." She added in a muffled rush, as if she were in a crowded office and didn't want to be heard "The company's management, the succession; the long-desired heir... Dick has the blood; Helga the skills. This way Henry assure Helga's permanence by his side. It's all about Henry - and - it's all in the family…. And I really think you shouldn't need me to understand this.' She ended with mild irritation.
Arnold froze for a second. He realized he was being puerile and that Rhonda has no obligation to deal with all his whining. She was exhibiting good manners because she was his friend, but even then, he decided not to keep pushing her patience and left things like that. His unhappiness wasn't her fault at all. Neither it was him. Or maybe it was, because he'd chosen her now, not back then.
Exhaling, he told Rhonda she was right, he excused himself, thanked her and closed the conversation.
'Call me later if you really want to talk'. The screen of his cellphone lit up for a second showing up Rhonda last message.
"What does that even mean?" he said aloud. Of course, he wanted to talk; to feed more his need for information. Whatever amount of data that reached his ears this days was never enough. "Why do you think I'm signed up in all those gossiping groups?"
. . .
. . .
Yet, despite the turmoil of his unrequited feelings and all the hurt, there was a thing among all that that stuck to his mind. 'Helga loved Henry' and 'she did everything for him', Rhonda words were oddly like 'She can't deny him anything' that Deborah had uttered a couple of weeks back.
Yep, he'd asked her. Call it desperation.
But in any case,
Was it even real? Did Helga do everything for Henry? Arnold exhaled long and left his seat to walk around his room, again. There was something bothering him; a damn itching in his brain. He'd already witnessed Henry tricks. People -him included - were like clay in his hands. How big, or deep, or wide was his influence on Helga; how much had he molded her into the person she was now? Her personality, her goals and dreams. Had she come to follow him, to love him on her free will or had it been somewhat forced, deceived?
Had it been of any good for her? Henry? He leaned his back against his door, deep in thoughts. He knew Henry was a good man, all in all; that he had good intentions, even when he himself had declared he'd made many mistakes in his life, one of them right under Arnold's nose, a few weeks ago. He'd hurt Dick in front of him, deliberately, just because he wanted to make his point; had put him in an unwanted and uncomfortable situation. How many times through his life; in one single day even; had Henry acted evilly? Unconsciously or not? Deliberately or not? Just to get his point…
Was it any good for Helga? Arnold shook his head and decided to stop thinking about something he'd probably never fully knew; because he could be totally wronged in his impressions. Deciding to change his line of thoughts to a more pleasurable one, or so,
Like Helga impromptu visit of last Wednesday.
. . .
. . .
It had happened a few times over the last month, but where her previous visits were - let's say - justifiable in regards their usual work relationship; last Wednesday had been different. She'd knocked, stepped into the room and went right to throw herself on his couch. Not the chair in front of his desk, but his couch by the end of it. Then she remained in silence long enough for him to get surprised; getting accustomed to have her laying there; finishing the work at hand and finally closing his computer to direct an intensive and exhaustive look at the woman a few feet away from him. She was like a vision. He could love not to notice her long legs, her fair complexion, her perfect shapely limbs, her radiant hair, those red lips…
She was the image of every man dreams…. His, at the very least. He still had a hard time to recognize in her at the same old cranky, scowling, loud and unsophisticated Helga Pataki from the old days.
Henry's Influence? Oh, the irony!
Luke's influence? Mmmmm.
Her own maturity process?
And she was more than that. She was Helga G. Pataki, the virtual CEO of an important company, the… woman… of a very impulsive and rich heir; and she was - just like that - laying there, on his humble couch.
He left his desk and walked towards her. Her blue sight fixed on the ceiling told him she was lost in thoughts.
"A penny for your thoughts, Pataki" he tapped her ankle asking her to make room for him. Probably due to the naturality of his gesture, she drew in her legs together just enough for him to sit down on the same couch before placing them again, on his lap.
