Words I Couldn't Say

By Arnold's Love

Chapter Four: "Family Advice"

(Arnold's Point of View)

I looked down at the girl walking next to me. She was absolutely beautiful, especially with the moon and lamplight shining down on her. Her dark hair glistened like ebony opals. I loved her hair. There were so many different colors running through it—and not because she dyed her hair like all the other girls. It was completely her natural color—with red, gold, chocolate, and dark brown highlights shimmering softly. It was the prettiest hair I had ever seen. But she was frowning, watching her black shoes kicking through the yellow leaves.

We had driven in painful silence the whole way back from Belling. I had been trying to figure out what I could say to make her feel better, and Sandy had been lost in thought while simply listening to the music she had put in the CD player. I wasn't quite sure what one thing had specifically made her so mad, but I knew whatever it was…I had messed up big time.

We reached her door step and she turned to face me. "I'm sorry I got irritated with you, Arnold. I just felt…well, completely insulted that you'd suddenly ignore me because of some girl." She shrugged lightly. "I mean, we are just friends so I don't even know why it…bothers me that much." She twisted a strand of hair nervously around her finger and looked down. "And I know I tend to get mad really easily and I am totally working on it, but you were kind of rude," she added quietly. "And she wasn't even that pretty!"

She always did that. Whenever she apologized for her temper, in the end she still defended herself and blamed you. But, honestly, I didn't mind. She was right. I had completely ignored her in my effort to figure out why that girl looked so familiar. And even with her temper I liked Sandy so much…sometimes she was even really cute when she was angry with me. However, this time it felt like she was more upset than she had ever been with me.

"You're right, Sandy, and I'm sorry, okay?" I said, almost pleadingly, and gave her a friendly hug. She smelled delicious—like berries and vanilla.

She shrugged off my hug, and I had the feeling that she didn't really think I was sincere.

"Sandy, I'm serious." I frowned at her.

She looked down the street as a car pulled by the caldisac. "Okay." She gazed at me for a moment, her deep green eyes searching mine. Finally she turned away. "I guess I'll see you at school." She raced up the porch steps without a second glance.

Man, I thought, she must be really upset. Sometimes, she was so completely frustrating. She'd been upset with me before, but this was different. Usually she forgave me, or at least returned my hugs. I had apologized and I had no idea what else to do. I'd have to find her at school and apologize again. There would need to be some repairing before I took another chance at telling her my feelings.

I felt the chilly September wind and heaved a sigh as I buried my neck in my jacket. The nights were getting colder already and it looked like it might rain again. Not that that's really surprising. It was Washington. We lived relatively close and therefore, we never really drove to each other's house much. We had stopped by my house so Sandy could grab her purse and then walked over to her house. Sandy loved walking and always made a big deal about the simplistic beauty of the world around her. She especially loved walking at night, but was too afraid to go alone so she would always make me walk with her. During the summer she would get so excited about the frogs and crickets chirping in the deep darkness. In the winter she'd wonder at the frost twinkling on the snow beneath the streetlamps.

I remember one night during the winter of our junior year when we had been out walking later than usual. The snow was crunching under our feet and the sky looked amazing with the moon glowing brightly. Sandy skipped about running over any spot of "virgin snow", as she called it, so she could be the first to leave a footprint. On our way home frost had begun to shimmer down from the sky. She had stopped and sighed deeply and smiled up at it. That's how I liked to remember her. She had looked like a snow princess. Elegantly standing there with the sparkling frost falling softly around and smiling—a soft, completely content smile. I knew that moment would be etched in my mind forever.

I thought about the coming school year with her—our last year. If I was ever going to tell her my feelings I would need to do it soon. Due dates for college applications were coming up and if I wanted to be with her for that next step in our lives, she would need to know my feelings before too long.

When would I get up enough guts to tell her how I felt? Often times it seemed she'd drop hints of feeling the same, yet I was so scared. I liked her more than anyone I had ever known, but I was afraid of rejection. I knew it would hurt too deeply if she ever refused me or if I ever lost her. But I couldn't take the chance of missing this opportunity. This feeling I had for her was something rare, I knew. I'd regret it my whole life if I didn't tell her. And Gerald's words kept creeping back into my mind. "Arnold…promise me you won't wait too long and miss your chance. I have a feeling she's the one for you…if you wait to long…you might lose your chance…forever." I shuddered at the thought. We were meant to be together.

