34. Goggles, Make Them Stop!
Buttons, unfortunately, tripped in the tea room and smashed her ice cream cone onto Rippa’s head. This was, understandably, an unwelcome surprise for Rippa, who had been sitting on the sofa, enjoying a nice cup of tea in peace and quiet.
The crispy cone exploded on impact. The top chocolate scoop flew upward before plopping on Buttons’ nape and rolling down into her shirt. The bottom scoop of mango sherbet spread across Rippa’s head as the kid’s hand pressed and smeared it against her skull.
Needless to say, both of them needed a bath, much to Buttons’ dismay, because it was not even evening. The kid calmed down after Madam J.D. telepathically told her that she could skip the before-bedtime bath today. Rippa, on the other hand, was a bit bitter because she was sure Goggles could have magically intervened if he had wanted to, but chose not to. ‘Comedy, eh?’
When Rippa had thoroughly washed Buttons and herself, the maids brought thick white bathrobes. Rippa carried the kid into the small corridor between the bathroom and Buttons’ bedroom, where there were a dressing console with a mirror, a low set of drawers, a washbasin, and hair-dryers.
While Madam J.D. took care of drying Buttons and fitting the prosthetic of the day, Rippa sat at the console and dried her hair. She took her time, and Buttons was done first. The kid headed into her bedroom through the double swing doors.
As Rippa walked into Buttons’ bedroom, the kid was still in her bathrobe, pacing around in despair and muttering to herself.
On the bed, Madam J.D. had laid out two sets of children’s camisoles and panties. One, light pink with Princess Anna’s face, and the other, light blue with Queen Elsa’s.
Rippa had bought them on Amazon. A 2-in-1 pack. When she had given them to Buttons, the little girl was overjoyed. Buttons had held them dearly to her chest and looked up with big eyes.
“Dobby is free.”
“Buttons!”
But now, the kid paced back and forth.
“Choices, choices, choices! Oh, why! There are so many choices!”
Rippa felt a little pang in her heart.
Even Madam J.D. was undecided, faced with such an abundance of choices.
The predicament, however, was eventually settled when Miss Pendrake walked in and swapped the camisoles from the two sets. Problem instantly solved.
After returning to her room to get dressed and dry her hair some more, Rippa finally went back down to the tea room and settled onto the sofa for a nice fragrant cup of—
“We have a problem,” Goggles announced as he walked in. “Let us discuss the matter as soon as Buttons joins us.”
Waiting for Buttons to come down, Rippa put her teacup on the table, went across the hall to the kitchen, and came back with a large glass of soda. After a thought, she made one more return trip to bring a pair of straws.
“What’s the issue?” Buttons asked as she entered the tea room. She plopped down beside Rippa and took a sip from Rippa’s soda through one of the straws.
“There is going to be a Congressional Hearing. About us.”
“What for?” Rippa asked.
She had seen many of those on the news. As far as she was concerned, a Congressional Hearing was just a big waste of everyone’s time. Senators didn’t really ask any meaningful questions, but instead focused on unilaterally delivering whatever statements they had prepared for that day. For farming clips.
Those who were being questioned usually just sat there and stalled and deflected so the aforementioned senators could be platformed and do their performances.
So, a hearing about Buttons and Goggles? What were they even going to talk about? Who were they even going to summon?
“I told you, Miss Rippa. They want to have oversight on Buttons.”
“And you,” Rippa added.
“I am merely a butler,” Goggles deflected, to which Rippa rolled her eyes.
“So will they call me and ask questions?” Buttons asked, irritated.
“Eh, no. They do not even know how to contact you, and all the emails they have sent to Miss Rippa are buried under a mountain of junk mail.”
“Wait, what?” Rippa sat up and pulled out her phone to check her email.
“It does not matter now,” Goggles went on. “They will be questioning the CIA.”
“Ah, of course. Who else but the CIA?” Rippa scoffed. ‘Yeah, everyone would ask the CIA first.’
Goggles continued, “The issue is that the CIA has decided they will deny any prior knowledge—”
“Well, they didn’t have any to begin with,” Rippa interrupted, but then she saw Goggles’ face. “Oh… really?”
The butler nodded. “They are going to deny it. Which means no prior knowledge, and most importantly, no official channel of contact.”
“Why, though? Buttons is already public knowledge,” Rippa pointed out.
“You see, Buttons is not what they are trying to hide. It’s the way to contact Buttons that they are trying to hide from the political leadership.”
Rippa was puzzled by this. “Why?”
“Iraq,” said Goggles flatly.
“Oh…” Rippa shut up. It made sense. “Wait, how do you know all this?”
Goggles just looked at her.
“OK. Sorry.”
Goggles sighed. “It is rather sad, really. To think that this tragic struggle arises from hubris.”
“What do you mean? What hubris?”
“Everyone thinks they are entitled to Buttons’ answer.” With that, he sighed and faced Rippa. “Unfortunately, the CIA denying access to Buttons will make you the single point of access, which will inevitably lead to an attempt to override you.”
“No!” Buttons jumped up and, with her arms flailing, screamed. “I don’t care if it’s through Rippa or the CIA. I don’t want to deal with grown-ups!” The kid turned to face Rippa. “I’ve specifically told everyone to just leave me alone, haven’t I?”
Rippa sighed. “Buttons, the world isn’t that simple—”
“Why nobody ever listen to me?” Buttons stomped, and her prosthetic foot made loud thumps against the floor. “Goggles! Make them stop!”
Goggles did not answer.
“Oh, that’s right. I’m gonna crash this Congolese Herring and tell everyone to leave me alone, or I’ll rain fire!”
“That is one way to do it,” said Goggles nonchalantly.
Rippa almost choked. “Goggles!”
***
That night after her stream, Rippa was at her desk, fiddling with Google Calendar and her YouTube analytics data to see which day of the week would be best suited for the weekly ‘with Buttons’ stream.
‘Do I slot her in on the day when I already have the most viewers? Or on a low day?’ The question basically boiled down to whether she wished to raise the ceiling or the floor, but the fact that Buttons’ bedtime was ten in the evening was the curveball variable. The stream had to be in the afternoon or evening at the latest. Add to that the massive influx of new viewers… that threw the analytics data out the window.
But Rippa’s mind wasn’t really in it.
Buttons was so adamant she would personally pay a visit to Congress and tell everyone to leave her and Rippa the fuck alone. Rippa couldn’t dissuade her, and Goggles offered no help.
She sighed, shook her head, and stared at the screen. Yes, bringing Buttons in and featuring her regularly was a good decision. That would satisfy both the newcomers and the old-timers, and prevent a rift among her community that could spiral into utter chaos.
“Hmm…” Rippa bit her nail.
‘Isn’t that basically what Congress is doing?’
Rippa shook her head. ‘No, no, in my case, Buttons actually wants to play along.’
Yes, the kid’s agency mattered. That was the crucial distinction.
“Hmm…” Rippa thought again.
‘But then… I also don’t have a say in the matter, no?’