A/N: Another POV shift. Expect these, this is the primary device through which I manage my story's narrative.
Keeping Arnold, Chapter 3 - The Orphan They Cut in Half
"The more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes" - Vladimir Nabokov
Phoebe Heyerdahl could hardly believe what she was hearing, that if she had not trusted the source of information so unconditionally, she would reject the thought utterly out of hand.
She was sitting opposite Gerald Johanssen, her long-time friend and ex boyfriend, simply at a loss of words immediately following the bombshell that the handsome young man dropped on her. The pretty, petite girl was finally able to register that she was staring at Gerald, who was staring back, and for an instant the intimacy of their gaze was enough to cause her to break eye contact and look down at her gently steaming cup of Oolong tea.
"Yeah, it shocked me too," Gerald finally said. She could hear the hint of disappointment in him, the slight acid of a bitter memory. He was clearly affected and upset by the news, which also surprised Phoebe. "When Arnold told me I nearly flew myself down there to smack some sense into him."
"But if what you assert is truthful, Gerald, don't you think we should immediately inform Helga?" Her thoughts immediately fell to her best friend, who had been pining miserably for ten years over the foolish, heroic young man in question. Phoebe had been there for it all, closest to the misery and the drama, had helped Helga over the years work herself up from a vast, cavernous depression into what was a manageable baseline level of simple misery. It had taken every lesson in patience Phoebe ever learned from her father to pull off.
Now, though, everything was threatening to unravel. Phoebe's primary interest was to get ahead of the coming disaster, and set mitigating forces in play before it made landfall and drowned everyone.
"Actually, that's the biggest reason I called you up," Gerald started. He had her undivided attention, of course, when he called her out of the blue and asked her to get coffee and pie with him.. She had no trace of bitterness over the end of their high school romance-it had happened simply too long ago for the mature, intelligent girl to bear Gerald any ill will. It helped that she was still very attracted to him, and still counted him as one of her closest friends. They spoke often enough since Phoebe ended up in the Ivy League University of her choice, but distance had a way of drifting old friends - even lovers - apart. She was all too happy to take the chance to drive the short trip back to Hillwood, see Helga, and have a coffee date with Gerald again. She had not been anticipating the reason could be this.
"See, I think my man Arnold is making a mistake." Phoebe's slender eyebrows lifted over the rim of her glasses when he confessed his analysis. "I always said he was a bold kid, but don't you think he's too young, too nice, and too selfless to make this kind of decision and not tell anyone?"
"Gerald, I'm sure that Arnold has carefully weighed the advantages and disadvantages of the possible scenarios and settled on the most equitable outcome for all the parties involved. Why do you assume he has made his choice in a vacuum? Doesn't he have the watchful guidance of his mother and father from which to draw wisdom?"
"That's the thing, Pheebs, he hasn't told them yet."
Phoebe almost squeaked with surprise, she was so taken off guard by that revelation. Arnold was honest to a fault and totally incapable of guile. Besides the anomalous April Fool's Day incident, he had never managed to trick Phoebe or Helga or anyone. The fact that he had managed to keep something this significant from his parents made Phoebe uneasy.
She smoothed out the black pencil skirt she was wearing, looking at her galaxy print leggings as she unraveled the scenario for digestion and the best next steps. She noticed that Gerald watched her with interest, and felt a private little thrill that she was getting to spend some private time with him again.
Focus, Phoebe. What is imperative is that you are able to successfully navigate the emotional maelstrom that is sure to come when Helga finds out. Consider the alternatives, and calculate the variable scenarios to ensure that the damage is minimized.
Gerald cleared his throat, and Phoebe jumped, caught in her woolgathering and dissembling.
"So...I think I have a plan,:" Gerald carefully began. "Arnold's said he's coming back to Hillwood." Phoebe's eyes widened. That complicated things. "So, I say, we stir the pot."
"Stir the...pot?" Phoebe scrunched her nose at the colloquialism. She wasn't sure how it applied in this specific scenario.
"Yeah, girl, stir the pot. Listen, what is Arnold if not a busybody? And he practically can't help himself when he sees trouble, right?"
Phoebe nodded, her mind racing forward along Gerald's suggested path, seeing in advance where he was going with this.
"So you suggest that we get Arnold and Helga together, and allow the immediate dramatic upheaval to unravel Arnold's intended course of action."
"Hey, it could happen." Gerald's easy smile spread wide. Phoebe's cheeks flushed slightly, but she continued.
"Do you perhaps think that exposure to Helga will cause Arnold to rethink what you assert he has spent little time considering already, and perhaps...bring them together?"
