Author's note: Here I am!!! Still not dead, people! And no, I'm not planning on abandoning my story, so don't even mention it.

I know it's been a while, but... oh, I'll just get on with the chapter which, by the way, is more than 3,400 words long, and make excuses later.

Just three more things: 1) I dedicate this chapter to my beta... I hope you like the corrected version, Hellerick ((smiles)); 2) It's almost 1:30 am and I just finished, so if anyone finds a typo, grammar mistake or anything, excuse me. In this corrected version I did the proof reading, but then again, I'm a bit sleepy, so I might have missed a few things.

And 3) Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!, period. (Sorry, no time for a witty disclaimer... maybe next time.)

Chapter 10 — The Eventful Night Continues

You could have heard it from two blocks away. The loud burp that suddenly erupted from behind a huge garbage bin, scared a raven-haired girl half to death.

Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd was already nervous enough and she certainly didn't need Harold to express his satisfaction about the Mr. Fudgy Nutbar he just ate by letting out that enormous and rather disgusting burp.

“Harold!” she scolded him, “do you always have to be so… so… you?”

“What?” he asked, confused— not a foreign feeling for him.

“Well, you kept bugging me about how hungry you were and when I decide to give you that stupid nutbar, you eat it in one bite and make that horrible sound!” she complained in a hushed voice. “It's disgusting!”

“Aw, Rhonda… It’s not that bad” he protested in his defense.

“Yes, it is bad. And it’s even worse because I am stuck here behind a garbage bin with you!”

“Oh, give me a break. C'mon, Rhonda, you know you like me…” he said coyly, rubbing his left arm on her right one.

She snorted, “What in the world would make you think such nonsense?”

“You know, that time at the Cheese—”

“Shut up!” she whispered angrily, covering his big mouth. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop talking about that?” she scowled at him.

A few seconds passed by and neither of them talked. Sitting behind the bin, they just did as they had been told and waited for any signs of danger, ready to alert Brainy (who was standing on top of the Circle Theater) or Phoebe and Gerald (waiting next to the building for Arnold), if they saw anything ‘unusual’.

Sheena, Nadine, Lila, Sid, Stinky and Eugene were taking turns to walk, in groups of two or three, from one corner of the street to the other. Curious neighbors couldn’t tell them anything for just being walking back and forth and if the kidnappers went out and saw them, they would just say that they were a few innocent children going back home after a movie or something. Surely there was nothing wrong with that.

But, as Gerald pointed out, it would be wise to have a few kids hidden in some ‘key places’, and so, Rhonda and Harold were hidden behind the garbage bin. Watching. Spying.

“I can’t believe this” Rhonda suddenly whispered, apparently to herself. “How did I let this happen?”

“What are you talking about?” Harold raised one side of his eyebrow, looking questioningly at her.

Her eyes swept the boy’s big frame with a half-lidded gaze that undoubtedly expressed all the annoyance she was feeling. “I just can’t believe they tricked me into coming here and then into hiding behind this smelly garbage bin… all the more with you of all people!”

“Huh?” he blinked.

“Besides”, she added after a brief and silent moment “you're making too much noise… do you want us to get caught?”

That simple sentence seemed to make Harold completely aware of the danger they were in. He let out a strange noise, something like a strangled squeal.

“Harold!” Rhonda scowled at him. “Will you just stop making noise?”

He nodded slowly, stealing a glance over the garbage bin, toward the other side of the street, where the building stood, old and magnificent amongst the darkness of the street. Shattered windows decorated its front and gave it the look of an abandoned manor.

“What’s the matter with you?” Rhonda asked Harold when she realized there was something wrong with her “partner”, he looked… scared?

While he ate his Mr. Fudgy Nutbar, he was oblivious to the fact that their ‘little mission’ was plagued with risks, but now… well, he was starting to have second thoughts on the subject.

“N-No-Nothing” he stuttered. “I’m o-okay.”

“Harold, are you afraid?” she half-sneered.

“N-No, not at all… I am not afraid” he said, not sounding in the least bit convincing.

She just raised a brow in amusement.

