"The Pink Ribbon that He Untied"
a Hey Arnold fanfic by Pyrex Shards
Arnold counted the fifth time that the dance music changed in beat while the two wallflowers sat against opposing walls in the hallway. He was lost in thought as he gently prodded his chin with a finger while putting light pressure over his stomach with his other arm. It felt like indigestion, or even nausea, and he had to admit that he never suspected that Helga had such strong fists.
'Funny,' is the word he thought, about how he ended up in this mess. Arnold could choose very easily between wallflower and taken. He was, after all, the most easily approachable guy in the ninth grade. Everybody in his class liked him or tolerated him enough for casual conversation. Girls, the popular, very attractive aspiring actress types, flirted with him. Well, all except Lila. Any one of those girls could have been potential dates; all he had to do was ask. This was not a self-centered thought, for friends like Gerald and Sid mentioned it to him on many occasions when he was feeling down about life.
Instead he chose wallflower. The reason sat across from him on the opposite wall. Helga did not sit directly across from Arnold. She could stare forward and not be forced into eye contact with him. She had her arms around her knees, and her stare spoke volumes about how uncomfortable she was with the situation. Every now and then she'd reach a hand behind her head and rub it, wincing at the sensations. She had bumped her head against the wall when Arnold threw her off of him. Arnold felt that she did deserve it. It at least made up for the pain he felt.
The funniest part about this whole thing, he reasoned, was that the fight was in no way two-sided. Arnold did not intend for Helga to start punching him. Actually he didn't even know what he intended. Just that in a pain induced fit of rage, he had to act, even if it went against the teachings his grandmother instilled in him about Karate. Helga had been beating him up in many ways since preschool. Was he acting in self defense? She pushed him into the wall then walked away. He didn't have to defend himself, did he?
Well. Yeah...
He was tired of Helga's crap. Most of all, he was tired of the reason he got into this entire mess in the first place. He looked at Helga, and asked. "So do you think you can tell me about what happened?"
Helga made eye contact with him for a brief moment before averting her gaze again, this time at the blue baseball cap that sat to her right. It beckoned for her to pick it up, so she did. She held it in her hands, idly rotating it around nervously with her fingers. It gave her some relief, she knew, from all the tension she felt. Like a taut rubber band. Through the hall, the dance music continued to echo. It was barely a half hour since their fight, and they were getting nowhere.
"If you're so smart, Arnoldo, then why did you let me take it all back?" She asked with a half-assed rage in her voice. How could she rage against Arnold at this moment? She couldn't. She didn't even deserve, she felt, to be within his general vicinity at the time. So she tried to gather her defenses, even if they had crumbled right after she threw the last punch into Arnold's stomach and backed away in agonizing despair over what she had just done.
Arnold stopped prodding his chin with his fingers and simply let his hand rest in his lap. "What would have happened if I didn't?"
Helga shook her head. "Do you realize how much control you have over me?"
Arnold stared at Helga in shock, then he smirked. "I wouldn't call what just happened to me, being in control."
Helga couldn't respond. She simply looked down at the baseball cap in her hands. She stopped rotating it, but tried to focus on the stitch lines, trying deperately to hide her senses between those same lines, to escape.
Helga had said Arnold was in control. Though he couldn't believe it after his run-in with 'Ol Betsy and the Five Avengers. Perhaps she was half-right? Perhaps if he changed the subject to something a little more direct. "If you're in love with me then why keep it all bottled up?
Helga looked up at Arnold, panic struck across her face, and then looked away quickly.
Arnold sighed in frustration, did he really have that much control? "Okay. I'll tell you why I think you keep it all bottled up. I think you're scared."
Helga's mood changed in the blink of an eye. She laughed and looked back at him, relieved that she could at least get one brick up in her wall. She could get some control back from Arnold. "Scared of what? You?"
"Perhaps... Perhaps not. " Arnold smiled. Finally... Progress...
Helga smiled. "No. I'm not afraid of you."
"Then what are you afraid of?" Arnold raised his hands in a shrug.
