Two - Torn Between Two Sisters
Professor Utonium dried the last of the supper dishes and put them away in the kitchen cupboards. He liesurely tossed the dishtowel over his left shoulder and finished tidying up the kitchen, humming contentedly and debating with himself. After he and his girls had spent their hour of TV time together and he'd tucked them into bed, should he spend the rest of the evening watching more television? Or should he head down to his basement laboratory to work on some unfinished business? The latter won out, because, as any great scientist and inventor can attest to, there is never any unfinished business.
He decided he could indulge in both. Lately, he had been allowing the girls to stay up an hour later, until eight instead of seven. As it was only just past six, that would give him time to relax with the evening news until seven. That new-fangled cable contraption that he wished he'd invented would let them watch the girls' favorite shows anytime they wanted to, no more having to park themselves in front of the tube at exactly six-thirty to catch TV Puppet Pals.
He drew the dishtowel from his shoulder, draped it over the towel rack to dry and poured himself a mug of coffee to carry with him to the living room. As he turned the corner from the dining room and got to the fireplace, the unmistakable sounds of an argument coming from upstairs stopped him in his tracks. Frowning, he strode the remaining several feet to the coffee table, deposited his mug upon it, then turned to glare up the wide staircase at the closed door to their room, which was directly at the top of it.
"Girr-ullls!" Maybe there would be no TV time this evening. He marched up the stairs. Just as he got to the third step from the top, the argument ended suddenly with a series of loud noises, none of them pleasing to his ears.
There was a loud ripping sound, followed by, almost simultaneously, a piercing shriek from Bubbles, a loud gasp from Blossom and a startled grunt from Buttercup. Then came a thunderous crash, a loud thud and a groan, this last also from Buttercup. By this time he was already entering the room, not knowing what to expect, and as he burst through the door and saw, it took a moment to register.
Blossom stood in the center of the room, her arms held stiffly out at her sides, a look of wide-eyed horror frozen on her face as she stared at the bed. Her little chair, on its side; her maps, forgotten at her feet. Her mouth hung open and not a sound came out. Facing him, Buttercup appeared to be standing on her head against the wall at the far side of the room, next to the dresser with the heart-shaped mirror. Her legs slowly toppled toward him and she fell over onto her left side, a dazed look on her face. Bubbles lay on the floor nearest him, next to the bedside table that she had obviously crashed into and overturned. The teddy bear lamp, minus its shade, which was in the corner nearest her, lay across her legs. She slowly sat up, saw him and flew into his arms, bawling her head off.
Had he been in the schoolyard the day Buttercup had cruelly crushed her chalk, an event which triggered the chalk monsters driven by the demonic HIM, her cries would have affected him the way anyone who heard them had been, except for Buttercup. It had been heart-wrenching to listen to. This was heartbreaking. Bubbles' body was wracked with sobs, her little heart pouring out her emotions, and his lab coat was quickly getting drenched. His stunned senses were slowly beginning to understand the cause of it.
On the rug near where Bubbles had been lay the left half of her beloved toy. That was the ripping sound, obviously, and instinctively he knew the half he didn't see was somewhere near the instigator. Buttercup was slowly getting to her knees, rubbing her head where it banged against the wall after the two girls had flown apart when poor Octi had taken all he could. Yellow stuffing lay strewn across the bed and carpet and, through the early evening sun that filtered in through the three round windows, he could see a mist of fine fibers drifting down.
Blossom seemed to be coming out of her stupor. Her eyes went to his face. "She did it!" she cried suddenly, pointing at the green-eyed guilty party.
"But, I didn't mean to, Professor! It was an accident!"
"No it wasn't! You only wanted him to hit Bubbles with and I told you to let go and you wouldn't and now look what you did!"
"That's enough out of you, Blossom." the professor said sternly. "I'm sure she didn't mean for this to happen."
Blossom hated being scolded. She was so sure of herself that she couldn't understand there were times that it wasn't her place to speak. She glanced down, away from his eyes, but she couldn't stop herself from shooting Buttercup a dirty look. In response, she got a tongue stuck out at her, and fortunately for Buttercup, her father didn't see it. His attention was focused on Bubbles, who hadn't seemed to hear any of them and continued her pitiful wailing.
"Bubbles, honey," he said, lifting her chin so she could see his face. It broke his heart to see her mournful expression and the streaks on her face from her tears. "I'm sorry about what happened, but we can get you a new Octi."
"What?!" She turned suddenly angry, wrenching herself from his grip. "I don't want a NEW Octi, I want OCTI!!" She flew to the half of the toy he could see, knelt down and gingerly took it into her arms and the tears started once again. "Can you fix him Professor? Please?"
It was such a forlorn expression that he hated to break the truth to her, that her toy was beyond repair. But children are a resilient bunch and he knew that she would soon get past this. It just needed to be handled in the right way...IF he could get the cooperation of his other two. Blossom, chastened, would be no problem, but Buttercup...
He walked over to Bubbles, stooped and touched her hair softly. She looked up expectantly. "No, Bubbles, I can't fix him, but I can get you another one."
"But, he was my very first toy you ever got for me, Professor! I love him!"
This was too much for Buttercup. "Bubbles, I'm sorry he got broke but it's just a stupid doll." She picked up the other half and shook it. A small bit of stuffing fell out and she let the piece drop to the floor. "See? It's just cloth and junk and it doesn't talk and it don't love you back."
Bubbles jumped up, still holding her half. "Octi does too love me!"
Blossom felt helpless. She was their leader, she felt like she was supposed to be doing something, but what could she do if the professor wasn't getting through to Bubbles? She was near tears herself, knowing how bad Bubbles felt, and also because she hated seeing what she had. Octi had been Bubbles' toy, but at the same time he had been a quiet, comforting friend to all of them. He had always been there, since the day they'd been created, and it hurt to see him go. Then, she understood. She went to her sister and put an arm around her.
"Bubbles, Buttercup's right. Octi is just a toy and he can't love us back. What made him what he is to you came out of you. Without you, Bubbles, he is just cloth and junk. All of the love you gave him and the secrets you told him and the memories of all the stuff you did together are things that you still have, and you can give them to a new Octi."
She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see her father smiling down at them. "Blossom, I couldn't have said it better. Bubbles, does that make sense to you?"
The little blonde wiped her eyes and sniffed, and gave her sister a hug before answering, "Yes, Professor." But she couldn't stop herself from giving her other sister an angry, "But I wouldn't hafta if it wasn't for her!"
"Would it make you feel any better if she pays for it out of her allowance?"
"What?!" Buttercup barked. "But it was an accident!"
"Yes, Buttercup." her father told her. "But what caused the accident wasn't. You can buy your sister a new Octi."
Bubbles said, "Okay, Professor." Buttercup grunted and muttered, "Fine. Let's flush this thing and go to the store." She picked up the half of Octi at her feet, turned and floated for the bathroom.
Bubbles was on her in an instant, snatching the other piece of Octi away. "NO! He's an octopus, not a GOLDFISH!" The thought of disposing of her friend in the garbage bothered her greatly, too. She had something else in mind.