Arnold smirked to himself, and hesitated for as long as a second before placing his hand on her legs, in the most casual of the ways.
"I… I wouldn't know… what to say…" She frowned, looking at him as if seeing him for the first time.
"Yeah-yeah," there was sympathy in his exhalation "I know the feeling." He chuckled "You know? There was a time, long ago, one of the pets in the house, an old dog" he made a pause to look at her again "Do you remember how the boarding house used to be populated by cats and dogs and… Abner?" he looked at her, unsure. She let out a hesitant nod "Well, this dog, he was different from the others. He was clean, all well-groomed; had a fancy necklace." He took off Helga's beige pump and smiled at the flower decorated toenails. He started massaging her foot then.
"Hey! What do you think you are doing?!" Helga attempted to get up.
"Shhh-shhh-shhh," softly but firmly, he pushed her back down "Massaging your feet, what else?" he chortled "It's not as disagreeable as the last time, remember?"
She eyed him circumspectly, for long seconds. "In the middle of the bus?" she finally asked, with a frown.
He nodded. "In the middle of the bus, back from school… Your feet are all cute now. They don't stink anymore…"
"My feet didn't stink!"
"Right." Arnold rolled his eyes "They were huge too!"
Slightly annoyed, Helga tried to remove her feet from his hands again, but he gave a soft slap. "You were such a puny boy back then" she said with disdain then.
"Anyway," he went on ignoring her "He was not a regular one. Our doggie friend. Sometimes, he was at home; sometimes he disappeared for days. Grandma had a fanciness for old age, as you may remember, and she came to realize he was around only on weekends. Curiosity got the best of her so she took paper and a pen, and wrote a note:
"Your dog come to my house to take a nap on weekends. Eats little. Sleeps a lot in my hallway rug. He's kinda becoming a nice decoration."
He chanced a glance to her face to see if she was paying him any attention. A smile appeared on his lips at the sight of the interest in the blue orbs. She looked like a little girl avid to hear a good story.
"Did she get a reply?"
"Yep" he nodded, going all the way back to roll each one of her toes now. "Next weekend. A note that read words more words less:
'So is it there where he goes? Figures.
Thank you for letting him crash in there.
You know, my grandchildren come to visit on weekends. Champion's too old to deal with little kids fuss so he disappears. I was afraid he wandered aimlessly. Glad he's found a hideaway. Hope he doesn't bother you.'
"What did Gertie replied?"
Arnold shrugged his shoulders. "I don't remember that much. The thing is you remind me of that dog. Champion."
"So, I look like an old and ugly dog to you?"
"Not at all." Arnold eyed her appreciatively. "And he wasn't ugly – either." It made him feel hot inside to see her faint blush.
"Right!" she snorted and crossed her arms on her chest.
Arnold laughed openly at her feigned offense.
"I feel like you're overwhelmed." He started "Like if there are moments when it's just too much; and you don't know what to do, so you come here to escape your world for a few minutes. Just like Champion used to do."
"I…" Helga seemed lost at words.
He went on before she'd be able to speak.
"I'm glad you find your solace in here. I'm happy… I feel honored… to help you, in your moments of distress."
"I haven't admitted…!" the Helga of his childhood started, but then she paused. She closed her eyes for a second and exhaled "Thank you Arnold. For being here for me."
All new beautiful Helga.
"My pleasure." Arnold grinned. He proceeded to put her shoes on again and gave a last, somewhat reassuring pat on her legs. "Anytime, my lovely Valkyrie. Now take your horse and ride over the battlefield again."
Later, Arnold swore she'd swooned before giving him a quick hug and leaving the room. He was left here in the couch with a huge smile and a long and yearning exhalation that made his chest ache.
He couldn't help it. It has no point to deny it, and even when he was perfectly conscious that this was pretty much hopeless love, right then and there, still relishing the feeling of the firm in his fingertips, he swore to himself he would never give up without a fight. He wouldn't lose her forever this easy.
. . .
. . .
