It's Only Life
Chapter Three: Nothing Lasts Forever
"It is so easy to see
Dysfunction between you and me.
We must free up these tired souls,
Before the sadness kills us both...
"I am so bored…"
"That's the general idea behind being grounded, Helga." Arnold told her.
"Crimeny, it's dull in this house. I need to get out; wanna hit up a movie?" she said, sitting up on her bed and switching the cordless phone to the other side of her face. "My treat…"
"We've been to the movies more times than I care to count, and even if we hadn't, you're grounded. That's what happens when you walk out on lunch with your parents." Arnold said.
Helga huffed in reply. "Whatever. I went to tell them what I had to tell them, and I did. There was no reason for me to stay." Helga finished. She was aware, before she even finished her statement, the absurdity that it held. She knew that she went there for more than just a screaming match with her father (which wasn't really a screaming match at all, as he barely raised his voice). She went because, whether or not she'd admit it, she wanted to see them. She wanted resolution, and closure, even though she wasn't sure what those words meant, or how they'd make her happy. And against her better judgment, a very small part of Helga sincerely missed her parents.
She wanted to tell them that she graduated 19th out of 413 students, and that she was going to NYU, and that even when she didn't want to talk to him, or when she talked too much, or when she was moody or sulky or irritable or insane, Arnold stuck by her. She wanted them to be proud of her and know that they missed out on raising a surprisingly well-adjusted child.
"You and I both know that's a lie. You wanted to see them." Arnold said, bluntly.
"Nnnnmmmmpphhh…"Helga muffled into the phone, already set on changing the subject. "If you're not going to help me off of Alcatraz, then what, pray tell is occupying your day?" she asked.
"Me and Gramps are heading up to the college to finalize a few things, you know, boring stuff. Sorry you can't join us."
"Me too. Olga's going off to brunch with you know whom. If you ask me, that's jus the stupidest name for a meal that I've ever heard. Breakfast and Lunch; there's no reason to go around trying to fuse them-"
"Olga's going out with your parents?" Arnold asked, suddenly attentive.
"Yeah, it's the only place I can go while still incarcerated." Helga said, picking lint off of her bedspread, absentmindedly.
"I'm assuming by your tone that you're not going."
"You guessed right, Footballhead."
"Don't get started, Pinky."
"Sorry." Helga replied, rolling her eyes.
"I really think you should go. And stay this time." he suggested. Even though the prior incident between Helga and her parent was almost two weeks ago, Helga was all too ready to complain about it, and Arnold was always there to listen. Sometimes, however, he grew frustrated with her. She was quick to remind him of her parents terrible misdeeds, and even though he saw no justification under the sun for their actions, he almost wished that she'd try forgiving them, instead of knocking the idea aside so often.
"Maybe next time." she said, quietly. He knew that she didn't mean it.
"If you don't know,
Then you can't care,
And you show up,
But you're not there.
But I'm waiting,
And you want to,
Still afraid that I will desert you..."
"Ah, sweet Freedom! I missed you!" Helga said, throwing her hands up, for the fourth time that day, and falling back on Arnold's couch. It had been exactly two weeks since her sentencing, and she was nearing the brink of insanity before her sister allowed her outside. Olga seemed to have forgotten about the incident, for the most part, seeing as something new was currently distracting her.
Helga was not happy to see that the current distraction happened to be their parents.
"Well, try not to get grounded for the remainder of the summer. There's only so much I can do alone around here." Arnold said, taking a seat next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"What about Gerald?"
"Visiting relatives. Speaking of which…"
Helga began vigorously shaking her head, inserting her fingers into her ears, and keeping her eyes shut. She couldn't escape to the park, at present, but she could act as though Arnold weren't speaking at all. Either way, she could avoid talking about her parents.
Arnold, on the other hand, was not so amused. He tried, while Helga was being held up in her room, to get her to open up a little to him, at least about her initial encounter with her parents. He fully understood her anger, but didn't want it to hinder her from real growth. Arnold recognized that, whether or not Helga realized it, her life was going to change dramatically over the next few months. She was starting college, and even though she was staying home, many of her friends would not be. With so many people seemingly leaving Helga's life, it wasn't wise for her to burn bridges. Arnold surmised that she may not realize what she had until it was far too late.
