Arnold looked out the bus window and watched as the fields rolled by. It was five hours till his destination yet, but already his legs were itching to move. Arnold slowly stretched his short legs as much as he was able, then flinched as a foot that fallen asleep was moved for the first time in ages. The unpleasant sensation sent a shock shooting throughout all his nerves. So for a moment, Arnold was as paralyzed as if he had stuck his finger into an electrical socket. The foolish expression on his face faded as the pain in his foot lessened and he was able to move it again, feeling the pins and needles.
"Ow!" Arnold muttered placing his feet on the floor and careful to not cross his feet again. He was bored, so he flipped open the two latches on his suitcases. He took out one of the magazines Gerald had bought him. Then he thumbed through the pages, wondering what article to read first. Opening a pack of grape flavored chewing gum, Arnold went back to reading his magazine.
The ride was almost peaceful. Except, as time passed, a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Every mile forward was one more mile closer to Arnie and Arnold would be forced to stay there with his cousin for four whole weeks! Life seemed hardly fair.
As the bus got painfully close to the city where Arnie would meet him, Arnold dropped the magazine across his lap. He pressed his nose against the glass window to look for road signs. The mileage left to the city kept going down. Arnold's stomach lurched with nervous butterflies when the bus left the interstate for an exit ramp. Within minutes the bus rolled into Arnold's station.
"You! Kid in the back!" said the bus driver to Arnold since there was no one left on the bus but him and an old lady still sleeping. "Ya gotta get off!"
"I'm coming!" Arnold spoke as cheerfully as possible. He grabbed hold his suitcase handle to pick the case up. But somehow, the latches were not secured tightly and his clothes tumbled to the floor. Arnold shoved them into the case hastily, apologizing to the driver all the while. As he hopped down the steps the fuming driver slammed the bus door behind him, leaving Arnold all alone in the middle of an unknown place.
The bus station was almost deserted. There were dozens of yellow painted lines of parking spots along the fracturing blacktop. But the only vehicle at the entire station was a tractor green pickup truck. A fat, old man whose head was almost completely obscured by a ballcap pulled over his eyes stood beside the truck. At his side, lower down was Arnold's cousin Arnie with the usual frown on his face. Reluctantly, Arnold dragged his suitcase closer.
"Well, son," the taller man said below his cap. "Your guest is here."
"Yeah, pa. Thanks," said Arnie. "Come on, Arnold." Cousin Arnie walked Arnold around to the back of the pickup truck and lifted the suitcase into the back for him. Arnie then opened the door to the pickup truck.
"You coming?" Arnie uttered in his dull, monotone.
"Ah, yeah," said Arnold. Mounting the pickup truck was like mounting a horse. Arnold had to use his hands to pull himself up enough to get his feet inside the door. From there, Arnold lifted his eyes and almost fell out of the truck again. Helga was perched inside the cab in the middle seat. Arnold was shocked.
"Helga, what are you?" the boy began. But the girl in the pink dress clapped her hand across his mouth to shush him. Then she gave out a brief, nervous laugh.
Oh, Arnold!" she said with whimsy. "We rode the same bus! You know Arnie invited me, too! And I'm keeping the middle seat." Slowly, she lifted her hand from Arnold's mouth so he could speak again. His face turned into a giant frown.
"Arnie invited you?" Arnold repeated. His brow knotted in confusion, then moments after Arnold's face was clouded by another emotion. Jealously. Arnold heard a loud sniff behind him.
"Yeah. I invited her," came his cousin's dull monotone. His plain and boring face was now a touch even unfriendlier as his frown deepened. Against his better judgement, Arnold scowled himself. This was the boy who had no trouble stealing Lila's affections from him back when Arnold had still had a crush on Lila. Then, Arnie had the nerve to dump Lila for Helga! Helga had agreed to show the boy the local pizzaria to keep the boy from jumping right back into Lila's arms. But she had given Arnie the "it's over" clause immediately. Every time Arnie showed up it was the same. Arnie fawned after Helga, while Lila fawned after Arnie, and Arnold? He pulled his hair out as distance as his ugly cousin pulled his ladykiller moves.