He blinked repeatedly when he found himself seated in his couch, alone, and with the exact replica of that big, longing smile plastered on his face. He jumped to his feet and left the room in a hurry after realizing it was a few seconds short to the time he should meet Henry upstairs.
Seconds later he was hurrying into 30th Floor. Lessened his pace when he walked towards the secretaries section, and nodding with a smile to Henry secretary who smiled back.
"Mr. Mueller received and unexpected visit, Arnold," an apologetic smile appeared on her face "Can you wait for him. Just a few minutes. I don't think it last long."
"Of course. No problem" he looked around, pondering if he should take a seat or wait on his feet.
He would feel uncomfortable just to sit down there. He was not a foreign visit, after all, but he didn't want to look impatient either, and people standing on their feet used to give that impression. He decided to get to the window and look outside. Not every day you had the chance to look towards Park Avenue right from the advantageous point of view a thirty floors height central window.
He had barely reached the point when Deborah left her office accompanied by the Human Resources Director who looked bothered.
"So, there's nothing you can do?"
"Not so far." She shook her head with a hint of annoyance on her own "We already reached to Custom and Border Protection, but are hearing nothing back from them. There are hundreds of cases like this. Everybody says the same. "
"I can't believe it. It's just a boy from the IT team. He was on vacation! Now he can't enter the country again."
"Is he married?"
"Yah. His wife and kid are already home. She told me they even put him an exam, can you believe it? Something stupid you get when you google: 'What to ask to a Software Engineer?'" he scoffed "Seems that according to them he's not the skilled specialist he says he is",
"Figures!" She said with an indulgent smile "Well, Frank, I'll put someone on this," she looked at a paper sheet in her hand. "It's Friday evening now. Let's hope they're getting tired of playing the tough guy."
The guy nodded and went off. Arnold gestured Deb to come over then. It was a beautiful sight outside and he was sure she'd appreciate a moment to relax.
"Hey Arnold, what are you doing here?"
"Counting down yellow cabs," he smirked and pointed down there. "Twenty-three heading north. Help me out with the ones that go south"
"Sure!" Deb laughed softly and patted his shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked promptly "Nervous?"
"About?" he turned to see her "Going to see some offices at the Empire State?" he noticed she was biting her lip, like chastising herself.
"Hey! King Kong might be there and… well - you know," she shrugged, letting out a gracious laugh. He welcomed the gesture. It was odd. She didn't laugh that much. Her smile was contagious.
"Well, I don't look like the sexy blonde girl in distress, I hope…"
"Well, you're blond. And let me tell you you're not half bad…" She left the window and started walking back to her office. Arnold walked along "You should put on a white dress and see what happens. A big gorilla could find you attractive."
"That'd be fun, though I think the pheromones thing would betray me." He chortled "Would you be the businessman selling tickets?"
"Henry could make it. I bet he…" the words died in her throat right then when Henry office's door got open and a party of three stepped into the hall. Henry directed his baby blue eyes on them for a second, a stern expression plastered on his face.
Arnold looked at his visitants and recognized them immediately. The man was Henry most beloved enemy, the second major shareholder of Mueller Enterprises, Glen Brennan. The girl was his daughter Regina. Arnold had already met Regina at Dick's apartment, a few months ago, some Sunday that he went to make some work for him.
Just by looking at their expressions you could tell there was no a pleasant motive what brought the Brennans over. It seemed that Deborah has the same impression because she continued her easy walking back to her office, though she directed a friendly salutation to the trio. Mr. Brennan acknowledged Deb from afar with a dry smile. Regina nodded ever so slightly.
"I guess we have nothing left to say." Glen said.
"Mmm" Henry grumbled "True that I'm lost for words myself."
"But you're happy with the situation. Don't deny it." Regina words were harsh. "You might as well have provoked it, for all I know."
"Regina!" her father chastised her.
