A/N: HAPPY YULE!!!! *whoo that was one of ze holidays I forgot to
mention...zat good, shira?*
OH AND HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!!!!
old-soul: YAYY!!! You likes it! you really likes it!! heehee..i'm just strange..thx for reviewing! :)
Helga243: woohooo! Thx a bunch! :DD
shira: nnooOOOOo!!!! How can Hermione be w/ RON????? She TOtaLLLY Has to be w/ DRACO!!! It's THE ONLY WAY!!!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! Anyways, Happy yule!!!! Cool name!!! Thx for reviewing! I'm not clinically insane either!!! *people are heard scoffing in the background* lols.
Ditey: well thx 4 ze compliment! Now that I think 'bout it, cinderhelga makes a LOT more sense, eh? Ah wells...i think ur story would be cool, if you wrote it!!! heehee.then I'd have no more reviews..*sniff*
matchmake-t: OH happy holidays to you TOO!!!!! Arnold calls helga Cecile b/c in da second chappie, when Arnold asked for her name, she told him it was Cecile mariout...hehee...
I LUVVVV REVIEWS!!!!!!!
~*~
Fortune and Fame
Gerald read the article again. So Arnold had made it big, huh? He grinned. Well, serves him right, his heart was always so big, even after all that had happened to him. Gerald settled deeper in his chair, and brought a can of root beer to his lips. On the table was a dark red letter, inviting him to the dance. Who should he pick? Who should he bring?
His old friend had moved away when he was sixteen, Gerald hadn't seen him in...two, maybe three years. Poor guy. His grandparents had passed away, and he had taken it hard. He had flown away...following a worn out old map he had found in his father's diary. A grin flitted across Gerald's face. That boy never gave up. Over the years Gerald had always wondered what would become of the passive young man.
Now back to the problem at hand. Who was going with him? One name stood out prominently in his thoughts...but no. He had lost contact with most of the old friends from the neighborhood, her included. He knew where she lived, only a few blocks away, but he had never talked to her again, afterwards. Shaking his head sadly, Gerald stood up, and decided to go shoot some hoops on the new basketball court. It had somehow always calmed him, and was one of his two favorite sports: baseball and basketball.
He slipped on his dark red turtleneck, and a beige sports coat over that. Instinctively he stuffed a black cap on his head. With one swift glance in the mirror to see if his hair didn't look like a mop, he headed out the door, worn out orange basketball clutched tightly in the crook of his arm. He walked lightly across the park to the basketball court.
He stood in front of the hoop, and started shooting the basketball. One from half-court, the other slightly left of the penalty spot. The young man stripped off his coat and turtleneck, until he wore only a dark blue sleeveless t-shirt, and of course, his khaki cargo pants. By the time he stopped he was breathing hard, and the sun had risen high into the sky. Gerald wiped his brow, and gathering up his clothes under one arm, started to return home.
He decided to buy some bread from the bakery when his stomach rumbled. One bagel in hand, he started walking aimlessly. Suddenly he was in front of her house again. Unbidden, his eyes trailed to the window on the second story of the building. He suddenly found himself at her doorstep, and swallowed the last of the bagel. Almost in a trance, his hand rang the doorbell. He had no idea what to say, how to start, but he knew he had to apologize.
Gerald chuckled slightly as he heard the scramble of the Hyerdahls to the door, nervousness momentarily forgotten. The door slammed open and Pheobe stood in the doorway. She was wearing pajamas and her eyes squinted at the afternoon sun. Whipping out her glasses, she perched them on her nose.
"Hi-" her voice died off when she saw who it was. "Oh." Pheobe said quietly instead. The door started to close on Gerald's face.
"No, wait!" Gerald called to her. "I...Pheobe! Please, just listen...please?" He felt her hesitate at the door. "Pheobe...darn it, I don't know where to start." He stared at the slight shadow. "Uh..." he ran a hand through his curly hair. "I'm sorry. I guess that's it. I'm really sorry for everything...I never meant to hurt you, Pheebs. You were my best friend...Can I have another chance?" Gerald looked up at her. He had left out the most important part...but she didn't need to know that, right? He had screwed up any chance he would have ever gotten with her.
The silence continued treacherously.
"I...understand." Gerald cast his eyes on the ground, and slung his clothes over one shoulder. With one last glance to the silent form of Pheobe, he turned on his heel, and walked away.
