Chapter Ten
(In which there are some serious discussions…)
"Okay, could you explain that again?"
Helga sighs and pushes back in her chair, fingers drumming angrily against the tabletop.
"You deaf, Geraldo?" She asks, falling back onto old habits. The name doesn't really hold the venom that it used to though. "Or just dumb? We just went over it all."
Gerald glares at her. Phoebe wraps small fingers around his clenched fist and gives him a gentle smile. She knows that her husband is feeling ambushed by all this information. She knows, because she also sort of feels like she's drowning in the weight of all she's heard.
"Could you just summarize everything one more time? It's an awful lot to take in at once, Helga." Phoebe implores her best friend.
"Okay, but this is the last time." Helga glances at Arnold who is awkwardly fumbling with the cloth covering La Corazon. Getting him to tell the story for the first time was already like pulling teeth - she isn't looking forward to having to harass a repeat performance out of him.
"So three years ago, Arnold didn't really die. He just… got on a plane to San Lorenzo. The plane crashed, but he survived. Right, Arnold?"
He nods, still fiddling with that stupid bundle. Helga has half a mind to yank it away from him and force him to talk, but she can only imagine how well that would go over with him.
"He spent the next few years hanging out over there, unloading boxes off ships and going by the name of Phil." More nodding. He refuses to meet her gaze. "So one day some dude named Wash walks into a bar and -"
"Ward." Arnold interrupts. "Ward walked into the bar. Wash is the guy with the healing book."
"I thought it was the other way around?" Helga says, brows furrowing. "So Ward gives you the map - no, I mean - he gives you the - ...."
"Stop." Arnold says suddenly as he reaches out a hand and lays it on her shoulder. "I'll do it." He meets her gaze and smiles softly at her. "It's kind of complicated, I guess."
"Uh, maybe." Helga agrees, looking away.
"One day a man entered the bar that I frequented. He was being harassed by some of the other guys and I was sick of it so I told them off and helped him outside. We ended up heading down towards the river where we talked for a bit and then something must have set him off and he seemed to recognize me - or at least, he knew my real name."
"How?" Gerald asks, leaning forward. "You'd been going by Phil that whole time, right?"
"R-Right." Arnold seems nervous under Gerald's stare. "I never said anything about who I really was. And I don't know how he knew. He just… seemed to know me somehow."
"How odd." Phoebe whispers, touching a hand to her mouth thoughtfully. "You said he first called you by your father's name, yes? Maybe he knew you through your father?"
"Maybe. I don't know."
Helga gestures for him to continue.
"Let's hear the rest."
"Oh, well. After he called my name he sort of wigged out and ran off. I tried to follow him, but it didn't really work out. After that I ended up back in the lake and kind of just…" He goes quiet. He's still not really sure why he had jumped into the water that night. To find himself? To lose himself? "Anyway, I ended up being pulled out of the water by…someone."
"Ward?" Phoebe wonders, but Arnold shakes his head.
"I don't think so. I mean, I don't really remember much about it so I suppose it could have been Ward, but I don't really think it was. Maybe one of the guys from the bar? But…" He rubs a hand nervously at the back of his neck. "They probably would have said something to me. This guy, he was totally silent save for his breathing."
"So it could have been anyone, from the sound of it." Helga says impatiently. "Anyway, talk about what happened next."
"Right. So I made it back to my hut and sort of collapsed into bed when I get woken in the middle of the night to find Ward standing over me. Scared the shit out of me. He ended up handing me a newspaper clipping and…" Arnold pauses a moment before lifting his small bundle up onto the table and finally lets go of its sides. "This."
"You said it was La Corazon? Like from that story in your dad's journal?" Gerald asks, remembering the day years ago that Arnold had shown him the old book, filled with stories of adventures in jungles and saving an ancient race of people. "The Green Eye's sacred relic thing, right?"
"Yes." Arnold replies, his voice heavy with emotion. "At least, I think it is. I haven't looked at it."
The group is silent as they process this information. Helga bursts first.
"You haven't even looked at it? Are you stupid?! You could be carrying around a stupid beach ball for all you know!" She screams, throwing her hands up in the air. "You could be risking your life for nothing!"