"Do you really think I can govern the kids that way?" Henry snorted "I wish! If I did I swear -"
"That's okay. We'll talk later. It's just a shame that after all this time we have to come to this…" Mr. Brennan interrupted him, but was cut when a striding noise reached everybody ears.
One and all turned to see the arriving elevator whose doors opened with a terrible creaking sound.
"Geez!" Helga stepped out and looked at it with offense. "Oil it, for God's sake! Or call Maintenance. That thing can't keep going up and down making that terrible noise."
"Helga, are you okay?" one of the girls asked her as she approached with firm steps.
"Yeah. It seems fine. It's just the noise. Leaves you with your thoughts all scrambled!" she wavered her hand in the air as she approached them. Then, she lessened her pace at the sight in front of Henry's door. Hesitating just for an instant, she headed towards the group.
All his life Arnold had been said he was dense, but even someone like him could see the tension surrounding the scene. Deb and he, and the group of secretaries fell silent and remained glued to their spots to watch. Helga's face showed nothing but a sociable disposition.
"Glen." She extended her hand. The man took it and looked at her with displeasure.
"Helga." He said curtly. He seemed to be pondering what to say next; like looking for a way to express he was not happy at her. "I never thought it'd come the day when I was no happy-"
But his daughter cut in, interrupting his words. Extending a couple of sniffy fingers to point at Helga's attire, she barked.
"What dress is that?"
Helga blinked and gave a step back. Frowning, she looked down at her form-fitting blue dress. "My… mmm… blue dress?" she raised her sight to look at the other woman "Why?"
"I've seen it before." She pointed out, snappish.
Helga raised his brows, and then, directing a last glance at her dress, she said.
"Well, I'm sure it's mass-produced."
"Was it a present?" Regina insisted.
"No-ope" Helga frowned again, eyeing the girl with caution. "I have had it for a while, but-"
"You've lost it!"
Helga scoffed and directed to Henry and Glen an apologetic expression.
At his side, Deb seemed to be having a laugh. Arnold turned to see her and she gave him a look that let him know she knew better. Arnold was distracted briefly by the realization she was quite entertained with the scene.
He turned to the group again and Henry was talking now, naturally, as he dismissed his guests. Glen had taken his daughter by the arm in a chiding manner since the girl seemed to be having problems to get herself together.
Helga was by Henry side as the image of the perfect companion; the Ivanka's way. The scene was weird, and Arnold wanted to confirm the suspicions in his mind. He turned to Deb and asked in low voice what the hell had just happened in here. She shrugged with mischief.
"Don't be curious. You don't need to know everything, Arnold." She ended with a wink and headed towards her office.
Arnold then saw the Brennan reaching the elevator, calling it and being so lucky that the slow and noisy thing opened its doors for them immediately. After they went he headed towards Henry and Helga who still were standing by his door and talking secretly to each other. Henry got apart from Helga when he arrived.
"You ready, Arnold?"
"As ready as it gets" he replied good-humored. He smiled to Helga who smiled back a semi-absent smile. She wished them luck and disappeared without further words. Arnold turned to see Henry, who for all response, opened big his blue eyes with an expression that said nothing, and asked him to lead the way.
. . .
. . .
"Would you like carpet or wooden floors?" Henry asked him from the other side of the vacant space.
Tom, the real estate agent had left them by themselves and went outside to answer his phone. Arnold opened a new door. It led to a good sized private space. It had been people working here; removing the old carpet, painting the walls in a soft creamy color, fixing the decorative wood…
"So what do you think?"
All in all, the almost 5000 square feet were more than enough to give shelter to the headquarters of Henry and Helga Mueller Foundation; and not only that. They would provide the appropriate look of respectability and power that such of a respectable institution required.
"I think it's perfect." Arnold said with an exhalation.
"But?" Henry's voice sounded closer than he expected. Arnold turned to look for him.
"No buts. I really think it's perfect"
Henry directed him a satisfied expression then.
"I like it too. Really." He walked to the window "And look at the sight!" he whistled.
