"I'm Helga, Dad, and I got it dyed. Why should you care?" Helga gave her father a quick scowl before walking into the kitchen for a can of soup.
"I'll tell you why I should care! I have a beeper emporium to run! How are my work associates supposed to know I mean business if my own daughter looks like some punk clown?!" Bob pounded his fist on the counter.
"Well, Bob, if your employees give you any lip you can just do what you always do: fire them." She pulled down a can of chicken noodle from the wooden cupboard and set it on the counter, then pulled out a pan from a different cupboard.
"True," he rubbed chin, "But I can't just fire all my workers, y'know! Not with this Movie-Electrics deal going on."
Helga heated the soup and walked to the living room, ignoring her father. She was about to slump into an overstuffed chair when she realised a yellow envelope had beaten her to it. "What's this?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, those are plans for the prototypes of those new phones I've been talking about. As king of Big Bob's Beepers, it's my job to check these things over to make sure they're up to my quantity! And so far, these phones are gonna be some beauties!" Bob rubbed his large hands together in greedy delight."The screens are two-hundred times clearer and the sound is ten times louder! You can download whole music videos and movies, record up to five hours of video, send videos you've recorded, send videos while you record... hey... hey, young lady, I'M TALKING TO... HEY!"
Helga walked back to the kitchen to check her soup, tired of hearing Bob rave about his stupid business deal. The soup was steaming, so she turned off the oven and pulled a spoon out from a nearby drawer. She wasn't going to bother taking using a bowl, since it would just be one more dirty to wash.
"Olga, I'm the boss around here, got it? I'm the big kahuna! The head of this family! And you are going to respect me!!" Bob yelled as he storm in the kitchen after her.
"Oh yes, my Lord, all hail the beeper king!" She spat sarcasticly as she turned around and bowed. Then she scowled as she stood up and put her hands on her hips.
"Now, that's more like it! I'm going to take the prototypes to my office, so you better not disturb me!" Bob gave the last word and left.
Helga growled as she grabbed her soup and headed for the living room again to watch t.v. On her way there, Bob was coming back and he bumped her, making her slosh some of the soup on the rug.
"Watch it, Olga!"
"I'm... Helga..." she whispered harshly under her breath and sat down in the chair, leaving the the puddle on the floor to be. She glanced at it for a moment while looking for the remote. "Let it stain. I'll clean it up later."
GERALD'S HOUSE
Gerald ran in his room with phone in hand, hoping Phoebe could forgive him for calling late. Sitting on his bed, he punched the numbers in and waited as the phone rang... and rang... and rang. He lyed on his back, trying to relax as the seconds felt like whole minutes.
"Gerald?" Phoebe's voice sounded a little tired when she finally answered. "What happened?"
"Look, I'm so, so sorry. My dad was watching Discovery Channel about tricks to use less electricity and I had to wait forever for him to go to bed. But I'm here now, and-"
"It's okay," Phoebe interupted and yawned.
"No, it's not. I shouldn't be keeping you up this late. I should've just stood up to my dad and just called you."
"Gerald, it's okay. Your father is the head of your family and you respected that without neglecting me. I'm greatful for that."
He smiled and gave the ceiling a half lidded gaze. "Hey, Phoebe?"
"Yes, Gerald?"
"Thanks for understanding."
"You're welcome."
"Sooo, Phoebe, baby, about the Cheese Festival... you still plan on going with me, right?" He said as smooth as possible.
Phoebe giggled. "Well, of course, Gerald! Why would I ever change my mind?"
Frowning, he grew nervous. 'Oh man, what can I say without looking like an idiot?' He closed his eyes until he got an idea. "Well, you always go with Helga, since you're her best friend and all... I didn't know if maybe she changed plans or not."
"No," Phoebe sighed, "She's... busy."
"What's wrong?" Gerald asked as soon as he heard the distress in Phoebe's voice. "Does it have something to do with that guy with the green hair?"
"Well... can you keep a secret for me Gerald?"
He blinked his eyes and pushed his eyebrows together, puzzled. "For you, of course." He blushed at his own words.
"Okay." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly." HelgasgoingoutwiththisguynamedJakeandI'mstressedbecauseshewontgivehimupeventhough-"
"Woah, Phoebe, slow down, I can't understand a word you're saying!"