Sandy had looked adorable that night when she had been telling her joke. Her eyes had sparkling with so much life. Her brilliant smile filling the room. Her little giggle causing smiles to appear on the faces of the other patrons in the restaurant. Her petite, dainty hand in mine…and then that girl had fallen…

My thoughts drifted then to the pretty blonde girl. Who was she? She had seemed so familiar and yet so distant. I thought about her wavy hair and the way it hung over one eye delicately. It brought me back to a distant memory of the nameless girl I had Valentine's dinner with once back in fourth grade. I knew it couldn't be "Cecile", as she had called herself, and yet it was strange the way my mind kept going back to that memory. A memory I hadn't though about for a long time. It was a childish memory, aged and distant. But I let my mind wander to it as I walked home in the dark.

I looked up into her sky blue eyes. "There's one thing I still don't understand." Two Ceciles, but the real Cecile left with Gerald. I had no idea who this girl was. "Who are you?"

She looked back at me nervously. I stared into her eyes probing her to answer.

"I…um…I can't tell you," she said quietly averting her eyes from my gaze.

Well, that's silly, I thought. "Why not?

She turned away and looked up into the dark night sky. "I just can't, that's all. Okay?"

I stared at the back of her head. The wavy golden locks delicately sitting on her shoulders. "Oh, okay. I guess." I felt so torn. I liked this "Cecile" person whoever she was. She was so real and beautiful and sweet. I felt a strong connection with her and really wanted to know who she was. Goodness, I wanted to see her again! I slowly reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Will I see you again?" I asked.

She looked at me through the curl over her eye. "Oh, probably," she shrugged.

I turned her to look at me. "I just wanted to tell you that this is the best Valentine's Day I've ever had," I told her, taking her hand.

"Me too, but now I have to go," she said quietly.

"Well, we'll always have Chez Paris," I smiled, and kissed her hand gently.

That had been such a good Valentine's Day. I wonder what happened to that girl…

(Helga's Point of View)

"The boy you like?" Olga gasped. "Lives here?" she clapped her hands together in excitement. "Oh, that's too wonderful, baby sister!"

I frowned at her in the mirror. She could be so annoying sometimes. "Where you abducted by aliens last night and replaced by a crazy pod-person or something? It's anything but wonderful, Olga."

She looked down at me. "Well, why ever not?" she asked me; as if it was the dumbest statement she had ever heard. She pulled the brush roughly through my hair.

"Ouch! Because I was finally getting over him, and moving on. Plus, he'll never like me—ouch!—and he pretty much has a girlfriend, or at least a girl he is completely in love with. Ouch! Criminey!" I sighed, as Olga pushed a bunch of hair in front of my face.

"Oh, silly, Helga! That never stopped anybody! You can still fight for him," she said dramatically, waving the brush in the air. "And besides you saw him for how long? How do you even know he loves her? That's an awful big assumption."

She started ratting my hair then and I tried to hold back the yelps that formed in my mouth. "I saw it in his eyes," I replied, quietly. It was a look I'd seen in my own eyes in the mirrors when I thought about Arnold. "And anyway, Mom said I shouldn't even talk to him. She'd probably like it if I didn't even look at him either. She wants me to move on and she likes Sandy and doesn't want me to mess anything up for her."

"Who's Sandy?" she asked mindlessly, brushing my hair back.

I rolled my eyes. Olga could be so ditzy sometimes. "Ouch! The girl he likes."

"Oh, well, Mommy was your age a long time ago. Me? Well, just a few years ago I was where you are now. I think I probably know better." She smirked at her reflection then. "Plus, I'm married. So, see? I must know a lot about these things." She put a pink barrette in my hair with a smile.

I shook my head at her in the mirror and rolled my eyes. Olga? Know better about something? Never. Sure we were closer and sisterly now, but she was still the same old Olga—silly, unrealistic, and a complete bimbo.

"I can see that, Helga," she said glaring back at me. "Look, I am being completely serious, so listen up." She put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. "Right now, it has been five years since you've seen him right?"

I nodded, not quite sure where she was going with this and not sure I wanted to know.

"And just like you have changed a lot, he has probably changed quite a bit too."

I nodded. By this point she was pacing back and forth behind me as if she was some great conspirator planning the assassination of a president.

"Well, then I say, get to know him again and see if you really truly, deep down still love him, or if these feelings are all in the past. You may not even like who he is now." She stopped behind me and looked into my eyes. "But if you do, then, baby sister, you do something about it!"

I didn't respond as I thought about her words.

"However," she added getting that mommy-tone, "do not do anything irrationally where he or that girl are concerned, okay? I know how you can be sometimes. It's the Pataki in you. Stop and think before you do anything. Helga the little bully is still in there somewhere," she poking a sharp fingernail on my shoulder.

I nodded slowly thinking on her words. They seemed logical. Maybe I really wouldn't even like Arnold anymore and I could finally move on. Yah, I thought, that's what I'm going to do.

