Hearts of Gold

1. A Kind Gesture

"Who said you could touch me!?"

It was a familiar phrase to Arnold. He heard it countless times over the years. He heard it when he would offer a helping hand after they'd turn a corner at the same time and accidentally crash into each other, something that weirdly happened quite a few times. He heard it when, filled with joy after she returned his lost hat, he couldn't stop himself from hugging her tight around her waist.

"Oh. Sorry..." Arnold stood there just inside the school lobby in front of the open doors and let his hand drop down to his side. Some kids rushed past with excitement while others walked with a slow, relaxed stride, as if time would have to wait for them. He watched Helga stomp down the steps in front of him, wondering why she snapped at him like that. Again.

The last few times he heard her say it, he felt different. Of course, it never bothered him before. Even after he found out about her true feelings in San Lorenzo, it was kind of cute for a little while. After all, he knew what she was like. She was a bully. Always had been. She was bossy and rude and obnoxious and affection never seemed to come easily to her. He used to wonder why. Now that he had an idea how she really felt about him, he winced as she said it. The more times she rejected any sort of physical contact, the worse he began to feel. Why did she keep doing this? Wasn't all this just a front? Why was she still pretending she hated him? Was she even pretending? Why hadn't things changed after San Lorenzo, when they finally ki-

"Hey Football Head, you coming or what?" Helga snarled, snapping Arnold back to reality for a moment. School was out, and he'd been standing there staring at her for...how long had it been since she smacked his hand away? "Hellooo! What the heck Paste-for-brains, do you want to stay in school all weekend!?"

"I, uh... Coming, Helga." Arnold finally walked out after her, having stood in the doorway where he tried once again to take her hand, and once again was rejected. As they started toward the bus stop, Arnold kept alternating between staring at the ground and stealing quick glances at Helga, his mind still occupied by all the questions he wanted to ask her.

"Criminy..." Helga sighed, rolling her eyes as she walked alongside him. "So, you doing anything exciting this weekend with your perfect little family?" She asked with more than a little sarcasm, but when he didn't respond she looked over at him and tilted her head. "Arnold...?"

There was a pause at first. He swallowed hard before he answered, "Yes, Helga?"

She realized he didn't even hear her stupid question. Her heart felt heavy when his eyes met hers, and for a moment time stood still and the space around them expanded into the infinity of the universe and all she wanted was to embrace her dear, sweet Arnold and squeeze him tight and apologize to him for her cruel and heartless ways and chase away the pain she'd caused and fill this moment with all the love and happiness that she knew he deserved and why did she have to be so mean and she had to change, had to be better, had to love better, had to show Arnold that she was worth it, had to-

"Hey guys!" Gerald and Phoebe walked up next to them just as the bus pulled up.

"Hey, Gerald. Hey, Phoebe." Arnold smiled and picked his head up a bit as he and Gerald did their traditional handshake. Even though he'd brightened up a little bit, Gerald still got some bad vibes coming off his main man. With Helga right there, however, he felt it best to table the subject for now. The four of them got on the bus and took their seats. As the bus took off, a few early autumn leaves leapt into the air and danced in its wake.

Arnold and Gerald sat near the front of the bus while Helga and Phoebe took their seats further back. Gerald carefully scanned the bus to see just how alone they were. Sid and Harold and Stinky were arguing about the best way to make fake blood. Chocolate Boy was loudly tearing through foil wrappers and gobbling up their sweet, sugary contents. Figuring there was enough noise and distance between them and the ladies, Gerald decided to try and get Arnold talking a little bit. "You uh... you okay, man?"

Arnold shrugged. "Yeah, I'm alright. You busy this afternoon? I was thinking maybe we could go to the arcade or something."

Gerald smirked and raised an eyebrow at this. "Really? I'm surprised you don't already have plans."

Arnold rolled his eyes. "I don't think Helga wants to hang out with me right now."

"Who said anything about Helga? If anything I thought you'd be hanging with your mom and dad."

Arnold tensed up a bit then and tried to laugh it off. "Oh, um...no, I'm not busy. Come on, let's go to the arcade and play a few rounds of Killer Instinct. I've been practicing my combos and I think I might actually beat you this time."

Gerald shook his head at that and crossed his arms. "Okay, one? The day you beat me is the day my hands fall off first. Two? You can't fool me, buddy. Spill it. Your lady giving you the cold shoulder lately?"

"I mean, honestly she's not acting any different than usual. She's the same old Helga we've known since preschool."

"So...what's bugging you? That stuff didn't bug you before. Not like this anyway."