"Helga," he said, removing his arm from around her to pull her fingers out of her ears. Thankfully, she complied, but still held a feisty look in her eyes. Arnold knew better than to think she'd give in easily. "I'm being serious. Are you okay, now?"
"What do you mean 'okay, now'? When was I not okay?" she asked, leaning back to look at him.
"Helga, you ran out on your parents the first time that you had a chance to speak with them in eight years. That's a pretty big deal."
"Yeah, so what?" she asked, pulling her hands from Arnold's and crossing her arms. Arnold recognized her gesture. She wasn't just closing up physically, now. "Why would you think I wasn't fine?"
"I'm just letting you know, that you can talk to me if you want. You're not in this alone." Arnold stated, pleading with Helga to open up to him. He was waiting for her to feel like she could trust him and her tendency to lock herself away was wearing at him. He wanted to be there for her, but she hardly let him. "What's Olga up to today?" he asked, trying to change the subject…slightly.
"She's…umm…off shopping, or something. I don't know; she and Drew left before I did." Helga said, looking in the other direction and scratching her arm.
"Shopping? For what?" Arnold asked suspiciously.
"A gift." Helga said, scratching the back of her neck now. Arnold never realized how incriminating Helga's motions could be. She might as well have written it out for him, the way she was acting.
"For whom, Helga?" he asked seriously.
"It's apparently their anniversary, and Olga wanted to get them something. A stupid idea, really…" she said, sinking further into the couch. The way she said 'apparently', gave Arnold the assumption that she knew for sure that it was her parent's anniversary, and just decided to ignore it.
"That's nice of her. Why didn't you go?" he asked, trying to stay as calm as possible.
"I just…didn't want to go." Helga said, looking at the blank television screen. "Can we do something? I've been cooped up for two weeks with nothing to do."
"Okay." Arnold said, pulling himself up off of the couch and turning to offer his hand to Helga. She took it timidly, something that didn't escape Arnold's notice.
"Promise me you'll try again, okay? Before the summer is over." Arnold suggested.
"Next time." Helga offered, nodding as she followed Arnold out of the room.
"Everyday...
With every worthless word we get more far away,
The distance between us makes it so hard to stay.
But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe,
It hurts but it may be the only way..."
Arnold stared at the small slip of paper for a few moments, contemplating whether or not to go up to the door. There was a chance that he obtained the wrong address. He could have written the phone number incorrectly, or just gone to the wrong street.
He could have been completely and utterly outArnold of his mind.
Walking up the grey-concrete steps, Arnold shakily rang the doorbell and waited. Feeling like a five-year old in search of his best friend, only to come face to face with a larger-than-life adult, Arnold watched as the door swung open slowly.
Before him stood a man, almost equal in height to him, with dark brown hair and a weathered face. He wore a plain blue polo and khaki slacks, and smiled when he saw Arnold.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked, sincerely.
"Hi…Mr. Phelps?" Arnold asked, nervously.
"That's me." he answered, smiling wider. "You can call me Chuck."
"Hi. I'm looking for Dr…Mrs. Phelps. She was my guidance counselor." Arnold explained.
"Sure. Come on in." the man said, stepping aside to let Arnold. Taking note of the interior of the house, Arnold concluded that Dr. Phelps was not only a master guidance counselor (she did, after all get Helga to open up to her, something that continued to elude him), but a master interior designer. The theme of the house consisted of soft colors; even the flooring was made of muted wooden planks. The sitting room, which was nearly immaculate, was painted light blue with deep brown furniture and soft, comforting light filtering through a line of glass pane windows on the adjacent wall.
Arnold was so enjoying the atmosphere of the room, that he barely noticed the woman sitting on the couch, reading a book, whilst a very young child crawled around on the blue carpeting in front of her.
"Christine…" Chuck said, motioning to Arnold, who stood partially in the hallway. "You have a visitor."
Looking up from her book, Dr. Phelps smiled when she saw who came to visit her. Her pink sweater made her rosy cheeks stand out, and like her husband she was dressed casually, but still very classy. Resting her book on the seat next to her, she stood and advanced toward Arnold, her arm extended.
