Chapter 3 (also from Helga's perspective)
"So where was I?" I ask the rhetorical question while I polish off my lunch.
Josh begins to respond but Helga waves him off.
"I know where I am you dinkus," Helga rebuts.
"After Arnold asked me out…"
Helga was on cloud nine. She was bursting with happiness and trying to keep it from showing. Rushing to Phoebe's locker, "Pheebs!" she whispers.
"Morning, Helga!" The short Asian girl replies. Phoebe is dressed in a teal sweater and dark slacks.
"You will literally never guess what just happened to me." Helga excitedly says.
Phoebe ponders for a moment. Due to her long-time boyfriend, Gerald, she thought she had a pretty good idea what Helga was practically bouncing off the walls in excitement about. "Did a certain blonde-haired boy ask you out?" she smoothly responds.
"YES! Wait, how did you know?" Helga asks, somewhat perplexed.
"Oh, Arnold mentioned it to Gerald a while ago that he was thinking about it. Honestly, it took all my will-power not to immediately spill the beans," Phoebe replies.
Helga then proceeds to rapidly catch Phoebe up on all the details of this morning, and the upcoming plans for the romantic evening with her prince charming. They both are delighted and then scurry off to class.
The rest of the day passes by uneventfully for both Helga and Arnold. Arnold tells Gerald he finally worked up the nerve to ask Helga out, for which Gerald gives him a hearty slap on the back. As the day nears its close at James A Garfield High School, Helga walks down the steps anticipating her walk home with Arnold. Arnold arrives and they set off, Helga with a noticeable amount more pep in her step.
Upon reaching her brownstone, Arnold waves goodbye to Helga while promising to text her later about the crazy stew his Grandma had planned. Helga enters her house and scrambles upstairs. Opening the door to her bedroom, she grabs a pink journal and furiously writes about the days monumental events.
Helga's bedroom hasn't changed much since her childhood and, secretly, she prefers this. It reminds her of happier times when she was closer to Arnold. She now mused that she would be closer to the boy of her dreams now more than ever.
Thirty pages of poems and journaling later, Helga set about her schoolwork for the day. But first, she would head downstairs to see if dinner or whatever Miriam had scrounged up was ready. As she ventured down the stairs, she noticed Big Bob was home. Great. Must have missed his noisy entrance when he arrived home.
Bob noticed his teenage daughter bounding down the stairs in a more chipper manner than usual. This immediately rubbed him the wrong way. Earlier in the day, Chet Smith of Chet's Cell Phones had met with Bob Pataki of Big Bob's Beepers for a possible acquisition of Bob's business. The beeper business had not exactly been booming and with the most recent recession, well let's just say things had been more tense than usual at the Pataki household.
"OLGA! Quit your stomping on those stairs!" Bob bellowed.
Helga was not in the mood for Bob's antics today. Not even he could ruin this.
"Oh quit your whining Bob," Helga responded as she reached the end of the stairs.
"Don't you talk back to me Olga. You best remember who it is you're talking to," Bob stated. He was not about to take some lip after the missed opportunity earlier today. No, he would have respect in his own home.
"It's Helga. HELGA. H. E. L. G. A." the fiery teenager exclaimed, "only an idiot can't remember their own daughter's name."
As soon as she had said it, she had regretted it. Not because she was wrong, but because Miriam was nowhere to be seen, probably at the store getting dinner, and she was the only one who could calm Big Bob down. You see, Bob Pataki has a notoriously short fuse that becomes even shorter when he feels his intelligence is being mocked. When Helga called him an "idiot" combined with his failed meeting earlier today, well he was just looking for an excuse to do what happened next.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY!" Bob yelled as he rose from his loveseat with speed Helga didn't know he still possessed.
"I called you an idiot, BOB!" Helga countered even though she felt this would only end poorly. She was seeing red. She was in attack mode.
"Listen here, HELGA! You better watch it! Remember who provides for your every need! SHOW ME SOME RESPECT!" Bob was now towering over Helga, at six foot five and a solid two-hundred-ninety pounds, he was intimidating to say the least.
Bob's last comment about providing for Helga's needs sent her over the edge. How dare he, she was the poster child of neglect. How dare he demand her respect when he had done little if anything to deserve it. She couldn't help herself when she fired back with, "My every need? MY EVERY NEED?! Really, Bob? If you what I call a childhood is providing for my every need then you're the BIGGEST IDIOT IN THE WORLD!"
WHAM
Helga slumped to the floor. She was in shock. Her face numb from where Big Bob had left his mark.