Arnold sighed. "Why is she acting the same, Gerald? She made that video at the last minute just to help me get to San Lorenzo. She helped us escape La Sombra. And to top it all off, she's basically the one who really saved the Green Eyes and my parents! I always knew she was a good person deep down, and...and we..." His face turned red and he glanced out the window, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Gerald smirked. "Uh-huh. You did. I saw."

"So, why is she still being mean? Why won't she just...I dunno, let me hold her hand? Or buy her lunch? Or sit with her on the bus? Did I do something wrong?"

Gerald shook his head and pat his best friend on the back. "My man, you didn't do a thing. That's just Helga. So what if she's gaga over you? She's still her, you know?"

"I know that, but...Gerald I've seen that locket before. My grandpa found it, and we had it for a few days until I thought we lost it. We just didn't know whose it was. And on the FTI building, she mentioned poems and...look, all I'm saying is, I always felt like maybe we were all wrong about her, like all this time maybe she was never as bad as we thought. Now? I know we were wrong. I know for a fact that underneath all her scowling and her yelling, she's actually really kind, and caring, and way more selfless than we ever gave her credit. I just wish she'd act more like it."

Gerald raised an eyebrow. "Selfless? Helga? Helga G. Pataki?"

"Well, she never took the credit for San Lorenzo, did she? I only knew it was her who won the contest because you told me, and after she saved everyone? She just hid from everybody." He shook his head a little. "It's so weird. The Green Eyes had all those shrines of me, but she's the one who really deserves it. All I did was put all of us in danger."

Not wanting Arnold to dwell on an even more depressing subject, Gerald chuckled and tried to keep things light. "You want me to come over, help you build a shrine for Helga?" Gerald smirked and nudged him with his elbow. "Bet the arts and crafts store is still open."

"I'm serious, Gerald. I know she's a good person. I just wish she would trust me is all."

"I know, I know. You sure don't want to give Lila one more shot?"

"Gerald."

"Well alright then. Helga it is. Just try not beat yourself up. Or get beat up by Helga."

"You're a real romantic." Arnold sighed and chuckled a little, finally loosening up.

"You know it."

"A regular Casanova."

"I heard you the first time."

"Guys, I'm serious, all we have to do is mix corn syrup and red fruit punch. It's literally how they do it in the movies!" Sid proclaimed loudly. "Then we get it all over our faces and jump out at people, and they'll think we're real life zombies!"

"That's stupid! Why don't we just use ketchup!? It looks good enough and I bet it tastes better than that stuff!" Harold said even louder, crossing his arms and pouting.

Stinky shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just saying, my pa said that old movie with the fella in the nightgown used chocolate syrup and it looked just fine."

"DID SOMEBODY SAY CHOCOLATE!?"

Sid screamed as Chocolate Boy lunged over the seat in front of them, his face and hands covered in about half a dozen Mr. Fudgy candy bars. To someone with a history of superstition and paranoia, he might have looked like a ravenous, bloodthirsty zombie for just a second. As quickly as Sid screamed, however, a thud in the back of their seat shut him up and sent Chocolate Boy crawling out of sight.

"Can you morons shut up!? Criminy, you're not the only ones on the bus you know!"

Sid gulped and laughed nervously. "Sorry, Helga..."

"And by the way, if you want it to look good, you'll need water, clear corn syrup, chocolate syrup, red and blue and green food dye, and maybe a tiny bit of flour if it's too transparent. Just don't add too much blue dye or it'll look purple. Oh, and venous blood is darker than arterial blood."

The boys sat silently for a moment before they resumed their discussion. At a much lower volume.

"Idiots..." Helga felt something crumpling around by her feet and glanced down, noticing one of Chocolate Freak's torn up candy bar wrappers had slid under the seats on the floor. She kicked it under the seat in front of her and grumbled. "Stupid filthy bus..." Sensing that Helga wanted to be left alone, Phoebe had been reading a text book and listening to music on her phone, not even noticing the brief commotion that had taken place in front of them. By the way, she was not listening to Ronnie Matthews.

Helga leaned against the bus and stared out the window. It was funny, she thought, the way the town passed by out there. She hadn't noticed this before, but the sidewalk and the road beneath them seemed to zip by much faster than the houses and shops and plastic skeletons dangling from trees. Trees that were beginning to look like old quilts with multi-colored patches of red and brown and yellow among the dying green. It all went by like that. The closer any object was to her view, the faster it went. It was almost like they were riding around the edge of some giant circle.