"Or what if it's something that is meant to spread a disease?! What if this Ward guy gave it to you in the hopes that you'd bring it here and start an epidemic?" Phoebe pushes back, horrified. Gerald throws a protective arm out in front of her.
"What the hell, man?" He shouts. "You're putting my family in danger!"
Arnold calmly reaches out his arms to accept his bundle once more.
"I can't look." He says simply. "It's too sacred. But I really do believe it is La Corazon."
"Arnold, you can't know unless you look." Helga says as gently as she can through gritted teeth.
"Here." He says, reaching out for her hand. She raises an eyebrow at him, but he only widens his palm for her hand. She bites at her lip and slips her hand into his. Gerald and Phoebe watch in silence from across the room - she's got her head leaning against his side as he slowly rubs at her arms. Ever so gently, Arnold pulls Helga's hand towards the cloth bundle. He carefully presses her palm against the side of it and holds it there with his fingers. She let's out a small gasp, but doesn't pull away.
"You feel?" He asks.
Helga nods and carefully runs her hand along the bundle's side.
"It's… so warm." She whispers in awe. But it's not just the warmth that gets to her. Touching the bundle makes her feel… safe. It's like touching the smell of warm blacktop or wrapping her fingers around the feeling that she used to get whenever Arnold smiled at her. "Home." She breathes.
"Yeah." Arnold agrees, watching as her eyes mist over. "Home."
She thinks about asking him what it feels like when he touches it, but before she can even think about forming the words they are interrupted.
"Guys?" Phoebe asks, her voice sounding distant and far away.
Helga snaps back to herself and reluctantly tugs her hand away.
"Sorry." She apologizes. "I know it sounds kind of crazy, but…" Helga doesn't look at Arnold. "I think he's right. I really think that Ward was telling the truth and that is La Corazon."
Gerald sighs heavily and guides Phoebe back to the table. They both sit back down, but don't really seem to relax.
"Okay, so. Let's say that Ward did give you La Corazon - now what? I mean, what's the point?"
"I…" Arnold bites at his lip. "I'm not sure." He sets La Corazon back down in his lap. "But I kind of think it's the key."
"The key?" Phoebe asks.
"To my parents."
"Arnold, man." Gerald says solemnly. "I thought you let that go years ago."
"You act like it's the easiest thing to do." Arnold snaps. "That leaving behind the people who had loved you most is just something that happens one day. Well, I'm sorry, but as long as there's still a sliver of hope I'm never giving up on them. They were going to come back. They loved me." His voice cracks.
"I just… It's been 25 years, Arnold. I'm not saying to give up hope - I just… It isn't healthy, man."
Gerald watches as Arnold clenches and unclenches his fists. It's so weird seeing him again after all this time. Three years ago, Gerald had put Arnold to rest in his mind. He'd grieved, of course, but… he'd moved forward. It was sad and sometimes the pain of losing someone who used to be so dear was almost impossible to bear, but he'd managed it. And not once did he think about following his old best friend into San Lorenzo on the faint hope that he might still be alive. The truth was, if he had thought that way - it would have hurt a thousand times worse.
"Anyway," Helga says, noticing how the air around the two men had shifted to something uncomfortable. "Let's hear the rest of the story."
"When he handed me La Corazon, Ward also gave me this newspaper clipping." Arnold tells them, unfolding a slip of paper from his pockets.
"Oh what's this?" Phoebe says as she grabs hold of a small flier that Arnold had also pulled out. "Oh! Rhonda's party! How'd you get an invitation?" She asks, looking at Arnold.
He tugs the flier back.
"Helga gave it to me. I don't really think I'm going to make it though. Probably for the best." He says with a half hearted laugh.
"Oh that's too bad. I managed to convince Gerald to take off work for it. It's going to be a pretty big event, from what I've heard."
"Phoebe!" Helga chides. "Stop getting off track."
"Sorry!"
"So the newspaper clipping?" Gerald leads.
"Yeah. There's a man who lives on the outskirts of Hillwood. He's throwing some big party or something tomorrow night. The important thing is that he happens to be a collector of Green Eyes artifacts. He's from somewhere down south, but he keeps his collection up here - normally under heavy security, but this party tomorrow is open to the city's elite. Security around the artifacts is sure to still be tight, but it'll be as loose as it'll ever get."
