Helga did as her sister yelled at her to do.
"To the gate, to the gate!" her sister screamed.
"No, Helga don't!" Steven shouted, desperate. "Stop!"
But she didn't. Olga got in his way when he went to lunge at her. She practically flew down the stairs, and as she got to the bottom, she heard a short scream and then a thumping and banging noise. She paused to look back and wished she hadn't. She saw as her sister came to rest at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide, mouth open, head twisted at an unnatural angle. Helga looked up and saw Steven coming down the stairs, not even looking at Olga who was lying there, clearly dead. She pulled open the door and ran out into the snow in the flismy nightie and barefoot. But she didn't stop, even when she heard Steven screaming for her to come back. Had he pushed her down the stairs? Her heart started to ache. Where would she go? She stopped for a brief second and looked around her. She should have grabbed car keys, but she hadn't known. She had to get to the gate at least? Maybe Olga had left her the car? No, she couldn't see her sisters car there. She hesitated a moment, before charging on. Her sister wouldn't set her wrong, would she?
She had so many doubt running through her head. Her feet were freezing, and she could feel her nose starting to block up already. She was going to pay dearly for this, she knew. She could still hear Steven calling out her name. She risked a glance back and saw he was making much better ground than she was. She charged ahead a bit faster, but she was cold and tired. She wasn't going to make it! Would Steven kill her too? She started to cry. No, no! Don't cry, don't cry! Your going to make it, you can make it! She looked up, she was so close . . .
"Noooo!" she heard Steven wail behind her. "Helga stop, come back!"
But she didn't. She kept on running before stumbling. Falling face first into the snow, she pushed herself up just as she felt arms pick her up. She screamed and went to pull away, only to see it was Arnold!
"She's mine, she belongs to me!" Steven was yelling.
"Just keep going," Arnold told her, pulling her along. Her feet were so cold, and it was spreading. Her nighty was cold and damp now after the fall. Arnold pushed her through the gate and came after her, pulling it behind him. Steven banged into it, screaming Helga's name.
"We can talk about this, please Helga, please, I love you, come back," he was saying desperately, reaching through the gate. Helga felt a pang, but Arnold turned her towards the road and led her down, running before Steven could get the gate open and chase them.
Arnold pulled open the back door of the green Packard, pushing her in first, then getting in himself.
"Drive Grandpa!" he shouted, just as Steven banged into the back of the car, screaming Helga's name. "Don't look back Helga, just don't."
They pulled away and Steven ran after the car a bit, before turning and heading back up the driveway.
Helga had started to hyperventilate. Her lips were purple, and she was shivering.
"We need to get the girl to the hospital, Arnold," Phil said. "She's not looking to good."
Arnold pulled off his thick coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, and pulled her into him. Then realized she was saying something over and over.
"He pushed her, he pushed her, he pushed her . . ." she was repeating over and over and shuddering each time.
"He pushed her? Who, Olga?" Arnold asked. Helga just let out a moan, covered her face and started to cry hard. Arnold just kept his arms around her, not asking anymore questions. She was a mess. There was something so devastating about a girl who had once been so strong, be so broken.
. . .
"We do need to keep her in for observation," the nurse said. "The police are also here to speak to you both."
Arnold sat holding Helga's hand. She was asleep. She was just very cold when she was brought in. Quietly he got up and went out to see the waiting policemen. He pulled out an envelope from his pocket. It was something Olga had written in case something happened to her. Should he need he had something to give to the police for her.
"Arnold . . . um, sorry, it's smudged . . ." the younger policeman said, looking at his partner sheepishly. "Your Arnold?" Arnold nodded.
"We need to ask you a few questions and clear some things up," the older one said gruffly. "According to what we have been told, Miss Pataki pushed her older sister down the stairs, resulting in her sisters death."
Arnold's mouth dropped. Olga was dead?
"No that's not what would have happened," he told them. "When Helga was in the car with me she kept saying he pushed her."
"He being her brother-in-law, Steven Stonefield?" the younger one asked.
"Yeah," Arnold said.
"What makes you so sure?" the older one asked. Arnold handed the letter to him.
"Olga wrote this, in case something happened to her," he explained. "He was . . . using Helga."
"For what?" the younger one asked. The older one started to frown.
"Sex."
The younger one eyes went wide, and the older one frowned more. "Are you claiming he raped her?"
"I guess, I don't really know what was going on," he admitted. "She wasn't really making much sense."
"Make sure there is a social worker with us when we talk to her," the older cop said to the nurse.
"If I can get one-"
"You will."
The nurse nodded and went off to make a phone call.
. . .