Her trance was broken by the all too familiar feeling of an empty stomach rumbling for nourishment. She sighed and shook her head. Was she really that bored right now? She reached into her backpack without looking, feeling around to find that bag of pretzels she'd swiped from Harold during lunch. The big dumb idiot was too busy whining after he spilled his milk all over his stupid face trying to win some lame bet with the other idiots. She was lucky for it too, since all she had for lunch was an old protein shake Bob was never going to drink and one slice of cold toast she was wise enough to save from breakfast.

As she dug around in her bag, her hand felt the familiar cold metal spiral of a small pink notebook, her latest volume, and without even pulling it out to scan its contents, let alone write in it, her mind instantly went to her muse. To the boy of her dreams.

The boy in the little blue hat. The boy with the soft, smooth cornflour hair. The boy with those gorgeous green eyes, eyes she could stare into for days just to memorize their every detail. The way they began with a subtle ring of dark ocean blue, then were filled with a lush and vibrant green, a jungle she would be happy to get lost in, and then ended with a sun burst of gold around each pupil. His eyes contained a whole world, and for all her life she wanted to live there.

Now she finally had her chance. And she was blowing it.

"Helga?"

Helga gasped and spun her head around. "Criminy, don't do that!"

Phoebe tilted her head. "I just said 'Helga'... Are you feeling well? You were shivering a moment ago."

Helga sighed, the pounding in her chest subsiding as she tried to catch her breath. "Well, Pheebs, you did just give me a freaking heart attack, but otherwise I'm just peachy. It's just a little chilly, that's all." She scowled a bit and crossed her arms.

Phoebe pulled her earbuds out and put her phone away. "It's Arnold isn't it?"

Helga huffed and rolled her eyes. "Is it that obvious?"

"It's obvious to me, at least. But I'm your best friend. It's my job to notice these things."

"I guess." Helga folded her hands in her lap and rolled her thumbs around, holding her head a little lower as she glanced at her friend. "Do you think he's alright? He wasn't all...annoying and...and...you know, he wasn't his usual dumb self!"

"He did seem mildly despondent earlier. Perhaps you should talk to him."

Helga snarled. "Oh yeah, great idea Phoebe. I'll just go talk to him. I'll tell him all about the poems and the shrines and the tantric spells and the voodoo dolls. That'll cheer him up. Or maybe, here's an idea, maybe I'll just go over there and smack him upside his goofy football-shaped head and say, 'Snap out of it you whiny, doe-eyed crybaby! What's the matter, not enough rainbows and sparkles in your day today?' I'm sure he'll just love that. Yeah, that'll work. Great idea, Phoebe!" A few people on the bus turned to look at her and Helga looked around to make sure Arnold hadn't noticed before sinking in her seat with a growl.

Phoebe paused, holding her finger to her lips as she tried to choose her words carefully. "You know... You don't have to say such things if you don't want to, Helga."

Helga swallowed hard. "I know, I know! That's the thing! I don't want to, Phoebe. I really, really don't. It's just... It's hard, you know? Like, I know it's a nasty habit, but it's tough to break."

"Is it a habit because you can't stop, or because you're too scared to try?"

Helga's heart sank, but she refused to give in so easily. "Oh yeah, I'm shaking in my boots, Phoebe. Helga G. Pataki isn't scared of anything. Although I do hate rats."

"Helga."

"Disgusting little creatures. They poop everywhere and-"

"Helga..."

"-they crawl all through the walls and in our garbage and-"

"Helga!"

Helga froze for a moment and then sighed. "Sorry. Got a little carried away there."

"I'm sorry, Helga, but you were changing the subject."

Helga held her face in her hands for a moment, shaking her head. "What do I do, Phoebe? He finally noticed me, and I'm ruining it. I thought maybe he was okay, he was smirking a lot when I teased him like I usually do, but he's not smirking or giving me that look with his eyes anymore, that half-lidded gaze, and...I know it's my fault, and I don't know what to do." Helga wiped her eyes with her fingers and took a deep breath. She was not going to cry on this stupid bus.

Phoebe put her hand on her friend's shoulder, trying her best to soothe her pain. "You can do it, Helga. Just be nicer to him. He knows how you feel now, and he didn't reject you. Perhaps a kind gesture of some sort would make him feel better?"

"A kind gesture...? You mean like a gift or something?"

"It could be. However it doesn't need to be a material thi-"

"That's it! Phoebe, you're a genius!" Helga sat up then with a wide grin on her face.

Phoebe giggled a little at the compliment. "Thank you, Helga. Just try not to be too flashy or superficial."

Helga rolled her eyes at that, remembering how tough it was to shop for that sentimental little dork she happened to love so much. "Right, right, it's gotta be all mushy and gross and romantic... I'll think of something. Maybe. I hope."

"How come he gets to be Frankenstein!" Ernie shouted, tossing a bag of candy corn to the floor. "It's my turn this year, everybody agreed on it already!"

