He could see the bandage that crossed his pet. Fortunately, it was a carefree one at that and very intelligent. It knew the ins and outs of the neighborhood such as going to his best friend's house. Rubbing his hand over it, the grey feathers were smooth to the touch while having that gentle attitude that made the boy smile. Sometimes he wondered why people called pigeons disgusting birds. That wasn't true. He smiled though as the rumbling from Chester's upper body grew louder.
The cold was getting worse as the winds were hitting against Arnold's back. And surprisingly his carrier pigeon was somehow unaffected. He knew he should be concerned about the creature, but the fact that Chester was healing was all that mattered. And besides, he was going to take him to Gerald's for a few weeks. Ever since Pigeon Man left, Gerald and Arnold began to look up information on how to take care of them better instead of just feeding them and giving them water. He shuddered with goose bumps as they shot up his arms. Even folding them to his body wasn't helping as his green eyes were practically shut.
Yet somehow the weather calmed him down. Arnold hadn't felt this way since his birthday twelve days ago, and even more at the now eleven-day mark. Sure it was one day's difference, but it meant a lot to him. He probably wrote the best essay he ever worked on! And he could only hope that it would lead to something great. He couldn't even describe the feeling even if he tried. Because if it did truly happen in his wildest dreams, then time could only tell how he would react. Would he be in shock and faint? Would there be tears? Would he even smile?
However, he had his doubts at the same time which was why he was up there in the first place. Since this was reality, would he even win the contest? What if he didn't? What if he never knew? Would he be jealous enough to hate whoever else won? Arnold shook his head at the thought. He was on fire enough as it was. He was just getting worked up. Maybe he was overestimating himself. His blonde hair blew in the wind. It seemed like he was already crying, even if it was from closing his eyelids so tightly.
It was hard, really hard. He knew he was more of a dreamer than a realist. So, as an unnoticed tear escaped his right eye, he accepted the face that the chances were he wouldn't win. There were probably a load of city kids that wrote discoveries that even he couldn't imagine. His sulk grew. "It probably doesn't matter that I wrote about ten or more pages. They want a good story; not one with just a bunch of dumb words." He felt uncomfortable. He was excited, but desperate; happy, but sad; peaceful, but energized. Arnold knew he was told over and over again that he looked on the bright side a lot. But they brought him very good memories with his family and friends. That was what helped him deal with it.
Arnold looked to the future. However, with it being as uncertain as it stood, he could only rely on the better moments to cheer himself on.
He clutched his jacket tighter, not sure how much longer he could stay out there. Tomorrow was Monday, which meant that until then at minimum he wouldn't find out who won. The temperature was tearing at his skin. The funny thing was that he wanted to stay outside. It was obviously better than pacing in his room. He didn't want to be selfish. But that was the problem. He could feel his lips chap up as the weather suddenly shoved itself in his face making him step back. Licking them, he continued his train of thought. "Wait a minute, what if one of my friends wins the contest? I mean, I would be happy for them. But what if I ended up hating them? I, I …don't know." Opening his eyes, he looked up at the shadows of the overpass highway. It looked very brand new for it being in an older neighborhood. But then again, it did get blown up several months ago. Well over a year actually. Arnold shook his head.
"Well, I have been on the craziest adventures haven't I?" Thinking back to what his friends and Mr. Huynh said on his birthday, it really was helping him feel better; almost reaching the point of being confident even.
"Well, I don't know much about that Arnold. But I must admit your room is sure nicer than my house or any room I've ever been in." A low voice spoke from behind his back. The boy's face grew wide. He knew who it was, but the man had never been on the roof before. Normally, he would see him on the streets with that good attitude of his except when the weather was unbearable. Turning around, Arnold saw as the man stepped up from the steps from his skylight. Who told him about that? He could have used the stairs. Another chill blew, but the blonde smiled regardless. Stepping away from his rumbling pigeon, he walked in front of the man dressed in a thin white and blue suit fit for the cold. "Hey Harvey," but his teeth chattered, "What...What are you…you doing up… here?"
The mailman rubbed his hands too through his gloves for warmth. Sure Arnold knew it was cold, but looking down at his fingers, the tips were starting to become blue. His green eyes widened. How long had he been up there? An hour? Two maybe? He probably should have put on gloves before heading outside. It was mid October!