Gerald shrugged for her. "I dunno man. I really don't. Helga's Helga. Helga G. Pataki, we're talking about. Who knows what that girl's gonna do when she sees Arnold again." Phoebe knew. Helga would explode like a shell volcano that had been building geologic pressure over eons. "But what I do know is that my man is being too bold here. Nobody in this world sets him straight faster than Helga G. Pataki."
Phoebe had to admit, the idea was cunning, if less than subtle. But the plan was too precipitous; if neither of the two performed to the expected behaviors, nothing would come of it. It needed augmentation to have any chance of success.
"Gerald, forgive my impertinence in asking, but you still possess the little black book with Fuzzy Slippers' dossiers within, correct?" Gerald's right eyebrow cocked.
"Yeah, why? What's it got to do with this?"
"Well, while I have determined that there is merit in your suggestion, I would posit that the probable outcomes are too varied and unpredictable. If we simply arrange for those two to have some serendipitous rendezvous, it is just as likely that Helga, in her panic, will push him away again. And then Arnold's fate is sealed, I am afraid."
Gerald thought about what she said, then nodded when he fully grasped the meaning of it.
"To that end, I suggest that we utilize the resources at hand; Let us make use of the ciphers that we've managed to decode thus far, and wield the influence it affords us over Hillwood. For the best of intentions, of course."
Gerald's eyebrow cocked ever higher. He rubbed at the close-shaven beard on his jaw. Phoebe knew it was a gamble. Using that book was risky in and of itself.
"Could be an idea, Pheebs, could be an idea. You thinkin' we bring everybody back together?"
"Precisely."
Gerald folded his strong arms over his red jersey. Phoebe couldn't help herself; she examined the strong cords of muscles that roped from his biceps to his wrists. Gerald had always been athletic, but he really approached scholastic sports with enthusiasm now that he was in college. It had been effective in augmenting his already considerable attractiveness to Phoebe.
"Let's say we throw Arnold a 'Welcome Home' party?" Phoebe nodded at Gerald's suggestion. It was a good idea. A large, significant social gathering, liberally lubricated by alcohol and populated by a lifetime's supply of old friends, rivals, and crushes. It was the ideal environment to expose Arnold to Helga and let sparks fly.
"We need to get Helga's band to play at the party," Gerald suddenly blurted out. Phoebe jumped at his suggestion, and then furiously worked out in her thoughts what that would accomplish, and what it risked.
"I think that is a very high risk, high reward scenario. If you have observed any of Helga's songs, you would hopefully be astute enough to immediately recognize the subject matter as almost exclusively Ice Crea-er, I mean, Arnold."
Gerald nodded, enthusiastically. "Yeah, exactly! How you think that's gonna make my man Arnold feel, when after ten years of writing Helga all those letters and getting nothing back, he comes to the party and she's up on stage singin' about how bad she's got it for him?" Phoebe thought that Gerald had adjusted remarkably well to the thought of Helga having feelings for Arnold; when he initially discovered Arnold kissing Helga when they were ten in the jungles of San Lorenzo, Phoebe vividly remembered the hyperventilation, the shrieking, and the manic rants against this reality as being impossible according to every known law of creation. And here he was, frankly including what he thought he knew about Helga's feelings in the difficult equation of Arnold plus Helga.
"I can only imagine the turmoil that would bring to his heart. If he was unsure in the slightest about his chosen course of action, it would certainly suffice enough to give him pause. Perhaps rethink his decision entirely."
"And you throw in everybody from PS118, all unloading all their pent up shit from the years? Arnold's a trouble magnet. Guarantee at the end of the night he's thinking about moving back to Hillwood."
"That is definitely a possible outcome," Phoebe nodded. She sipped at her now cooling tea. The woody flavor and slightly astringent bitterness refreshed her mind. "But we must remain mindful of the fact that when Helga finds out, her reaction will likely be a violent outburst. Perhaps Arnold has matured enough to weather such a reaction, but if there is confusion within him it might harden his heart all the same. And then we are faced with the original dilemma, without any means of escape."
"Shit. This is too hard, man. I'm not meant for this kind of thing." Gerald took a deep breath, leaning back in the booth to look at the ceiling. Phoebe looked at his large Adam's apple, then up at his brown eyes.
"Luckily you have me, an expert on such maneuvering," Phoebe cheerfully sighed. Even though what they faced was serious, irreversible, and disastrous, she couldn't help but admit she still enjoyed Gerald's company as much as when they were dating. Of course, when she got into University, they amicably parted, both recognizing that the challenges of a long distance relationship would mostly likely only serve to end their friendship. It had been at this exact diner, in fact, in this same booth that they had embraced once last time as lovers, and then shook hands again as friends.
