Chapter 5

The first five days of our new life were spent rooting ourselves to the mundane. Washing dishes became a sport. Cooking was an adventure for the palate and our senses. I have found an appreciation for colors and bubbles with the help of laundry.

It was a pity though that Lulu didn't share the same sentiments. While I had taken to this life like Christopher Columbus settling in the country he colonized for the motherland, Lulu was a forlorn crewmate who had trouble adapting to the culture. But never you mind. She'd be good at it later.

On our sixth day as residents, I was woken by an unbearably horrible smell coming from downstairs. Taking my bathrobe from the chair where I left it last night, I made my way out of the room with quick steps. Lulu's door from across the hall was ajar, which meant she wasn't inside. "Lu?" I said, tying my robe tighter. "Where are you?" Perhaps she was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for us. She did promise to surprise me with something special before going to bed.

I haven't taken the first step to the stairs when I noticed the fog coating the room below. Then it hit me. A strong foul smell that reminded me of the sewers Lulu accidentally got herself into when traveling in Asia. I was with Casper and Lulu that day, as our usual modus. If Lulu had been more careful, she'd have seen the manhole and wouldn't get stuck midway. Then we wouldn't have needed the help of the fire department and the rescue team. It was so embarrassing to be thought of as a group of clumsy teens. Come to think of it, when the three of us were together, it always meant trouble.

The more I descended the stairs, the more convinced I was that I have woken up to war. Maybe the Russians or Chinese got tired of us and decided to go all out. My imagination came up with the scenarios. A bomb explosion could be accompanied by a blinding flash, like lightning, but so much worse. Then there would be radiation that would bring heat strong enough to set combustible things on fire even at a far distance. Fireballs, pulse or radiations, things you only saw in movies would be present. With both feet planted on the first floor, I prepared myself for the worst.

"Hi there, Scotland," Lulu greeted, whizzing past me. She had a tacky green apron on, a ladle on one hand, bandana on her glorious curly hair. Surely, that wouldn't be her outfit for war. Or was it? I followed her to the fog covered kitchen, fanning the air with my hands. "Please sit. Breakfast is almost ready," she said. I opened the nearest windows first, taking in the sights of the neighborhood. Houses weren't burnt. People weren't screaming. There were neither wars nor bomb explosions. Only Lulu preparing food. I sighed in relief.

The clean air from the window soon replaced the poison in the kitchen. I went to my respective chair next to the table, calming my overactive brain. That was the only downside of knowing too much. The scenarios you could conjure were brutal, especially when you lacked sleep because you spent the time researching the night prior.

Lulu scooped murky liquid from the boiling pot to a smaller bowl. She had a big smile when she took it to the table and pushed it in front of me. I gagged at the smell of rotten eggs but tried hard not to let it show. "Not to be super inquisitive," I said, my eyes focused on the bowl. "What is this thing?" It bubbled and spewed, the makings of something long and yellowish starting to float on the surface. A bone marrow, maybe. Lulu's jaw tightened. "Never mind," I said. "Bon appétit."

Perhaps it was the kind of exotic food we tasted once. That didn't look too good, but it was a delight. I took a spoonful of Lulu's dish and put it in my mouth. This. This wasn't that kind of food. I put my head on the table, banging my fist. "Water," I croaked.

Lulu dashed to the sink without thinking twice, going back to me with a glass. I pinched my nose and drowned my throat with the cool liquid. My elixir. If only it was enough to get rid of the slime. Her shoulders sagged. "I followed the recipe to the last period. I can't imagine what went wrong," she said. Lulu dipped a finger on the bowl and tasted it for herself. Her face contorted. "Eew! That's nasty." Something buzzed from another part of the house while I scraped my tongue with tissue. "That's the dryer. I think the clothes are ready." She left my side to attend to it.

Meanwhile, I took the stinky breakfast and ditched it in the trash. Nobody would be eating that anytime soon, even the dogs. It would be animal cruelty. When I turned around, Lulu was back, her lips pursed. "Something wrong?" I said.

She fidgeted. "I'll pay for your sweater and shirt," she said. "And that other shirt. In fact, let's go shopping one of these days. We're running out of clothes."

I sighed. "What color this time?"

"I didn't mix the white from the black or the colored if that's what you're asking," she confessed. "More like your clothes shrunk." Her eyes watered. "I don't get how you can be so good at things in just days while I monumentally suck. We're total opposites. How can you stand me?"

I patted her back. "There, there," I consoled. "Don't say those things. You're my Watson. Sherlock would be lost without him. We have different strengths, that's all. And hey, we need to go out today, so we can go shopping for clothes too. I wasn't able to tell you yesterday because I was busy. It's time we get out of the house and explore the neighborhood. We're ready for this."

"What about breakfast?" She sniffed.

I steered her to the door. "Breakfast can wait."

"We can't go out with you looking like that. You're wearing pajamas."

I glanced down to my bare feet and silk jammies. "Right. Rendezvous here in an hour."