"You're planning to steal from this man?" Phoebe gasps.
"I think I have to. Look at what Ward circled." Arnold says pushing the article towards her. In the middle of a list of the Green Eyes' pieces that the man in the article owned was a big red circle around one item.
"A book of healing?" Phoebe wonders aloud, skimming over the contents of the article. "You think you need to steal it?"
"I'd rather just ask, but… I can't really imagine him just giving it to me. Also, under the circumstances, I think it's better that I don't get a lot of people involved." Arnold says quietly, gazing at the rest of them, suddenly feeling very responsible. "I shouldn't even be here. What if they come after you guys?"
Gerald and Phoebe stiffen a little, but Helga lays a hesitant hand on his arm.
"Look, no one knows we're here. It'll be fine. Besides, I've been kidnapped, remember?"
"Stop!" Phoebe cuts in. "We need to stop getting ahead of ourselves here. So we're up to Ward leaving La Corazon and that newspaper clipping with you."
"It's pretty simple from there. I've spent the past two weeks making my way back to Hillwood so that I could grab my dad's journal and figure out a way to get a hold of that healing book. I accidentally ended up on Helga's stoop this morning and from there we left Hillwood and came here."
"And you were being attacked?"
"Yeah."
Gerald looks at them sternly.
"And stole a car?"
Helga and Arnold exchange an awkward glance.
"We had to." Helga mutters sheepishly. "We needed a way out of Hillwood." She looks up. "Can you explain the kidnapping thing again? I think I've got it pieced together, but I just want to make sure we're caught up."
"I don't know the whole story, but… from the sound of it that lady who's car you stole came to just as the police were about to knock down the door. She must have told them about you showing up in her house with a strange man and the gunshots. When they checked your house and you weren't there along with a few signs of struggle they sent out an alert and contacted your family. And I'm sure once Rhonda gets wind of the news it'll be all over the place." Phoebe explains.
"I guess Mrs. Grant assumed that Arnold was responsible for the gunshots and everything else. They must think that he's kidnapped me and not that I went with him of my own accord." Helga says, rubbing at her temples. It's been one crazy day.
"That explains the policemen back at the diner then." Arnold adds. "They must have noticed the car was missing already. We're lucky Wolfgang showed up when he did."
"Oh yeah, so lucky." Helga says sardonically as she rolls her eyebrows.
Arnold's about to say something in response to her sarcasm, but is interrupted by a loud scraping sound. They all watch as Gerald stands up out of his chair and silently moves towards the refrigerator.
"What are you up to, hun?" Phoebe asks softly. He smiles warmly at her as he pulls out what looks to be frozen steaks and a bottle of vodka.
"Sorry that you can't have any, Phoebe, but I think the rest of us could really use a drink right about now." He lays the steaks down on the counter and turns back to grab a few more supplies out of his drawers. "How do you feel about steaks on the patio for dinner tonight?" He asks the group.
They all exchange somewhat surprised glances at the sudden shift in topic and mood, but find that it's something of a welcome relief.
"That sounds wonderful, Gerald." Phoebe beams at her husband.
Three hours later, Helga is happily buzzed and incredibly full. After dinner had ended, Phoebe had brought out a whole tin of brownies that she had been snacking on in secret. Gerald had looked affronted for a moment, but once his wife had offered them to him, he'd laughed it all off. Now they were sitting on the back patio as the night wound down, bringing up old adventures and minor tragedies from when they were younger. Even Arnold had somehow managed to enjoy himself and, Helga had noted, actually released his death grip on La Corazon somewhere in the middle of it all.
"And then we finally make it back to school after the worst day of our lives only to find that the rest of the class had spent a whole day playing carnival games! Man, we learned our lesson that day." Gerald says, throwing up his arms in mock exasperation.
"Oh, I remember that day!" Phoebe chimes in, "It was such a neat surprise! Helga and I spent the day throwing balls at the dunking booth - Wartz was on the hot seat, I do believe."
"Jerks." Arnold says.
"Hey!" Helga yells, nudging him on the shoulder. "It isn't our fault that you two stooges went and mucked up what should have been a really cool day."
