14. Curry Date with Buttons
The ride was smooth. Too smooth.
‘Holy shit, Goggles really did fix my car,’ Rippa thought. Then she realized the implication. ‘He can do shit on this side of the portal, too!’
Rippa glanced at Buttons in the rearview mirror. ‘If Goggles and Buttons are the same kind, does that mean Buttons has the same power?’ Or maybe she’s still too young for that? Rippa glanced again. The kid had her face pressed against the window and was watching the passing scenery with great interest. On the other hand, Miss Pendrake, in the passenger seat, was paying attention to Rippa’s driving. She seemed to like cars and driving.
“Buttons, are you excited?” Rippa asked over her shoulder.
“Why, yes!” Buttons answered excitedly. “It’s been ages since I’ve been out. So many things have changed. Wow!”
Rippa noted that and pressed a little further. “When was the last time?”
“Around the Great War,” Buttons answered.
“What war?”
“But then I saw the waterslide in Wicksteed, so I had Goggles make me one. I was on it until very recently.”
“What?”
But Buttons didn’t answer. She was too preoccupied watching the world pass by.
“What does she mean?” Rippa asked Miss Pendrake, who didn’t answer either.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Rippa observed.
“What?” Buttons caught that.
“I said Miss Pendrake doesn’t talk much.”
“Oh, we didn’t give her a voice,” Buttons explained. “I wanted a JP dub, but Goggles said appropriating Miss Ayako’s voice would be highly inappropriate.”
“What?” Rippa glanced at Miss Pendrake again. The teen blond girl remained calm and indifferent.
‘They are like onions,’ Rippa thought. Each time she thought she had peeled a layer of truth, there were more waiting to be revealed. Or perhaps she was asking the wrong questions?
***
Rippa parked her pickup truck in a parking lot not too far from the town’s center.
Miss Pendrake tried her hand at unbuckling Buttons and was successful. After helping the kid out of the car, she pulled the seatbelt all the way out and then let go, and watched the belt quickly roll back. This seemed to have made her question what safety the belt actually offered. She took a step back, seemingly in deep thought.
Rippa found it cute and stepped in. She leaned inside and pulled the belt rather quickly. Working as designed, the seatbelt resisted. She turned her head and met Miss Pendrake’s green eyes. Curiosity satisfied, the bodyguard nodded to thank Rippa for the demonstration.
Meanwhile, Buttons was eyeing a Taco Truck parked on the other side of the lot. The truck had a big neon sign on top, “Popescu Tacos” blinking in pink. It was open for business, with a couple of people already standing in line to be served.
“Rippa, Rippa, taco!”
Rippa looked at the truck. “Have you had tacos before?”
Buttons nodded.
“Maybe we have some on the way back? But for now, we go for curries, OK?”
“OK,” Buttons nodded again.
After locking her truck, Rippa took stock of her little group. There was Rippa herself, the adult of the three. Then there was Miss Pendrake, the bodyguard, but the lore-accurate physique made her appear, for all intents and purposes, to be a minor herself. Fourteen? Fifteen? Sixteen max. And then there was the crown jewel, Buttons, the one-legged ginger kid with a cane.
No matter how Rippa looked at it, the group resembled a college-age girl taking her little cousins out for a stroll. Which was kinda ironic, Rippa thought. After all, in terms of power scale, she was at the bottom of the pyramid in this group.
Rippa proceeded to put on a large mask that covered half her face and pulled a beanie over her head.
“OK, one more thing,” Rippa addressed Buttons. “When there are other people around, don’t call me Rippa, OK?”
Buttons blinked a couple of times, then realized what Rippa meant. She winked and nodded.
Miss Pendrake nodded, too, but Rippa thought, ‘Bruh, you don’t even speak.’
***
Rippa held Buttons’ left hand. She led the group out of the parking lot and through downtown. She quickly adjusted her pace to accommodate Buttons’ walking speed.
Buttons looked left and right and made comments on whatever she found interesting.
“It’s all boxy and rectangles and so large,” the ancient child observed, “unlike the old continent. Truly a New World, as they say.”
Rippa looked down. “Haven’t you seen America before?”
Buttons shook her head. “Not after independence. Well, except your home, I mean.”
Rippa gulped.
“Of course, I’ve seen videos on YouTube and TikTok,” Buttons added, “but it’s different actually seeing it myself, you know?”
They turned a corner and came across a woman struggling with her dog. The dog was sitting and wagging its tail.
“Suzie, come on,” the woman was urging, but Suzie wouldn’t budge.