Immediately, Bob Pataki wished he could take it back. Especially when his daughter gave him a look he had never seen before. Fear. It was brief. Over in a flash. But she was afraid and who knows what she would do or who she would tell of his sin. It would tear this family apart. No, he couldn't let her. Had to make her understand that it would never happen again.
He wouldn't get the chance now. Helga had shook herself from her brief catatonic state and bolted out the front door. She ran straight to the one place she knew she would be safe.
Arnold had just finished his grandma's mystery stew; he texted Helga a picture of the green concoction when a heard a frantic tapping on his sky window.
Looking up, he almost fell off his chair when he saw Helga Pataki with her gray hoodie pulled over her head with a look of desperation in her eyes.
Arnold rushed up the ladder and let in a very frantic looking blonde girl.
"Helga! What are you doing here? Is everything ok?"
She instantly regretted coming, appearing needy and insane at the same time was hardly the way to any boy's heart. Surely Arnold was no different. Helga struggled to compose herself and steady her breathing before responding, "Yeah, of course. I got your text and that stew looked so good I had to come over and try it." Not her best excuse but it would have to do.
"Really, Helga? I sent that text like 5 minutes ago. What are you Usain Bolt or something?"
"Maybe I am, paste for brains! Now make with the stew. Chop, chop." Oh man, she thought. I am royally blowing it.
For all Arnold's denseness, he wouldn't bite on this one. No, he could tell something was off. For one, Helga's hoodie was pulled up suspiciously high but he thought he could see a mark on her face. Furthermore, she was avoiding eye contact and still very jittery. Something was clearly off. Arnold had heard Helga mention her strained home life before and ventured that her behavior now was related to that.
"Helga," Arnold calmly spoke as he touched her arm, "look at me."
Oh, it was disturbing how feeling Arnold's hand, even through the fabric of her hoodie, could soothe her in an instant. She didn't want to look at him, for she knew he would instantly see the red mark on her face. Big Bob had drawn blood, he backhanded her with his ring hand. Helga G Pataki was a disciplined girl, but when Arnold Shortman asked her to look at him. She'd look.
Helga slowly turned her head and looked down at her shorter companion. She heard him stifle a gasp. Then felt his other arm clasp the back of her neck and pull her into a hug. Not a bone crushing one, but soft and tender. It was at this point that Helga lost it. The tears flowed freely, and she clung to him as if he were a life raft on the raging sea that is her messed up life.
"I…I'm…..I'm…. so sorr…. sorry Arnold," she wept into his neck as he stroked her hair, "I didn't mean to bring you into this, I just had nowhere else to go." Helga's speech was barely intelligible at this point. He knew she couldn't have gone to Phoebe's house seeing as she lived on the other side of town. But deep down he felt there was another reason Helga came to him. They shared a deep connection. Always had. One that was just waking up after lying dormant for years.
Arnold guided the pair down to sit on his bed. Helga continued to quietly sob while Arnold asked, "Who did this to you, Helga?"
"…Bob," she squeaked in between tears.
He wished this answer would've surprised him more, but it didn't. What did surprise Arnold was the rage he felt building up inside him. That rage, combined with this newly discovered need to be there for Helga was confusing to say the least to Arnold. He had always cared for Helga, and he asked her out earlier today because he truly wanted to get to know her better. These feelings that were bubbling close to the surface were foreign to him. He wasn't sure yet what to make of them and would not have time to dwell on this. Helga needed him now.
"It's okay, Helga," Arnold whispered into her ear, "it's okay, he can't get you here. You're safe, you're safe with me."
"I know…" Helga said while she was melting on the inside from Arnold's closeness, "I've always known."
"What do you mean?"
Helga realized she may have revealed too much.
"I didn't want it to be this way," Helga explained with misty eyes as she moved her head from the warmth and security of Arnold's neck. She continued, "It's just that, Arnold, I have always known that I could find shelter with you. In so many ways, you've been the lighthouse for me. Guiding me home, anchoring me when I go astray. You mean more to me than you could possible know or that I could dream to express. Just know that no matter what I say or the distance I may seem to put between us, you will always be special to me."
Arnold could sense that the tall blonde would go into more detail if pressed. However, he would save that for another time. "Helga, you're special to me, too. You don't have to explain anymore right now… this has been an exhausting night for you. Let me fix you something other than stew and you can stay for the night."
Helga reluctantly nodded and let leave the safety of their embrace.