~*~
Arnold stared at the picture for a moment, mind blank. His eyes trailed over the torn edges of the photo, and he suddenly noticed the heart shaped frame which ran around its perimeter. Arnold closed his eyes and combed his free hand through his hair.
He had to remember! There must be some little clue! His gaze was drawn back to its meticulous examination of the photo. Was Cecile a girl from his past? Was she the key to unlocking all his nightmares? His throat constricted with anticipation.
Did she know Helga?
Helga was the one girl who haunted all his dreams, one girl who he did not even know the face of. His friends never mentioned her, so he never got to find out. Maybe...maybe she would tell him?
Arnold groaned at the issues circulating in his mind. One thought stuck out prominently in his contemplations. He had to ask her. He had to know.
The hallway was silent, but Arnold always felt a little uneasy in hospitals. There was always that hint of sadness, that hint of regret that always lingered in the buildings. He shivered slightly, despite the warm temperature and the black wool trenchcoat around his shoulders. He hesitated at the door in the middle of opening it. Doubts started to appear.
Maybe she didn't know? Perhaps this was just a nephew, a relative? His hand gripped the picture tighter on reflex. Swallowing the anxiousness at his throat, Arnold walked inside.
She was asleep. Again Arnold was startled by her beauty. He felt slightly guilty about waking up her peaceful slumber, and sighed softly to himself. No. She had been through so much today, he didn't need to add to the pile. Walking softly on the soles of his feet, Arnold silently placed the framed picture on her bedside table. There would be plenty of time to ask her later. He noted the empty vase and smiled to himself. He would buy her a bouquet of roses. His eyes flickered back to her frail form, and he patted her hand in consolation. Right now she had to rest. Right now; he had to work. With one swift smile in parting, Arnold headed out the door, smart leather dress shoes clicking on the linoleum tiles underfoot.
~*~
Helga awoke abruptly as somebody dragged her upright by her hospital collar. Her eyelids fluttered open slightly.
"Good, the girl's awake. Get up! We don't have all day you know! Hopefully you weren't an dolt enough to tell them your name." Nora's face focused slightly in view. But Helga's attention was diverted as her broken arm was taken from it's slings and she groaned in pain. "Serves her right, this idiot." Nora said coldly. She placed a bag over her head to hide her face, and Helga blinked in the suffocating darkness.
"Wheelchair?" Helga whispered faintly as she felt herself lifted upright onto the floor.
"It won't fit through the window, now will it?" Helga's expression hardened into a death glare. She felt two hands at her waist, and was suddenly flying through the air. Her mind failed to register the danger, and Helga really didn't give a whit. The wind whistled past her arms, and the bag pressed against her face.
"Oof." She landed on something soft. She clenched her teeth as her cast collided with the ground. Surprisingly gentle hands loaded her into a car, and she heard Nora and others get inside.
"Now DRIVE!" Helga heard Nora's voice yell. She flinched, and hugged her cast arm with her other.
"Blindfold!" Nora's voice shouted again. Helga's mind stumbled over the order. Well, she was already blindfolded, so to whom were they talking to?
Her unspoken question was answered as she felt the person beside her be blindfolded. Serves them right, Helga thought drowsily. However much she forced herself to be alert, her mind kept falling asleep. With one last tired sigh, the sleepy girl succumbed to slumber.
~*~
The sun glinted off the windows of Arnold's dark crimson convertible as he leapt out of the door. He pulled his shades down over his eyes, and walked leisurely to the building doors. Glancing up, Arnold took in the nondescript whitewashed walls, and the convincing clerk at the counter. He nodded his head in appreciation.
"Jan." The young man inclined his head to the clerk, and started up the eight flights of stairs to Antonio's office. Arnold knocked on Antonio's door when he reached it, slightly out of breath.
"Come in, Arnold." A deep voice told him. Arnold walked in, and faced a large oaken desk. Behind it was the stereotypical large black leather chair, in which Antonio now swiveled around in. "What's the news?"
Arnold started to speak when the man interrupted him. Antonio was an athletic Argentinean man, with short dark brown hair falling into his face. He was in his forties, and his hair was slightly gray at the temples. He was almost Arnold surrogate father, though they had only known eachother for a year. The older man's face creased into a smile.
"Why must you always use the stairs?" Antonio grinned at Arnold. "You know there's an elevator, right?" Arnold grinned back, and slid his sunglasses over his yellow hair.
"It keeps me in shape, Antonio, and the air is fresher. Everybody knows only I use the stairs, so no crowding." Antonio shook his head slightly. It was a standing joke between them; Arnold would use the stairs, Antonio would ask him why, and Arnold would answer differently every time.