"Sorry. It's just... I'm very loyal to Helga, just like she is to me, and I've never told anyone something so personal about her. That boy with the green hair we saw yesterday is Helga's new boyfriend. He scares me, Gerald! He... he... he smokes and I found illegal drugs in his room."
"Dang..." Gerald frowned. "Does she know?" Helga's dating choices weren't any of his business and he wanted to keep it that way, but there was definitely something weird going on.
"Yes, Gerald! He even influenced her to inhale one of those terrible cigarettes! Despite his nature, she refuses to let him go. I'm worried about what he might do to her!"
"Boy, she knows how to pick 'em, huh?" Gerald said sarcasticly, trying to lighten Phoebe's worry. An awkward moment of silence from the other end of the phone told him he'd made a mistake. "Look, I'll have my man, Fuzzy Slippers, do a check on him."
"Fuzzy... Slippers?" She sounded skeptical.
"Yeah, Fuzzy Slippers knows everything about everyone and more, and Fuzzy Slippers tells no lie. If he can tell me what I had for breakfast on any given date without even being there, he can dig up some dirt on this guy. What's his name?"
"Jake. That's all I know."
"Then that's all I need. I should have something in a day or two. Just try and hang in there. I'm here for you, 'kay?"
"Thank you, Gerald." Phoebe sounded a little more at ease..
"No need. If there is anything I can do to make you feel better, then it'd be my pleasure."
Phoebe giggled. "Oh, Gerald, you're so... so..."
"So busted." Jamie-O burst open the door to Gerald's room, holding the only other house phone in his hand.
"Jamie-O, can't I please have some privacy?" Gerald whined.
"No way, lil' bro. Wait 'til Dad hears you're using the phone after six." He ran in and jumped on the bed.
"Hey, you use the phone after six all the time and I don't tell Dad! Can't you just let it go this once?"
"The only reason you don't tell Dad, is because I know how to give the noogey from Hell. You, on the other hand, are kinda scrawny compared to me. So I'm free to let Dad know that GERALD IS USING THE PHONE!" Jamie-O yelled the last part.
"Phoebe," Gerald talked quickly into the phone, "I'll have to see you tomorrow. I need to hang up before-"
"Gerald Johannson, are you using the phone past six o'clock? You know the rules here. How long have you been on? Do you realise how much phone bills cost these days?! I'm not made out of money!" His dad stormed into the room.
"He's talking to a girl." Jamie-O added, pointing to his little brother.
"Is that so?" Mr. Johannson put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow.
"Well.. I..." Gerald scratched the back of his head nervously, forgetting Phoebe could probably hear on the other line.
"It's that one girl named... Pheeny... Phony..."
"Her name is Phoebe!" He yelled.
"Right," Jamie-O snapped his fingers, "that one girl he's had a huge crush on since fifth grade."
"Jamie-O!"
"Well, Gerald, you better tell you're little girlfriend that you'll have to talk to her tomorrow."
"Gerald has a girlfriend?" Timberly walked in the door, rubbing her eyes.
"No! I mean, maybe... I... I don't know, okay!"
"Gerald has a girlfriend! Gerald has a girlfriend!" The young girl chimed.
"Tmberly, be quiet!"
"Make me!"
At this point, Mrs. Johannson was growing impatient and, storming into the noise room, grabbed the phones out of Gerald and Jamie-O's hands. She turned one phone off and spoke into the other. "Ms. Phoebe? I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it's awfully late. Gerald should be in bed and you should too. You can call him tomorrow."
"But no later than six pm and no earlier than eight am!" Mr. Johannson spoke towards the phone."
"Goodnight."
"Moooom!" Gerald whined when as his mom hung up.
"I said, 'Goodnight', Gerald. Jamie-O and Timberly, it's your bed times too. Now get in to bed and don't come out until morning."
After everyone finally left, Mrs. Johannson turned off the light and closed the door. Gerald took a moment to think over what Phoebe possibley heard pulled his pillow over his head, groaning loudly.
