Chapter 4
Despite the recent days being uncomfortably hot the nights felt chilly. A woman sat with her shoulders covered in a quilt and a cup of hot tea between her hands. She smelled the flowery aroma as she brought her legs up against her chest on her sofa. Before she could take a sip she heard a chiming coming from her front door. She placed her cup down, gripping her quilt with one hand to make sure it didn't fall as she made her way to her window. She looked out, squinting as she adjusted her eyes to the darkness outside. She gasped when she spotted an 11 year old girl barely dressed for the cold night sitting on her front porch. She ran to her front door, swinging it open and addressing the girl in surprise. "Helga? What are you doing here?"
"Dr. Bliss…" She looked like an abandoned puppy as she looked up at her from the steps. "I was, uh…in the neighborhood."
"It's very late! What's going on?"
"I guess I…" Helga trailed off, her voice shaking from both the cold and from her current state of mind.
"It's cold out here, come in!" Dr. Bliss took off her quilt, laying it over the shivering girl. She led her inside, rubbing Helga's shoulders to add some warmth to them. "You're freezing! Helga, what on earth are you doing here at this hour?"
"I'm bothering you?"
"No! Of course not! I'm just concerned." Dr. Bliss led Helga to sit on the sofa. "Do your parents know you're here?" Helga didn't answer. "...Does anyone know you're here?" She shook her head as she shivered. "Sigh. Ok. First, let me get you something to warm you up. Would you like some hot chocolate?" She stood up to go to the kitchen but was pulled back by Helga's hand grasping her wrist.
"I need advice."
"Advice that couldn't wait until Tuesday?"
"I won't be here Tuesday." Helga's grip on her tightened.
"Well…I can reschedule to meet at the office as soon as Monday, or we can wait to talk Thursday."
"No, it'll be too late then."
"Helga, what is it? Why would it be too late?"
"I'm moving."
"...Oh, Helga." Dr. Bliss sat back down and placed a hand on Helga's. "You're moving? When?"
"Sunday." Her answers seemed to be getting shorter.
"That's very soon. Where will you be moving to?"
"Far away..." Helga had held a deadpan expression until now but she could no longer hold in her emotions. She looked down as tears started to stream down her face. She didn't make a noise and her eyes looked glazed over. This was the first time Dr. Bliss witnessed Helga's crying. In any other circumstance she would be celebrating this as a breakthrough. She might have gotten closer to Helga over the years but she was still a highly-guarded child. Despite the many conversations they shared, Helga was careful not to ever dive too deeply into her insecurities. Dr. Bliss hugged Helga to her, rubbing her back in a circular motion to sooth her.
"Helga, I'm here to listen. Not as a psychologist…but as your friend." Helga sniffled in her arms, digging her head into her shoulder. "Speak freely."
It was the middle of the night and the Pataki household was still and dark. The only sound came from the loud snoring in the master bedroom. Bob and Miriam were knocked out cold, unaware and unconcerned with anything besides themselves. Bob began to stir, then groaned at the sound of the doorbell ringing, followed by pounding at his front door. "Crimany!" Bob sat up, throwing the blanket off of him. Miriam laid next to him like a rock, not at all fazed by the noises outside. Bob took off his eye mask, rubbing his eyes and looked over at the alarm clock on his bedside table. "It's one in the freakin' morning! Damn hooligans!" Bob stood up, cracking his back then grabbed the bat that leaned against the wall by his bed. "What kind of lousy parents let their kids be out this late? I'll show them not to mess with Big Bob Pataki!" He said as he hit the baseball bat twice against his palm. He stomped his way over to his front door, swinging it open aggressively as he held the bat above his head.
"Mr. Pataki."
"Gah!" Bob dropped the bat in surprise as it landed on his head with a thud. "What the hell!" He gripped his head in pain. "What the- what's going on? What are you doing with my girl?!"
