Peace That Passeth...

Chapter 1: The Weekend

She was sixteen-years-old. Well, sixteen-years and one-day-old. As usual, she had no big birthday celebration. There was no cake, no presents, no party poppers. There was a friend there, to share what little she had, but that barely made up for the lack.

She had every right to be bitter.

"You know, you should really come over for dinner tomorrow. We'd love to have you."

The girl said nothing in reply, just stared angrily into her mirror, frustrated with her ugly, boyish eyebrows. There was a good deal about her that remained boyish, even in high school. She had secretly hoped she would outgrow the gruffness she possessed in grade school, but to her dismay, it had done nothing but increase. Exponentially.

"Come on, Helga, it'll be fun! I mean, my mom can bake a cake, and you know my..."

"Can it."

Her friend was taken aback, but quickly recovered. She was fairly used to Helga's ways. So she sighed and continued, "Listen, Helga. You're depressed. You're only sixteen, you shouldn't have to be this upset. You should be enjoying life."

Helga said nothing. Then, just for a change, she continued to say nothing.

"I'll see you tomorrow then? Seven-ish?"

Silence. Then a loud snap. Looking down, the girl saw that Helga had just broken a pen in two.

She sighed. "Look, Helga, I'm just trying to be your friend. But you're making it really hard on me." Helga stared at her reflection, noticing a spot on her hair bow. It was a brown, splotchy kind of spot and not very attractive. She didn't mind, however, as it seemed to match the rest of her.

"I'll call you tomorrow morning. Goodnight, Helga." The girl shut the door, and her frustrated footsteps could be heard going down the stairs and outside.

Helga stood up, finally, and walked to the window. She looked with disgust at a bird, sitting just out of reach, that was singing its heart out.

"Lousy bird," she muttered, laying on her bed and doing her best to ignore the tinny sound of its voice. "You've got plenty of nerve."

The bird sang on, unabated. Finally, unable to stand it anymore, Helga stood, grabbed a shoe, and threw it as hard as she could at her tree-perched tormentor. It didn't have time to blink. With a sickening, bone-cracking thud, it hit the ground. Almost on cue, the neighbor cat strolled by and picked the thing up in its mouth, bolting immediately into the bushes with it.

"Ha!" she said with a malicious grin. "That'll teach ya."

She decided that sleeping was the best option at this point, and put on her pajamas. She then looked into the mirror again, that stupid glass devil that did its best to make her feel her inadequacies.

Picking up her journal, she sat cross-legged on her bed and began to write.

Well, what do you know, still no mention of my birthday from Miriam or Bob. I can't say I'm too surprised. I mean, they're really busy. Bob's got a beeper emporium to run, and Miriam has a lot of binge drinking to do. I totally understand. We'll just see if I'm available the next time they ask me to take out the trash.

She paused, scratching her head with the end of her pencil. Then she continued.

Phoebe wants to throw me a party herself, of course. Just her and her parents. I turned her down (in the most obvious of ways). It's depressing, I guess. I mean, she's my only friend in the world. I didn't get any phone calls from anyone else yesterday. Even she called at the last minute. Said she had been out all day, but that's a load of trash. She just must've happened to glance at her calendar, saw it was my birthday, felt guilty, and decided to call at 11:46 at night, just to salve her conscience.

"Helga, lights out! There's school tomorrow!"

Helga sighed, rolling her eyes. "Today's Saturday, Bob. There's no school on Sunday."

There was silence outside the door. Then: "Well, five more minutes, then."

She shot the door a dirty look, hoping that at least some of it would seep through and hit him in the back of the head.

Well, I've gotta wrap this up. ... I think I'm going to go out tomorrow. You know, see what's happening. I haven't been out of the house of my own free will in two weeks.

She tucked her journal and pencil neatly underneath her pillow, then crawled into bed. She was pretty tired, considering she hadn't done anything all day.

Just as she was about to drift to sleep, a thought hit her, so hard it almost made her bolt upright in bed. The prom was next Friday. That was a sobering thought. She obviously wouldn't have a date. That wasn't the point. But Arnold would. And she was, to put it mildly, extremely uncomfortable with the idea. There were a number of girls who would give their left leg to be seen at the dance with him. Though he wasn't considered the cutest boy in the 11th grade (Helga thought he was, but she was biased), he was by far the sweetest guy most people had ever met (this she agreed with).

One part of her gruffness that she had managed to overcome was the bullying toward Arnold. One might think that to be a good first step. Unfortunately, it was a step in the wrong direction. He had barely said a word to her since the 9th grade, as he had no reason to. Without a tormentor, he had begun to make many more friends, and had grown into the popularity powerhouse that he was now.