Helga's smile faded again. Inwardly she sighed. Arnold already had her secret, or part of it, concerning her love for him. The cat was out of the bag. The first base runner had stolen second. But she couldn't, she knew, handle the pain that was to come from this. "Do I have to draw a road map back to FTi? If everything I said up there was true, and I'm not committing to anything, ya hear me. So let's say that if everything up there was true, then think about what I might be truly afraid of absent of any fear I might have about you. What did I say up there?"
Arnold collected his memories and his gaze wandered for a moment before he looked back at Helga, a hunch in his mind. "Is this about the poetry and the shrine?"
Helga managed a little fire in her voice as her meager defenses kicked in. She didn't really think he'd remember that, so she already didn't like where this conversation was headed. But she pressed on. She had to win. "Ouch. Jeez football head. You're really direct with it aren't ya. So, hypothetically speaking, if I did have a shrine to you, and poetry dedicated to you. How would you feel about that?"
"I don't know, it would depend upon if it existed or not."
"Say it did."
Arnold shook his head and smiled. He had Helga, he knew he did. He had the control.
Helga sighed. "Fine." She closed her eyes. "Listen carefully. Arnold... I.. Ha... I... Have a shrine to you in my closet. It isn't the first. Miriam used to keep throwing them out and I had to rebuild them. I have volumes of poetry, all numbered and every one of them dedicated to you! There. Happy?"
"Woah. I, uh. Don't know what to say." He said as he replayed the events of the summer after fourth grade. He simply said things that came to mind verbatim, excluding sitting or laying down, for he already was sitting.
Helga stood and walked across the hall to Arnold where she abruptly sat back down, in front of him. Arnold didn't flinch. "How do you feel about that?" She pressed him. "How do you feel about the idea of me having a shrine and poetry all dedicated to you?"
"Speechless."
Helga threw up her hands. "Look at the comedian everyone, he's lost his voice."
Arnold shook his head and looked into her eyes. "Why, Helga?"
Helga momentarily lost herself in his eyes, but looked away. "Because I'm madly, madly in love with you." She admitted quietly.
There Arnold had it, amid the defeated profile of her face, the admission he sought after the first one got quelled by agreement that it didn't happen. This was what he was looking for. Was this the sway that Helga said he had over her? If so, then he liked his 'control' over her for that one reason.
"That is what I am afraid of Arnoldo. What are you're feelings for me? You need to admit this right now. I'm ugly and unattractive. I have a hideous unibrow." Helga paused and traced her eyebrow with an index finger. "My sister Olga took everything from the deep end of the gene pool and I got the bacteria-ridden brine on the shallow end. You could never love me. Not in a million years. If you knew just how deep my feelings for you go, you'd run for the hills."
Arnold reached up his hand and placed in on Helga's cheek, he gently turned her face so that she had to stare at his eyes. "No Helga." He said cautiously. He could feel fire again. "I'm not going to admit that"
Helga closed her eyes, swore to herself, brushed his hand off her cheek, then stood up and started pacing the hallway with Arnold's baseball cap still in her right hand. "Criminey! Look. You're lying to yourself. You know it's true. You've only been scoping out that firebrand redhead Lila ever since you laid eyes on her. Only now you're scoping out others too. When was the last time you saw me as anything other than ugly crusty Helga G. Pataki. The Blonde Terror of PS 118."
"Helga stop it. Why are you doing that to yourself?"
"No, you stop it Arnoldo. I don't need your pity."
"I'm not pitying you."
"Then why are you lying to me?"
Arnold stood up and faced Helga. "I'm not lying to you!"
Helga looked at Arnold, into his eyes. "Yes you are! Why would you, you cornflower-haired, handsome," Helga's voice cracked, "football head of a hunk who girls will eventually swoon over at the mention of your name, take any interest in me? Look at me Arnold!" Tears welled up in her eyes. "Get a good look!"