"So what do you think?" she asked, smiling at me in the mirror.

"That actually sounds like a good idea," I smiled at her, trying to hide my shock.

"No, silly, I mean your hair. What do you think about your hair?"

I stared at my hair. It was one of those huge puffy balls of mess that was so popular now. "It looks like something a rat crawled out of," I stated and gave her a big exaggerated smile.

"Oh, baby sister, you are such a silly goose! I know you love it!" she cried engulfing me in a hug. "Now let's do something with your bangs!" She lifted my bangs up just then and stared at me. "Oh, baby sister! I thought we took care of this last time I was here." She was staring at my eyebrows with a grotesque expression.

"Oops, I guess I just forgot to keep up on them." I was still wasn't used to the whole idea of plucking or waxing my eyebrows, so I guess I had forgotten to do anything about them and they were looking kind of bushy again.

"Oh, Helga," she said with distain. "What will I ever do with you?" She leaned forward, tweezers in hand, armed and dangerous.

I gulped.

"Ouch!"

(Arnold's Point of View)

I opened the front door and moved aside as a collection of my grandmother's cats came running out led by Abner. I sighed. Some things never change.

"That you, Shortman?" I heard Grandpa call from the kitchen as I walked in the front door.

"Yah," I replied as I stepped into the kitchen. I sat down next to him and looked over at what looked like the last bite of his dinner

"Smart move leaving," he was whispering quietly, pointing down to the green mess in his bowl. "Seaweed stew."

I held back a gag when I heard Grandma coming down the hall singing.

"Oh, Kimba, how was your date with Doris?"

"Good, Grandma."

Grandma in her craziness had met Sandy and on the moment they met she decided she was the old actress Doris Day. Probably because Sandy sang show tunes constantly and was so darn old-fashioned sometimes. Of course with her brunette hair she looked nothing like Doris Day, but you know Grandma—crazy as a loon.

Sandy adored the fact that Grandma called her that. "I just love Doris Day," she'd whisper to me anytime Grandma called her that. Sometimes when the two of us were together she'd call us Calamity Jane and Bill Hickok, depending on her mood, of course.

"Why didn't you bring her in to see us before you left? I was hoping to hear her sing 'The Windy City'."

Grandma would also make Sandy perform for her anytime she was around. I was always afraid it would irritate Sandy, but she just loved doing it, and she adored my Grandma too. Strangely enough they were the perfect, crazy pair sometimes.

"Maybe next time, Grandma," I sighed.

She shrugged lightly and left the room singing, "by the sea, by the sea, by the sea…by the beautiful sea…"

Shaking his head, Grandpa turned back to me. "Well, Shortman, why do you sound so down? Didn't you have fun?" he asked peering into my face.

"Well, it started off good, Grandpa, but then…" I stared at the A carved into the table from when I was five and traced it with my finger. "Oh, I don't know…"

"But then what?"

I sighed. "Well, we were having a lot of fun talking when this girl shows up at a table near us and she just looked so darn familiar." I paused, once more feeling guilty all over again. "I guess I got distracted and ignored Sandy."

Grandpa feigned disgust. "Arnold, how could you?"

"Grandpa." I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, sorry, Shortman." He took one last bite of the stew and pushed it away with his nose in the air. "You know…this reminds me of a story…"

I sighed. "I hope it's actually a pertinent one, Grandpa."

Grandpa was getting older and his stories just seemed to have less and less practical application to the current situation.

"Pertinent? Not sure what that means, but I know you'll like it!" he smiled. "Might help ya out a bit too. Lets see now…do you remember the time I told you about the girl in my grade school class who used to pick on me endlessly?"

I frowned; so far this story was looking useless. "Yes, but I don't see why that has anything to do with—"

"Now, now, Arnold, just give me a minute before you start doubting me, it'll have a point." He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Now, Gertie and I became really good friends once we got a little older. Oh, she'd still pick on me and tease me, but it was different by that time. We spent all our free time together doing the things we both loved."

"That's like Sandy and I," I smiled, thinking of her then. "We do everything together."

"Mm-hmm, that's right. But around our senior year I remember this new girl moved in, her name was Veronica."

"Veronica?" I asked, with a snort.

"Yes, Veronica, and boy, was she beautiful, Arnold. Had beautiful brown, cascading hair, great big blue eyes, and a smile that would light up the whole town. And you see, Arnold, she was a city girl." He smiled to himself and paused as if remembering. "The moment I laid eyes on her I thought she was the most incredible thing to ever walk on this earth. I completely forgot about dear old Gertie."

"What happened, Grandpa?" I asked, this all sounding sort of familiar…not exactly what had happened to me, but similar.