“I ain’t a coward… But I know we’ll get caught…!” his eyes widened slightly as he whispered the last part to himself. Rhonda rolled her eyes and shook her head disapprovingly.

“You truly are pathetic” she declared with a look of utmost annoyance plastered on her face.

“Do you know what you look like when you’re frowning like that?” he asked.

“Do tell” she whispered vaguely, as she examined her perfect manicure with a bored expression.

“Helga!” he whispered, confused and still looking at the Circle Theater.

“How dare you!” she shrieked as she stood up looking utterly outraged.

“No, look!” he exclaimed wide-eyed and pointed toward a side alley across the street.

When Rhonda saw the blonde girl in a pink dress, she used all her willpower to keep herself from screaming in surprise.

• • • • •

Shocked beyond words, Gerald and Phoebe watched as Helga appeared just before their eyes.

“Helga?” Phoebe called her, while Gerald kept looking at the air conditioning duct from where she had emerged a few seconds ago as though he was expecting something more… or someone else.

“Where's Arnold?” Gerald asked concerned and Phoebe turned around to see him.

“I don't know…” she said looking from Gerald to the duct. “Helga, where's Arnold?” Phoebe asked, still looking at the duct.

Big mistake. The moment they took their eyes off Helga, she disappeared again, leaving behind her a small plastic bag.

Getting no response from her friend, Phoebe turned around to ask what had happened, but the words died in her throat as she realized Helga wasn’t there anymore.

“Where did she go?” Gerald frowned.

Phoebe looked down, suddenly acknowledging something that was lying on the floor: an empty bag of pork rinds. “I don't know, but I think I do have a hint” the Asian girl stated worriedly, with a sense of dejávú, knowing full well that there’d be trouble.

But “trouble” didn't even start to describe what was coming next.

• • • • •

“Oh my God!” Rhonda exclaimed. “Harold, that's Helga!”

“I know!” he replied sounding just as surprised as she was. “What should we do? Is it over?”

“No, we have to wait for Phoebe, Gerald and Arnold” Rhonda paused for a moment to look carefully at the pink-clad girl who was coming out of the side alley. “Don’t you think she looks quite… er… weird?”

“Yeah… she does…”

“Look! Phoebe and Gerald are over there… but where’s Arnold?” Rhonda frowned as she took out a small flashlight. “I gotta find out what’s going on” she said determinedly, handing him the flashlight. “You wait here” and, with that, she ran to catch up with the trio, who was nearly at the corner by then.

Harold stood alone a few seconds, forcing his mind to process what had just happened. Rhonda had just left him behind with nothing more than a crappy flashlight that wouldn’t turn on. He felt his legs shaking slightly and drew a deep breath to try to steady himself.

A cat wailing was heard and the spooky sound echoed in every corner of the dark street, making the hair on Harold’s neck stand up. He looked around nervously, as though he was expecting a huge monster to come out and eat him alive.

Gulp. Squeal.

“Rhonda… wait for me…!” he yelled coming out from behind the garbage bin.

• • • • •

Still wide-eyed and very surprised, Gerald and Phoebe followed Helga, trying to get her attention, but to no avail.

“Helga, wait!” Phoebe called in a hushed voice. She was too worried about Arnold, but she knew Helga’s sleepwalks wouldn’t bring anything good.

“What’s wrong with her?” Gerald asked still running.

“She sleepwalks” Phoebe explained. “When she eats pork rinds, she tends to be affected by the nutritional composition of them, which derives in a sleeping disorder.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Unfortunately for us, she’s very fast while sleepwalking!”

Gerald merely nodded.

“Hey, wait!” they heard a voice calling and turned around to find a breathless Rhonda trying to catch up with them, closely followed by Harold.

“They must want an explanation” Gerald guessed.

“I shall agree with you.”

“Phoebe!” Rhonda called.

“Phoebe, go with them. I’ll get Helga and bring her back” he said without stopping.

Phoebe didn’t like that idea at all and she tried to protest, but before she even opened her mouth to speak, Rhonda caught up with them.

“What happened? Where’s Arnold?” she asked as Harold approached them, too.

“Go back, we’ll explain later” Gerald said without looking at his friends.