When she awoke, she looked and saw Arnold was sleeping in a chair. She looked to see she was hooked up to monitors, and was in a hospital gown. She stared up at the ceiling. What happened? she asked herself. Closing her eyes she saw the image of her sister lying at the bottom of those grand stairs, twisted, broken. Dead. She gasped and sobbed, waking Arnold from his slumber.
"Helga, it's okay," he said, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips.
"He pushed her, Arnold, he pushed her down the stairs," she sobbed.
"I know," he said, rubbing her hand. He grabbed the ringer and pushed the button to call a nurse to come in. When she saw she was awake, she went off, then came back ten minutes later with a doctor. Arnold looked up to see that she wasn't just any doctor. And she looked familiar. Older, with grey streaks in her jet black hair.
"Doctor Bliss?" Helga asked.
"Hello, Helga," she said, calmly walking in and taking a seat. "I hear you've had an interesting time of it over the last year."
Helga didn't say anything, she just began to cry. Arnold watched Dr. Bliss, who just sat there, observing her, not moving to comfort her at all, except to pass her a tissue.
"Can't you say something to make her stop?" Arnold asked. She just smiled at him and shook her head.
"This is something she needs to do first," she told him. "When she's ready, she will stop and we will talk. Alone."
"I can't stay?" he asked. Dr. Bliss shook her head.
"I'd say it's better that you don't hear what she has to say just yet," she explained. "Plus I need her to be completely open, and she may not be with you here."
"Please, Arnold, just go," Helga said quietly. "I'll be fine."
Arnold looked between the two women, before sighing and leaving the room. It was an hour before Dr. Bliss came out of the room, looking concerned and troubled. She gave him a small smile, then went to one of the nurses to talk quietly. Arnold tried to listen to what was being said, but just couldn't quite hear it. About twenty minutes later the policemen arrived and Dr. Bliss came to greet them and take them to another room.
While that was all going on he saw a familiar man walking down the hallway towards the nurses station. Arnold got up and went to block his way.
"I'n here to see my sister-in-law, Helga Pataki," he said to the nurse behind the counter.
"And you are?" the nurse asked.
"A rapist and a killer," Arnold said. The nurse looked up at him. "You pushed Olga down the stairs and killed her, then you tried to blame Helga, and now you have the cheek to come here?"
Dr. Bliss and the policemen came out of the room they had gone into. "Are you Steven, Helga's brother-in-law?" she asked.
Steven and Arnold continued to glare at each other.
"You have no right to tell me I can't see her," he said, completely ignoring Dr. Bliss and the police officers.
"No, but I do," Phil said, coming up behind him. Steven turned to see him and a hospital social worker standing with him. "Olga transferred guardianship to me and Pookie."
"What?" he asked, stunned.
"Yeah, Olga didn't trust you either," Arnold said, smirking.
"You can't do this," he said, looking like someone who had been punched in the stomach. "You can't take her away from me."
"Get security," Dr. Bliss told the nurse. "This isn't going to be pretty."
"Helga!" he called out. "I'm sorry! Come back!"
The police officers moved forward, and security came up behind them.
"You can't take her away from me, she's mine!" he yelled, yanking himself away from the officer holding him. "Helga I love you! I love you!" One of the security guards tripped him, and the policemen kneeled on his back as he continued to call out to Helga. Once he was cuffed he was dragged out. Dr. Bliss went straight into Helga's room. Arnold followed behind and looked in. His heart broke at the sight of Helga crying so hard, and seemingly starting to hyperventilate again.
"I need a sedative!" Dr. Bliss called out the door. A nurse disappeared, then returned with a full needle. She entered the room and closed the door, blocking off Arnold's view.
"She's going to need a lot of help," Phil told his grandson, coming up and resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's going to take her time to heal. He did a number on her, that's for sure."
"You know what happened?" Arnold asked. Phil nodded, looking sad.
"Might be best if you take a step back for a while, Shortman," he said. "I'm not too sure we're going to be equipped to deal with the help she will need."
. . .
Helga told Dr. Bliss about what had been happening. From beginning to end.
For a while Dr. Bliss just sat there, letting it all soak in. This was over and above her. She bit her lip. Helga seemed almost confused about everything. What she described was rape, yet Helga didn't seem to understand that or put it down to that.
"How can it be rape, when I didn't say no?" she asked. "And I liked it . . . I don't . . ."
Dr. Bliss felt bad for her. Eventually Helga just clammed up, and Dr. Bliss gave up and left her alone for a bit. She walked past Arnold, giving him a small smile, before letting the nurse know that she was ready to talk to the police. This wasn't going to be clean cut for them, and they weren't going to like it. She often felt bad for the police. They would work so hard to catch a guy, to put bad people away, and so often those very people they were out to stop would just walk away. She'd known some who had either quit, or finally just lost their rag one day on the job.