PATAKI HOUSE, NEXT MORNING
Helga woke up and for once, Jake wasn't at the window. She buried her face back into her pillow, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep before he showed up. Five minutes later, she hadn't fallen back asleep and her window remained unvisited. 'He's either late or I'm early.' She thought as she rolled on her side to look at the clock. 12:09. 'He's usually here by now.' Through half-closed eyes she watched the time and waited. Ten minutes went by, and still no Jake. After fifteen minutes had gone by, Helga decided to stop waiting.
"If he's spending all day on that stupid party, I'm gonna..." She trailed off the empty threat with a yawn and finally sat up. Then she kicked her legs over the side of the bed and walked to her closet. She opened the doors to find a single red dress, along with the rest of her newest outfit, hanging solely inside. "Why that... he takes all my regular clothes, but doesn't bother to wake me up. Jerk." She pulled her over-sized sleep shirt over her head and changed into her new outfit. Then she dragged herself out of the room, wondering what the day might bring. "Yeah right."
SUNSET ARMS
"Hey, Arnold! I got those new pajamas for you!" Grandpa said cheerfully as he bursted into Arnold's room.
"Thanks, Grandpa." He mumbled as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.
"Ah, no need to." He pretended to be bashful and threw a pink bundle across the room. He grinned mischieviously as Arnold pulled it off his head, revealing "his new pajamas" as a pink night-gown, complete with lace trimming. Arnold frowned. "Just kidding!" Grandpa laughed as he revealed a second bundle, this one blue, and threw it across the room as well. "Get your caboost down stairs for breakfast, Short Man. Take your time, Grandma's gone hippy again and made soy pancakes and tofu eggs." The two grimaced and the old man left.
Arnold smiled after Grandpa closed the door behind him and playfully shook his head. 'Only at my house.' He thought and got out of bed. He stretched his muscles and yawned quietly, then walked over to his closet. He threw both new sets of pajamas in and changed into his clothes for the day, then left his room and headed downstairs.
Arnold could smell the animal-friendly concoction even before he entered the kitchen and sat down next Grandpa, his usual place.
"Here you go, Helping Sun. Now if you'll excuse me, ol' Wild Flower's got to go fight against the establishment!" Grandma scraped the last of the food onto Arnold's plate before running outside, bare-foot and screaming, "FREEDOOOOOM!" in a flowing white dress and purple sun glasses.
Grandpa put down his newspaper and crossed his legs, completely uneffected by the nearly daily routine. "You're little girlfriend called earlier."
"Lila?!" Arnold asked a little loudly.
"Yeah, she said she wanted to talk to you about some festival or other." he scratched his chin, "How are you two getting along, anyways?"
"Good, Grandpa. The Cheese Festival is only days away and I can't wait to take her!" he smiled as he shoveled a bite of soy pancake into his mouth. While both subjects of food tasted pretty strange, the pancakes were a little better than the tofu eggs.
"Well, it's good to know someone's getting some action around here, eh, Short Man?" Grandpa laughed until he saw the blank expression on his grandson's face. "You'll get it when you're older."
"Actually," Arnold swallowed his food, "Lila wants to take our relationship slow, so we have."
"Slow?" Grandpa looked confused, "How slow?"
"Hugging, holding hands.You know." He ate more of his pancakes.
"What about, eh..." He pointed to his lips as he puckered them. Arnold shook his head. "You're only supposed to go that slow at the beginning of the relationship! Unless... you did something wrong and she's mad at ya. Remember when she was going out with your weird little cousin, Arnie? She was over here every stinkin' morning! She-"
"Yes, Grandpa, I know. Gerald reminded me." Arnold groaned and stuffed more food in his mouth.
"Well, what did you do?!" Grandpa leaned closer, keeping one eye open and looking at him.
"Nothing that I know of..." He trailed off and thought, 'Maybe I did do something wrong.'
The two suddenly looked at the kitchen's door as squealing and shrieking could suddenly be heard. Abner chased one of Grandma's cats inside the house, through the kitchen, and out into the hallway. Arnold let out a small laugh as crashing could be heard, and Abner ran back into the kitchen, this time, the one being chased. He slipped on the lenolium and ended up sliding head first into the fridge. The cat ran outside, and Arnold laughed harder.
"You crazy pig!" Grandpa got out of his seat, angry, and walked into the hall to check for damage. "Abner!" He yelled.