"Yeah, yeah." He says, pushing her back. It's nice, being like this. He can almost pretend that everything is okay. If it weren't for the warm, silent humming of La Corazon to his right, he could believe that this was truly his life now. Hanging out with his old best friend, drinking and reminiscing about adventures he used to have. Being normal.
Phoebe yawns loudly, startling them.
"Oh man, I think it's getting past my bedtime." She murmurs, eyes already half-closed.
"Aw, we tuckered you out, eh Phoebe?" Helga says as she reaches out to lay a hand on Phoebe's shoulder.
"Yeah, you guys are the worst." Phoebe teases. "Anyway, I think I'm gonna head in for tonight. Helga you never did get to take that shower. If you want you can do that now while I show Arnold to his room." She offers.
Helga frowns.
"Oh, I see how it is. Let the Footballhead have the fancy bedroom and leave your poor, suffering best friend to the couch, right?"
"Wrong." Phoebe replies, grinning. "You and me are bunking up tonight. My poor, suffering husband can take the couch. Sound good, Gerald?" She teases. He lets out a long, suffering sigh in response.
"You are a cruel mistress, Mrs. Johanssen."
"All right, Helga and Arnold follow me please!" Phoebe says as she gingerly lifts herself off the her chair.
"I'll be in later, Phoebe." Gerald calls after them as they enter the house one-by-one. "I want to clean up and sit for a bit."
Phoebe waves in response and then leads her guests up the stairs to the second floor of the house. She points Helga towards the bathroom and tosses her a some clothing from the duffel bag they had emptied earlier.
"Take as much time as you'd like, Helga."
Helga grasps hold of Phoebe's hands for a small moment before she closes the door.
"Thanks," She says softly, squeezing her best friend's fingers. "Phoebe."
"Go on." Phoebe says shooing Helga back. "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll probably be passed out by the time you get out, so don't worry about saying goodnight."
Helga smiles and then shuts herself in.
Phoebe turns to Arnold, who had hung back, not quite sure what to say or do now that Helga wasn't around. It wasn't that he didn't like Phoebe, it's just that he didn't really have much to say to her after all this time. She was a good friend back when they were kids, but they just weren't that close. If anything, Phoebe was Helga and Gerald's friend - he was practically a stranger to her and vice versa.
"Well, come on." She says waving him down the hall.
He pads after her as she leads him into a rather plain room, shifting La Corazon to his front as he follows. He looks around, but there isn't a lot of decoration as opposed to the rest of the house.
"We haven't really been expecting guests yet so we haven't really done much with it." Phoebe says, as she awkwardly rubs her forearm.
"It's nice." Arnold responds, trying to force himself to keep it up, "The whole house is nice. And the baby - " He gestures to her stomach. "That's… congratulations Phoebe."
"Thank you, Arnold." Her eyes are bright in the moonlight, but he realizes that she isn't really looking at him. It's almost as if she's looking past him. He watches as she bites at her lips and seems to wrestle with herself for a moment. "Arnold?" She asks tentatively.
"Mmm, yeah?" He says slowly.
She moves across the room towards the window and begins fumbling with the blinds.
"I think you should leave tonight."
He steps back, not really sure if he heard her right.
"Phoebe?"
She turns.
"I think that you really ought to leave tonight, Arnold." She says again. "I don't mean to offend you, but this isn't about you really. It's about Helga."
"What about her?" He asks, fingers splayed against the warm fabric of La Corazon.
"She's in love with you. She'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you let her. She'd die for you." Phoebe goes quiet then. "And I hate that."
It doesn't hit him as hard as he'd have expected - knowing that Helga is still in love with him. It had become something he'd always sort of known all throughout his life - the sun would rise and Helga would love him. It was still sort of weird hearing the words out loud, but it wasn't frightening or shocking. Just… odd.
"I don't…." He trails off.
"I know." Phoebe says with a small nod, "You didn't ask for it. And you still aren't asking for her help, but still she's tagging along. But you have to put your foot down Arnold. You can't let her die for your dream." Phoebe implores him. "If you really feel that you need to go off and find your parents then so be it, but leave her here!"
"I didn't want her to follow me!" He says tersely. "I tried leaving her already, but she didn't let me."