"Shhh!" She hissed. Dr. Bliss currently had Helga in her arms as the girl lay snuggled up in a blanket and her head propped against the Dr.'s shoulder. "Mr. Pataki, are you aware what time it is?"
"You're asking me that?" He continued to groan in pain.
"Your daughter came over to my house last night. Were you aware of that?"
"Ah…Yeah yeah…I'm sure she mentioned something." He mumbled sheepishly as he held out his arms for Helga. Dr. Bliss, while hesitant, carefully placed Helga in his arms.
"I'm concerned." She brushed her fingers through Helga's hair. "Mr. Pataki, your daughter is in a very sensitive time of her life. Moving far away from the only home she's known can be a lot to take in for a girl her age. I don't usually go out of my way to give the parents of my patients advice…but I suggest you take the time to sit down and talk to your daughter."
He pulled Helga away from her. "You're telling me how to raise my kid? Sheesh, you shrinks need to get off your high horses. What do we pay you for anyways?"
"I'm commissioned by the school board."
"That my tax dollars pay for! We Pataki's have managed just fine without some quack trying to get into our heads! This is just another reason-"
"I am merely offering you a professional suggestion." She interrupted, "I in no way want to tell you how to raise your child. Your relationship with your daughter is sacred. I just came here to warn you-"
"Warn me?!"
"Shhh!" She shushed him again, making him begrudgingly lower his voice.
"I know what's best for my daughter, lady. She's gonna have plenty more opportunities and live better off than she ever did in this hellhole. This place, and people like you, are what's holding her back." He hugged his daughter closer to him.
"...I don't doubt you want what's best for you daughter, Mr. Pataki. I'm not here to convince you of changing your plans. But, I implore you…please, speak to her. Listen to what she has to say." She paused, hoping he was comprehending her words. "It's not money or having nice things that makes a house a home." She looked back down at Helga then back up at Bob. "-It's the people that fill it." She said genuinely but firmly. Bob only stood there in contemplation as she turned around, walking down the steps and back to her car.
Bob's eyes followed after her as she got in then drove away. Helga began to shiver in her sleep. Bob closed the door behind them, walking quietly up the steps and to Helga's room.
"That loon actually had the gall to call you sensitive. I'm sure if you heard that you'd sock her in the chin." He placed her gently on her bed. It had been awhile since he tucked her in. He sighed heavily. "My dad never talked to me about my feelings. He was the type of man to throw you in the river and let you figure things out yourself. 'Sink or drown, kid! That's the world', he used to say. And, look at me! I turned out just fine! People like us brush things off our shoulders like it's crumbs." The bed creaked as he sat down next to Helga, looking carefully at her writhed expression. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Talking about feelings…It's not something we Patakis do. It shouldn't have to be said how we… feel. I mean, it's implied…you know? Don't you?" He brushed Helga's bangs out of her face. "You're gonna be ok, Kid." He stood up and quietly crept out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. "You'll be fine." He said to himself.
"Why the long face, Tex! You've barely touched your habanero infused gratin potatoes!"
Arnold was currently sitting for dinner at the family table, poking at his meal with his fork absentmindedly. "Sorry Grandma, I guess I'm just not that hungry."
"He doesn't want that, Pookie! It's making my eyes burn from here!" Phil grabbed the plate away from Arnold, pushing it towards Oscar who gladly dug into it.
"Eh hehehe! Thank you, grandpa!"
"I'm not your grandpa!" Phil dusted his hands off and brought his attention back to his grandson. "Anyways Shortman, I'll fix ya up something that won't give ya heartburn at your age!"
"That's ok, Grandpa. I think I'm just gonna head up to my room." He pressed his palms against the edge of the table and pushed himself away from it then he stood up to leave. Abner, his pet pig, followed after him.
"Ah! It's hot! Susie, get me some milk!"
"Oh, Oscar." Susie begrudgingly stood up and headed for the kitchen.
"Hey gramps, didn't Arnold look a little down just now?" Ernie spoke in between stuffing his face with dinner. "He looks awful."