"Well, Gertie, she got really mad at me and starting playing pranks on the two of us whenever we did anything together. We ignored her for the most part…until one day Gertie went too far," he exclaimed, raising his voice for dramatics.

I smiled slightly. "What did she do?"

"Well, she found out about our planned outing. We were going to the nearby bay where they had canoe rides for 10 cents and we were going to go canoeing under the moonlight. Well, Gertie, decided it would be a great joke to drill a hole in our canoe so that once we were out in the lake we'd start sinking."

"What happened? Did you sink?" I couldn't believe someone would actually play such a mean prank.

"We got out there and it was so nice being alone—just me and Veronica. But when we realized we were sinking Veronica became so nervous she started crying because she couldn't swim! I told her not to worry, I'd save her. We tried to row to shore, but as our boat became more and more full of water, she fainted she was so scared. Finally though, we had to abandon ship—or canoe in this case. I pulled Veronica to shore but she was still unconscious. As the lifeguard was trying to revive her, Gertie appeared out of nowhere and started crying that it was all her fault and that she didn't mean to hurt anyone, just play a joke. She started blubbering—you know how woman are—and she finally admitted that she had done all these other pranks and finally this one because she was so jealous. I was a little shocked by her outburst. About that time Veronica had woken up and once I realized she was okay, I told her I'd walk her home. Before we left I asked Gertie to meet me at the park before dark."

"So did she meet you then?" I asked, actually partly enjoying the story.

"She did." He smiled to himself. "And well, as I had walked Veronica home I started thinking about Gertie and began realizing my feelings for her. When I got there she was waiting beneath the tree and I realized just how beautiful she was. She told me how she felt and I told her I felt the same."

"But Grandpa, weren't you still upset with her for what she did to Veronica?" I asked. It seemed like such a cruel prank to play. "Veronica could have drowned!"

"When first I left to walk Veronica home I was, but then I thought about Gertie. The way she grew up, and why she did it and then I understood that she hadn't meant any malice by it. I don't think she know Veronica didn't how to swim." Grandpa looked at me then. "Everything turned out fine and Gertie even apologized to Veronica."

"Wow, Grandpa, that's quite the story." I stated and then started thinking about it. "I don't really see how it applies to me…where exactly were you going with it?"

He got a confused look on his face. "I don't remember. Guess it doesn't really apply, Shortman. Just the part with the friend and the other girl."

"Well, then what am I supposed to do. I was looking for advice. Not just a story." I put my chin in my hand and stared glumly out the window.

"Well, what's she like? Chocolate? Flowers?" He made a funny face when his stomach started making strange gurgling noises.

"Lilacs," I told him, thoughtfully.

Once more his stomach made a disgusting noise. "Shortman, I would love to finish this conversation…" he looked around, almost nervously. "Pookey? Were those little red things in the stew raspberries?"

(Helga's Point of View)

I lay in bed that night thinking about Arnold and the coming day of school. What would I say to him when we first ran into each other again? Will he recognize me? Will he look at me and think I am beautiful? Will he even notice me with Sandy around?

I punched my pillow angrily. Sandy. Yes, she would be a problem. Not only because I could tell she liked Arnold, and I was pretty certain Arnold liked her in return. But because I liked her and felt pretty sure that we could be friends. How could I hurt her by taking Arnold? Assuming he even noticed me…and assuming he even liked me enough to choose me over Sandy…and that was a lot of "what ifs"…

I lay there trying to fall asleep, but it was entirely impossible. I kept combating between the advice from Mom and the advice from Olga. Olga's made a little more sense, surprisingly enough. It would give me more closure to approach him and see what he was like now, as opposed to avoiding him. If he was completely different, I was pretty certain I wouldn't like him anymore. But what if I still loved him? What then?

Memories from ages before kept flooding back. Arnold was all I could think about. Moments that we had shared through our younger years ran through my mind like mazes of confusion and heartache. He had always been there for me. And a lot of times I had been there for him too. It had been as if fate was pushing us together.

My love for him had become such a huge part of who I was, I didn't know what to do when he left. I didn't know who I was anymore. It had been as if a piece of my very soul was missing. Through the years I hard worked hard to find myself, and I had come so far, and had almost accepted my life without Arnold. And of course, like some insane twist of fate, here he was again!

Oh, Arnold! I thought. Why have you come back to haunt my soul with your angelic presence. Why must you tempt me to stop moving forward and come back to you? I was making progress, my darling. But alas, one look at you and everything fell to pieces. Arnold, my heart cannot take it. It's already been broken to pieces once.

As I slowly began to fall asleep, I wondered what tomorrow would bring and how would I keep myself from seeking him out.

Posted: December 2007

Updated: March 2016

-Arnold's Love