And though she rarely made bold moves herself, the sometimes sneaky Phoebe felt like she didn't want the evening to simply be about Arnold and Helga.
"You have become very handsome in six months, Gerald," she finally said.
Gerald lifted his head up and looked at her, a little smile on his face. "Oh yeah? Did I?"
"Indeed. I'm very glad you called me, regardless of the unpleasant matter at hand. Strategizing with you is very…" Phoebe ran her finger along the ceramic rim of her teacup. "stimulating."
Gerald's eyebrows waggled, and then he smiled one of his trademark smooth smiles at her. Phoebe had to stifle a giggle, she was so tickled by his reaction.
"Well hell, baby. Why don't we call it a night for Arnold, and start the night over, just us like old times?"
Phoebe's eyes flashed with excitement over the rims of her glasses. That interested her a great deal. The rest of the details of the plan could wait. After all, Gerald had invited her for drinks and dessert, and she would satisfy her sweet tooth.
Phoebe and Gerald sat in the booth together at Bigal's Diner, on the side facing the door so that they could see Helga and Brainy coming. it had been a little less than a month ago that they had met here for the first time in six months to discuss the situation with Arnold. Phoebe blushed privately at the memory of how that night had concluded, very aware of the male presence of Gerald sitting next to her. His hand was on her knee casually while he drank his coffee. The secretive, intimate contact thrilled her.
"They better get here soon," he sighed into his steaming cup.
"I stressed the urgency of the matter to both Helga and Brian," Phoebe assured him. "I especially stressed to Brian the importance of not revealing the truth to Helga, should he somehow discover the secret."
"Good call, Pheebs. That guy don't say much? But he listens too damn much. Who knows what he'll find out."
"Even if he were to discover everything, it is unlikely that he would jeopardize the plan by telling Helga. I, uh, put the fear in him."
Gerald laughed briefly, but became very serious as he saw the darting flash of blonde in the window. The two of them straightened up right away, hands above the table, preparing for when Helga would storm in.
She didn't disappoint. The glass door slammed open, the little bell above the entryway jingling out of control at the nearly tectonic violence of the motion. She was soaked, of course, because the late Summer weather had picked up into a steady unseasonal rain. It somehow added to the terror of her entrance, like a literal feminine force of oceanic nature had burst in and would lay her terrible vengeance on all she surveyed. Phoebe felt her heart leap into her throat-somehow even after decades of friendship, Helga always managed to shock and surprise her with her level of Amazonian ferocity.
"Alright, start talking right the fuck now, Froboy!" Helga demanded, slamming her wet messenger bag onto the booth table and leaning over them menacingly. Phoebe watched Helga stare down Gerald many times in the past, but rarely had he literally withered under her as he was doing now, shrinking like a dried up slug beneath a harsh and angry sun.
Phoebe started to talk, noting that Brainy had walked up behind Helga to loom above them, silent features quiescent and simply observing.
"Helga, calm down and take a seat. We're going to calmly share a slice of pie, and then we'll discuss what is going on in exhaustive detail. Threatening Gerald is neither productive nor necessary."
Helga shot Phoebe a hot, angry look. Helga rarely, if ever, got mad at Phoebe. It was always about Arnold when she did. Phoebe swallowed the awkward fear she felt when her best friend was in a fury, and stared back up at her. Helga seemed to calm down a bit when Phoebe didn't back down, and then shoved herself into the booth, crossing her arms over her pink flannel shirt clinging to her chest.
"Alright fine. You want to calmly share some pie, then you're buying, Froboy. I want it a la mode, too, and don't skimp on the whipped cream."
Gerald sighed, not daring to roll his eyes but still visibly frustrated.
"Yeah, sure Pataki. You want anything, Brian?" He nodded to the tall boy that had managed to sit in the booth next to Helga without Phoebe noticing.
Brainy shook his head, and in the brief pause in the conversation, Phoebe grabbed the reins of control and began to explain to Helga and Brian the carefully chosen details of their plan, selectively opting to omit the specific pieces about Arnold's secret.
"Where you goin', girl?" Gerald's voice was playful and sleepy in the darkness as Phoebe slipped from the bed and started to dress.
"We still have a lot to work out, Gerald, and I thought I could energize our minds with a pot of fresh tea." Phoebe finished slipping her skirt onto her hips, smiling at the boy who lounged just barely covered by the sheets of his bed. His athletic form thrilled her, even now, but she had tasks at hand to prioritize her attentions.
"Mm, mm-mm!" Gerald tsked. "You're like the Energizer bunny. Between you and Arnold, Gerald Johanssen is headed to an early grave." Gerald flashed his white teeth, and rolled over onto his stomach to gather his clothing as well.