"About the case," Arnold continued, "I have tracked the Reddings." Antonio nodded. This boy could work fast. "They seem to have a girl." The older man's head tilted to the side.
"Now why would-"
"Ransom or just plain kidnapping, no doubt." Arnold answered quickly. "Antonio, I think we should do something about that." Antonio held up a hand.
"Not now, Arnold." He picked up his spectacles, rubbed them with a cleaning cloth, and looked back up at the young man in front of him. "You know the point of this case. Get close to the Reddings until they take you to their boss, Machia Vaconelli. This is one of the biggest mafia chains in order, Arnold.
"Now normally we leave the police to this, but this is more serious." Antonio paused for a moment in contemplation. "Have you heard of the Green- eyed people?" Arnold reminded himself to breathe, and nodded hastily.
"What about them?"
"Our sources indicate Machia Vaconelli have enslaved the entire nation, somehow he found them out."
"Do you think..." Arnold left it hanging, but the older man knew what he was talking about. Antonio's brow creased momentarily and he didn't answer, but continued with his briefing of the case.
"There are large deposits of oil and other metals in the area, maybe even a deposit of the legendary Green Stone. You've heard of this, correct?" Arnold nodded slowly.
"It's powers are mystical...my parents.returned it to them." Arnold shook his head to clear it. "I understand the implications of the mission, Antonio. I'll do my best to earn the Redding's trust." Antonio nodded.
"If you need any help, Turner will be standing by." Arnold inclined his head, and took it as a sign to leave.
~*~
Antonio sighed and leaned back in his leather chair. He hoped Arnold's parents were still alive, but the fates were against them. His gaze trailed over an old photo frame, and he picked it up.
He looked at it silently for a moment. The man in the photo looked exactly like him, except that he was younger.
"Eduardo, my brother, hold on."
~*~
OOOH, ze suspense, it is a growing!!! Umm.tell meh if I'm going a little over da top here, when I write, I start adding more unnecessary complications that are crazy and don't make sense...so...yeah
Anyways,
HAVE A NICE NEW YEAR!!!!!
Partay!!! Lols...
REVIEW too!!!!! :DDDDDDDDDD
-dkc
OH AND HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!!!!
old-soul: YAYY!!! You likes it! you really likes it!! heehee..i'm just strange..thx for reviewing! :)
Helga243: woohooo! Thx a bunch! :DD
shira: nnooOOOOo!!!! How can Hermione be w/ RON????? She TOtaLLLY Has to be w/ DRACO!!! It's THE ONLY WAY!!!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! Anyways, Happy yule!!!! Cool name!!! Thx for reviewing! I'm not clinically insane either!!! *people are heard scoffing in the background* lols.
Ditey: well thx 4 ze compliment! Now that I think 'bout it, cinderhelga makes a LOT more sense, eh? Ah wells...i think ur story would be cool, if you wrote it!!! heehee.then I'd have no more reviews..*sniff*
matchmake-t: OH happy holidays to you TOO!!!!! Arnold calls helga Cecile b/c in da second chappie, when Arnold asked for her name, she told him it was Cecile mariout...hehee...
I LUVVVV REVIEWS!!!!!!!
~*~
Fortune and Fame
Gerald read the article again. So Arnold had made it big, huh? He grinned. Well, serves him right, his heart was always so big, even after all that had happened to him. Gerald settled deeper in his chair, and brought a can of root beer to his lips. On the table was a dark red letter, inviting him to the dance. Who should he pick? Who should he bring?
His old friend had moved away when he was sixteen, Gerald hadn't seen him in...two, maybe three years. Poor guy. His grandparents had passed away, and he had taken it hard. He had flown away...following a worn out old map he had found in his father's diary. A grin flitted across Gerald's face. That boy never gave up. Over the years Gerald had always wondered what would become of the passive young man.
Now back to the problem at hand. Who was going with him? One name stood out prominently in his thoughts...but no. He had lost contact with most of the old friends from the neighborhood, her included. He knew where she lived, only a few blocks away, but he had never talked to her again, afterwards. Shaking his head sadly, Gerald stood up, and decided to go shoot some hoops on the new basketball court. It had somehow always calmed him, and was one of his two favorite sports: baseball and basketball.