He turned his attention back up to man and somehow remembered that Grandpa had told him he was an older friend of his dad's a couple of weeks ago. What if-
Harvey chuckled at the boy's confused face. "Well, I was purchasing chicken feed at the grocery store and bumped into your pal, Ernie right? The guy that said he would fry my chickens last year?" Arnold nodded dumbly still not quite getting it. That was when Gerald Field was founded. He bit his tongue to just stop him from thinking and let Harvey explain. The man didn't seem to notice. "Well, we started talking and he told me about what you were up to. And, uh, I wanted to talk to you too." He turned toward the stairwell and back to Arnold. "Do you mind getting those chairs Arnold?" At this the child blinked. That was weird.
First of all, it was freezing. And the mailman hated extreme weather. Why would he actually want to stay out there in the first place? Arnold stumbled on his words as he walked over to get the folded chairs."Well, don't, don't you want to, to go inside Harvey?" he asked as he touched the icy metal, "I know how you don't like this weath, weather." The chairs were heavier than he thought as he pulled them over to where he was standing. His fingers were numb by this point, wondering if temperature was all he could actually feel at this point.
Seeing him struggle, the older man chuckled and held out his hand that let Arnold know that he would handle setting up the chairs. "No, I don't mind. In fact, it seems right to sit up here." Returning his arms to his body, he could hear the squeaks of the seats unfolding and bumping as they were set in the middle of the rooftop. Here he was, on top of the boardinghouse with the generous mailman in the middle of cloudy windblown weather. It was almost similar to the conversation that he had with Mr. Huynh. And as Arnold watched Harvey take a seat, he felt a small spark of excitement shoot through him. If he was a friend of his father's childhood, then maybe this would be another moment where he could learn more about him. So he took his steps quickly as he sat across from him.
His breathing slowed down, hearing the blood pump in his ears. "So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Arnold gripped the chair tightly as his head hung and his legs kicked back and forth. Harvey raised an eyebrow as he tapped the kid's shoulder. "Now come on, Arnold, you're not in trouble. I'm just a friend who wanted to visit you." He smiled.
"I know Harvey. And I appreciate that you did. I was just thinking that's all." He mumbled the last sentence, hoping that the other didn't notice it. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Arnold's head lifted. "Well, what were you thinking about?" he questioned, "I can keep a secret." He removed his hand and tapped his fingers on his knees as he leaned toward him. He really meant it. And seeing that friendly grin on the man's face helped him feel good enough to tell him.
"Well, um, my grandpa and I were talking a few weeks ago. And at some point he brought up the fact that you were," he took in a deep breath and continued, "were, friends with my dad." His eyes watered a bit, the reality of the situation he was in still surprising. He wanted to know more stories, but now was afraid to ask. If he didn't win the contest, what was the point in knowing what else happened? Building up all of this drive only to have it shoved in his face? Yet at the same time he needed to get to know his parents in any way possible.
Harvey sat up straight and put a hand to his chin. "Your father huh?" he asked him. Arnold could see that he was holding something back. And for a few minutes neither of them said a thing – until the man laughed like no tomorrow. He scared the boy, causing him to flinch back in his seat. Surprisingly sweat dripped down the side of his face as he lifted his arm to cover it. "Harvey?" How could the mention of Arnold's father cause him to laugh?
Once he calmed down, the mailman put a hand to his chest but still chuckled. He wiped away what seemed to be a happy tear. When he opened his eyes, Arnold sighed in relief. "Oh, oh I'm sorry Arnold. I was just laughing about a good memory that I had with your dad." Harvey gave him a playful shove on his arm. He didn't know what to make of this other than feeling content knowing that Grandpa hadn't been lying. Sometimes he could make up stories to help him along.
So the excitement built up inside of him. "Really? What was it?"
And he knew that Harvey could tell. To him, he felt the same way again as he did when he and Grandpa had found the journal. Leaning back in the chair, the cold winds did not affect his friend the same way it affected him. Pushing his blond hair out of his face, Arnold smiled. Everyone that he got along with, even the adults, he considered his friends no matter what. He didn't think about it too much as he let Harvey tell him the story.
"Well, as you can tell, I am a few years older than your dad. But when we were kids, man he would get himself into the craziest situations." The man continued to chuckle. "Well, I would say us. But between you and me, I always found a way to escape." Arnold arched his gaze in wonder. His father got into trouble as a kid? The crazy situation thing he expected from what he read in the journal, but him being rebellious?
