Story Summary: Arnold starts to have beautiful dreams about Helga and begins to wonder more about the girl who claims to hate him; despite the fact he knows that she loves him. This story is post-movie confession and takes place about a few weeks after the events of the episode: "The Journal."
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! It is owned by Nickelodeon and Viacom! The characters of this story are the creative genius of Master Craig Bartlett . . . a really cool guy!
This story is dedicated to all fans of unrequited love, as well as all of its many victims.
The Broken Locket
By DarthRoden (a.k.a. Carl)
"Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired." –Robert Frost
Part One: Arnold's Dream
Arnold knew he was dreaming, because he'd had this particular dream once before.
He was sitting in the front seat of an old-fashioned, double-decker, single engine biplane similar to the one his parents once owned, flying high over the white and pink clouds. Arnold was clad in a khaki safari outfit with a long, white scarf around his neck and a pair of pilots' goggles covering his half-lidded green eyes. His blonde hair, like the scarf, was flowing in the wind, yet for some odd reason the small blue cap, perched always at a right angle on top of his football-shaped head, stayed in place.
Even though he was only nine years old and knew little about piloting an airplane in real life, in his dream world, Arnold flew it expertly across the orange and bluish sky, just above the few soft white and pink fluffy clouds nearby. He descended slowly, looking out at the landscape below him and smiled widely. The ground far below him was a checkerboard pattern of greens of all shades, mixed in with a few golden yellows, browns, and a few sparkling blues which were no doubt lakes and ponds, even a long, blue river. The whole landscape was cast lightly into a soft, beautiful yellow-orange by the setting sun off into the horizon.
To his left, Arnold noticed a flock of Canadian geese flying next to the plane in their familiar v-shaped pattern. They honked, which Arnold could hear clearly, because the engine of the plane was somehow nothing more than a faint buzz, the wind was also only a slight breeze. He wobbled the plane slightly right and left and smiled slightly again when he saw the geese do the same in response.
Above him, Arnold could see a few early stars begin to dimly shine through the light of the setting sun and off in the distance, he could see Venus shining very brightly against the pale blue heavens.
A thoughtful expression crossed Arnold's face and he sighed at the beauty all around him. This was a really great dream. "It's just so peaceful and beautiful up here," he said aloud to himself, in a very thoughtful, daydreaming sort-of way.
Then something happened that Arnold did not expect.
From behind him, he heard a soft, feminine voice sigh with the same type of profound thoughtfulness his own voice had expressed, and that same, gentle voice answered, "Yes, Arnold, it's very beautiful."
Arnold's eyes widened slightly, very much surprised that he wasn't alone in his dream. He turned around at the waist and looked at the back seat of the plane to see the last thing, or rather the last person; he would have ever expected to see in one of his pleasant dreams and blinked.
Helga Pataki, his childhood arch-nemesis, the girl who always made fun of him, picked on him, tortured him with pranks and called him insulting nicknames, was sitting there in the back seat. She was also dressed as he was, in a khaki safari outfit with a white scarf and a pair of pilots' goggles over her own large, blue eyes. Her long, soft blonde hair was sticking out freely from underneath a brown leather cap with her usual pink bow tied onto it, flowing gently in the breeze.
Helga was looking out at the scenery as he had been moments before, a blissful smile on her face, her large eyes set in a dreamy expression of peace. Arnold blinked again, but she was still there, smiling in that genuine way he'd only rarely ever seen on her face before.
Then Helga looked up at him, a totally peaceful look was on her face when her eyes met his. She smiled even wider, and her eyes took on a whole new brightness so lovely that Arnold was completely taken aback by them. Helga reached over with her left hand taking his right hand gently, and Arnold was again surprised to feel how soft and warm she was, even in a dream. She giggled softly, very girlishly and said, "It's even better, because you're here with me, my Arnold."
It was this final shock that jolted Arnold awake. He sat up quickly in his bed sweating. A small, surprised sound escaped his lips, his eyes were wide. He gasped a little and knew he was fully awake.
Arnold looked at the clock on the shelf. It read 5:42 A.M. about an hour before he normally woke up. He laid his oblong shaped head back down on his pillow, his hands behind the back of his head. Looking up through his skylight at the predawn sky where a few stubborn stars still shown dimly in the light blue before the rising sunshine, he tried to recall the images from his dream, replaying them in his mind, and trying to figure out why Helga G. Pataki, of all people, had been in his dream.
He stayed like that for a long time.
To Be Continued . . . .
"Love, like a cough, cannot be hid." –George Herbert