He slipped on his dark red turtleneck, and a beige sports coat over that. Instinctively he stuffed a black cap on his head. With one swift glance in the mirror to see if his hair didn't look like a mop, he headed out the door, worn out orange basketball clutched tightly in the crook of his arm. He walked lightly across the park to the basketball court.
He stood in front of the hoop, and started shooting the basketball. One from half-court, the other slightly left of the penalty spot. The young man stripped off his coat and turtleneck, until he wore only a dark blue sleeveless t-shirt, and of course, his khaki cargo pants. By the time he stopped he was breathing hard, and the sun had risen high into the sky. Gerald wiped his brow, and gathering up his clothes under one arm, started to return home.
He decided to buy some bread from the bakery when his stomach rumbled. One bagel in hand, he started walking aimlessly. Suddenly he was in front of her house again. Unbidden, his eyes trailed to the window on the second story of the building. He suddenly found himself at her doorstep, and swallowed the last of the bagel. Almost in a trance, his hand rang the doorbell. He had no idea what to say, how to start, but he knew he had to apologize.
Gerald chuckled slightly as he heard the scramble of the Hyerdahls to the door, nervousness momentarily forgotten. The door slammed open and Pheobe stood in the doorway. She was wearing pajamas and her eyes squinted at the afternoon sun. Whipping out her glasses, she perched them on her nose.
"Hi-" her voice died off when she saw who it was. "Oh." Pheobe said quietly instead. The door started to close on Gerald's face.
"No, wait!" Gerald called to her. "I...Pheobe! Please, just listen...please?" He felt her hesitate at the door. "Pheobe...darn it, I don't know where to start." He stared at the slight shadow. "Uh..." he ran a hand through his curly hair. "I'm sorry. I guess that's it. I'm really sorry for everything...I never meant to hurt you, Pheebs. You were my best friend...Can I have another chance?" Gerald looked up at her. He had left out the most important part...but she didn't need to know that, right? He had screwed up any chance he would have ever gotten with her.
The silence continued treacherously.
"I...understand." Gerald cast his eyes on the ground, and slung his clothes over one shoulder. With one last glance to the silent form of Pheobe, he turned on his heel, and walked away.
~*~
Arnold stared at the picture for a moment, mind blank. His eyes trailed over the torn edges of the photo, and he suddenly noticed the heart shaped frame which ran around its perimeter. Arnold closed his eyes and combed his free hand through his hair.
He had to remember! There must be some little clue! His gaze was drawn back to its meticulous examination of the photo. Was Cecile a girl from his past? Was she the key to unlocking all his nightmares? His throat constricted with anticipation.
Did she know Helga?
Helga was the one girl who haunted all his dreams, one girl who he did not even know the face of. His friends never mentioned her, so he never got to find out. Maybe...maybe she would tell him?
Arnold groaned at the issues circulating in his mind. One thought stuck out prominently in his contemplations. He had to ask her. He had to know.
The hallway was silent, but Arnold always felt a little uneasy in hospitals. There was always that hint of sadness, that hint of regret that always lingered in the buildings. He shivered slightly, despite the warm temperature and the black wool trenchcoat around his shoulders. He hesitated at the door in the middle of opening it. Doubts started to appear.
Maybe she didn't know? Perhaps this was just a nephew, a relative? His hand gripped the picture tighter on reflex. Swallowing the anxiousness at his throat, Arnold walked inside.
She was asleep. Again Arnold was startled by her beauty. He felt slightly guilty about waking up her peaceful slumber, and sighed softly to himself. No. She had been through so much today, he didn't need to add to the pile. Walking softly on the soles of his feet, Arnold silently placed the framed picture on her bedside table. There would be plenty of time to ask her later. He noted the empty vase and smiled to himself. He would buy her a bouquet of roses. His eyes flickered back to her frail form, and he patted her hand in consolation. Right now she had to rest. Right now; he had to work. With one swift smile in parting, Arnold headed out the door, smart leather dress shoes clicking on the linoleum tiles underfoot.
~*~
Helga awoke abruptly as somebody dragged her upright by her hospital collar. Her eyelids fluttered open slightly.
"Good, the girl's awake. Get up! We don't have all day you know! Hopefully you weren't an dolt enough to tell them your name." Nora's face focused slightly in view. But Helga's attention was diverted as her broken arm was taken from it's slings and she groaned in pain. "Serves her right, this idiot." Nora said coldly. She placed a bag over her head to hide her face, and Helga blinked in the suffocating darkness.
"Wheelchair?" Helga whispered faintly as she felt herself lifted upright onto the floor.