Phoebe made her way quietly into the frat house kitchen. She was sure that girlfriends-was that what she was now?-were no stranger to these walls, but it still felt slightly intrepid to find herself stalking barefoot through the old wooden hallways to heat up a late night pot of tea. When she had the single teapot she could find on the burner, quietly rolling to a steam, she had a moment to thoughtfully chew on the Arnold problem.
There are variables we do not know, and variables we don't know that we don't know. She chewed on her thumb, her thoughts always fell to her favorite strategists when she was having trouble. If we bait Arnold out, he may reveal the reasons behind his decision. But it carries a lot of risk, and relies upon the trust he has in us. Phoebe frowned as the teapot whistled itself into readiness.
That was the hardest part. Deceiving their closest friends. If their plan was going to have any chance at all, it would necessitate the careful manipulation of their two best friends, and people they loved. Nobody would be lying, she reasoned with herself. Appropriate dissemination of intelligence is strategy 101. And it is for a noble cause.
That last thought made her pause as she was scooping the loose leaf tea she found into the teapot. Was it a noble cause? That was one of those known unknowns, she recognized. They didn't know why Arnold would do something so dramatic, so permanent like this, so unannounced. Arnold at least thinks he has a good reason. It is important for us to discover his reason right away.
Phoebe walked the quiet solitary stroll back to Gerald's room, closing the door behind her and setting the tea set on his desk.
"Bless the baby angel responsible for days like today," Gerald sighed. Phoebe stifled another giggle with her hand, handing him the small cup of steaming hot green tea.
"We need to find out why Arnold is doing this first, Gerald."
He blew over his teacup, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I know. My man's got to have what he thinks is a good reason."
Phoebe finally spoke her biggest worry aloud. "What if he is sincere, and this will make him happy? We would be dishonoring our friendship to him...we would be dishonoring our friendship to Helga."
Gerald sipped at the tea, wincing a little at the bitter flavor. He always did that, but he never argued with Phoebe when she poured him a cup.
"I've thought about that...believe me. It's all I think about. If he's serious, and this is gonna make him happy, then all we can do is cheer him on. And I'll be there." Phoebe nodded, feeling the same way. "But," he started, and she felt hopeful. "I don't hear that in his voice. He sounds tired. I'd be, I dunno, excited. Happy. Pumped, hell, I'd be pretty much any kind of way but tired as hell."
Phoebe nodded, settling down on his bed next to Gerald. The details of the plan she had spent the better part of their evening together ruminating on began to take shape in her mind. She had to test them out on the most reliable source she had. Gerald. "I propose that we compose our plan in three stages. The first stage is the preliminary reintroduction of Arnold to Hillwood, and in particular Helga."
"Keep talking, beautiful, I love when you get all Patton on me." Phoebe swatted at Gerald for his flirtatious comment.
"Remain focused, Gerald. The second stage requires the exact opposite; isolation." Phoebe used her hands to pantomime the motion of segregating Arnold from the rest of Hillwood for emphasis. Gerald held his lightly bearded chin thoughtfully. Phoebe thought it gave him a distinguished look, even if she knew it was grown merely for the superstitious purposes of his baseball team's winning streak.
"Isolation? What's your game? I thought we wanted Arnold around everybody."
"We want precisely that. But recall that Arnold is most troubled when he knows problems exist and yet can do nothing about them - if we devise a way to suddenly segregate him from the majority of the class of PS118, I believe the result will be a multiplicative increase if effect on his hopefully wayward heart."
"Phoebe, he's spent ten years away. I think he can handle a little bit more."
"Ignorance has shielded him from the details of all the problems left unresolved. Arnold is at heart an optimist; I am sure he convinced himself that his presence was ultimately not necessary to Hillwood, and that everybody got along just fine."
"So we show Arnold that isn't the case, then keep him from being able to fix anything."
"Precisely."
Gerald leaned back against the headboard of his bed, folding his hands behind his small, carefully groomed afro. He started to nod as he began to digest the particular genius of her suggestion. Now all they needed was the right leverage. Of that, he had plenty.
"I think I see what you mean, Pheebs, but, what about this? I feel like we need to make this second phase a two-parter."
Phoebe tucked her silken black hair behind her ear and glasses. She was intrigued by Gerald's suggestion, and impressed that she found such a worthy partner in this venture in Gerald. He'd always been one for telling grand schemes; Phoebe was surprised and delighted that he was beginning to be as adept at planning them.
"Make your proposal, then," she smiled at him.
"I think we need to keep Arnold away from everybody - except Helga G. Pataki." Gerald smiled back at her, obviously pleased with himself.