With a sigh, she resigned herself to (try to) sleep. There was nothing she could do.

...

"Good morning, Helga!" came the excited voice from the other end of the phone. "Are you coming over tonight?"

Helga rolled her eyes, but then sobered and sighed. "Yeah, I'll be there. Seven-ish, right?"

"Y-yeah! I mean, that sounds good. Well, I'll see you then, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks Phoebe."

Helga got dressed, then grabbed her sketchbook and ran downstairs. "Miriam, I'm going to the park."

There was no response, but Helga didn't care. She threw open the door and made her way to the park. She'd still be depressed, but at least she could be depressed outside of her room, and variety is the spice of life.

...

There was no reason to get up. His family didn't attend church (surprisingly few in the boarding house did), and Sunday was the perfect day to sleep in. But, for some reason, he was unable to stay in bed. He was feeling anxious. The more he thought about it, the more firm he grew in his conclusion that it was the dance he was worrying about. This would be the first dance of his high school career where the girls were responsible for asking the guys. It was nerve-wracking, as he, being the naive lad he was, wasn't aware of the fancy the local females had for him.

And with less than a week to go, he was sure he was going to be passed up. This was a big city; there were a huge number of guys available. Why should anyone ask him, of all people?

Well, in any case, he got up. It was surprisingly warm, considering it had been forecast as cloudy and chilly. With a glance out his window, he decided the forecasts weren't reliable. It was as bright and cheery as it had ever been, with no signs on the horizon of anything resembling a cloud.

It was a good day to go to the park. But should he? After all, he had offered to help Oskar babysit today. Would it be wrong for him to simply leave, considering Oskar was probably the least reliable person on the planet, less reliable than today's weather forecast?

He decided to see if Susie would be around, and if so, to have her tell Oskar that he wouldn't be able to come by. If he went to Oskar himself, there was no way he'd be able to avoid a guilt trip.

Susie was at breakfast, eating hurriedly and making a little bit of a mess. "Hey Susie," he said, sitting next to her. She smiled and passed him the cereal.

"Morning, Arnold! You're up early."

"Yeah, I thought I'd head out to the park. Is...Oskar up yet?"

"No, he's still asleep, and Gabe is, too. Why?"

Arnold chuckled slightly, then smiled back at her. "Well, could you do me a favor and tell Oskar I won't be coming by today to help him babysit?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake, did he ask you to help him again?!" she exclaimed, and Arnold couldn't tell whether she was genuinely ticked or simply joking around.

"Yeah..."

"And you agreed?" she asked, wiping her mouth on the tablecloth.

"Well, he sounded really..."

"Desperate, I know. No, that's fine, I'd prefer he learn how to take care of Gabe by himself. At least until he gets a job."

"Okay. Thanks, Susie."

"No problem, Arnold. I'll leave him a note. I'm almost late, so I've gotta go. Take care!"

"Bye."

There, that problem was taken care of. Now all he needed was a guaranteed date to the dance. That, he thought, would be a little harder to come by.

Other than the fact that he was nearly mowed down by a car on the way, he had a fairly uneventful trip to the park. The driver of said car was an angry, malicious teenager by the name of Oswald. He, like some others at school, was a little jealous of the attention given to Arnold by the ladies. And he was annoyed that Arnold never even took advantage of his good fortune.

After an angry exchange, containing dialog unprintable in this story, Oswald sped away, leaving Arnold choking on exhaust. Arnold was, as usual, confused as to just why Oswald gave him such a hard time. Naive.

It was a genuinely beautiful day. It had been awhile since Arnold had just sat outside and enjoyed a genuinely beautiful day. On the other hand, he hadn't had much time. He was the editor of the school newspaper, the head of the Prom Committee, Chief Hall Monitor, and a well-to-do after school tutor. Free time was something that Arnold treasured, though he usually ended up spending it all on doing homework. Fortunately, his work load had been extremely low that week.

He took a seat on the nearest park bench and watched some kids playing baseball. It was one of his fondest memories from his youth, playing baseball with his friends in the alley across from the boarding house. Well, before it was turned into a used car lot, that is. It was an unfortunate turn of events, but one that was easily pinned on Big Bob Pataki. He had orchestrated it, based on his hatred of all things. Sad but true.

And there, on the park bench across the pond, sat his daughter, Helga. Gosh, thought Arnold, it's been a long time since I've talked to her.

He decided to walk around and sit with her, but as he began to get up, something came over him. It was a ... it was hard to explain. It was almost like... fear. But that didn't make sense. Why on earth should he be afraid of Helga? Sure, she'd picked on him when they were younger, but that was just immaturity. And she had never hurt him physically. He decided he was just being paranoid and forced himself to walk over to her.