Rhonda narrowed her eyes at him. “Tell us what happened!” she demanded.

“Argh! Don’t know!” Gerald rolled his eyes, wishing they’d just stay where they were supposed to. “Go back!”

“No way!” Rhonda shook her head, grabbed Phoebe’s wrist tightly and stopped her.

Both boys noticed. Gerald stopped and turned to snap something at Rhonda, but Harold seemed to decide that it was a good time to play “follow the leader” and grabbed Gerald’s arm, just like Rhonda grabbed Phoebe’s.

“Hey!” he protested. “Let go, Harold!”

“Phoebe, what happened?” Rhonda asked, ignoring Gerald.

“I’m not sure” she said, trying to free her hand from Rhonda’s grip. “Please, Rhonda, we have to bring Helga back!” Then she clumsily stuttered an explanation about the way pork rinds affected her best friend, causing her to sleepwalk.

“Oh, please!” Rhonda snorted, disbelief evident in her face. “This is all a prank! I was right!”

“No! It isn’t!” Phoebe argued.

“Yes, it is… and you two are part of it!”

Phoebe and Rhonda glared at each other. Gerald and Harold, on the other hand, were busy fighting, and so, they were unable to speak. Let alone agree or disagree with any of the girls.

Then, with a rather strange and quick movement, Gerald pushed Harold away and started to run.

“Ouch!” Harold complained from the floor.

“Gerald!” Phoebe called.

“I’ll bring Helga back, you find out what happened to Arnold!” he shouted back.

This isn’t good, Phoebe told herself wryly.

“What happened, Phoebe?” Rhonda insisted, sending a killer look in Harold’s direction.

“I really don’t know” she replied. “Helga came out, sleepwalking, but he didn’t…” she trailed off, realization dawning on her. “He’s trapped inside the Theater!”

“Really?” Rhonda rolled her eyes. “Now what are we going to do?”

“This isn’t a joke, Rhonda” Phoebe declared fiercely, finally snatching her arm from the dark-haired girl. “Let’s go back there, we have to come up with a new plan.”

• • • • •

Brainy had told Arnold to be very careful with that heavy door, because it would only open from the outside.

Arnold took a deep breath as he pushed the door open, unsure of what to expect. Would Helga throw something at him and ask what the heck is he doing there? Would she be too afraid to do so? No, if there was something he admired from Helga, it was her bravery. He didn’t think he’d find her hugging her knees and sobbing uncontrollably.

Would she be thankful that he was there? Would she say that she had it all under control and she certainly didn’t need a “stupid football head” to help her?

He sighed quietly and took a step into the dark room. He expected the sound of his footsteps, the door opening or the small amount of light coming through it would alert Helga of his presence, but nothing moved inside the room and it was completely quiet.

“Helga?” he called tentatively. No response. He frowned and took another step forward.

He took out a flashlight, but dropped it accidentally. He bent down to pick it up, but he made a fatal mistake: he let go of the door and it closed immediately with a small thud.

“No!” he shrieked as he made a useless attempt to open it. “Great!” he said, sarcastic.

Then he turned on the flashlight and started to look for Helga, thinking she might be asleep, and that’d be why she hadn’t heard him.

“Helga?” he called again as fear started to grip him. Where could she be?

• • • • •

Gerald ran as fast as he could, but Helga was extremely fast. Not to mention Rhonda and Harold hadn’t been too helpful.

He kept on running until he spotted something pink turning around one corner. Helga was still a few feet ahead of him, but her voice was clearly heard from such distance and Gerald could make out everything she was murmuring.

“It’s time for you to open up your eyes” she was saying. “I’ve been here all along, don’t you see?”

What in the name of God was she talking about?

“You know that is all a façade. In reality, I’m not that cold and uncaring… But you’re the only one who can see past my rough exterior and into my sweet heart.”

Sweet heart? Helga? Ha! Don’t make laugh!, he thought, snorting. He didn’t know exactly how it happened, but in that moment, he clumsily tripped over something and fell backwards.