"Of course she won't let you go." Phoebe says with a sigh. "Not with you alive, but still in danger. She'd fight tooth and nail to save you - to help you. But it's no good, Arnold. She'd finally started coming around, y'know? I could get her to smile sometimes. I caught her jotting down a few stray lines on a napkin one afternoon. She would have healed." She leans back against the wall. "You resurfacing has reopened the wound. If you go now she might still be okay, but if she gets reattached and then loses you again…." Phoebe trails off.
"I didn't ask for…."
She lays a small hand on his arm and smiles sadly up at him.
"I know."
She walks past him then to the door. As she goes to leave she turns her head just a tiny bit back in his direction.
"The keys to the minivan are on the hook by the garage door. The ones with the Ronnie Matthews keychain."
"I thought you ended up hating Ronnie Matthews?" He jokes half-heartedly, feeling the weight of all she has said.
"He's got a mustache scribbled on now."
"Ah."
"Goodnight, Arnold." Phoebe says softly as she closes the door.
"Goodnight." Arnold responds to no one at all.
Helga steps out of the bathroom and into the hall. She lets out a soft sigh as she runs fingers through her wet, blonde hair. She is about to head towards the master bedroom, when she realizes that she could really use a glass of milk. So instead of joining Phoebe, she turns and makes her way downstairs into the kitchen. She pours herself a glass of milk when the light from outside catches her eye.
She takes a small sip out of her glass as she pads towards the back door and slowly slides open the glass.
"You still out here?" She calls out to Gerald who is standing at the edge of the patio, with his back to her.
He turns to face her and she notices a large cigar between his fingers.
"A cigar?" She asks curiously. "I thought Phoebe had gotten you to kick that habit."
"She did." He says tiredly, rifling through his pockets. "They're supposed to be for when one of the guys from the office comes over. I haven't touched 'em before now. But… today's been kind of crazy." He pulls out another from his pockets and offers it to her. "You want one?"
Helga pauses for a moment, before reaching out to accept his offering. He flicks his lighter and helps light it for her.
"Thanks." She says.
They smoke in silence for a few minutes, neither quite sure what else is left to say to one another. Helga looks at him, studying his solid frame. She's never quite stopped being a little resentful of him. He'd always managed to get in her way somehow. She doesn't exactly blame him for that, but it still makes it hard to know what to say to him.
"What the hell are you doing, Helga?" He asks then, startling her out of her reverie.
"What are you talking about?" She scowls.
He slips his hands into his pockets and leans back against the side of his house.
"I mean, what are you thinking - following Arnold to the ends of the universe on some crazy suicide mission? It's stupid and you're gonna go and get yourself killed for it. You know that, right?"
"What the hell do you know?" She says angrily, stepping away from him.
"I know that you've been absolutely crazy about that guy for a stupid amount of time when he's barely even given you a second glance. I know that you're still crazy about him and that you don't even see how incredibly stupid the two of you are acting right now."
"You don't know anything about me." Helga snarls, dropping her cigar to the ground and stomping on it for good measure. "So shut the hell up, Geraldo." With that she turns to march back into the house.
"I know that you ran away to find him."
She freezes.
"Did not."
"In ninth grade. You hopped the bus one day and went to find him. I saw you get on."
He takes a step towards her and reaches out to gently touch her shoulder.
"You have no idea where I was going."
"I know." He says gently. "After Wolfgang and… Brainy. You snapped. Cut off all your hair and left. I know where you went and I know why."
"Shut up." She refuses to face him as her eyes gloss over with tears. "You don't know."
"You don't have to follow him, Helga. You don't owe him anything."
Again.
"I never said I did." She clenches her fists at her sides and chokes back a sob.
"Still." Gerald pauses. "You should stay here. Move on."
"How can you say that?" Helga seethes, brushing a hand against her eyes. "He's your best friend, you asshole. And he's alive. How can you act like that doesn't mean anything?"
He slowly turns her so that she's facing him, but she still refuses to look at him.
"Yeah. He was my best friend. But that was ten years ago. I'm thrilled that he's alive, but…" He sighs. "I've got a life of my own and a family that I'm slowly building. I can't drop everything to follow him into danger this time around. And neither should you. You're twenty-five years old, Helga. You don't have to build your life around him anymore. You never did."
