Chapter 6

[Awaken]

Bubbles sipped her tea, sending a slight buzz of energy into her tongue and down her throat. Her one-piece summer dress was airy and cool, though the matching blue purse's leather grew hot on the table before her. The sun beat down hard, but her wide-brimmed straw hat and a gentle breeze kept her comfortable.

Physically, at any rate.

"So they're not going to operate?" Princess asked, exasperated.

"Not yet," Bubbles said, brushing aside some of her hair, which she'd let let down to wear the hat more comfortably. "The cataract took them by surprise. It was just a dot in the morning and by evening, well..." Bubbles lifted a thin, flesh-colored adhesive patch to show Princess her right eye.

The gash had healed, leaving only a faint scar. She'd moved on from thick gauze bandages to small patches that were as much for appearance as anything. However, her eye had become so opaque that there was no trace of iris or pupil behind the white. An almost pure, featureless orb.

"This is an outrage," Princess screamed. Bubbles cringed a little at the shrill sound. Everyone else at the mansion seemed used to it. At least, those few milling about the back patio tending the plants seemed to ignore it. "Why didn't they do something? Couldn't they think well enough to prevent this?"

Princess pulled out a cell phone and started punching buttons. "That's it. I'm firing Jamerson or Jingleheimer or whatever his name is. I'll fly in another doctor before lunchtime."

Bubbles reached out and gently took Princess's wrist in her hand. Princess looked up, and Bubbles just smiled softly and shook her head.

"They're doing their best, really."

"I care about results, not effort," Princess said coolly.

"Then just be patient. Please?"

Princess stared back for several seconds before her scowl abated slightly. She heaved a frustrated sigh and pocketed her phone. "Why the heck are you so nice to everyone?"

Bubbles giggled. "Just in my nature, I guess."

"Then why did you want to come over, if not to complain about the doctors?"

Bubbles shrugged. "Just wanted to get out of the house. It's been just me, the Professor, and doctors for almost three weeks now. I get lonely."

"Oh," Princess said. No more words were forthcoming.

"Me and the girls stuck to ourselves a lot. We'd play with other kids, but I guess none of them are friends, really. It's just nice to get out and talk to someone that doesn't get all nervous about my eye or keep saying they're sorry about my sisters."

Princess looked around nervously and drank her tea.

"Am I bothering you?" Bubbles asked, taking another sip herself.

"No, it's not that. I just... Don't take this the wrong way, but I just don't care... Okay, I mean, maybe there's not a right way to take it, but that's just how it is. I don't care about other people. I network, I socialize, I negotiate. I don't do this 'friend' thing. I'm happy to help because it makes me feel good and it makes me look good. So don't get your hopes up is all I'm saying. I'm not your friend."

Bubbles smiled and set her tea down. "Well, you're less 'not my friend' than anyone else I know right now."

"Yeah, but... You don't actually like me or anything, right? I mean, this is strictly pro tem, right? You get on your feet, we shake hands, and it's over, right?"

"We'll see," Bubbles said wryly draining her teacup. "But you're probably right. That doesn't mean I don't still think you can be a nice person if you try, though."

"Ha," Princess said dryly, turning to stare at the hedge maze. "Nice doesn't get you anywhere in this world. What have you got to show for all your misery and suffering? Millions of people willing to cheer you on but too nervous to do anything. At the end of the day, what's a 'thank you' worth, really?"

She turned to find Bubbles smiling bemusedly, making Princess feel she'd said something foolish. She took another quick gulp of tea and set down her empty cup.

"Barkley!" she bellowed. A second later, a man ran up, tea kettle in hand. Princess raised her cup and he filled it. He then looked questioningly to Bubbles, who smiled, nodded, and held out her cup as well. She said "thank you" as he began to pour. When he finished, Princess flicked her wrist, and he departed just as quickly as he'd arrived.

After Bubbles took another sip of tea, she said, "It doesn't cost you anything to say 'thanks.' It's worth more to the person you say it to than you think."

"So anyway," Princess said abruptly, "how's the whole tear thing?"

Bubbles permitted the topic change. "I still cry more blood than tears on the right side. With all this stuff going on with the eye, though, they don't want to take my powers away long enough for surgery to fix that."

"Don't call it 'the eye,'" Princess insisted a little harshly, setting her cup on its saucer with a loud clink. For a moment, Bubbles feared the cup or its saucer (or perhaps the patio table) would shatter. "It's 'my eye,' not 'the eye.' Don't objectify it. It's important to stay attached and to...to think positive." Princess began to falter. She took another quick sip and added, "At least, that's what they say."