It was an uncomfortable ride to Arnie's home. First, Arnold was upset. Second, the dirt road to Arnie's farm was full of potholes and ruts. Apparently, the pickup truck had broken shocks because Arnold felt every bump and jolt. The truck vibrated on the uneven surface of the road. Worse, because Arnold so was light, he was bounced up into the air slightly every time the car tire struck a very deep but thin pothole.
"Uh, this road is really rough," said Arnold stating the obvious as he kept his hands pressed against the dashboard to steady himself. The back of Helga's shoulder slammed hard against Arnold's, twice.
"Pa will drive real slow," said Arnie. This time, his monotone could imply that people who could not stand rough roads were babies although they did slow down a tiny bit. The horizon was flat and treeless, although there were a few cows standing on the road, moving their tails with an insistent swish. They took their sweet time moving. Soon after the sea of cows parted, Arnie's pa drove over a noisy cattle gate. This was a plate of metal that cows hated to walk across and Arnold could tell why. It sounded like the road would collapse under them. But at the other side of the gate was Arnie's farm. A stark white farmhouse, a barn, and a tractor all met Arnold's eye. Over by the barn he could see a hog pen and guessed that would be Arnie's pet pig, Abigail.
Arnie's father was even more wordless than his cousin. He opened the truck door, got up, and walked off to vanish without a trace. But Arnie stood about waiting for Helga and Arnold to slide down out of the tall cab. Arnold slammed the car door after Helga had gotten out the pickup's cab.
"Helga, we need to talk!" he said rapidly, glaring at the girl. "Alone!" Before Helga could protest Arnold nabbed her hand and dragged Helga hundred paces off. Arnie could still see them but it was unlikely he could hear what they were saying.
"Helga? What are you doing here?" Arnold demanded, his arms folded together as he stood unflinchingly. "And don't give me that line about Arnie inviting you again!"
"Arnie did invite me, Football-Head!" protested Helga. "He was bragging about his farm and how great it was the last time he visited. It's true he never meant much by it, but I was desperate so when I found out you were leaving for the summer I called him up and got myself invited for real." Helga left out that she snuck into Arnold's room and did his telephone to do so.
"Whatever could have made you so desperate? Is there something going on at home?" Arnold asked, the boy's anger softening a little as he searched Helga's face. She turned her back and paced.
"I guess you could say that Arnoldo! Mom and Dad got this great idea in their head to send me off to summer boot camp with Sergeant Goose although I don't know what I did to deserve that! Somehow they think they'll be doing me the greatest favor, ever. I ditched camp and came out here instead!" said Helga pointing her thumb towards the farmhouse they had not yet entered.
"So you're telling me, that you RAN AWAY?!" said Arnold, his eyes wide and incredulous. "Your parents must be worried sick about you, Helga."
"Nah, they think I'm still at camp with Sergeant Goose!" said Helga. "Relax, Football-Head. "I took care of everything. The camp thinks I'm home with my parents because I was too sick to go after all. So nobody knows I'm missing! It's perfect!"
"Helga!" said Arnold, still flabbergasted. "You need to tell someone where you are right now!"
"You aren't going to squeal on me, are you Football-Head?" asked Helga. The fear on her face was real as she recoiled from Arnold.
"Well, no," said Arnold. He thought. "How about this? You at least tell Phoebe where you are so that if her parents do start looking for you, they can find you. Does that sound fair?"
"If I have to Football-Head, then fine. It's a deal," Helga said offering her hand in a shake. Arnold shook it briefly although his face showed he was still not happy about the whole thing. Not happy at all.
"So," said Arnie as Helga and Arnold walked back into earshot again. "Everything okay?"
"Everything's fine!" Helga answered Arnie a little too shrilly. But Arnie's inexpressive face remained flat of emotion. He snorted loudly as he commonly did.
"You want to see my lintball collection?" Arnie asked looking at Helga. Helga froze in horror temporarily, but then forced her mouth open to give a fake, toothy grin. After all, it was this, or go back home to Hillwood and Sergeant Goose.