Arnold put his plate on the floor and got out of his own seat too. The portly pig instinctively walked over and finished off the left over food, squealing in piggy delight.
"I'm going to go over to Lila's!" He called over his grandpa's cursing as he took his shoes from the closet and slipped them over his socks. Then he opened the door to find his Grandma in handcuffs standing at the other side.
"If anybody asks, Woodstock's been cancelled and the silencer's are on the fritz." she shifted her eyes left and right, then made her way down the street, screaming with her hands still cuffed together. "LOVE NOT WAR!"
Arnold rolled his eyes and left for Lila's.
PATAKI HOUSE
Helga was brushing her teeth when the phone rang. "Baw, cen you geddit?!" She yelled, but there was no answer, and the the phone continued to ring. Helga growled before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and spitting. "BOB?!" She ran down stairs and picked up the nearest reciever. "Satan speeking, who in Hell do you want?" She answered.
"Helga?" A small, familiar voice replied.
"Hey, Pheebs, what's up? The way you ran off the other day, I was wondering if you'd ever speak to me again." She said sarcasticly, despite being the who told Phoebe to leave.
"Oh, that was what I wanted... to... um, nevermind. I was wondering if, perhaps, you would mind visiting me soon. I want to talk to you about something. A couple of things, actually."
"Can't you just tell me over the phone?" Helga turned and leaned her back against the wall.
"Well... I guess I could, but I'd feel more comfortable if I could talk to you in person.
"Fine, I'll come see you. I'll be over in forty-five."
"Thank you, Helga. I'll see you later."
"Bye, Pheebs."
Helga hung up the phone and walked into the living room, where Bob lyed on the large recliner chair, a glass bottle in hand. "Bob. I need bus fair." Again there was no answer, and familiar memories flooded into her head. "Bob!" She shouted and shoved his shoulder hard.
"Make me proud, Olga. Make me proud." He drawled in a drunken stupor and relief poured over Helga.
"Where's your wallet?" She demanded, changing to anger at her father for scaring her and for mumbling one of things she resented most about her family.
"In the kitchen, Olga, leave me alone." He growled.
Helga made her way for that exact destination and found the black leather lump on the counter. She pulled out the change and five bucks for lunch, then walked to the bus stop.
JOHANNSON HOUSE
Gerald yawned as he sat in front of his computer. His door shut, windows locked, and curtains drawn as they always were when he talked to Fuzzy Slippers. He even told his parents he was going to Arnold's house, went outside, around the house, and then climbed in through his window for extra security. The routine had gotten tiring fast, but it wasn't done for his own self assurance. It was for Fuzzy Slipper's.
He rested his head on the desk in his room, his eyes fluttering shut and drool threatening to escape his lips. He had forced himself to get up early, trying to find as much information about Jake as quick as possible, just as Phoebe had asked him to. Gerald smiled as he imaged the petite Japenese girl throwing her arms around his waist and calling him a hero. He barely opened his eyes to look at the screen, which still remained blank.
"Maybe he's busy?" He groggily reasoned out-loud as he reached for the "off" button. His finger barely made contact with the hard-plastic, when a familiar 'ding' came from the speakers. Gerald removed his finger and looked up just as a window popped up, revealing a small report, along with a few mug shots.
"Holy shi..." he slowly trailed off and whistled as he quickly scanned his eyes over the report. "Drug abuse... alcohol abuse... some petty theft, fights, beats his mom, beats his girlfriends...phyciatry sessions... juvy time..." Gerald blinked any sleepiness left out of his eyes before opening them wide and continued reading out loud. "Alcoholic, abusive father committed suicide... overdosed. Like father, like son, I guess. No wonder he's Helga's type."
Gerald printed off the papers in case Phoebe wanted to see them and put them in a desk drawer. Just as he shut the computer off, his mom walked into his room with vaccuum in hand.
'Gerald, I thought you went to Arnold's?" She looked at him, puzzled
"Well, I... I came back! Yeah, he was busy. He had chores." He scratched the back of his neck and gave his mom his cheesy, winning smile.
"That's a good idea. You have some chores too. You can start by mopping the kitchen and all the bathrooms."
"But, Moooooom!' He whined.