"It won't fit through the window, now will it?" Helga's expression hardened into a death glare. She felt two hands at her waist, and was suddenly flying through the air. Her mind failed to register the danger, and Helga really didn't give a whit. The wind whistled past her arms, and the bag pressed against her face.
"Oof." She landed on something soft. She clenched her teeth as her cast collided with the ground. Surprisingly gentle hands loaded her into a car, and she heard Nora and others get inside.
"Now DRIVE!" Helga heard Nora's voice yell. She flinched, and hugged her cast arm with her other.
"Blindfold!" Nora's voice shouted again. Helga's mind stumbled over the order. Well, she was already blindfolded, so to whom were they talking to?
Her unspoken question was answered as she felt the person beside her be blindfolded. Serves them right, Helga thought drowsily. However much she forced herself to be alert, her mind kept falling asleep. With one last tired sigh, the sleepy girl succumbed to slumber.
~*~
The sun glinted off the windows of Arnold's dark crimson convertible as he leapt out of the door. He pulled his shades down over his eyes, and walked leisurely to the building doors. Glancing up, Arnold took in the nondescript whitewashed walls, and the convincing clerk at the counter. He nodded his head in appreciation.
"Jan." The young man inclined his head to the clerk, and started up the eight flights of stairs to Antonio's office. Arnold knocked on Antonio's door when he reached it, slightly out of breath.
"Come in, Arnold." A deep voice told him. Arnold walked in, and faced a large oaken desk. Behind it was the stereotypical large black leather chair, in which Antonio now swiveled around in. "What's the news?"
Arnold started to speak when the man interrupted him. Antonio was an athletic Argentinean man, with short dark brown hair falling into his face. He was in his forties, and his hair was slightly gray at the temples. He was almost Arnold surrogate father, though they had only known eachother for a year. The older man's face creased into a smile.
"Why must you always use the stairs?" Antonio grinned at Arnold. "You know there's an elevator, right?" Arnold grinned back, and slid his sunglasses over his yellow hair.
"It keeps me in shape, Antonio, and the air is fresher. Everybody knows only I use the stairs, so no crowding." Antonio shook his head slightly. It was a standing joke between them; Arnold would use the stairs, Antonio would ask him why, and Arnold would answer differently every time.
"About the case," Arnold continued, "I have tracked the Reddings." Antonio nodded. This boy could work fast. "They seem to have a girl." The older man's head tilted to the side.
"Now why would-"
"Ransom or just plain kidnapping, no doubt." Arnold answered quickly. "Antonio, I think we should do something about that." Antonio held up a hand.
"Not now, Arnold." He picked up his spectacles, rubbed them with a cleaning cloth, and looked back up at the young man in front of him. "You know the point of this case. Get close to the Reddings until they take you to their boss, Machia Vaconelli. This is one of the biggest mafia chains in order, Arnold.
"Now normally we leave the police to this, but this is more serious." Antonio paused for a moment in contemplation. "Have you heard of the Green- eyed people?" Arnold reminded himself to breathe, and nodded hastily.
"What about them?"
"Our sources indicate Machia Vaconelli have enslaved the entire nation, somehow he found them out."
"Do you think..." Arnold left it hanging, but the older man knew what he was talking about. Antonio's brow creased momentarily and he didn't answer, but continued with his briefing of the case.
"There are large deposits of oil and other metals in the area, maybe even a deposit of the legendary Green Stone. You've heard of this, correct?" Arnold nodded slowly.
"It's powers are mystical...my parents.returned it to them." Arnold shook his head to clear it. "I understand the implications of the mission, Antonio. I'll do my best to earn the Redding's trust." Antonio nodded.
"If you need any help, Turner will be standing by." Arnold inclined his head, and took it as a sign to leave.
~*~
Antonio sighed and leaned back in his leather chair. He hoped Arnold's parents were still alive, but the fates were against them. His gaze trailed over an old photo frame, and he picked it up.
He looked at it silently for a moment. The man in the photo looked exactly like him, except that he was younger.
"Eduardo, my brother, hold on."
~*~
OOOH, ze suspense, it is a growing!!! Umm.tell meh if I'm going a little over da top here, when I write, I start adding more unnecessary complications that are crazy and don't make sense...so...yeah
Anyways,
HAVE A NICE NEW YEAR!!!!!
Partay!!! Lols...
REVIEW too!!!!! :DDDDDDDDDD
-dkc