When the police came back, she brought up the topic of the container Helga said she had found.
"We have a team over there now, investigating," they told her. She nodded. "Now, about this rape allegation?"
"I'm not sure how it will stick," Dr. Bliss. "She's . . . it's very complicated. She doesn't seem to see it that way."
The older cop shook his head. "I see this a lot. Just make sure she doesn't go walking back to him."
No one wanted that. She looked at her watch, wondering where the social worker was when they heard the kerfuffle outside. The three of them got up and went out into the hallway. "Are you Steven, Helga's brother-in-law?" she asked. The man ignored her continuing to stare down Arnold. She could see the man getting wound up, and wanted him out before it got too messy and possibly violent, especially when she saw also that Arnold was flexing his hands, putting them in and out of a fist formation. He didn't even seem to be aware he was doing it. She had to intervene. "Get security, this isn't going to be pretty," she told the nurse, who got right on the phone, nervously watching what was happening. The police stepped forward first, taking hold of his arm and trying to move him on. Then he did exactly what Dr. Bliss was afraid he'd do.
He addressed Helga personally.
Once the police had him under control and out of range, she rushed into the room Helga was in to see her going into the full blown panic attack. She was struggling to breath. Dr. Bliss grabbed her hands, calling for a sedative. The nurse came back a moment, closing the door behind her, and injected the sedative into the IV line. It took a moment but Helga finally started to calm down, and Dr. Bliss continued to try to talk her down from the attack. When Helga fell back against the bed and just cried she turned to the nurse.
"Place her in the psychiatric ward for observation," she said. "I want someone with her at all times."
. . .
"So basically, until she straight up makes a formal complaint of rape, there's nothing we can do but put a protection order in place, and tresspass him from the hospital and Boarding House," the policeman told them. "I'm sorry."
"What about the container?" Arnold asked.
"His employee Colin came forward to confess he hid them in there when he realized his rooms could be searched," he told them with a shrug. "Until we get evidence that he was involved, with a confession from someone else, we can't do anything about that either. I'm really sorry."
"You don't think it's strange that first his-"
"We can't do anything kid, not without evidence," he said. "And don't you go out of your way to find any. Just stay away from the man."
"So he could walk away from it all?" Arnold demanded. "He kept her prisoner, raped her, maybe murdered girls-"
"And until something shows up that could prove that, we can't do anything, which is why we're telling you to stay away from him," the policeman told him firmly. "I don't want to be finding you dead in a ditch somewhere."
Arnold sat back, feeling completely helpless and useless. He wasn't able to go in and see Helga. Steven could walk away from all these charges because of the mental and emotional state Helga was in. He buried his head in his hands.
"Look, you just concentrate on getting yourself finished at school," Phil said. "We can handle the rest. You need that education."
"Grandpa, how can I even-"
"You want to add to the poor girls trauma?" he asked. "She's feeling bad enough right now. Imagine how much worse she will feel if you turn around and blow all your hard work. Because of her. She'll blame herself for that. She's blaming herself for enough as it is."
. . .
Helga sat on the bed, looking at the floor. She knew the nurse who was with her was watching her to make sure she didn't hurt herself. She laid back. Trapped again, she thought. It seemed like she could never escape from anywhere . . .
"Nurse, can I have a word?" another nurse asked. The other one gave Helga a quick look, then went just outside the door. Helga got up to listen.
"This was to be passed on to Helga, but I'm not sure it should be."
"Take it to Dr. Forore. He'll read it and decide himself."
"Okay then."
The nurse almost bumped into Helga as she came in the door.
"What was it?" she asked.
"A letter," the nurse told her. "Your psychiatrist will read it over, and decide if you should read it as well."
"Shouldn't that be my choice?" she demanded.
"You're not the one who needs to clean up the mess," the nurse told her. "Now, are you feeling crafty?"
"No, I'm not feeling crafty," Helga snapped. "I want to leave. Now!"
"When your doctor says your ready, you can," she told her. "Until then, you just have to put up with it."
Helga glared at the woman. "This is a joke, I'm not crazy."
"No, but you do pose a risk to yourself," the nurse said, going back to her book. "Besides, from what I understand, you're much safer in here than out there."
Helga couldn't fault that logic. She sat down again. The nurse sighed.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the craft room or something?" she asked, clearly fed up with looking at four walls. Helga smiled at her sweetly, just so the nurse would know she was doing this to spite her.
"No, I'm good," she said cheerily. "I'm used to being locked up."