"Do you mean that he was a troublemaker?" he asked with worry. The man continued. "Oh no Arnold, he was a good guy. That's why we were friends in the first place. But he would pull a prank every once in a while for fun. And when he did, everyone knew that he was joking. But how we became friends was a memory I would never forget."
Now it was Arnold's turn to be serious. The tension, regardless of how Harvey saw it, was unbearable at this point. It didn't matter anymore if he was afraid or not or if it would only hurt him in the end. He had to know. If he had to ask everyone in Hillwood who knew his mother or father well enough to tell stories to him, well, it would almost be like they were there. It was better than nothing. Letting go of the seat, Arnold also sat up. "Well Harvey, how did you and my dad become friends?" The other stretched his arms and yawned a bit. The cold must have been making him tired. Now that Arnold thought about it, it was probably almost dinner time.
"Well, if I recall, your father was up on this roof coming up with a prank of his own. He meant for it to be for your grandfather. Although I heard that your grandmother had some say in it." The boy smirked at that. That sounded like Grandma alright. She always drove Grandpa crazy.
"What was the idea?" To be honest, Arnold loved this. It had to have a good ending.
Relaxing again, Harvey put his rough hand on Arnold's other shoulder. "Well, I guess seeing as how you and Gerald saved the neighborhood, this wouldn't seem surprising. But your grandfather had signed him up for the annual reenactment of the pig war with his other friends when they were a little older than you are. But your dad wasn't told this until the day before." At this, Arnold blinked. Grandpa had done the same thing with him?
"So, he had already learned about that tomato incident and thought he could "reenact" it. He had set up the plan and everything so that your grandfather was on the sidewalk. The catapult was made, by your father's hand of course. You know, I always wondered about how he managed to make that all on his own. But he also grabbed those British tomatoes. I was working at the paperboy back in the day. And as I was talking to your grandfather about something, he stepped back. And now, I didn't know what was going on. But the next thing I know, all I saw was red and tomato juice going down my face."
Arnold laughed at the story, even though it wasn't finished. But he only did because his grandfather seemed to not notice much when it came to schemes. So it was weird to learn that he actually could figure out when his dad was doing something. The mailman sat back in his chair.
What Arnold didn't notice, though, was that Harvey saw that he was helping the boy. The man beamed. "Anyway, I looked up to see even more red. Man, your dad was embarrassed! He didn't know that he had hit a total stranger. I guess he realized what he did wrong until he didn't hear Phil yelling. So he came downstairs and offered to help me clean up after apologizing. So we went up to his room and he looked for some clothes that he thought would help even though I said it was alright."
"But I couldn't help noticing that there was some blues music playing on the radio by his bed. Your dad wasn't noticing, so I sang to that incredible beat. I was so into the song that it took me a moment to realize that I wasn't the only one that was singing." Arnold could have sworn that his jaw dropped. "My, my dad sang the blues?" He pretty much shouted. Not that the blues was bad music, because it was good, but he would have thought that his dad would have been more likely to listen, or even sing jazz music instead. Harvey gripped his seat just as Arnold had done before. "Well, yeah he did," he laughed, "but he wasn't good. He was a romantic, but he has the smoothness similar to that kid that gets hurt all of the time…um what was his name?" Arnold stammered. "Eugene."
Harvey nodded. "Yeah, Eugene. Poor kid. Anyway, after that we laughed with each other since we both were embarrassed – your dad with the prank and me with my singing without knowing he was listening. And ever since then we have been good friends."
The boy blinked not fully understanding the man's words as he sat there with a big smile on his face. There was just something that wasn't quite right about it.
Arnold had to ask because it just didn't make any sense. "Harvey? Can I ask you something?"
He was rubbing his hands together. The winds had long since stopped and now it was just cloudy. But the temperatures didn't get any higher. They were still very chilly. Breathing more warmth into them, he looked up at the boy. "Sure Arnold. What is it?" His voice was deep, but very reassuring. After all, he had known Harvey since he was probably a baby and a friend of the family and the rest of the neighborhood. He could be trusted. "You, you said that you and my dad have been good friends." He started out with difficulty. Luckily the mailman pushed him on. Arnold really was struggling with asking him this. "And…" he gestured his hands to continue.