She stood in front of him, almost in his face. She could see him flinch for a second and she felt once again, something die inside of her along with her screaming heart. But with her point proven, she felt, she continued amid wavering words punctuated by tears. "I'm going to be like this forever. My body's awkward, my face is awkward, this bow is awkward, everything about me is awkward. If I let you get close to me, like right now, where my breath tickles your nostrils, if you breathe me in, you'll see me for who I really am, and you'll back away like you are now! Admit it!" She yelled and pushed at him.
Arnold had already started backing away but the force made him grunt quietly as he looked at Helga blankly. She turned around and leaned against the wall, where she cried silently into his cap. She'd done it again. She'd hurt him physically. She slowly slid down the wall until her legs were curled up underneath her, and she continued to lean against the wall.
Arnold shook his head. If this was his control over her, he hated it. He hated it to the core...
Another dance song faded away, to be replaced with an old-school dance song he instantly recognized by the singers opening of "Dah dah dah dah dad, ditita ta tay. Dah dah dah dah dad, ditita ta tay. Dah dah dah dah dad, ditita ta tay. ditita ta tay ditita ta tay This is Your Niiiiiiiiiiight..." But he tuned out the beat and the lyrics almost as quickly as he heard them.
He slowly lowered himself down to sit against the wall, beside Helga, and looked at her. He didn't say anything. He was at a loss for words. Beside him sat Helga G. Pataki. Broken. Completely broken. Her hands, still clutching his cap for dear life, laid on her lap as she leaned into the wall facing Arnold. Her eyes were closed but tears stained her eyelashes and streaked down her cheeks. He realized that he had never seen her cry before, and it was heart-wrenching to see her face contorted into an agonizing tightness. Completely at a loss about what he should do in this situation. He let his mind wander to times past, wondering what could have happened differently to prevent this.
Finally he found his voice in an admission he knew he needed to make. "I was a fool back then, for letting you off the hook so easily. We should never have admitted that it didn't happen. Look Helga. You should know... That. Dang it. How should I say this? You see Helga, there are times when I think I really do have a crush on you. But, I wouldn't say I'm, in love, with you."
Helga opened her eyes. She could see the outline of his head against the blur of her tears. She knew, she could just get up and run. She could run away and end this. She could do a million things other than stay, but she'd given up. She'd thrown herself to the wolf and there was nothing left but to sit there and face judgment for making it hard to be consumed. Damn him! She managed the venom to say. "A crush. Ha ha ha. Screw you."
Arnold closed his again eyes and shook his head. "And screw you for putting me through hell since preschool. That evens things out."
"No it doesn't. We'll never be even. Why do you even care, dork." Despite the tears on her face, Arnold could hear the walls of her shell again. As if the bully was back to cover up the broken pieces as she slowly put them back together again into an awkward mess.
But she'd given him an opening that he could pry, and Arnold realized this. "Why do I care about someone who just kicked the crap out of me?" He mustered up his courage. This was going to take a sacrifice. The sight of Helga, broken, sitting before him trying to resolve herself back into a horrible monster, gave him a sense of urgency.
"You may be thinking that I don't remember, back in preschool. Oh yes Helga, I remember. Did you ever stop to think what may have been going through my head when I shared my umbrella with you. How about when I gave you my graham crackers?"
Helga's breathing slowed and she stared at Arnold intently. Arnold could swear that her eyes had lit up with an intensity he rarely ever saw. That must have been a cherished moment for the both of them, not just him.
So Arnold, with Helga's undivided attention, began in monologue. "I'm an orphan. My grandparents try their hardest, but they're still my grandparents. Despite all they did to take care of me, despite all the efforts of those boarders, I felt like a ship that had lost its rudder. I still do. I miss my parents so much. Do you want to know how much I cried? Do you want to know how much I still cry when I'm alone and I think of them?" He looked at Helga for any reaction, but received none, just the same look of wonder in her eyes. So he continued...
"You may think this is silly, but you gave me a purpose in life Helga. When I saw you standing there in the rain, like a little frightened turtle. You were all covered in mud. My heart went out to you. So when I got out of my grandpa's car, and approached you, I did so because I saw you suffering, and it reminded me so much of my own longing for my parents. For someone to do something for me. It felt like the least I could do for you."