"Yeeaah, he did look a little blue. I'm gonna go up and talk to him. Man the ship for me, will ya Pookie?"
"Aye aye, Captain!" Pookie saluted him as he made his way up the stairs and towards Arnold's room.
Arnold lay on his bed with Abner on his lap as he stared through his skylight, lost in his thoughts.
"What should I do, Abner?" He began to pet his pig to comfort himself. He didn't know what he was going to do. The answer just didn't seem so simple. On one hand, Helga worked up all the courage to ask him to meet her. Knowing Helga, that must have been a lot for her. She was obviously desperate to talk to him tomorrow. On the other hand, Gerald had a point. If Helga was going to leave, maybe it was best that she leave without anything, or anyone, holding her back. He didn't want to be the reason she had regrets.
And not only that, but Arnold was terrified. It wasn't just in anticipation for what Helga was going to say, but what he was going to say to her. He couldn't even conjure up the thought in his head. He already had a hard enough time admitting what Helga was presumably going to say to him. Deep down, he knew exactly what to expect tomorrow.
He gulped. Could an 11 year old properly handle such feelings? How would he be able to respond to her? Even now, every time he thought back to her confession on the rooftop of that FTI building his heart would race and his body would freeze up. He curled his feet as he began to remember. It was always vivid, and it played like a scene in a movie in his head. But it wasn't just the words she spoke that he remembered. He remembered the vanilla smell in the air coming off her hair. Her eyes; like a deep Neptune blue as they got closer to him. He remembered her hands clinging on to his shoulders and gripping them tight. Her warm breath as it got closer to his face. Her lips as they-
SQUEAL!
Without realizing it, Arnold was petting his pig a little too rough, causing the poor animal to yelp out. "S-sorry, Abner!" The pig snorted back in response and laid his head back on Arnold's lap. He sighed as he gripped his hand on his heart. He couldn't think back on the day without feeling like he'd have a heart attack. If a memory had such an effect on him, how would tomorrow fare?
….
A knock came at his door and it opened. "Hey Shortman!"
"H-hey, Grandpa." Arnold sat up in bed.
"Your face is all red! You coming down with something?"
"N-no! It- it's just a little hot in here." Arnold tugged at his collar twice to let the imaginary heat out of his shirt.
"Well, you were pretty quiet at dinner. Something on your mind?" Phil sat at the edge of Arnolds bed, patting the boy's leg.
"Um…" Arnold looked conflicted on what to say. "Grandpa…" He paused."- everyone sees me as the kid who is always doing the right thing. They think I'm always being selfless and doing good. But…what if they're wrong? What if…I'm not always good? and I'm actually…more selfish than they think I am?" Arnold gripped his sheets in frustration. "I know what the right decision is. But…I'm not sure if I want to make that decision. Does that…make me a bad person?"
"That's quite the philosophical dilemma!" Phil scratched his head in thought. "But you got it all wrong, Arnold!"
"I do?"
"It's not that you always do the right thing. It's that you want to do the right thing. So instead of focusing so much on what decision you should make, make the decision you want to make! Do what you always do and follow that heart of yours. If you get so focused on always doing the right thing, you'll be left wondering too much what could have been! You're only human! I'm sure you have enough Karma saved up to be a little selfish once in a while! No one says you gotta be Mr. Perfect all the time! Making mistakes and being a little selfish is human nature." Phil patted Arnolds back hard. "Plus, you're making the rest of us look bad." Phil gave Arnold a cheeky smile. Arnold smiled back.
"So…make the decision I want to make?"
"That's right."
"Even if it isn't the right one?"
"Well who says it's a right thing or a wrong thing? What exactly kind of decision are you trying to make anyways? You're not thinking of committing arson, are you?"
"Of course not."
"Stealing bread from the orphans?"
"Grandpa-"
"Framing little Timmy from down the street?"
"Who's Timmy?"
"It sounds to me, Shortman, that you've got nothing to worry about!"
"Thanks, Grandpa."
"Did that help at all?"
