Chapter 20

Reading the Letter

"Man, I'm sorry about what I said yesterday," Gerald said, as he and Arnold walked into the room.

"Yeah. That's okay," Arnold said absentmindedly, still thinking of the letter.

"What's this?" Gerald said, holding up the letter. "From Anonymous? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. It just came in the mail."

"Well? Aren't you gonna open it?"

"I guess."

"No!" Helga gasped from her hiding place.

"Did you hear something, Gerald?"

"No. Come on man, open it! Let's see what's in it! Maybe it's full of cash or something."

"Yeah. Maybe," Arnold said, as he tore open the flap of the envelope and pulled out the letter. "'Dearest Arnold-'"

"'Dearest Arnold'?! What kind of nutcase would write something like that?"

"Idiot," Helga mumbled.

"'You have no idea how long I've waited to write these blessed words. I have waited for six, long, painstaking years, but at last, Arnold, at last! I am ready to give unto you the most hallowed of secrets.'"

"Wow, Arnold! That must mean that you've been chosen by some sacred weirdo to be the holder of some age old riddle! Like, if the chicken or the egg came first or something!"

"I doubt it. 'Arnold, my darling, my sweet flaxen haired angel, I love you.'?"

"Wow! A sacred weirdo loves you!"

"I love you?! Gerald, this isn't a…whatever you thought it was. This is a love letter!"

"Really?" Gerald asked, before falling to the floor laughing.

"Oh, look, it says it's from Phoebe."

"Huh?!" Gerald said, standing up.

"Just kidding. You know what? I think it's from Lila."

"Arnold! When are you ever gonna get it?! She doesn't like you like you! She just likes you."

"Sure, but she might have just been saying that to cover up her real feelings."

"Right. Keep dreaming, Arnold. And keep reading; I want to see who it's from!"

"Alright. 'Yes, Arnold, yes! I love you! I've loved you ever since I first laid eyes on your wonderful, sweet football head!'"

"Boy, this girl's got it bad."

"Stop interrupting!"

"Oh, yeah, you just can't wait to see what other wonderful things your secret admirer says about you," he teased.

"Gerald!"

"Okay, okay. Keep going."

"'But until now I've been too scared to come out with it, too shy to tell you that I absolutely adore you!' Seriously, Gerald, I think it might be Lila. She seems to be the type that would have a secret crush."

"No, she doesn't! She's the one who came out with loving you, dumping you, loving your cousin, and a whole bunch of other stuff. She's more of the open book type."

"She is not! Well…oh, well. We'll find out. 'I know you don't know who I am (at least, I hope so), but here's one major clue…' I'm telling you, Gerald! It's Lila!"

"Why don't you read the clue before you jump to any false conclusions?"

"Fine. 'I'm not Lila.' Oh. Well…okay, you were right."

"Ha. Told you."

"Don't rub it in."

"Ha-ha, football head!" Helga whispered. "Little Miss Perfect isn't your secret admirer. Ha. I am. But you can't find that out!"

"'She doesn't like you like you! Get it through your thick skull! I'm the only one for you!'"

"Yeah, Arnold! Get it through your thick skull! Lila doesn't like you like you!"

"I think she meant that I should get that she was the only one for me."

"Yeah, well maybe I mean both, ya morons!"

"Did you here something?"

"Man, Arnold! Stop concentrating on every stupid noise that you hear, and get back to reading the letter!"

"Right. 'Love, love, love times one million, (Ha! You didn't think I'd actually tell you, did you?)' Well, that's disappointing."

"What a rip off! All that, and we still don't know who it is!"

"It's not over yet. There's still a bunch of 'P.S.'s' and stuff."

"Then read them!"

"Oh, no. He's almost to the final sentence. And when he reads that final sentence…I'm not even gonna go that far. What am I doing, just sitting here? I've got to do something!" Helga whispered.

"'P.S. You're so dense! I can't believe you haven't figured out who I am yet! Hurry up!'"

"That's nice. She goes from calling you 'sweet angel' to 'dense'."

"Yeah. It's like she loves me and hates me at the same time."

"You got it, bucko," Helga whispered, surprised that Arnold had figured out at least that much. "Now what should I do? How can I get out of this mess?"

"'P.P.S. The little pink book was mine, the locket was mine, the parrot was mine, all the poems Mr. Simmons ever read were about you, by me, and the heart on the wall that said 'Arnold loves Lila' was written by me.'"

"The who, what, and which?"

"Well, you know about that little book we found that was filled with poems about me."

"Oh, yeah!" Gerald exclaimed. "Those were the corniest poems I ever read!"

"Sure, if you don't appreciate poetry. It's actually unusually good. Most people can't write good poetry."

"He likes my poems?!" Helga thought, almost dying from excitement.

"Whatever you say, man. And what's with 'the locket'?"

"Oh, that. One day I just found a locket with my picture in it, but I couldn't get the clasp to open. Then one day it was just gone again."

"Okay… You know what, Arnold? It sounds like this person's stalking you. I mean, it just disappeared? What, was she just hiding in your house, waiting until you weren't looking so she could take it? Do you think she's hiding somewhere right now, watching you read her letter, to see what your reaction is?"

"I think you're getting too into this, Gerald."

"Hey, it could happen! And what did she say about 'a parrot'? Good grief, what on earth does a parrot have to do with anything?"

"I found this parrot one day, and it started reciting poetry, like in that little book. Then it got eaten by a giant lizard."

"Pleasant. But what about the heart with you and Lila?"

"That's what I'm wondering! I bet she really is Lila, and she's just now getting the courage to tell me! See, watch. 'P.P.P.S. No! I'm not Lila! I just changed the name so you (and other people) wouldn't find out.'"

"So ends all hope of you ever being with Lila, right?"

"No. It just ends all hope of this secret admirer being Lila."

"Oh, sure."

"Then it just says P.S. I love you and a bunch of X's and O's and stuff like that."

"And now you're gonna get the other sheet of paper and read my last, fatal remark, aren't you? Well, not if I have anything to say about it!" Helga thought, as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Then she dialed Arnold's number. She could hear the phone ring from somewhere down the hall and then someone pick up the other end of the line.

"Hello, you have reached the Sunset Arms boardinghouse. Would you like to rent a room?"

"Uh, no," Helga whispered, as quietly as she could. "Can I speak to Arnold?"

"Could you speak up a bit? I can't quite hear you."

"Arnold. I want to talk to Arnold!" she said, a bit louder.

"Arnold? Well, okay, he's in his room. I'll get him. HEY, ARNOLD! PHONE!"

"Tell them I'm coming!" he called, as he dropped the letter on the floor and walked out of the door with Gerald.