Arnold chuckled. "This is going to sound corny, but it's like you were a present for me, tied up with a bow. I still like your bow."
"Cause its pink..." Helga said quietly.
"...like your pants." Arnold finished the shared memory. Helga seemed to perk up. She looked relieved, somehow, as Arnold stared at her changing demeanor, that Arnold himself had remembered that day, and what happened.
Helga simply stared at Arnold, her bloodshot but brilliant blue eyes beckoned him to continue, so he did. "I didn't have words to describe the way I felt then. But now that I look back on it. I think I had a little crush on you back then. That was a brief day in which you were my world. I watched you the entire time. Stole glances in your direction. I felt like somehow I needed to watch over you that day, to protect you. I saw you hurting again whenever Harold Berman stole your graham crackers. I did what I felt was right. I got up, and I walked over to you, and I offered you mine. My heart seemed to become a feather whenever you accepted. I felt like I truly was helping you, and it felt so good. It momentarily gave me these little fleeting images of my parents, that happiness I had when they were around."
He looked away from Helga, Arnold face darkened and he closed his eyes. He hated this part. His eyes misted as he relived the emotions he had experienced. "I lost you that same moment. When I caused everyone to laugh at you. When I caused you pain. That hurt Helga, oh god that hurt... I felt like I had failed you, caused you to hide. I felt like when my parents left that day long ago, never to return. I lost so much. I wanted to be your friend, and I felt like I failed you."
"You created me Helga. You defined who I am. You... Gave me a purpose that day... That day I resolved that I would never let anyone down like I let you down. You're the reason I try to help people so much. Your the reason for my empathy, understand. Everyone I've helped so far, everything I've done to try and make a difference for someone wasn't for me, it was all for you. That's why it hurts me so much to see you like this. So angry all the time. Some kind of stupid school bully."
"I'm not in love with you, Helga." Arnold reached out his hand cautiously, and put it over Helga's hands. She simply continued to stare at him, the tears on her face had dried but the stain was still there. "But... I do have a love for you, and I care about your wellbeing. Because you made me who I am today."
Helga gently lifted her hands and pushed Arnold's fingers away. She hated breaking that precious contact she so sought after, but she knew now that Arnold's intentions were not the same as hers. She spoke softly, like her own emotional shield at that time, soft but strong. "Don't you see Arnold? You just proved what I'm trying to say. You could never be in love with me because I have nothing left to offer you. I'm not who you really want. You may have lost me, but I've never had you." She shook her head. "I never will."
After all that! After what Arnold had said! He frowned, then grabbed his cap from the floor between them, and returned it to his head. He had one more card, and he was going to play it whether Helga liked it or not. "Helga. There's something I want to do. Now, you must promise me that you will not stop me when you see what I'm going to do, because it's rather personal, and it's part of a deep secret that I have been keeping since the fourth grade.
Helga said nothing. She searched his eyes curiously for a second, and then crossed her arms against her chest, satisfied that he held no ill intentions. "Sure. Whatever floats your boat. But make it quick."
"Okay." Arnold agreed. He then reached one hand up, but stopped, hesitant, his fingers between Helga's face and his. Helga arched half of her eyebrow at him, but then as he closed his eyes briefly, opened them, then leaned towards her with both his hands reaching up for the top of her head, Helga froze in place.
His fingers gently pinched the tails of her pink ribbon. He could feel the texture of the ribbon, it was soft, like silk. He tugged at it for a moment, making sure that it was free to untie just by pulling at the tails, which he did, slowly. The beautiful bow knot began to unravel. Then the knot disappeared, leaving the ribbon loose around Helga's head, her pigtails deformed into a mass of hair. Arnold let go of one end of the ribbon, and leaned back to sit, pulling the ribbon around and off of her head.
The sight before him brought back memories of a valentines day that he sorely missed. Helga's hair had fallen in place quite nicely, cascading around her head, only slightly bent from it's time pulled into two pigtails. But the way her hair curled around to the front of her face, to cover one of her eyes, adding to her that mystery that he lost himself in. He simply smiled softly and said...