"Hi. I'm Christine Phelps. It's very nice to see you, Arnold." she said, sweetly.
"You know who I am?" Arnold asked, not sure whether or not Helga mentioned him tot heir guidance counselor.
"Of course. I'm familiar with most of the student body. But, I suppose that doesn't include you anymore. Congratulations on your graduation, by the way."
"Thanks." Arnold said, as Chuck offered his wife a knowing look and left the room. He didn't need to be told that his presence wasn't necessary.
Guiding Arnold over to the chair across from the couch where she sat, Dr. Phelps, resumed her seat on the couch, and sat her child upright. "This is Caroline." she said, looking down at the baby, who cooed when her mother lifted her. "Don't worry, she won't say anything to anyone."
"Pardon?" Arnold asked.
"Granted, I'm a high school guidance counselor, but I'm also a child psychologist. It'd be unethical for me to share any information that you divulge to me. Unless of course, you're planning on hurting yourself or anyone else. You're not planning anything like that, are you, Arnold?"
"No! of course not, I'm just-"
"That was a joke." she said, smiling at him. Dr. Phelps watched as he exhaled. Even though Arnold never visited her office, Christine Phelps was sure to keep tabs on him. He was never in any disciplinary trouble, volunteered after school, and was in the good graces of nearly every teacher that he had for four years. An exemplary student, if she ever saw one.
Which was one of the reasons why his presence at her home (obviously to talk about something serious, from the look on his face) was so surprising. In an instant, the realization hit her. The one true connection that she had with him…Helga.
"How are you, Arnold?" she asked, replacing the child on the ground, and watching her crawl to a spot on the floor where her toys sat.
"I'm fine. I'm…fine." he said, nodding.
"Really?"
"Well, I have a question for you. I mean, I know you're a guidance counselor, so you talk to a lot of people my age, right?" he asked, wringing his hands.
"That I do, Arnold."
"Well, if I…I have this friend…who won't talk to me." he said, bluntly. He was very aware that his words probably meant little to her.
"What do you mean, your friend won't talk to you? Are you two fighting?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"She-they, have a problem. It's kind of serious, and it's been bothering them for weeks now. And I've tried to let them know that they can talk to me about it, if they want. But she won't. She keeps shutting me out, and as hard as I try, I can't break through that wall. It's…" Arnold said, grasping for air and for words.
"It's exhausting, isn't it?" she asked, nodding to him. Her eyes, once bright and caring where now sad and sympathetic. Arnold understood why Helga found it easy to open up to this woman. She was truly a pro.
"Yeah. It's really exhausting." Arnold sighed.
Dr. Phelps took a deep breath and placed her hands in her own lap. "What you're feeling is, as cliché as this sounds, very normal. You want to be there for your 'friend', and you're trying. What most people in your circumstances fail to understand is that, you can only do so much. And that might make it seem like you're in a hopeless position, but you're not. If you really are doing everything you can to let your friend know that you're there for her, then you've done everything you can. The rest is up to her."
"That kind of sounds like an ultimatum." Arnold admitted.
"It's not, trust me, but a relationship has to have a measure of trust in it, otherwise it falls apart."
Arnold was silent for a few seconds. "I don't think she thinks she can trust me." he said.
"Built a wall around my heart,
I'll never let it fall apart,
But strangely, I wish secretly,
It would fall down while I'm asleep..."
"Why do you say that?" Dr. Phelps asked, tilting her head to one side."I've known He-my friend for a long time now. And, just recently, something's happened. Something really big, and kind of…hard for them to go through. I can't really explain it, but, my friend has been hurt. And now, they're making sure they don't get hurt again. I think that's why…my friend won't talk to me. She's scared I'll hurt her." Arnold said, sadly.
"Do you think your friend's fears are founded? That they have a reason to believe that you'll hurt them?" she asked.
"Well…yes and no. Yes, because, if you knew what happened to them, you'd understand why she doesn't trust anyone. She's had a hard life, up until a few years ago. But, I just want her to know that she can come to me, even if she doesn't want to…even if she never does, I want her to know that she can. And I'm scared that she'll stay like this forever….you know? Not trusting anyone." Arnold said, finally letting his shoulders relax. He was feeling much more comfortable with this stranger than he did with most adults.