"Sure! Lecture away, professor! I'm sure we'll learn something...er… new."
"'Kay," said Arnie. Helga and Arnold followed him up a narrow stair.
Arnie's room was every bit as plain as the boy. The walls were painted white. The bed was a brass frame lifting a single mattress off the floor. The floor was made of wooden boards stretched from end to end of the comfortably-sized room. But the room was barren of art, houseplants, or even furniture. The only other furniture piece than the bed was a tall dresser with eight drawers. Arnie pulled opened one of the smaller drawers on top. It was too high for the kids to see into, so he removed the drawer from the dresser completely and carried it over to the bed to set it in the better light through the single window.
"See?" said Arnie pointing to the lint balls. "I've collected lint from every pair of pants I've ever owned!" The boy then proceeded to point to lint balls of subtly different shades. Helga and Arnold could not help themselves. They recoiled and shared a mutual look of terror while Arnie stooped over his corduroy lint in shades of brown, blue, black, and green. The boy spoke of them like they were a designer clothes collection.
"So," said Arnie after they had dallied over his lint collection twenty minutes too long. "What do you think?"
"Well. It's really.. Interesting," Arnold said politely. Arnie snorted.
"Thanks. You'll want to meet Abigail."
"Great," said Arnie prepared to lead them downstairs.
"Say, Arnie?" Helga asked slyly before they reached the door. "There's one thing. Can I borrow your phone for a minute? You know, to let my folks know I got here okay."
"Okay," was Arnie's response. Arnold pounced on the opportunity.
"You know, I should call my 'folks', too," Arnold mimicked. "To let them know how things are going. How about you wait for us on the porch, Arnie? We'll meet you soon."
"Kay," said Arnie. He blinked, his eyes oddly shutting one full second after the other in perfect insynchronicity. As soon as Arnold's cousin left the room, Arnold sprang for the phone. He snatched the receiver up and covered its earpiece with his hand to dampen the buzzing of the dial tone. Helga paused mid step, agap at Arnold's motion.
"Arnold? What are you doing?" Helga asked, her hands on her hips. Arnold narrowed his eyes at her and glared.
"Just making sure you aren't about to back out of staying here. Helga, I changed my mind. You CAN'T leave me alone here with him!" Arnold said, his anger turning to outright begging. But Helga scoffed and pulled the telephone receiver from his hand.
"Relax, Football-Head! I'm just going to call Phoebe like you wanted."
"Good. That's great," said Arnold, his eyes rounded with relief. "Do you mind if I tell Grandpa, too? He's good at keeping secrets."
"Well, I'll trust to that, Arnoldo. Suit yourself."
"Thanks," said Arnold as Helga punched in the number to Phoebe's house. Helga and Phoebe exchanged excited dialog, briefly, as Arnold waited. Helga hung up and offered him the phone.
"Here ya go! Don't take too long, Arnoldo!" Helga warned. "Your cousin is waiting!"
"Thanks," returned Arnold. He dialed the phone number to the boarding house.
"Hello? Grandpa? It's me, Arnold. I wanted to let you know I'm at Arnie's house. Yeah, I know! No, of course it isn't! Grandpa!" Arnold's eyes narrowed as the sound of laughter carried through the phone and echoed slightly into the room for Helga to hear. "Now look, Grandpa! There's something else I need to tell you. Helga's with me. No, that's right." Arnold paused. He waited for an answer and when it did, the boy's cheeks turned bright red.
"Grandpa!" Arnold scolded the phone, his second hand on his hip. "No I didn't! No I wouldn't! Argh. It's not that funny. Just don't let Helga's parents know unless they know she's missing. For the last time, Grandpa, we're just friends and I didn't kidnap anyone. Argh! Good bye!" Arnold hung up the phone quickly.
"Your Grandpa still poking fun at you?" Helga stated mildly.
"Yeah," said Arnold. "He does like doing that. Ordinarily it doesn't bother me though." Arnold shrugged.
Both phone calls completed, Arnold and Helga hurried out of the house to the front porch. Arnie waited for them on a rocking chair. He snorted, then stood up.