"Interesting. You're suggesting that we saturate exposure to Helga, a known pressure point and, we are presuming, a weakness in his heart, while simultaneously removing him from any agency vis a vis the conflicts he encounters at the party between our old friends of PS118."
Gerald didn't seem surprised that she saw right through the heart of it.
"I'll call in favor number two with Pataki, and maybe the four of us spends a weekend at the Pataki beach house."
Phoebe's smile widened quite a bit. Gerald you are beautiful, she thought. She had no argument with this suggestion. It was brilliance, elegance defined. It accomplished all the desired goals for phase two, and had the added bonus of providing everybody with a much-needed vacation in the final weeks of Summer.
"Gerald...do I need to tell you how brilliant that is?" Phoebe just shook her head with a kind of puzzled joy. They had never communicated so effectively before. Somehow, the Gerald before her was ten times more attractive than the Gerald she remembered from high school.
"Yeah, at least one more time. And besides, we don't know if phase one will even work. We might be planning for something that will never happen."
"Yes. That is very true…" Phoebe felt the wind in her sails falter a little, and had to remember they were dealing in very high stakes.
She stared at the mess of the tea leaves at the bottom of her cup, wondering if one could really tell the future by the pattern of their scattering. Such augury would have made everything exceedingly simpler.
"We want to convince Arnold to stay in Hillwood," Phoebe calmly began.
"Yeah, I gathered that one," Helga rudely interrupted, chewing her piece of cherry pie. Somehow her anger still seemed like a viable threat, soaked as she was from the late summer showers.
"Well, the details of this plan are extremely particular. If steps are taken out of order or if we start improvising the whole operation unravels, to quite the dramatic conclusion." Phoebe felt that she was legitimately frustrated with Helga. It was rare that her best friend ever pushed her to this extreme level of consternation. Phoebe knew it was because Helga hated being in the dark about anything, especially things involving Ice Cream.
"Well it's all perfectly lovely that you and Geraldo cooked up some kind of cockamamy chess game to play with Hair Boy, but I deeply resent the fact that I am apparently one of your pawns." Helga was jabbing a piece of pie at the end of her long fork at Phoebe in dramatic intervals, emphasizing her point quite literally at the end of steel.
"Well to be fair, Helga, you are not a pawn, if I borrow your analogy. You are closer to the queen."
Helga's eyebrow arched up. Phoebe could tell that she liked that. One of the surest ways to get in with Helga was flattery; she couldn't help but enjoy praise and positive attention when she was used to never receiving attention at all.
"Keep talking, I like the sound of this." Helga continued to dig into the pie, her temper seeming to fade. Everybody visibly relaxed when she finally started to ease up.
"Gerald and I have worked together on what we think is the best strategy for convincing Arnold not only that he wants to stay in Hillwood, but that Hillwood needs him back."
"Yeah, like Pheebs said," Gerald interjected, "it's all about helping Arnold remember why he loved it here, and why most of our messed up lives went to the pot without him."
Helga chewed her pie slowly, glancing at Brainy. Phoebe wasn't sure what that look meant-the relationship between her best friend and her best friend's one-time stalker always puzzled her. She wasn't sure what to make of their bonds, though she could tell they ran deeply. She reminded herself to scrutinize Brainy a lot closer in the time she was in Hillwood working on the plan.
"Alright...this all sounds really neat and tidy and all, but, how am I the queen of the board? I'm assuming Arnold is the king."
Phoebe nodded. "Yes, you are correct. The game is won by capturing the king, so, in this respect, your analogy is accurate. We are attempting to capture Arnold such that he has no escape that does not itself lead to his capture. In this continued analogy, you are the queen because you are the most valuable piece, and the most dangerous to the opposition. You are the focus of most of the plans, because your relationship with Arnold is so..." Phoebe hesitated, grasping for the right word. "Singular."
"Groovy. Really, that's great, Pheebs, and props to you and Gerald for all the brilliance, yadda yadda yadda...only, Chess isn't a one player game. Who are you playing against?"
Phoebe stiffened in the booth next to Gerald. She hadn't anticipated Helga cutting through the analogy so acutely. She wasn't surprised, Helga was always at least her intellectual match, but her focus on the creative pursuits of art, music, and literature kept her brilliance focused further away from the raw logic puzzles Phoebe was used to.
"And for that matter, how does this," Helga slipped the piece of paper she got from Arnold on the table in front of them, "factor into the game?"
Phoebe and Gerald leaned forward to read what was on the paper. Brainy didn't move, apparently already aware of what was written on it.
"Christmas Day. We say goodbye."
Phoebe's eyes narrowed. So, they had their time limit now. Gerald looked at Phoebe with concern. This put a lot of pressure on their plans.