Mentally cursing himself and the soda can he had tripped over, he hastily stood up and resumed chasing Helga, but she, of course, hadn’t stopped her walk, so she was now out of reach, again. She turned around the corner and he hit the air in frustration, running as fast as he could to catch up with her.

A few familiar buildings stood silent in the darkness and Gerald realized he was less than one block away from Arnold’s house, but why the heck would a sleepwalking Helga want to come here? He shrugged, deciding this was not the time to try to get conclusions. He needed to wake her up and ask her what the heck had happened with his best friend.

It was then that he saw her entering Arnold’s house.

How had she managed to open the door? He’d never know. His eyes only caught a glimpse of her dirty pink dress and his brain started to think up ways to enter the boarding house without being noticed. He just didn’t feel like giving away explanations.

He supposed that by this time, the Sunset Arms would be deserted, with all the boarders fast asleep in their bedrooms, but he was wrong. The moment he managed to sneak inside the place (using Abner’s door), he saw a pair of feet exiting the kitchen. I must be careful, he told himself as he stood up and dust off his clothes.

Then a thought crossed his mind: those feet could’ve been Helga’s. He went upstairs, following the sound of footsteps.

When he heard a faint humming, he realized that it wasn’t Helga, after all. He turned around to leave, but a voice made him stop.

“Hello, Mr. Hopkins” Arnold’s grandmother greeted “if you need to see Franklin, I am sorry to say that he isn’t here at the moment.”

Gerald blinked. Mr. Hopkins?

“However, Eleanor is here. Would you, perhaps, want to talk to her?”

He knew Arnold’s Grandma was er… a peculiar woman, but he had no idea what was she talking about. He didn’t have time to understand what she was saying, though, so he just nodded.

“Very well, you shall find Eleanor in the basement” she pointed to the stairs and he assumed Eleanor must be some sort of nickname for Helga. At least he hoped it was.

“Thanks” he said and rushed downstairs.

“And that part of me still remains unknown to you. You don’t know my secret!” he heard a girl’s voice coming from the basement.

In spite of himself, he felt very curious about Helga’s secret, so he listened carefully to her rants on his way toward the basement.

“You’ve never known about the shrines I’ve build, the poetry I’ve written, and the stalking… I’ve done all those things for you, my angel!”

Whoa! Helga Pataki was in love? Who would’ve thought!

And she was obsessed enough to build shrines and write poetry? Not to mention to stalk a poor unsuspecting boy. He was feeling really sorry for that unfortunate boy.

He descended the last few steps to be met by one of the most astonishing and bizarre scenes he had witnessed in his short life: Helga was doing Arnold’s laundry. But not only that… She also was… No, she couldn’t be.

He rubbed his eyes. I must be having hallucinations, he told himself.

• • • • •

Helga was walking determinedly to where she knew her one true love awaited. Or so she thought.

This time, she was going to confess for good. No one and nothing would get in her way. Not even her pride, her fear. Nothing.

Although everything around her seemed quite surreal, she recognized the houses and buildings and knew there were only a few feet between her and her heavenly handsome football head.

She knocked on the door and some old woman (she wasn’t quite sure who it was) opened it and let her in, greeting her happily.

“Eleanor!” she said. “What a pleasure to have you here today!”

Helga smiled warmly.

“I was just about to do the laundry” the woman informed, “would you like to help me doing Franklin’s?”

The smile still plastered on her lips, Helga nodded. Doing laundry sounded just like fun! Maybe when Franklin Roosevelt came back home, he’d see that his Eleanor could be a great housewife.

She took the basket that was lying on the floor, next to the old lady and took it downstairs.

Once in the basement, she started to toss the clothes into the washer. She poured some soap, pressed a few buttons and then moved on to a dryer, where there were more clothes.

When she opened the door, the first thing she saw, were the blue pajamas with little bears on them. She sighed, smiling tenderly at them.

She took the soft fabric in her hands and inhaled their smell. True, they had just been washed, but despite the soap, they still smelled like Arnold.

Hugging them tightly, as thought it was Arnold (or Franklin) she was holding, she started to sing and dance with the baby blue PJ’s.

When the rumba rhythm starts to play,
dance with me, make me sway.
Like a flower bending in the breeze,
sway with me, stay with me.