"Let's go," the boy said without preamble. Arnold and Helga followed him over toward the barn.
"This is my pig, Abigail," the boy said blandly. He snorted loudly. Abigail the pig snorted, too. Then Arnie pointed to a blue ribbon nailed onto the edge of the small shed that sheltered Abigail from the hot sun.
"Best of show last year!" Arnie announced proudly. "Sold her piglets for a lot of money."
"You sold her piglets?" Arnold asked, horrified as he leaned against the pen's railing. He could never imagine selling Abner or piglets if he had any.
"Well, it is a farm!" Helga said loudly, grounding Arnold back in painful realism. That was exactly what farms did do. Grow plants and animal for food, not pets.
"Well, so are you going to eat her?" asked Arnold still feeling a bit nervous. He curled one finger uncertainly up to his chin as his imagination went wild. What if tonight's dinner was Abigail ham? Arnie sniffed.
"Probably not," the boy declared. Despite the bland monotone of his voice in general, Arnie did manage to sound annoyed with his city cousin.
"Let's go over to the neighbor's. Fifi raises pigs."
"Fifi?!" asked Arnold. His mind cast back to the nightmare he had once dreamed about Arnie and two girls named Lulu and Hilda. One of the many visitors to his dream had been a girl called Fifi. Arnold hoped that his past nightmare was not coming true.
"I've told you about her before," Arnie complained. Arnold forced a smile.
"Oh yeah. How many students did you say were in your class again?"
"Four," said Arnie with a loud sniff. "Three boys. One girl."
"Well that explains a lot!" quipped Helga, folding her arms. Arnold thought deeply.
"What did you say their names were again?"
"Stumpy, Fifi, and Harry," Arnie listed. "I'm the fourth."
"Of course you are," said Helga so rudely that Arnold gave her light jab in the ribs.
"Ow!" Helga murmured before quieting. Arnie watched the interchange with a frown. Then he walked forward.
"Helga, you can ride with me!" the boy country boy said.
"Ride?" asked Helga with real curiosity. "Ride what?"
It was a long way to even the neighbor's farm house so it made little sense to walk. But Helga was astounded when Arnie opened up one of the barn doors to reveal a Utility ATV with shiny red-orange paint.
"1985 Suzuki LT250EF Quadrunner. V-4 engine, 6 speed transmission with drive shift, water cooled. Five point nine inch ground clearance. Custom backrest."
"Wow!" said Helga. Despite her profound disliking of Arnie, she was so impressed she clasped her hands. Arnold narrowed his eyes at Helga's reaction. Much like a go-cart but with high wheels like a car, it was stunning.
"Here," Arnie said tossing Helga a helmet. With a crazy grin, she strapped it on. Arnie switched on the ATV's engine.
"I'll send Fifi over to pick you up," Arnie promised. He left Arnold behind in a cloud of powdery farm dust. Arnold covered his mouth and coughed once. Then he balled his hands into fists on either side. Without a doubt, Arnie was pushing it!
But before Arnold had decided to jog down the road himself, a smaller, slender, blue ATV showed up to collect him. This must be Fifi, Arnold guessed. But unlike the Fifi of Arnold's imagination, this Fifi did not appear to be oriental at all. Her long black hair was the only thing oriental, and it was too curly to meet the stereotype. She was not a bad looking girl, and Arnold might have crushed on her, if he was not so wrath at his cousin for driving off with Helga!
"Hi. I'm looking for Arnold," said Fifi. Arnold did his best to smile.
"That's me. I'm Arnold."
"Oh!" said Fifi. "I thought you were Arnie!"
"Ah, no, Arnie sent you to come get me remember?" Arnold asked uncertainly.
"Oh, that's right!" said Fifi. "Arnie is waiting by the pigpen. Hop on!" Fifi stated. She patted on the rear of the seat she was on. Arnold was forced to cling onto the girl to avoid falling off the narrow seat. The way this girl drove terrified him. She was just as bad as Phoebe back home, that was for sure! She floored the gas so rapidly he thought he was going to fall off!