Helga chewed last piece of flakey golden crust of her pie, watching the two of them with what appeared to be casual interest. Phoebe was impressed that Helga managed to so thoroughly sequester the agony she must feel thanks to that note. Yet again, Phoebe was surprised by her long time best friend.
Phoebe sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, about to spill the whole sad tale to Helga. She felt Gerald's hand on her shoulder, looking at him for some support. He wasn't even looking at her.
"Arnold's not staying here. That's when he's going back - or moving on to his next destination." Gerald didn't even have to lie, even if that wasn't the full story. Phoebe was relieved.
"So you've got about five months left." Helga pushed the empty plate away from herself. She sounded tired, weary. As if she was already done with all of this, because she saw how it ended in advance, and was merely going through the sad motions for their benefit.
"Why don't we start with a brief summary of how your meeting with Arnold went," Phoebe began. "That way, we have a baseline of where to begin."
Helga didn't seem impressed or hurried to get to her story.
"Nah, I don't think so, Phoebe."
Gerald and Phoebe looked at each other, puzzled. Brainy pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose.
"Look, Arnold's got a life now. He seems happy. He has his mom and dad and an entire continent all to himself. We can't just decide to keep him."
Gerald scowled. "Now wait just a damn minute, Pataki, you said you were in earlier. What gives?"
"Look," Helga sighed, clearly wearied. "I want him to stay. Of course I do. Arnold's like the freaking glue that kept Hillwood from flying apart. You were all here when he left. You know how everybody just tore into each other. I've never heard of a more vicious pack of sixth graders, like littlehyenas with the scent of blood."
Phoebe remembered. It was bad. Without Arnold, the ever-positive, always helpful, only-sees-the-best-in-people hero around, things got exceptionally malicious. Rhonda basically went out of control with her cruel gossip, Curly totally lost touch with reality after a nasty breakdown and moved away, and without Arnold around to keep them humble, the bullies of PS118 grew to be legitimately nasty. The examples just continued: Harold and Big Patty were full blown street-dwelling crustpunks; Sid dropped out of high school to run a pawn shop, and Stinky became his hipster artist lacky; Nadine fled Hillwood in Highschool to get away from Rhonda; Eugene gave up on acting and drama and worked in a cheesy, sketchy magic shop, disgraced and humiliated by unfortunate love affairs. And then there was the mysterious figure behind it all, whom they never caught. Their teenage years could have been significantly more peaceful and typical had Arnold been around. Yet, not a single person that knew him would begrudge his decision to stay with his parents. Least of all Helga, Phoebe knew, though she was the one most heartbroken.
"And you know what?" Helga's voice dropped into that seldom-heard level of sincerity, the rarest of jewels from a Pataki. "If he stayed, I can't tell you if there would be a single happier person on the planet than Helga Geraldine Pataki." Her voice returned to its typical level of acidic sarcasm. "But I'm not going to manipulate him like this was a game. That's not how Helga plays ball. I step up to the plate and swing like hell; if I miss, I miss."
Phoebe had to respect the Helga sitting in front of her. Nine year old Helga would have no difficulty using all manner of subterfuge and obfuscation to manipulate Arnold into staying here. But this Helga was simply different. Principled. And she would not deviate from her principles, now that she was able to find them. Clearly, a softer touch would be necessary to convince her. Phoebe was puzzling over the best approach when Gerald interrupted her woolgathering with a typical Johanssen frank and straight-to-the-point question aimed at Helga.
"Just what is my man Arnold to you, anyway, Pataki?"
Phoebe held her breath. Gerald didn't know it, but that was a dangerous question in itself. Helga was what they called in Japan a tsundere; cold and hostile to the object of their affections before they were able to warm up and become sincere in their feelings. when challenged, a textbooktsundere like Helga was extremely likely to default to the dishonest, cold aloofness and hostility as a self-defense mechanism. She watched Helga's cheeks redden, and her tall, beautiful friend become visibly flustered at the question. Phoebe braced herself for a string of sailor-withering obscenities.
She was stupefied when Helga responded in quiet, reverent sincerity: "I'm in love with him, probably." Brainy looked away, his face red.
Phoebe couldn't believe that Helga has confessed, the act was so unthinkable it forced her to totally re-evaluate their tactical positioning in their plans. If Helga was owning up to her feelings, it could only be because she felt like she had nothing left to lose.
If she felt like she had nothing left to lose, it was likely because Helga had already given up all hope on Arnold. A significant problem.