Rippa didn’t pay much attention, but after a few steps, Buttons turned her head and looked at the dog.
“Good girl. Very polite.”
The dog wagged its tail even more.
“Now go on. Don’t mind me.”
Suzie finally stood up and followed the woman.
When similar incidents happened three more times involving dogs, and twice involving cats, it finally dawned on Rippa. The animals were standing at attention, waiting for Buttons, and saluting as she passed by.
“Buttons, what’s going on?” Rippa hissed.
“Ah, this happens,” the kid shrugged. “Polite creatures, eh?”
“They can tell?”
“Yeah,” Buttons nodded nonchalantly, “that’s why I avoid zoos.”
Rippa briefly imagined Buttons standing in front of a monkey cage. ‘They probably go apeshit,’ she thought, chuckling to herself. ‘Hehehe. Monkeys. Apeshit.’
***
Thanks to Google Maps, Rippa successfully found the Indian restaurant despite it being her first time. The place wasn’t too packed, but it wasn’t empty either.
An immigrant-looking waitress welcomed Rippa’s group and seated them in a good place.
“This place looks nice,” Rippa commented.
It was, indeed. On the window sills, there were oriental-looking trinkets and vases. On the walls, colorful tapestries. Ethnic music filled the venue, but not too loud. Just enough to remain in the background.
The waitress brought the menu, and, to her and Rippa’s surprise, Buttons thanked her in… whatever language that was. The waitress had a surprised look on her face, which quickly turned to appreciation. She and Buttons had a conversation, and then the waitress brought the owner.
The owner, a man with balding silver hair that contrasted nicely with his skin tone, was also fascinated by Buttons speaking his language.
Rippa could tell, by the excited gestures and body language, that the owner was explaining about the venue, about the tapestry, and where he bought the furniture and such. He also occasionally pointed towards the kitchen, very invested in telling Buttons everything about his proud restaurant.
In the end, the owner patted Buttons on the back and, in English, told the table that drinks and appetizers would be on the house before wishing them bon appétit and returning to his work.
“Buttons!” Rippa hissed. “You speak Hindi?”
“Eh? Ah, that was Tamil,” Buttons answered, her eyes studying the menu. “Southern India.”
Rippa wanted to press further, but the kid seemed so nonchalant about it. Miss Pendrake also looked unfazed. In the end, Rippa shrugged and looked at the menu in her hand… and she needed some help.
“Buttons, help me out here. What do I order?”
***
When the waitress brought a spork with a pink handle and a sky-blue plastic cup with Queen Elsa’s face on it, Rippa burst out laughing. No matter how ancient Buttons was, the kid couldn’t win against reality.
Buttons and the waitress took a minute or so to dissuade Rippa from ordering Shrimp Vindaloo.
“I watched your spicy Korean cup noodle challenge stream,” Buttons reminded Rippa. “Vindaloo is not a wise choice at your level.”
But since Rippa was so insistent on trying something spicy, Buttons and the waitress spent another minute discussing the menu, and finally settled on a dish that they thought was just hot enough for Rippa to handle. Their recommendation turned out to be an excellent choice, and Rippa enjoyed the meal to the fullest. She also made a mental note not to even dare to try Vindaloo ever.
“I’m quite surprised you love curry so much,” Rippa remarked. “I thought kids liked hamburgers and pizzas more.”
Buttons leaned over the table and whispered, “I don’t actually need to eat.” She leaned back in her seat. “So, every bite of anything is a luxury to me.” Buttons then tore a small piece of Naan bread and wiped her plate clean before popping it into her equally small mouth. “You see, Indian food is quite flamboyant, don’t you agree?”
“That’s a big word coming from you.”
“Well, so, I thought, if I’m indulging myself, I want it to be as spectacular as possible.” Buttons grinned. “More bang for the buck, as they say.”
Rippa chuckled. ‘Oh, this kid.’ Buttons lived like a princess in her so-called palace, surrounded by a literal space butler and maids. Yet…
“That sounds like a poor man’s logic,” Rippa jabbed playfully.
Buttons didn’t take offense, but smiled. “I just want every little thing to… count.”
***
When the bill came, Buttons nudged Miss Pendrake, who in turn took the bill.
“I will pay,” Buttons announced, and rummaged through her coat that she had hung on her chair.
To Rippa’s shock, the kid fished out a finger-sized gold bar from the coat’s pocket. Rippa quickly reached across the table and wrapped her hand over Buttons’. She glanced around. Thankfully, nobody saw the little gold bar.
“Buttons, what the f—, heck? Why do you have that?” Rippa hissed.
“Oh, I just grabbed whatever was lying around.”