"Don't give me that attitude. The sooner you start, the sooner you'll finish."
Gerald groaned, but there was nothing he could do. So, dragging his feet, he walked to the basement for the cleaning supplies.
HELGA
Kicking a rock as she walked down the side walk, Helga smiled, casually day-dreaming about her love. "Oh, Jake, maybe Phoebe will finally realise how much you mean to me. With your odd ways and outcastic demeanor, you dominate the world and let nothing get over you." she hooked her arm around a nearby pole and swung around a few times, enjoying a romantic sense of freedom. "So, maybe you have a few illegal addictions and maybe you want to change me a little..." she let go of the pole and made her way down the street again. "...but no one's perfect right? I mean, you're no-"
Helga suddenly crashed into a familiar person and fell backwards.
"Umph!" They let out in unison.
"Sorry." Arnold apoligized, a sliver of distant... maybe even sad... tone in it, but not enough for the average person to detect. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
For split second, Helga worried, but the care was quickly washed over with anger and she growled as Arnold routinely stood up and held out his hand. "Watch it, Football Head, you are NOT on my good list! Far from it! In fact, I should pound you in this very spot!" To prove her point, she stood up and shoved ol' Betsy in his face.
At first, Arnold looked at the fist, confused, until his eyes became wide with realisation and fear. "Helga?" He eyed her carefully. "What happened to your blonde hair? And your pink dress?"
"What do you mean, what about my-" She crossed her arms, remembering Jake's little "make-over". "So, I got a new look. You got a problem with that, Arnoldo?"
"Well, no, but... why?"
"What does it matter to you?! Maybe I wanted a new look. Maybe I wanted a change! Crimeny, can't I do anything without people questioning me?!" She threw her arms in the air and rolled her eyes.
"It's just-"
"No, Arnoldo. You shouldn't care and deep down, you don't. I didn't come here to see you, or to get back with the happy little gang. I'm not a part of that anymore. I'm not a part of you. I just came to see Phoebe. So if you dare speak to me again, EVER AGAIN, I'm going to punt your football shaped head to Norway, GET IT?!" She shouted as loud as she could.
"Sorry, Helga." Arnold walked around her, trying to settle the tiny ball of fear in his stomache. Even she didn't usually get that mad. "I'm just going to miss that pink bow of yours."
Helga watched him walk away for a moment, before shaking her head back to bully mode. Then she bent down and picked up the nearest, small rock and threw it at the back of Arnold's knee, not staying to watch him fall. "Serves him right for shrugging off Helga G. Pataki." She told herself outloud, killing any guilt that threatened to surface as she ran the rest of the way to Phoebe's house.
"Hello?" The small, Japanese girl's voice was heard from behind the door.
"It's me, Helga!" She managed to shout, out of breath..
"Oh!" Phoebe opened the door, surprised to see Helga with hot-pink hair and new clothes. "Why, you look-"
"Can it, Pheebs, I'm not going through this again."
"Pardon me?" She looked puzzled as Helga made her way through the door.
"So..." she slumped into a chair, sitting sideways, ignoring the question. "Where are your parents?"
"There out to the grocery store and will return shortly." She adjusted her glasses. "As I've already told you on the phone, there are a few things I would like to converse to you about."
"And what's that?' Helga kicked her legs, finally able to relax.
"Well... I... it's just..." She sat down next to her friend and put her hands in her lap, shyly looking at the ground.
"Out with it, Pheebs, I haven't got all day. I have a party to get to, Jake's house."
Phoebe took a large breath and straightened her back, a sign she was about to get assertive. "That's who I want to talk to you about. I really, really don't think Jake is good for you. I... I know he isn't good for you. You need to get away from him." She let out the rest of her breath and looked at Helga's face, which slowly turned to a familiar scowl.
"How do you know what I need?" She narrowed her eyes.
"He does drugs, Helga! Illegal drugs!" Phoebe's voice raised in concern.
"So?!"
"I saw his mother! She had bruises covering her body! A black eye!"
"So maybe she's clumsy?!"
"You don't get a black eye from falling down the stairs, Helga!"
"Maybe she's really clumsy?! What does this have to do with Jake?!"