She had seen him coming from the very beginning. She had her sketchbook with her, and had been drawing a picture of him sitting there, looking serene like he always did. She quickly closed it, though, as he came nearer.

"Hi Helga," he said, smiling one of his winning smiles. "Can I sit here?"

"Oh, hi Arnold," she said, smiling back, though not as ... winningly. "Yeah, have a seat."

He sat down, and almost immediately they both felt the awkward tension. Arnold had no idea what it was, but Helga knew exactly what she was feeling. Here was the guy she had adored for years, sitting right next to her. True, her infatuation for him had shrunk slightly over the past year and a half of not speaking to him, but it was quickly rekindled now.

"So, what've you been up to?" she asked him, crossing her left leg over her right in what she hoped was at least a somewhat feminine manner.

He shrugged, turning to look at a duck that had just landed in the pond. "Oh, you know. School stuff. How about you?"

"You know me. Nothing extraordinary."

He didn't say anything for a moment, which of course made Helga all the more nervous. She continued, "Yeah, I mean, my life's been pretty much the same... You know, day in, day out..."

He nodded, though he was deep in thought. Finally, he turned and smiled at her again. "Oh, Happy Birthday, by the way. It was last Friday, right?"

She was dumbfounded, and understandably so. How did he know it had been her birthday? She asked him.

"Huh? Oh, Phoebe called, said that if I saw you I should wish you a happy birthday."

So that was it. He hadn't actually remembered it, he'd been reminded. A day too late, too.

"Well, thanks," she said, hiding her disappointment with another smile. "So..."

He crossed his arms and sighed. "It's really nice out here. Today, anyway. At least it didn't rain, right?"

She nodded, then realized he wasn't looking at her. "Yeah, it's nice."

Something caught his eye, and he bent over to see what it was. "Oh, is this yours?" he asked, showing her the gold ring he had just found.

It was something out of her deepest fantasies. If she could freeze just that image and keep it forever, she would be content. Arnold, offering her a ring. She shook herself, then frowned.

"No. It's nice, though."

He thought a minute, then held out his hand. "Well, why don't you hang on to it? I don't think it would look very good on me."

She took it from him, slowly, deliberately, doing her best to prolong her fantasy. Then she giggled. Not the most feminine giggle, but she was working on it.

"So, has anybody asked you to the dance yet?"

Arnold's stomach flipped. This is what he had been secretly afraid of. He'd been afraid that, if he talked to her, she would ask him to the dance. Of all the girls in school, the last person he'd want to be seen with was Helga Pataki.

He realized it didn't sound very nice of him, even to think it. But from what he knew of Helga, she wasn't just unattractive on the outside. It was her personality that everybody hated. And though he didn't know her very well anymore, he was afraid that she hadn't changed much.

Honestly, though, she wasn't exactly unattractive on the outside at all, now that he looked at her again. She could have been very pretty, if she maybe did something with her hair, tried smiling more, talking more.

"Well, I've had... a couple girls ask me so far," he lied, his face during a shade of red that he hoped wasn't too noticeable. "I don't know if I want to go with either of them, though. I havne't made up my mind."

"Oh," she replied, closing her eyes briefly. This was her chance. What was the worst that could happen? He could say no? Well, then she wouldn't be any worse off than she was now.

"Would you... you know, maybe wanna go with me? As friends, of course. I mean, I haven't hung out with you in like a year, and I thought maybe it would be a good opportunity to get reaquainted."

There, she'd said it. She was proud of herself, and Arnold was devastated. He was even more devastated because he knew what his answer was about to be.

"Well... sure, why not? You sure you wanna go with me?"

"Yes," she answered. She hoped she hadn't said it too quickly. Well, she probably had, but Arnold was looking pretty nervous himself, so she decided not to count it against herself.

"Alright then," he said. "It's a date." She nearly fainted. "I'll call you sometime this week and we can make plans and stuff."

"You mean for dinner?" she asked, hopeful yet trying not to sound so.

"Well...yeah, dinner. And stuff. Well, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Alright. Bye!" she said, then waited until he was out of sight before swooning.

Now he'd gone and done it. He didn't want to take Helga Pataki to the dance. For crying out loud, she was...she was... Helga Pataki! Nobody wanted to be caught dead with her anywhere!

His reputation would be ruined. Until now, he had never thought much about his reputation. He realized that, if he went through with this, he would be the laughing stock of the entire school.

But would it hurt her feelings to tell her that he changed his mind? She had said she just wanted to go as friends, after all.

No, he decided to go through with it. At the very least, he'd give himself a couple days to think about it. A couple days...