Gerald nodded at her answer. "Yeah, I mean, I figured so. After the jungle thing, I just couldn't deny the evidence anymore. Well. If you love the guy, why not tell him?" Phoebe scolded herself for getting distracted; Gerald was heading down a path that had only a closed door at the end of it; she needed to help steer Helga away from anything that seemed final.
"Let's table that question for now, Gerald," Phoebe diplomatically interrupted. Helga gave her a thankful look, clearly not comfortable with the current topic. "Instead, let's tell Helga everything that we can at this stage," she began, eyeing Gerald with purposeful significance as she carefully chose her wording. "And bring her and Brainy up to speed, so that there's no confusion or misunderstandings or anyone jumping to conclusions." Phoebe prayed that Gerald caught the emphasis on the last bit.
Helga seemed satisfied with this. "I'll listen, but I can't promise I'll do anything other than what I've already agreed to. So don't get your hopes up."
Phoebe swallowed, hesitating to begin her explanation. Hope was all she had left at this point.
"Alright, so, what do we do about Lila?" Gerald ran his fingers along Phoebe's arm idly, thrilling her flesh at the simple contact. She lost herself for just a moment in the intimate gesture. It gave her butterflies, even as they lay nearly skin-to-skin like they were.
She brought herself to address his question, though she was loathe to focus on anything other than his large hands.
"Lila Sawyer is a problem," Phoebe agreed. She had to sit up, off of Gerald, in order to focus. They had been talking and planning and enjoying each other's company for the majority of the day and well into the late night. Now three teapots in, both of them were quite tired, but had worked through almost all the possible scenarios and come to agree on almost all necessary courses of action. Where they didn't agree, Phoebe made a mental note to simply out-maneuver Gerald. Lila was one of those areas she anticipated needing to out-maneuver him.
"That's an understatement, Pheebs. Sawyer is the problem."
Phoebe bit her thumb, nodding in agreement. For all their careful planning and excellent strategies, if they didn't neutralize or otherwise segregate Lila from the equation, there were going to be complications.
"Obviously, she cannot come to the beach house," Phoebe started with the most basic, understood information. "I am unsure if her presence at the party would be deleterious to our desired effect or not; it would certainly create significant friction between Arnold and Helga. Perhaps enough to jeopardize the whole plan."
"I just can't see convincing Arnold that she can't come. Even if she hasn't lived in Hillwood in years."
Phoebe nodded. Most of the class of PS118 that moved outside of the city limits was not coming. There were exceptions; Curly was making a pointto peel away from his brokerage firm in New York to flaunt his newfound wealth, for example. But Lila had moved back to the country home she originally left when they graduated middle school. She simply hadn't been a part of their circle of friends for very long, so Gerald hadn't used his considerable influence to keep tabs on her. Now, Phoebe wished she had stressed to Gerald to keep it up, just in case. They were deeply regretting that he had not, because they knew virtually nothing of her coming and going, her life after Hillwood. And how this happened with Arnold.
"It will be difficult. I think it is important to delay reintroducing Lila to the equation as much as possible. We know we have a limited amount of time, but we don't have an exact date. It's possible that Lila will elect to stay in her hometown until we get much closer to our deadline."
Even as she said it, Phoebe knew it was wishful thinking.
"I don't know, we're being awfully careful with everything else to get sloppy here, babe."
"Obviously, if our goal is to disrupt Arnold's decision and convince him to stay in Hillwood rather than return to South America," Phoebe began slowly, working out the solution as she spoke it. "Anything that segregates Lila from Hillwood and Arnold is worth exploring. I propose that we contact her directly.."
Gerald sat up on his bed, surprise obvious on his bearded face.
"Contact her? Aren't we trying to avoid her? What good is there in dropping her a line?"
Phoebe put her hand on Gerald's knee to calm him.
"Lila Sawyer, despite all the trouble she is causing, is perhaps the precise individual that we can fully disclose the entirety of our plan to without fear of any disruption or interference." Phoebe remembered Helga's story about her confession to Lila before the Romeo and Juliet performance. Lila had been happy to step aside that time. Phoebe was confident that tendency wasn't a fluke or whim.
Gerald blinked in the darkness, looking very tired. "Huh? Now you've really lost me, Pheebs. How in the world is telling Lila Sawyer our plan for Arnold anything but disruptive?"
"Her positive, helpful nature," Phoebe began slowly, "affords us the luxury of brutal, punishing honesty. With Arnold, we need to move him around carefully to expose him bit-by-bit to the different stages of the plan. With Helga, we have to strictly segregate wholecloth entire phases until the critical moment. With Lila Sawyer, however," she turned to face Gerald squarely. "We can count on her being not only willing to allow us our attempt, but will possibly wish to assist us."
"How do you figure?" Gerald watched Phoebe, hope and confusion clear on his face.