Arnold's poor head was still dazed from all the near-death swerves and jumps that encompassed Fifi's driving style when they rolled up next to an enormous barn. There were smaller pens and huts strung out into a long line opposite the barn's gravel boundary. Helga peered into one of the pens at one of these, while Arnie silently watched Helga pace and laugh at one of the piglets expense when it got its head caught in a paper box. But animosity bubbled deep within Arnold's chest. He would not stand there while his cousin admired Helga like a prize-winning mare! When Helga turned to chat with Arnie about something trivial, Arnold ducked down low instead and snaked his way between Helga and his cousin. He stood upright between the two like a wall. Fifi watched the exchange with keen interest.
"Hm," Fifi said as if considering the details of fine art.
Fifi showed them around the farm as promised. Then, out of the blue, two more guests appeared. One of the was a large-headed yet thin, muscular boy on a green dirtbike. That was Harry. The other came on a real live horse. The taller of the two bore a striking resemblance to Stinky Peterson. Arnold stared.
"This is Stumpy. My boyfriend," said Fifi with a sideways glance. She held her hand aloft at this grand unveiling. Arnie sniffed a little louder than usual.
"This is my cousin," Arnie said. "And this is Helga. A friend from Hillwood."
"A friend, hm?" said Fifi with cunning. Helga stood between the two cousins and both were staring with tense interest. Not the relaxed air of 'just friends.'
"Hm, well since we're all here, let's have us a little race!" Fifi announced. "Have you ever ridden before, Arnold?"
"Well, I have ridden a little bit. I was the winning jockey for a racing mule race back in Hillwood," Arnold offered. "Blueboy won!"
"Great!" said Fifi smiling. "Since you're such a hot shot, I'm certain that a little old pig race won't bother you," said Fifi sounding a lot like Lila Sawyer. But more openly obnoxious.
"What's a pig race?" Arnold asked innocently.
"We'll just borrow some of pa's pigs for some sport. My uncle will round them up later," said Fifi.
"Isn't that kind of… wrong?" asked Arnold. Arnie sniffed loud in annoyance.
"Oh Arnold!" said Fifi. "Don't be so prim and proper! My uncle won't mind. Us people out in the country have to have fun somehow! Now, are you in? Or are you scared?"
"Football-Head here ain't scared of anything!" came a sudden shout from Helga. She moved herself to stand toe-to-toe with Fifi, and towered over her for Fifi was about the same height as Phoebe. Fifi glared up at Helga, unflinching.
"Then how about we make this interesting?" said Fifi. "A dare! We'll make today a contest. Whoever wins the most events by sundown gets a kiss. From Helga!" Fifi said with shrewd and evil cunning that would do Helga proud. Helga flushed.
"Me? Kiss anyone? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! No way I'm interested in that mushy stuff!" Helga protested. She tugged at her shirt collar. The very thought of kisses made her temperature skyrocket. What if the one she wound up kissing was Arnold? But what if it was Arnie? Helga almost shuddered with horror at that thought.
"What? Are you scared?" asked Fifi, her eyes narrowed.
"Of course she isn't!" Arnold spoke up, surprising Helga. "Right, Helga?" Arnold looked up at Helga with softer eyes, yet madness swirled within. Arnie and Fifi had brought out his competitive side.
"N..nn..nah! Of course I ain't!" Helga mumbled awkwardly under Arnold's hot gaze.
"Great," said Arnie. The boy gave a loud snort and blinked, all while chewing some gum. "I'm going to win that kiss!" he declared boldly in his odd monotone. Incensed, Arnold curled a fist up at his side and shifted his weight forward to one foot.
"Oh yeah?" said Arnold, his voice taking on an unusual chill. "No way anyone's getting that kiss but me!" The two cousins faced off with one another and Helga gaped. Then Helga's jaw closed. She observed the two boys appreciatively instead.
"Wow, this is getting interesting!" Helga declared close to a cruel cackle. Arms crossed, Fifi nodded behind her like a devilish version of Phoebe Heyerdahl.