"Hello Cecile."
Helga stammered for words. She blushed feverishly. "You... Knew..."
Arnold's smile broadened. "Not at the time. But, I had developed a sneaking suspicion after all that we went through these past years. Cecile is there. I can hear her voice in yours from time to time. I've met her before, actually, back in preschool. The day I shared my umbrella with you. You have a beautiful you inside. The real you. I'm seeing her right now. She goes by Cecile, but she desperately wants to be called by her old name. Helga."
But the Helga he knew for years fought on. "You're just doing this out of misplaced pity football head." She reached for his hands. "Give me that ribbon back."
"No." Arnold pushed back father away from Helga.
"What?" She yelled.
"I said no, I'm not giving you you're ribbon back!" Arnold reached into his pocket and withdrew a small swiss army knife, opened it, and as Helga looked on in terror, he looped a length of the ribbon around the blade, and pulled. There was a quiet tear and the ribbon ripped in two right at the blade.
Helga started shaking in panic. "Do you realize what you've just done? I can't let people see me like this!"
"Why? Are you afraid our friends will laugh at you? Are you afraid they'll see the real you?" He asked as he looped some more of the ribbon around the knife blade and pulled the ribbon into three pieces. He continued this again. Helga watched in fear, but at the same time, something else came out of this, fascination, as Arnold smiled at her. He pulled a increasingly smaller loop of the ribbon through, and the pieces collected between them. When he was satisfied he had destroyed the ribbon, he folded the knife and put it back in his pocket.
Helga reached down with her hands and started frantically scooping up the remnants of the ribbon, but Arnold stopped her. "Leave them." He then stood up, pulling Helga to her feet along with him.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Because you said that I have control over you."
Helga forcefully pulled her hands away from Arnold's grasp and turned away, her hair, free from its ribbon, fanned around. "You don't understand what I meant by that football head."
Arnold sighed in frustration. He turned away for a moment to collect his thoughts, then he caught site of his reflection in the glass of the doors leading outside. The dark, clouded night gave a perfect reflection, and he noticed Helga standing beside him. He smiled and turned around, then placed a hand on Helga's shoulder. "Come here. I want you to see something."
Helga simply nodded and Arnold lead her to the darkened glass door, where he stood beside her and they looked at there reflections. "Here. Look." Arnold said excitedly. "See yourself in the reflection. You look so cute with your hair down. Do you see what I saw at Ches Paris?"
"It's just my hair." She said dismissively, blushing, but refusing to meet her own eyes.
"Look." Arnold shook his head. Helga found that she could look at his reflection in the incidental mirror, so she did. "I'm not going to pretend like I never saw you with that locket, or the way you stammer whenever we run into each other, which happens a lot I might add. Or whenever I found you on my fire escape. Or whenever I was playing cards with all the other guys and you suddenly appear from behind my couch. I had my suspicions for a long time. The roof of FTi pretty much confirmed that. I'm going to ask you something now. You're going to have to trust me again. But..."
"Would you be my girlfriend?"
His question sang into her ear. But no, she wouldn't get her hopes up. She let her shoulders drop and she hugged herself with her hands. Feeling nothing like when she had dreamed about this moment. Was Arnold asking her, or an ideal? "Are you asking Helga? Or are you asking Cecile?"
"I'm asking for Helga's permission to ask Helga if I can be her boyfriend. If Cecile wouldn't mind, of course. I think, perhaps, in the future I may be able to feel the same way about her that she does for me. If she'd just give us a chance."
Arnold was giving her a chance. He was giving her a real chance! A new fire lit in her heart. Suddenly the lack of that familiar ribbon in her hair no longer mattered. Nothing mattered but the two of them and the reflections in the mirror. The tension for a brief moment, faded. "Sorry Bucko, but you have to ask me properly." She teased him.
"Will you go out with me?" Arnold asked again. Helga's heart, at that moment, nearly melted.