"She will want Arnold to make his decision with perfect clarity. If we announce our intentions, the odds of her telling Arnold are very high, but the odds are just as good that she will elect to encourage the events to play out. I feel like her sense of honor and destiny are weaknesses we can exploit."
Gerald scrutinized Phoebe. She felt slightly embarrassed by the attention.
"I don't know, Pheebs, it's bold, but maybe too bold. What if she just tells Arnold everything? He'll know the whole plan and then the jig is up."
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Gerald. We are being extremely careful in all the other factors. We can afford one reckless move, as a probe. I feel we have little choice; we either proactively attack and force a move, or we wait for the executioner's axe to fall at some unknown time."
"You're crazy." Gerald was grinning.
"No, Gerald, I just play a lot of Go." Phoebe giggled at his puzzled expression. Go was one of the ways she and her father had bonded during her teenage years. It helped her connect to her Japanese roots, and helped teach her many lessons in life. She had become quite strong at the game, but had little time to indulge in the hobby once she started University.
She was especially thankful she had the background in the world's oldest, most complex board game as she worked on this plan with Gerald.
"Okay...I think this is crazy, but I'll bite. When do we tell Lila?"
"As soon as possible. The sooner we have her explicit buy-in, the sooner we can begin preparing for the rest."
"I think I'm free next weekend. I can find out where she's shacked up. We can make a trip of it."
Phoebe liked that idea very much. However, the thought of another weekend, intimately alone with Gerald, executing their exciting subterfuge together, and in all probability spending multiple evenings together bothered her somehow. Phoebe stood up from Gerald's bed. It was important they address the evening's encounters and what they meant before they planned for some quasi-romantic interlude out of state together.
"Gerald...what do you feel about this?" Phoebe was usually exceptionally articulate. When she was attempting to communicate her feelings, however, she found herself less than eloquent.
Gerald needed more information. "Huh? I feel alright, I said I would go along with the idea. I think it's too risky, but," Phoebe held a hand up, stopping him.
"No, Gerald, about us." Gerald looked at her, his mouth shutting without further comment. His face grew troubled. It had been Phoebe that suggested they separate post graduation. Gerald was less than excited about the idea, to say the least, but had been finally willing to concede that they were better off as friends than ex-lovers.
Phoebe wrung her hands together at her waist. She was suddenly very worried that Gerald thought she was easy or slutty. They weren't officially in a relationship and she had allowed-no, initiated-a physical encounter. Did he see her as an easily accessible source of physicalrelief? Had she set a precedent, in his mind, that she was available for casual encounters?
Gerald stood up from his bed, moving across his room to walk past the very anxious, very worried Phoebe Heyerdahl.
He leaned against the closed door, crossing his arms over his chest. She didn't turn to look at him, but he began to talk just the same.
"Phoebe, you are gonna have to physically move me out of the way before I let you out of here, still single and not my girl."
Phoebe whipped around, looking at Gerald with surprise and scrutiny.
"So just try it, shrimp." He flashed her his characteristic grin, and Phoebe fell onto him with enthusiasm.
This, at least, makes sense. Phoebe sighed as Gerald embraced her, lifting her off the floor.
"So that's why you're having me play this party?" Helga sounded legitimately surprised.
"Basically," Gerald's air of casual self-confidence impressed Phoebe. They had just explained every nuance of the party to Helga. They hadn't begun to explain phase two or phase three. So far, Helga seemed to be on board. She had plenty of questions, of course, but had kept her probing friendly, even.
"Alright...I'm still in. I'll go to this party, and Orphan will even play it. Hell, Briany can DJ, we'll bring the karaoke machine, whole nine yards. I'll evendress up all sexy and blow little Arnoldo's football shaped head right off." Phoebe grinned as Helga continued to offer her support.
"On two conditions." Helga put a finger on the table, tapping the surface for emphasis. "Gerald's playing bass, and I want ten minutes guaranteedalone with Arnold. Non-negotiable, no interruptions. His little note pissed me off; if football head wants to say goodbye, I'll give him a send off he'llnever forget, on my own terms."
Gerald's eyes were wide. "Me? Playing bass?"
Brainy's eyes were wide as well. "Uh...ten minutes?"
Phoebe's smile was wide. "Done, and done."
"Waitaminute, Pheebs, I didn't agree to play with them," Gerald began to protest.
"Uh...ten minutes?" Brainy continued to voice his concern.
Phoebe reached across the table, her hand extended for Helga to shake. The two boys watched helplessly as Helga confidently, firmly took Phoebe's hand, and shook it hard to seal their bargain.
Phoebe relaxed internally. The pieces were in place. All they had to do now was play the first move.