She responds by tugging out of his grip and turning for the door. He grabs her by her wrist to hold her there.
"Helga." He says. "Stop."
"I'm not doing this. I'm not having this conversation with you. Like you said, I'm a grown woman and I will decide what's best for me. I don't need you and Phoebe prodding at me. Maybe I'm just following him because I want the adventure - did you ever think about that? M-maybe this has nothing to do with umbrellas or love or anything." She snaps, pulling away. "Whatever. And I'm taking the couch tonight. I don't really feel like sharing a bed with anyone tonight." She stops. "Besides, Phoebe will probably feel more comfortable with you there anyway."
He sighs and lets her go. She slides open the glass door and steps inside. He pauses for a moment to put out his cigar.
"You coming?" She demands. He nods and pushes past her.
"You're so demanding." He taunts, but pauses for a moment to put his hand on her shoulder. "Goodnight, Helga."
She smiles at him as he retreats towards the stairway. Helga goes to close the door when she's suddenly overcome with an odd sensation. It's almost like she's being watched.
With her heart in her throat, she peers out into the murky darkness. In the distance she can see a line of trees, but it's too dark to really make out any distinguishing figures. Shivering, she quickly snaps the door shut, locks it and then slides the curtains closed across it.
She lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding as she makes her way to the couch where a blanket and pillow are already laid out across it. She snuggles into the cushions and closes her eyes.
It's been one hell of a day after all.
"Goodnight." She whispers to the air.
"H-hold on baby, you're cracking up." Wolfgang curses as he goes to fiddle with the dials on his beat up CB radio. He angrily removes his hand from the hem of his pants and focuses it on trying to re-establish his connection to the woman he'd just been talking to. "Come on, you piece of shit. Not tonight." He swears, pounding a fist against it.
The radio suddenly sparks to life, but instead of the sultry voice of his would-be lady friend, he is instead assaulted with some sort of… report.
He swears again and goes to change it when suddenly the message seems to reach his ears.
"Missing… blonde female… Helga G. … please call 911 upon news of… big reward… Big Bob Pataki…."
Wolfgang leans back in his seat, dumbstruck.
"Well, I'll be." He says with a laugh. "Big reward, eh?"
He pulls a cellphone out of his pocket and pauses to think for a moment. Then, with a quick flip of his hand he opens it up and begins dialing.
"Sorry, Blondie." He whispers to himself as he holds the receiver up to his ear. "But opportunities like this don't come around all that often."
When the line connects to the Hillwood Police Station, Wolfgang is ready to give away all the details of his adventure with Helga G. Pataki and Arnold Shortman that afternoon.
Arnold moves as quietly as he can through the still dark house.
He had been sort of hoping that he'd be able to get one full night's sleep here, before having to leave, but Phoebe's words are still ringing in his ears. He knows it's better this way. Leaving Helga here and going off on his own is probably the best thing that he can possibly do for her. It isn't fair to drag her into something that has absolutely nothing to do with her.
He gingerly steps around the couch, hoping not to wake Gerald in his departure. Arnold squints in the darkness for the Ronnie Matthews keychain Phoebe had mentioned. He spots it and grabs the keys off the wall.
As quietly as possible he turns the doorknob that leads into the garage, it's not entirely easy to manage with La Corazon still tucked tightly under his arm, but he manages. He shuts it behind him just as smoothly.
He is about to head for the Minivan when suddenly the headlights on Gerald's Jaguar turn on and an engine revs up, causing him to jump back.
"Yo!" Helga yells out the driver's window of the Jag. "You weren't really gonna take that ugly hunk of junk were you? Not very classy, Footballhead. You're gonna get mistaken for a soccer mom in that boat of a car."
Arnold can feel his heart pounding in his throat as Helga lifts what looks like a man's wallet up to show him.
"Ready to do some shopping?" She taunts, raising an eyebrow in his direction.
He knows that Phoebe is right. He knows that taking Helga with him is a terrible plan.
Arnold beams at her.
notes: So I think it's pretty apparent at this point that there are a lot of different layers going on in this story. Hopefully you guys are now completely up to speed with where the characters are at and are ready for MORE ADVENTURE.
NEXT CHAPTER: Helga and Arnold plot out their next plan of action.