"You make it sound like he is still here, in Hillwood. I mean," He blushed a bit in nervousness as he rubbed his right arm, "you know he hasn't been here since I was very little and I don't understand why-" He couldn't finish his sentence though because he was wrapped in a one-armed hug from Harvey. Another tear slipped down his cheek. This, this was one of those moments that he knew he needed.
The mailman spoke calmly. "You see, that's why I'm here." Arnold didn't speak because he remembered that Harvey hadn't answered his question from earlier. They just got caught up in a different conversation. "When I was talking to Ernie, he mentioned that you told him and the other boarders about this contest that you entered." Pulling back, the blond child remembered telling the others after he turned in the essay over the last couple of weeks. Arnold rubbed his eyes to stop the tears that he knew were coming. "Yeah. What about it?" He tried to seem happy, but the sadness of the slim chance of him winning returned.
But Harvey kneeled in front of him, an arm resting on one of his knees. "You see, Arnold, I had heard about this contest from other kids as well. So I was well aware of what he was talking about by then." This was not helping the boy at all. He knew that the man had the best intentions, but to hear that other kids probably wanted to win just as badly as he did….
"Although I don't believe that they told the students that they would be getting their answer through the mail system." Harvey smiled as Arnold's thoughts were racing. What? Arnold could not rub them anymore. If Harvey went the entire way over here just to tell him this…"What are you saying Harvey?"
Patting the boy's shoulder, he stood up knowing that Arnold was standing there in shock. He could hear as the zipper of Harvey's jacket was unzipped and his hand reached inside the coat pocket. Arnold could not breathe as his rough hand pulled out what looked to be a clipboard with a pen attached and a thick manila folder. Handing it down to him, he asked, "Are you Arnold Shortman?" Tears were freefalling. There was nothing he could do either except nod. Was this really happening? Harvey was grinning. If there was anyone who deserved this, it was Arnold. "Sign here please." Arnold did not hesitate to grab that pen and sign his name. It was scribbled, but as long as he signed it, it didn't matter. What did matter was what that folder held. The man pulled back the clipboard and used the other hand and laid it in Arnold's hands.
He was holding it. The folder was so thick too. There was no way that he couldn't not have won. He trembled as his fingers from earlier turned pink once again from all of the blood rushing into them. And lifting that little tab, he found the first of what looked to be about thirty papers! But it only took the first sentence on that first page to make all of the difference in his world.
"Congratulations! Arnold Shortman, you have won the Discoveries of the World Contest!"
And that was all Arnold needed to read. There was nothing more and nothing less. He won. He won the contest! The hurt, the worry, and defeat that he had felt had disappeared. All he could see in his mind were the faces of his mom and dad from the only photo he had of them. Suddenly his hands gripped the papers tighter, almost to the point that it could cause a few paper cuts if he accidentally ripped the folder.
And he had that strong feeling to hug someone. It always happened when he felt this excited over something that meant so much to him. Arnold was actually going to find his parents! He knew that things might get difficult, but any amount of time that he had in San Lorenzo that could be used in searching for his parents was worth it. He, he had to try.
And he couldn't help it. With the papers still in his hands, really in his hands as it was still hard to believe, he found himself holding Harvey in a death grip hug. This was one of his favorite moments. Even though it was not how he expected it to happen, especially who it was with, he was happier than he'd ever been in his whole life.
Who cared that it was freezing? Who cared that it was cloudy? He was hugging the childhood friend of his father and lifelong friend of his as well. But there was something different about this hug. It was missing something. Arnold couldn't figure out what it was though, but he was just too overwhelmed in a very good way. He couldn't stop smiling as the tears fell. Holding onto Harvey with his green eyes shut, he hiccupped, "Thank you so much Harvey! You, you have no idea how much this, this means to me!" His world went dark as Arnold felt Harvey hug him back. And in that reassuring voice, the man responded. "No one deserves this more than you Arnold. No one."
And for the first time in weeks, he believed what he heard. He wasn't selfish. He accepted the compliments that Sid, Gerald, Stinky, Harold, Rhonda, Nadine, Eugene, Lila, Phoebe, Helga, Mr. Huynh, Grandpa, Grandma, and now Harvey. He accepted their gratitude toward him. And that was the best support system that he could ever imagine. He didn't let go until long after a few minutes. There was only one thing on his mind as the reality set it.
"This is it. I am going to San Lorenzo."