"That's certainly no way to live." Dr. Phelps said. "You must care very deeply for your friend to go through such lengths to help them."
"I do." he said, still thinking on what Dr. Phelps said, and his reply. It had been a week and a half since Helga said that she would try to connect again with her parents, but instead she reduced herself to not so much as mentioning them. Arnold was sincerely worried at this point. "Do you think I should…you know…" His response was nothing but another elevation of the doctor's eyebrows. "Should I, maybe take a break? From my friend?"
"Arnold, that's entirely your decision. On one hand, this could open up your relationship. Your friend can no longer use you as a crutch, if you two aren't I constant contact. But, this could also sever the friendship entirely; something I don't think either or you want." Arnold shook his head to this. "Your support of Hel- your friend, is remarkable."
Arnold furrowed his brow and sat up. "How did you know I was talking about Helga?"
"How did you know I was your guidance counselor? You've never visited my office." she said, smiling at him.
"Helga told me." Arnold said, shaking his head. "So, you must know what's going on, then…"
"I know a little. I know that Helga's afraid and trying to protect herself. She knows that if she opens herself up again, she can get hurt again. She's pushing you away before you push her away."
"I'm not going to push her away! I want to help her!"
"I understand that. But tapping at her armor will do little. That's just how she is. I don't think you should do anything…permanent. But, maybe the two of you need a little time apart-nothing drastic. She's got so many people she's hiding from right now; her parents, you, and even Olga, I suspect. I think she's likely to shed that armor once she sees that she doesn't need it."
An hour or so later, Arnold left walking down the sidewalk with much more to think about than he was ready for. He squared his shoulders and headed home, committed to talking to Helga before the week was up. Hiss grandparents invited him on a small trip they were taking and he initially refused. He wanted them to know that he may have changed his mind and then let Helga know that he was leaving.
He hoped for the best, but still expected the worst.
"Though we have not hit the ground,
It doesn't mean we're not still falling.
Oh, I want so bad to pick you up,
But you're still too reluctant to accept my help.
What a shame, I hope you find somewhere to place the blame.
But until then, the fact remains..."
"Have you ever noticed that a "snow cone" isn't really made of snow?"
"What do you mean?" Arnold asked.
"It's called a "snow cone", right? Putting aside the fact that the main ingredient doesn't even come from the sky, you can tell it's not snow when you eat it. It's like an "ice cone" or a "cone of chunks of frozen water"." Helga said, tossing the paper container to her snow cone in the nearest trashcan.
"For someone who debates what a "snow cone" should be called, you sure did eat it fast." he noted.
"Anyway," Helga said, linking her arm with his. "What are you doing this weekend? It feels like this summer is dragging on and on for no reason."
Arnold cleared his throat, before he spoke. 'Now or never…' he told himself. "I'm actually going out of town. Just until Monday."
"You are?" Helga asked, shocked.
"Yeah…Arnie's graduating from military school, and grandpa and grandma wanted to go. Honestly, I think they're placing bets to see if he actually graduated." Arnold explained, trying to lighten the mood. The two took a seat on a green painted bench, in front of a few small shops. The sun was beating down on them mercilessly, but Arnold's sheen of sweat wasn't from the heat alone.
"So, you're going too?" Helga asked again.
"Yeah. I haven't seen Arnie in a while, and it might be…fun."
Helga let her arm fall limp, so that it was still holding on to Arnold's, only with much less vigor. "Oh." she said, biting her lip and looking around and across the street.
"Hey, maybe you can take this time to…get back in touch with your parents. I mean, I'll be getting in touch with Arnie, and you can-"
"Arnold, really? I don't want to talk about it now." Helga said, pulling her arm from his completely, and silencing him. Arnold jerked back, alarmed by her sudden change in mood.
"It seems to me, Helga, that you don't want to talk about them, ever." he said, growing more and more upset.
"So what if I don't?" she asked back.
"You're pushing everyone away. You're pushing away the people that care about you, and want to see you happy. That means me, Helga." Arnold stated.
"I'd be happy if you'd quit bringing them up all the time. I don't want to talk to them, and I'm fine with that? Why can't you be?"