"She had appeared timid about the injuries, a significate sign of abuse. She had bruises, but Jake didn't. If it were a father or boyfriend who assaulted her, why would they leave him unharmed?! Why did he show no worry for her safety?! I must conclude that Jake was the one that hit her!"
"Maybe he didn't know about the bruises yet?!" Helga nervously rubbed her arm.
"Some of the bruises were yellow around edges, which occurs when the bruises are healing." Phoebe's face showed both anger and concern.
Helga's eyes glanced franticly in all directions before finally closing, but the frustration did not leave her face. Despite all of her attempts to defend Jake, instinctive fear had risen inside her, and she was doing everything in her strength to hide it. After a moment of silence, she whispered the only thing she could think of. "He said he loves me."
"Goddamnit, Helga!" Phoebe swore, something she had never done before. "He is going to hurt you!"
Helga tightly closed her fists and clenched her teeth, trying to avoid yelling at the only friend she really had. A long, dead silence gave the room an eery chill, despite the Summer season. Neither of the two spoke or dared to look at eachother. A long while after Phoebe was sure everyone's nerves were settled, did she dare break the thick tension.
"Gerald's taking me to the Cheese Festival." She mentioned sheepishly, hoping to move to a lighter subject.
"Oh, well that's just peachy, Pheebs!" Helga burst out, flooded with sharp sarcasm. "You have the right to go out with one of the biggest losers of Hillwood and everything's fine and dandy for you, but when I find somebody I can actually talk to, someone who actually cares about me, who not only listens, but loves me, Helga fricken G. Pataki, it's an inconvience and worries you! Thanks a lot, Phoebe, what are friend's for?! Crimeny!" She stood up and stompted her way to the door.
"Helga, I'm only trying to break you up because I do care!" She shouted again, angry that her best friend would imply that their frienship was wasted, even if only in anger. "Jake's the one that doesn't care!"
"Tell it to Geraldo." Helga said through clenched teeth. "You and I are done, Heyerdahl."
Tears brimmed Phoebe's eyes as she watched Helga run out the door, past her parents.
"Konichiwa, Helga..." Mr. Heyerdahl's voice trailed off as he and his wife were shoved to the side. The two slowly walked into the house, carrying groceries, and he gave his daughter a puzzled look. "Sorry, it took so long, but the lines were slow and there was some heavy traffic on the way back... is something wrong between Helga and you?"
"Helga, who?" Phoebe squeaked and ran upstairs to her room. She fell to knees, resting her head on her bed, choking back sobs. The phone on her desk rang, causing her to flinch. The first few times she ignored it, but after realising her parents were to busy putting away groceries down stairs, she finally walked over and picked up the recievor.
"Hello?" She answered, miserabley.
"Phoebe, what's wrong?" Gerald asked, and a small piece of relief hit her.
"Hel... Helga..." She tried to say calmly.
"I got that report on Jake. I printed it off in case-"
"Forget it, Gerald." Phoebe whiped her eyes. "It doesn't matter."
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Author's Apology: ACK! I'm sorry! I'm sorry this took so long, I'm sorry this isn't my best chapter, I'm sorry I over-used the phone thing (seriously...), I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! The housing authority keeps sending inspections, we had a death in the family, my mom has to keep missing work because the housing authority keeps sending inspections, I'm trying to write this story, I'm trying to write a script for a comic I want to start running, I've school work to do, I should probably try to get a job soon, my mom's getting high blood pressure (which she can't take medication for, because of a brain thing) and that's not even halfway down the list. You know when you give a computer too many jobs to do and starts to slow down until it crashes? Then everything you do afterwords, no matter what, will always be painfully slow? That's what's happening to me. So, I'm sorry this took so long and isn't even decently good. The chapter was originally going to be longer, but I had this horrible feeling that people were getting impatient and it was already January, so I'm posting this in parts (which is why the chapter is "What are Friends for? P1" (sarcastic title)) The next part/chapter will be titled "Pretty Girl P2". Why? There's a song by a band, Sugarcult, called Pretty Girl. It's isn't my favorite song, but I've been listening to it because it fits this story and the next chapter well. "Pretty girl is suffering, while he confesses everything. Pretty soon, she'll figure out what his intentions were about. That's what you get for falling again, you can never get 'em out of your head."