"Yeah. Awe-inspiring…" he hesitated "Whomever that works here wouldn't be allowed to complain about the lack of inspiration." He said looking at the rich work of marquetry in the walls of this particular office; the one reserved for the boss. "Truth that I'm getting jealous…" he started but stopped himself. Henry kept looking around with a strange smile perched on his lips. He looked so proud. Probably already picturing in his mind the future of this long-expected dream.
"So, do I have your approval?"
"Yeah!" he laughed at the impression Henry was giving; as if his opinion was important. The only opinion that weighted in was Henry's, obviously. And the one of the future president of soon-to-be a great Foundation. "It'd be silly to give it a thought. We could lose it."
"It's done then." Henry walked past him on his way out "Tom said it's be ready in a month or so. Key in hand. What do you think? We'll be ready?"
"To launch it?" Arnold looked at him warily. "To pass all the work over? To a persona that knows nothing?" seeing the amused expression Henry directed his way he stopped himself. With a more even-tempered expression he continued "I guess any time is a good time to start. There are plenty of factors, details, decisions, that need to be sorted out, even when it isn't official yet. The sooner they start the better."
"Who said it wouldn't be official yet?" Henry asked, staring at him "I know that with all the turmoil that's happening in our beloved country, people would say it's not the right moment to make this, but I think there are no better time than now. Maybe we're not throwing a big party to announce it officially this month or next, but we definitively are going somewhere. Having already our headquarters is an excellent start."
Arnold nodded. "I guess you're right. It's only that I thought you were stalling."
"Nah! Mueller Enterprises is kind of waiting, because of the current political, economic situation, but H&HMF don't have to do that. We have our own resources. Let's get started."
"That sounds great." Arnold let out a strange smile.
It felt weird. After all the hard work done he had to let go. There will be a strange person who'd be in charge of everything he and Henry had been working on for months. All the outlines, plans, ideas, all of it; expectation y certain level of affection included. It was sad. With the sensation that his guts were being punched – a feeling he had been getting accustomed as of late – he uttered.
"I get that you already chose a President…" he turned to see Henry who was showing that slanted smile of him; the one where he also raised an arrogant brow.
"Yeah, I did. There is a job offering I still have to extend. I don't do many of those. Let's see what he has to say."
"What could he say?" Arnold sneered "It'd be an idiot if he says no. I don't see any one rejecting an opportunity like that."
"Really?" Henry laughed. The entrance door opened and Tom came in flashing a million-dollar smile. He clapped his hands and asked with his loud real estate voice.
"So what do you think? Should I put the red pin in the map already? The 'LEASED' sign on the front door?"
"Bring the papers on, Tom!" Henry said stepping into the spot where the reception desk will proudly stand someday. Soon. "The President has already given his approval."
Arnold frowned. What the hell was that? Had Henry already come and…
Tom let out a raucous laugh with a gesture that involved all the expanse of his body, interrupting Arnold train of thoughts. He patted Arnold back and eyed him appreciatively. "Mr. Shortman," he said "You've taken one of the best decision in your career. Congratulations."
"You're mistaken." Arnold didn't know if he actually got to pronounce the words. He'd turned to Henry who was giving him a sympathetic look. Arnold could tell his expression was one of incredulity because Henry said then.
"Do I need to bring all the pomp and ceremony or this nice informality is enough for you? What do you think? Would you want to be the President of my Foundation, Arnold Shortman?"
. . .
. . .
I don't own Hey Arnold!
Thank you to my reviewers: Jose Ramiro, PresleyRox, CarlinJ83, Nep2uune and two guests . You guys make me come back and stay awake until three in the morning to keep on with this. Never think I don't care about it anymore. It's just that life had gotten kinda complicated lately.
Someone knows when The Jungle Movie is coming out? I feel like we've been waiting forever. Already want to watch it. Really! I can't wait anymore.
Love you all.
March 28, 2017. B-Day present.
.