Bubbles smiled and set down her cup. "Then if its all about attachment, how about instead of calling you 'my friend' I just call you 'the friend?'"

Princess stopped to consider the idea. She smiled briefly behind her cup and answered, "Why not?"

"So, would the friend like to hang out again sometime?"

"Maybe she would, I guess."

"Good. Tell her I'll see her again soon, then."

"Wait, you're leaving?"

Bubbles smiled and stood, shouldering her small purse. "I have some errands to run. It really was nice to see you again, though." With a slight nod of her head, she added, "Thank you very much."

"But...but... I didn't do anything! You haven't even been here that long!"

Bubbles smiled more broadly, showing her teeth for a moment. "Sometimes it doesn't take much. I'll talk to you later, okay? Promise."

Princess nodded uncertainly.

Bubbles took flight, leaving the mansion behind in a flash of blue, holding her sun hat tightly on her head. She'd been out of the hospital for a week now, excluding frequent examinations, but spent most of that time at home. In all, she was feeling healthy, even a bit restless. Her pain was a thing of the past, and while the final state of her eye was uncertain, she was slowly adjusting to a life with only one good eye.

Offering to bring some groceries home helped her feel useful and gave her a reason to get out of the house. It felt so stuffy and empty, now.

Her first stop was a regional grocery store. She grabbed a basket and strolled straight to the produce section.

While she struggled to find some good tomatoes, a commotion was escalating behind her, at the entrance. It didn't take long for it to come to shouting and grab her attention.

"Insolence! How dare you refuse to service I, Mojo Jojo! No! This is unacceptable. That is to say, yours is the fourth such establishment this morning, and I am sick of it! I demand to see the manager!"

Bubbles froze, tomato in hand, back still turned. What was this strange tightness in her chest?

An employee shouted back. "After what you did to Bubbles, you shouldn't be surprised! This town's had enough of you! And for your information, I am the manager, and if you don't—"

Bubbles cringed when she heard boxes and shelves crashing behind her, but still, she didn't move.

"Now it is I who am manager!" Mojo shouted angrily. "That is to say, I shall be calling the shots. You there. Old hag." While he paused, Bubbles heard a crinkle of paper being pulled and unfurled. "Go to the baking goods aisle and get me a jug of vegetable oil, some paprika, and three boxes of brownie mix. Not the cheap stuff. You! Young man! Get me one—no, two dozen large eggs. Make sure there aren't any cracks in them. You! Hey there, in the blue dress. Turn around and face me when I'm talking to you!"

Bubbles had to remind herself to breathe. Maybe if she held still he'd go away.

"What, are you deaf?" Mojo bellowed as he stomped over to the produce section. The store had grown so quiet they could probably hear his footsteps on the other side of it. "I—"

Her phone rang out from her purse.

"Apparently not," Mojo said gruffly. Bubbles lowered her head, the brim of her hat hiding her face. Mojo roughly grabbed her purse, slung over her left shoulder, and she let him take it.

"What?" Mojo screamed into the phone. Apparently too loudly for the other party to understand.

"What? Bubbles?" No reply came. "Hello, Bubbles? This is the professor... I can't hear you... Hello?"

Bubbles saw Mojo's face appear as he tried to look up at her. She turned her head to her right, looking away.

Professor continued, oblivious. "Sweetie? I'm going to hang up and call you back, okay?"

"Hmm," Mojo hummed, snapping the phone shut.

A moment later, Bubbles felt her basket grow heavier when Mojo deposited her purse and phone in it.

In the silence that permeated the place, even the pressure pounding against her ears didn't stop Bubbles from hearing Mojo walk away. He strode without pause as the automatic doors opened for his departure, leaving a confused old lady and young man to loiter awkwardly with his groceries in hand.

When the doors closed again, Bubbles exhaled deeply as her abdomen tightened. She let the basket and tomato fall as she dropped to her hands and knees, breathing roughly, somehow exhausted.

Her phone rang again as a random man came by to ask if she was okay. She ignored him and reached blindly for her phone, keeping her face hidden beneath the hat.

"Hello?" Bubbles asked in a wavering voice.

"Hello? Bubbles? Is everything all right?" Professor asked, hearing the strain in her voice.

Bubbles could only sob. The man standing beside her knelt down and asked if he could do anything. He reached out to show her his hand, to make sure she saw his presence.

Bubbles ignored both of them, shutting up her phone in one hand and grabbing her purse with the other. The hand with the phone held her hat on her head as she ran outside.

She continued to run. Slowly she picked up speed as she turned several corners, until she went all out and shot back home.