"Because he has Bride and you don't!" Mr. Hyunh shouted back. "And do not spill candy corn! You make a very big mess!"

"Dagnabbit, you listen here! This is my boy's first Halloween in ten years, and I say he gets to be Frankenstein! It's only fair, right Pookie?" Phil asked as he looked around trying to find his wife for support. At the moment she was dressed like a mad scientist and talking to a very weird plant in the corner, not even paying attention to her surroundings.

"I know you're hungry, dear, but you're going to have to wait until everyone else is gone. Wouldn't want to scare 'em now would we?" Gertie whispered loudly to her green, leafy new "pet" as she laughed maniacally. Phil rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Hey Grandpa, why can't I be Frankenstein? Suzie can be my Bride if Stella doesn't want to." A smack in the arm later, Oskar winced and held up his hands defensively, as if expecting a follow-up. "Whaaat?"

"You know what, Oskar!" Suzie said with a huff, getting up from the couch and walking away upstairs.

"Suzie, come back! You can be the Bride if you want!" Oskar almost got up to chase her, but he spotted Ernie's discarded bag of candy corn near his feet and carefully leaned down to grab it, slowly taking his seat on the couch again. After all, Ernie clearly didn't want it anymore, right? He was too busy arguing with Grandpa and Mr. Hyunh, and he did throw it away. That meant it was free for the taking, naturally.

Miles and Stella exchanged knowing glances. Miles sat far away from Oskar on the opposite end of the couch, and Stella sat on the arm next to him with one leg folded beneath her and holding her arm against the back of the couch for support.

"Looks like we're dressing up this year, honey. You going to be okay in those tall boots?" Stella asked as she tried not to laugh.

"Oh, I'll be fine. But maybe have the first aid kit ready just in case." Miles rubbed the back of his neck as he imagined how easy it would be to hurt himself trying to walk around in those things. Stella laughed and he smiled a little, but it faded as his mind started to wander.

He wasn't the young man he used to be, who had a baby boy just learning to walk and talk and get into trouble, and who could get into all kinds of trouble of his own for that matter. He wasn't the same man who leapt into rocky waters and flew across canyons and climbed up steep, unforgiving mountains and cliff sides. Ten years had passed, and in all that time all he did was sleep and hope that one day soon he would wake up. Soon turned out to be a decade. A decade not knowing where his son was or if he was okay, or how the rest of his family was coping, or what his friends were up to in his absence. So much time passed, and to him it may as well have been a long nap.

Naps don't add this many silver hairs, though. Naps don't weaken your bones and your muscles and make you count the minutes until you can sit or lie down again. Make no mistake, he loved the days when he and Stella would walk with Arnold to school, but he didn't have the heart to tell him how quickly he got sore, how quickly his whole body started to ache. It was worse when he remembered that as tough as it was for him, Stella was going through the exact same thing. So the walks to school and back were less and less, which Arnold thankfully didn't seem to mind.

Now it wasn't quite so bad thanks to a couple months of physical therapy, but knowing that he wasn't in good shape like he used to be, he couldn't help but worry that his clumsiness could get him hurt much more seriously if he wasn't careful. Or at least he worried that whatever bumps, bruises, or breaks he did acquire might take longer to heal.

Stella stared into her husband's eyes as he stared at nothing in particular, lost in thought. She could tell from the way his eyelids twitched so slightly, something most people wouldn't notice, that he was thinking of something painful.

"Hey bae. I got an idea." She nudged his shoulder gently and offered a warm smile.

Miles shook his head for a second and looked up at her with an eyebrow raised. "Did you call me 'bay' just now?"

Stella laughed. "I heard Arnold's friend say it the other day. I guess it's like babe, or baby, something like...whatever. Anyway, since Arnold's hanging with Gerald for a little while, how about you and me go for a walk? Fresh air could do you some good, and it could be fun to see all the Halloween decorations everyone's putting up. What do you say?"

"Well, um... You think we could make it a ride?" Miles asked as he shifted in his seat a little. "I'm...a little tired, honestly. For a walk, that is."

She saw through his little fib but didn't feel much like pressing it, so she leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Sure, honey."

He smiled at that. "Now see, I like honey."

"Oh yeah? It's not too late to tell your dad you'd rather be Winnie the Pooh."

"You'd rather be Oskar's bride?"

"Point taken."

They both got up then and started toward the door, grabbing their jackets and trying not to laugh as Ernie snatched his bag of candy corn back from Oskar and berated him for stealing what Oskar swore was his own identical bag of candy corn and not the one Ernie threw on the floor earlier.