"I." But wait? They were different from each other. What about everyone else? Helga couldn't stand the torture. Arnold wouldn't like to be around her if they laughed at him all the time. It would never work out. "Uh. No. Arnoldo. I'm the bully at school, you do realize that. We can't start sitting together at lunch like we're a pair of old chums. There's people out there who would... Laugh at me, at you."
"Let them. I'll be there for you. But you have to say yes, and you have to be there for me as well. Helga, I'm going out on a limb here, for you. I want to try being part of your world. But you have to let me in. And I think this is the only way to do that properly. It would be too awkward otherwise, knowing that you feel the way you do about me. I really do care about you. Perhaps I can feel the same way about you that you feel about me, in time."
Helga walked over and leaned back against the corner of the entry, arms folded, looking intently at Arnold. He continued, prompted only by her silence. "So. I'm going to ask you once more. Please. Helga. Take this leap. Be my girlfriend. Let's continue what we started at Ches Paris."
Inside, Helga was a mess of emotions. There were so many things that could go wrong. A truly infinite number. She knew this would fail. How could it work? But, better to indulge if only so she could say that she did. Right? "Please kiss me and tell me I'm not dreaming."
At her command Arnold walked up to her, and leaned in. He did kiss her, but he only brushed his lips against hers for a few moments. Still, the electricity of those heavenly lips, that friction against hers, made her melt once again. Her heart raced. This was it. This is what she was waiting for. "You're not dreaming." He said as he brought a hand up to her cheek. In his eyes, she could sense, she could feel, she hoped, that he felt the same thing.
"We'll take this one day at a time, okay." Arnold reached down and took Helga's hands. He laced his fingers with hers
"This is going to be a trial Arnold." She shook her head, eyes closed. "I have a lot of enemies."
Arnold stood back and tugged Helga away from the corner with his hands. "I think they'll see you differently tomorrow."
"I sincerely hope so. I'm not giving up the poetry by the way."
Arnold turned to walk down the hallway. Helga followed beside him. They stopped at the ribbon and looked down at it. Arnold looked at Helga's expression as her eyes focused on the remnants of the ribbon at their feet. Her expression seemed forlorn, uncomfortable. He simply reached over, took her hand into his, and squeezed it reassuringly. "Perhaps you'll let me read some of it? It is dedicated to me after all.
"It depends. Would you mind if I still tied ribbons in my hair?"
"No. I wouldn't mind at all. I still like your ribbon."
Helga chuckled. "You have a funny way of showing it."
Arnold ran a hand through his hair, thankful that his pains earlier had been reduced to a small headache. He laughed nervously. This time Helga squeezed his hand and he looked at her. That haunting blue eye that he could see through her hair, even against the slight red from crying earlier, looked absolutely reassuring that somehow, he had done the right thing. He saw love there, and for the first time, he truly felt that perhaps he could indeed fall in love with Helga. He smiled. "Shall we go back to the dance? It's probably almost over anyway."
"What about your chin?"
"If anyone asks, you beat me up."
They stepped over the remnants of the pink ribbon that he untied. They held hands as they opened the hollow metal door to the gymnasium, and Helga led Arnold in. The door shut, leaving the ribbon on the floor for the janitor. None would be the wiser as to what took place...
The night that Helga beat up Arnold, and broke out of her shell...
End
Author's Corner
Yep. There was lots of warm fuzzies in this part. I felt entitled so I did it. Next up on my plate is chapter three of Bluebird. I'm working on it ever so slowly, but this was an unfinished project I had stored on my hard drive for a long time. I finally got the guts to finish it.
Many thanks to The J.A.M. for the enlightening conversation I had last night with him over IM involving the FTi incident from the movie. He gave me a new way to think about the entire Helga confession scene. There's a few lines in here that were dedicated to you dude! I hope you enjoyed them.
The song briefly mentioned is titled This Is Your Night by Amber. It is a song that is pretty easy to recognize just by the repetitive lyrics to the intro. Perhaps the lyrics mean something in my story, perhaps not. I just felt that it worked.
This little project is completed. I could use it in later stories though. You never know.
Reviews are appreciated and I make it a point to reply to all my reviews.
Thanks for reading!