"You're not fine with it! You wouldn't be so hostile and angry and guarded if you were. You're running, Helga. And you can't run forever. It's ruining the relationships that you have with other people too. You just don't see it."
"Like how?"
"When's the last time you talked to your sister?" Arnold asked, sitting closer to her, and bringing his voice down low.
"I talk to Olga all the time-" Helga began, before Arnold cut her off.
"I mean when's the last time you really talked her? Like you did before your parents showed up, and all this stuff started happening? When was it, Helga?" Arnold asked, his voice, once laced with frustration, now sympathetic and concerned. Helga said nothing, just stared at him, both angry and saddened by his words.
"I don't expect you to forgive them, okay? I don't. But I expect you to try. You said that you were going to try to put your anger behind you, that you had to do that, even if you never wanted to speak to them. And, you may think that by avoiding them means that you're not angry anymore, but you are. I can see it every time I look at you. You have to let that go." Arnold suggested.
"It's not that simple." Helga retorted, her jaw firm.
"Why not?!"
"You don't get it, Arnold! Everything I've ever had has been either taken from me, or has up and left me! What else am I supposed to expect?!" she asked, standing up and looking down at him, her brow a hard, angry line, but her eyes about to erupt.
"Expect that the people who truly care about you won't leave."
"But I don't know that! What if Olga and Drew decide to have kids? What if they move? They'll leave me too, and then what?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"And what about me? Why don't you trust me?" Arnold asked calmly, standing to meet her eyes.
"This isn't about you, Footballhead!"
"It's about you! I get that! But, I'm not any less concerned. Why won't you just talk to me? I'm willing to listen, but you won't even try!"
"Because I'm scared, okay?!" Helga shouted. Neither of them cared about onlookers, at this point. "If anyone would leave, it'd be you!
"You're so much bigger than this place, and you have a future ahead of you. And me? I'm a little girl who can't seem to let go of eight years of anger at her parents. This is just who I am, and I don't know how to stop it. I don't know if I can." she said, her chest heaving, as she spoke.
"Helga, I'm not going to leave you. You have to know that if this relationship is going to mean anything to you." Arnold said, sincerely, his heart breaking for the girl before him.
Helga tried to breathe deep, but found it difficult with the fast-forming lump in her throat and the weight on her chest. She wanted to reach forward, for Arnold to hold her and for her to disappear, even if just for a little while. "But, I can't." she whispered.
Arnold looked sullen for a few moments, and then nodded, looking at the ground. "I don't know what to say, then. I've tried everything."
Helga looked up, worried about the direction of the conversation. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that…" Arnold began, still staring at the pavement in front of him. "I mean that, I can't do anything else. The ball is in your court, Helga. I've done all that I can do."
"So, you're just going to leave?! Just like that?" Helga asked, accusingly. "You just said you wouldn't leave!"
"I'm not leaving, Helga!" Arnold said, raising his voice, slightly. "I've been trying. And now, I'm giving you a chance to do the same. Just try, Helga. I know you can." he said, before turning and walking away.
Helga stood watching his back fade, and eventually turn a corner. Time was not a factor in her mind, because before she knew it, it was dark, and she was running. Running faster than she did when she realized that her parents weren't coming back. Faster than when she decided to return to Vermont. Faster than when she did when her parents returned and began turning her world upside down.
Entering the house loudly, Helga slammed the door behind her ignoring her sister and brother in law, sitting on the couch, watching TV and ran into her room, slamming that door as well.
Her two guardians found her a few minutes later, curled up at the foot of her bed, after a noisy fit of rage sent the objects on her desk and dresser flying to the floor, and her curtains shut. They didn't need to see it to know that it happened.
They did, however miss the ring that was hiding in Helga's pocket, and went flying as soon as she entered the room, only to land on the windowsill, reflecting blue, red and green speckles of light on the wall.
"Everyday,
With every worthless word we get more far away,
The distance between us makes it so hard to stay.
But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe,
It hurts, but it may be the only way..."
Yeah. I cried too. The song is by Maroon 5, called "Nothing Lasts Forever." It'll make you cry some more.
Later days,
-Pointy_Objects