“No, I mean…” Rippa frowned. She still held on to Buttons’ small fist. “We don’t use that anymore.”
“Oh…” Buttons seemed to get it now. She then remembered something and faced Miss Pendrake. “Wait, didn’t Goggles give you something?”
From her shirt pocket, the blond teen girl produced a credit card that was pitch black with a small helmeted head embossed in silver.
Rippa snatched it out of Miss Pendrake’s hand. “What the f—, heck. No. I’ll pay. Just put these away, please.”
When the girls put the things away, Rippa wiped sweat off her brow. ‘This could have gone horribly wrong,’ she thought. OK, little Buttons with gold was something that could have been laughed off. Some rich out-of-touch kid just brought whatever from her parents’ drawer, or whatever. But a middle schooler randomly flashing an AMEX Centurion for a bill of just under a hundred dollars, and during school hours at that… that was a sure way to get cops called on them.
Thankfully, the restaurant was new and modern enough, and had a robust payment system that accepted cash transfer, including tips. Rippa handled the adult business while Buttons and Miss Pendrake watched with curious eyes.
***
After lunch, the three walked around the town center. The weather was sunny with a pleasant breeze. Not as perfect as Goggles’ careful climate control, Rippa thought, but still very nice and very earthly.
A few people did stare at the oddly dressed one-legged ginger kid, but more in a sympathetic ‘Oh, no, what happened?’ way. But their pity would quickly dissipate upon seeing Buttons cheerfully chatting with Rippa.
The kid had keen eyes and noticed things Rippa wouldn’t. For example, after passing a series of parked cars, Buttons stopped, pulled Rippa’s elbow, and asked, pointing at the fuel door on a car next to her, “What are those round things?”
“Ah, that’s where we pump gas in.”
“Hmm…” Buttons then looked at the other car that the group had passed. “That one doesn’t have it. But the one before that had it.”
Rippa looked at the three cars, one that they were standing by and the two they had walked past. All were facing the same way. She realized what Buttons meant.
Had the car in the middle been facing the other way, Buttons would have made a reasonable deduction that the car’s fuel door wasn’t visible from this side. But since all three were facing the same way, the kid was able to discern the discrepancy.
Rippa was impressed Buttons did that in a split second. ‘Mech engineer, after all.’
“Well, some cars have it on the right side, and some on the left,” Rippa explained.
Buttons frowned, but didn’t press further.
Now it was Rippa’s turn to wonder about it. ‘Why the heck don’t we have it all on the same side?’ which then evolved into, ‘Wait, which side was mine on?’ and Rippa had a minor anxiety attack, trying to remember. It was the same kind of panic as asking herself, ‘Did I put away the vibrator?’ which happened more often than not.
“Miss Pendrake says yours is on the left,” Buttons interrupted Rippa’s thought. She looked at the three cars again and added, “I guess it’s half and half, then.”
“What? Erm… yeah, I guess so,” Rippa agreed, but was not sure. She was more curious about how Buttons talked to Miss Pendrake.
After that, the three continued their stroll through the town and then visited a small cafe, where Buttons sank into a comfy sofa, drank a cup of hot chocolate, and took a thirty-minute after-lunch nap.
Rippa didn’t have much to talk about with Miss Pendrake, so she let the girl drink her tea in peace and spent the time on her phone, catching up with an artist she had commissioned.
When Buttons woke up, they left the cafe and walked some more through the town center, gradually making their way back to the parking lot.
Rippa was becoming increasingly aware… There wasn’t much for a kid like Buttons to do in the town. Sure, there were shops. Clothes, shoes, toys, vapes, mobile phones. And then there were restaurants and cafes. But all those places were there for things to be consumed, Rippa argued. Apart from the small playground at the equally small park, there were no places where a kid could just be a kid, and not some tagalong to an adult. But then again, what did it even mean to be a child? ‘What did I do when I was little?’ Rippa searched her memories… and there wasn’t anything spectacularly remarkable, something so good and cherished that she would want Buttons to also experience.
‘Man, this is hard,’ Rippa concluded.
She felt Buttons’ hand squeezing hers for a brief second. The kid had also been silent for a while, just walking along and watching the world pass by. Rippa looked down to her side, at the top of the kid’s bobbing head.
Buttons noticed Rippa’s gaze and looked up. “Thank you, Rippa.”
“Huh?”
“I might sound a bit condescending, but I do understand that your days are numbered. Yet, you spend time with me. So… thank you.”
“Buttons, you phrased that so horribly bad,” Rippa laughed.
Buttons laughed, too.