"I think it did." Arnold nodded to himself. He felt a little relieved by his grandpa's words but it didn't feel like he was out of the woods just yet. "I think I have a lot to think about."
"Well don't think too hard! Maybe some sleep will help you figure it out."
"...maybe. Goodnight, Grandpa."
Phil flicked off the lights, leaving only the night sky as Arnolds night light. He thought for a long time. He forced himself to think about what he was going to say only to scrap the idea over and over until he fell asleep without coming to any solid conclusion.
Helga leaned against one of the walls of her empty room as boxes were being carried out of it by strangers. She didn't care about how well or rough they handled the boxes, as they all meant very little to her. She no longer had to worry about her shrine as she retired the obsessive tradition a little less than a year ago. She had one secret left though, as she walked into her empty closet and pulled out one of the loose floorboards. There, she kept her books of many poems. She debated if she should place them in a box to take with but after thoughtful consideration she covered them back up with the board.
"Here lies Helga G Pataki. May she rest in… may she never see the light of day again." She said with a dry tone as she crossed her heart with her finger. How dramatic, she thought to herself.
"Sweetie? Are you in here?"
"Yes Miriam." Helga closed her closet door and leaned against it as she addressed her semi-coherent mother at her bedroom door.
"Oh…" Miriam walked up to Helga, bending down and reaching her hand past her and against the closet door frame as she brushed her fingers on a mark. "Look at that. You were so small." Helga looked down at where she had her hand. It was a very faded mark. Almost as insignificant as a regular scratch except for it being a little straighter and deeper. "I think only two years old." She brushed her hand up but found no more marks. "I wonder where the others are."
"Other what?"
"The other marks, silly! There should be 10!"
"I'm 11."
"Oh oh oh, 11! Of course, of course. Well, I'm sure the new house we can add plenty more!" Miriam pulled Helga into a hug but she didn't bother to hug her back. She couldn't say she had mixed emotions about it. If anything, she had none at all. Miriam let go of Helga and took on an airy tone. "On my 11th birthday me and my mother went ice skating. I still remember the shiny lights and music playing." Miriam swayed at the memory.
Helga could only remember on her birthday coming home to an empty house with only a note left on the fridge that dinner was in the microwave only for there to be a plate of jelly beans and stale french fries. She had the recliner to herself and watched wrestle-mania. The sun went down without seeing either of her parents. Olga left her a long and self-indulging message on the answering machine that she couldn't stomach to get through. She sighed heavily.
It wasn't all bad. Her mind drifted briefly as she recalled a certain football shaped headed boy at her front stoop with a bag in his hand. She managed a melancholy smile.
"Look at you, all happy for the big move! We should be happy, right?" She looked as if she was looking through Helga instead of at her. She patted Helga's head and continued to sway at the far off memory she had in her youth, humming with every step out the door. Helga sometimes wished she could be that happy, even if it wasn't real happiness. Sometimes she wished she could be far away from her body. She wanted to float up to the stars and maybe be so lucky as the many Arnold would gaze upon through his skylight window. She took out her locket around her neck and opened it up, looking intently at the picture inside.
Arnold, She thought. Outside this room, outside this city, outside this locket…who was she? Who would she be? She recalled a couple years ago when she was under the false impression that she no longer could love Arnold after taking a drink out of a fizzy concoction. How did she feel then, again? It wasn't really sad. It most certainly wasn't happy.
Empty.
She gripped her locket tightly to her chest, pressing it there as if it was her own heart. That day still haunted her. Worse than feeling pain or scared, the feeling of emptiness was no feeling at all. It was as if she was a speck floating in the wind. Living but not alive. She didn't want to go back to that.
It had to be today. It was now or never. If the world was at all forgiving it would allow her this one thing. She breathed deeply, collecting her thoughts as she stood alone in the room that reflected herself.
Sorry for the short chapter, my life has been hectic as of late but hopefully since it's calmed down I can come back to writing this out! Hope you enjoy