"There is no way I'm being a ballerina for Halloween this year," Helga snarled. She liked pink, sure, but this thing? For one it looked too tight, and she was not about to prance up and down the street revealing all the latest developments in the real life terror that was puberty. It was also far too prissy and sweet and glittery and, you know, junk like that.

"But... But I picked it out especially for us, Baby Sister... I just... I thought if we had matching costumes, we could finally connect the way you always wanted... But you hate it! And now everything is ruined!"

Helga rolled her eyes as Olga stood there ready to start the water works, holding the stupid costume up in the air while wearing a nearly identical one herself. Surely a haunting image, Helga thought. Hauntingly pathetic.

The only problem was that Helga had already mentioned that she might need her sister's help with something important, and she was in no position to turn her down completely. Thinking fast, she thought up a way to have her Spicy Volcanic Cheezos and eat them too.

"How about this. There's this old movie I like with ballerinas in it. I'll dress up as one of the other characters, and that way we'll still kind of belong together." She was smart enough not to mention that it was a weird old horror movie, of course.

Olga sniffled and dabbed at her eyes then, her lip still trembling as she forced a smile. "Oh Helga, you really believe we belong together!? Oh you are just the best most wonderful Baby Sister I could ever ask for! I... I'm so lucky you're here, Helga! I don't know what I'd do without you! I... I..."

Helga closed her eyes and braced for impact as Olga enveloped her in another crushing embrace. She wondered for a moment if this was all some evil plan to suffocate her to death, or perhaps Olga had secretly become a pro wrestler and this was her way of practicing her big finisher. And she did have the tights now. "Blubbering Ballerina" they'd call her. Or perhaps "Sobbing Simpleton" was a better fit.

When Helga could finally breathe again and the feeling came back to her limbs, she quickly spat out an excuse to go to her room and did just that, thankful that Bob was busy on the phone and her mother was passed out on the couch again as usual. She got to her room in the back of the old Beeper Emporium and very quietly closed the door behind her, preferring not to deal with any barking from her loudmouth father of the freaking year. She would have locked the door but it didn't lock from the inside, of course, since it was basically a glorified closet. She fell back onto her lumpy old bed full of disheveled sheets and blankets and reached into her shirt, pulling her locket out and gazing at her beloved.

"Oh, Arnold, my sweet prince. My chosen one, my green-eyed savior. How I long to hold you in my arms, to feel your lips against mine once more. If only I could be the girl you so desperately wish to see in me. But no, instead I avoid you. I yell at you and push you away, as though the very love that sustains me were a cruel, twisted lie. I need to prove to you that everything you said was true, that I truly do love you more than anything in this dark and crazy world, but how? How do I convince you that I can be everything you want me to be?"

As she stared at the face on the locket, she realized just how old this picture was. Curious to see what she had for more recent photos, she set her locket down on a little table next to her bed and pulled out her phone. She went to her gallery which immediately opened on a folder labeled "Arnold".

Her eyes widened and her heart stilled as she noticed just how joyless he looked. As she scrolled through them, traveling back in time with each swipe, he was at his happiest when he was hanging out with other friends like Gerald or Stinky, but she knew his eyes well, and could read the frustration and sadness behind them. She swiped faster and faster, as if to undo the weeks of damage she'd done by repeatedly rejecting him, desperate to see him before San Lorenzo.

Then she swiped past something very different, and had to go back. She gasped when she saw it. A photo she forgot she'd taken not long after they got home from their insane jungle ordeal. There sat Arnold with his parents by the docks, enjoying a beautiful summer sunset, wind blowing in their hair. They were so happy.

She hugged herself the way she always did when no one else would.

And then it hit her. Her heart, cold and lonely just moments ago, swelled with the warmth of hope as she jumped out of her bed and ran out of her room to search the dying electronics store she called home now. She started to search every storage area, every closet, every box of old office junk she could find from the days before Bob decided to push beepers over everything else.

She just knew there had to be a photo printer around there somewhere.

Author's Note:

Hey everyone! I'm very excited to share this tale that I've concocted. I grew up watching the show, and I found myself relating to many of them. I saw parts of myself in them, in a way. Now I plan to return the favor. However, please know that I'm not just hijacking these characters just to project my own experiences onto them and rob them of their identities. This is not a story about my life. I want to remain as authentic to them as I can.

I plan for this story to be a bit of a roller coaster. There will be highs. There will be lows. Whether you enjoy angst and drama, or joy and romance, I hope to satisfy you as much as I can.

I hope you enjoy what I have in store. If you would be so kind, please share your reviews and send me your thoughts. I'm eager to hear from you!

Oh, and just call me Witty!