"Hey, Shortman!" Phil called out to his grandson. Phil hadn't slowed much mentally or physically in his old age. He still enjoyed giving Arnold a good ribbing.
"Hey grandpa," Arnold replied while fixing Helga a pastrami sandwich with some salt and vinegar chips.
"What was all the ruckus in your room? Got a girl up there?" Phil nudged Arnold with his elbow.
"Actually Grandpa, I do. You remember Helga Pataki?"
"Remember her? How could I forget that firecracker! Is she up there?"
"Yeah. I made her a sandwich since she didn't get dinner. Listen, I need your advice. Something bad happened to Helga at home. It's something the police could get involved in, but I don't know if it would make things worse. What should I do grandpa?"
"Geez Arnold, you gave almost no details there. You care to be a little more specific?"
"Helga's dad hit her."
Phil looked startled then said, "I always knew Big Bob was a deadbeat but I never pegged him to do that. Figures. Well to answer your question Arnold, it's really up to Helga to decide. I mean it is her life after all."
Arnold nodded, hugged his grandpa and back up the stairs.
The blonde boy took a deep breath before he entered his room. So much had transpired in a short amount of time. What did Helga mean when she said she knew she could always be safe with me. Why did everything have to be so cryptic all the time. Even more pressing, what should he do about her father. Deep down, Arnold knew she would never be comfortable going home again if she ever really was. He knew the police would need to be involved if Helga were to feel safe.
How could he have been so ignorant! He mentally chastised himself. How did he let this happen to her. Little did he know that for all the internal turmoil he was feeling, Helga was having a war with herself.
Helga was sitting on Arnold's bed. In Arnold's room. It smelled of Arnold everywhere. The boy she had essentially worshiped her whole life was downstairs making her something to eat. This should've felt so much sweeter. Which is why Helga was on the verge of tears again, not because of the still-stinging pain in her cheek from Bob. She wanted Arnold to fall for her for her. Not because he felt bad or wanted to shelter her. No, this is not what she had waited for. The tears were now freely flowing. Boy, she was feeling like a basket case now. Finally, Arnold was paying attention to her. Heck, he even asked her out this morning before any of this Bob business got in the way. Then Helga remained the elation she felt and thought there may yet be a path for her and Arnold. Maybe, Arnold did truly have feelings for her. Yes, she was willing to take that chance. She would risk anything to be with Arnold.
At that moment, Arnold coming into the room pulled Helga from her frenzied thoughts.
"I thought I remembered you liked pastrami," he said as he put the plate in front of her on the bed.
Helga couldn't help the reddish hue that was now appearing on her cheeks. "I love it." She said more to him than the sandwich.
Arnold didn't have much time to ponder that statement as Helga ravenously devoured the meal. As she finished her modest feast, she looked up at Arnold who had stayed standing watching her eat curiously.
Opting to not berate his odd behavior, Helga settled for, "Thanks, Arnold. Best sandwich I ever had."
"I'm glad you liked it," Arnold said with a smirk. "I've got some sweats and a T-shirt you can wear to bed if you want. I'll sleep on the couch and before you argue about sleeping on the bed, I won't hear any of it Helga. You're my guest."
"Well look at ole football head, bossing me around for a change. It's kind of a turn on," she winked at her roommate for the night and could see him immediately turn scarlet.
"Uhhhhhh…" Arnold was clearly not ready for that rebuttal.
"I'll go ahead and change, where's your bathroom," Helga said while chuckling to herself. Arnold pointed her in the right direction. He knew that he would need to convince her to go to the police tomorrow morning. He also knew she would likely take this less than well.
Meanwhile at the Pataki Brownstone, Big Bob was panicking. Miriam had come back and he'd fed her some yarn about Helga storming out and staying at a friend's house. Not a tough sell as this exact scenario had played out many times. What he was panicking about was knowing Helga would likely go to the police. His reputation would never survive such a hit. Big Bob still had a few powerful friends and he would need to draw upon those connections tonight. However, they would never just take his word for it. No, he would need some sort of evidence to paint his daughter as unhinged in order for this to work. Which is how Bob Pataki found himself in his youngest daughter's bedroom while Miriam made dinner downstairs. Bob had scoured her entire room and closet. Feeling desperate he slid down the back wall of the closet, and that's when he saw a space in the crawl space of the closet. He cautiously climbed the ladder and peered over the edge. Jackpot.
That's it for now. I realize that there's a lot of flashback at this point. Next chapter will wrap up the flash back and we'll really get this puppy cooking. Thanks for sticking with me so far! Please rate and review.