• • • • •

No way.

Helga just couldn’t be doing what she was doing. This couldn’t be the fourth grade bully. It just couldn’t be.

And that song…! What was the matter with her?

Then it hit him: Arnold was that “poor unsuspecting boy”! Why else would she be here, in his house, doing his laundry and, more importantly, dancing with his pajamas!

But, just in case he still had any doubts, Helga’s next words completely wiped them off.

“Oh, Arnold! When will I ever get to voice my true feelings for you? When will the mask of fear be left behind so I can be free to call you mine?”

Gerald was sure he was getting paler by the minute, but he tried to keep his cool and tapped Helga lightly on the shoulder.

And she kept on ranting.

He tapped again. Harder this time, and he called her name.

“I love you, Arnold!” she declared passionately and let out a huge sigh.

“Helga! Wake up!”

• • • • •

Just when she was folding Franklin’s dry shirts, Eleanor, saw him. This is it, she told herself, this is the best moment to tell him how I feel!

“Helga!” she heard a voice that seemed far, far away and she groaned. Why did someone have to interrupt her now? And who was Helga?

Oh! I guess that’d be me, she realized. And Franklin is my Arnold…

She sighed and resumed her speech. She was just about to confess her love for Arnold and then… that voice called her again.

She couldn’t make out who it was, but the voice insisted and her usual scowl, gone while she thought of Arnold, came back to her face.

“Helga, wake up!” the annoying voice said and she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She was just about to snap at whoever was interrupting her at this crucial moment, but then she took notice of something. The voice had said “wake up”.

Does that mean I am… dreaming?

She felt her surreal world melting away and a dimly illuminated room appeared instead before her opened eyes, which grew until they reached the size of big saucers. Her heart starting to pound faster and faster, she slowly turned around to see who that voice belonged to.

And shock set in.

Where to start? Oh, where to start?

My dear readers... I truly am sorry about the ridiculously long waiting. I'm going nuts with everything I've been up to lately. I can't promise you an update shortly, but I can assure you that I'll do what I can to bring you chapter eleven soon.

One of the reasons why I put this story in hiatus for a while is Lyrics of Arnold. If you've visited DeepVoice06's profile or read one of her newest stories, you might now what I'm talking about, otherwise, let me tell you a bit: Lyrics of Arnold is a new fansite, dedicated to the making of "muspisodes" which are music videos for single episodes. They're really good, by the way!
If you want to find out more, visit lyricsofarnold (dot) co (dot) nr.

Speaking of music, the song included in this chapter... well, I don't know who sings it or where exactly did it come from, but Hellerick saw it in one of Pottergal's stories (I think I've seen it, too) and he thought it was perfect for this scene. I agreed. It's just funny to picture Helga singing it... lol!

I feel quite proud of the way this chapter turned out and I enjoyed a lot writing it, so reviews would be highly appreciated. Let me know if this is something I shouldn't be proud of, if there's OCC, you didn't like it or you agree with me that this chappie is interesting.

Speaking of reviews...

bloodyrose101/silverofthemoon: yeah... damn writer's block. I hate it. Anyway... a little late, but here's the update.
acosta perez jose ramiro: Yup. Bob's a jerk. And yeah... poor Arnold's in danger...
China Kouran: Sorry I made you wait, but here's the update...
BlackNhite: Gee... thanks! And yeah shh... no spoilers. You can try guessing, though... But I won't tell you if you're right or wrong.
AnimeMiko15: yeah, I wrote... and look! I wrote again! That's a good question: what will he do? And she... oh, she won't like the waking up.
Inferna: Hi! And thank you... I think this chapter is a bit longer than the previous ones... I'll keep trying )

Thanks a lot to all of my readers for your patience... And forgive me for making you wait so long. I'll try to keep that from happening in the future.

See you (hopefully) soon!

-- mxnhpfreak ((smiles))

P.S. Hmmm... do you think I should change the genres of my story? They're currently Humor & Romance... but I think it is going somewhere I didn't thought it would, when I first started. I don't mind, but I do think I might have to change the genres... what do you guys think? Let me know, please.