Chapter 3

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."

If you thought about it, I could hire a person that could come once or twice a week to sweep the floor and wipe the windows. I could go to the laundry shop and have people take care of the clothes for us. We could order food every day and for the rest of our lives. Why didn't we? While those would be convenient, we wouldn't learn from the experience. We would be another pretty faces with bright minds and large bank accounts. It was time for a change.

Lulu was in an acceptable outfit when I came down, plus a handbag. "Keys," I said. She tossed me a copy. "Smartphone." She showed me hers. "Good. How much money do you have?"

"A few hundred bucks," she said.

I rolled my eyes. "Look who's taking advantage of her family name. Whatever, let's go."

You might wonder why we were taking precautions with the keys and whatnot, making a fuss before leaving. She and I, with Casper in tow, loved to see places when we were in high school. It had led to many misadventures like keys getting lost and Casper winding up with a different tour group. All part of being a traveler. We were still strangers in this town, so we would need to stay vigilant.

Ten minutes into walking, I congratulated myself with the decision to choose this place and not go out of the country for university, like what some of my high school classmates did. I liked the idea of having Casper in the neighboring state where he was attending college. I wasn't that needy of a sister, but Casper, like Lulu, was a constant in my life. It gave me comfort to have him near. The neighborhood was also beautiful. The shingled homes were carbon copies of the properties we saw in New England.

Pedestrians in different ages walked by, backpacks on, conversation going. There were some people in bicycles too, pedaling lazily, not really in a hurry. The small shop we passed had indie music on from a band I didn't recognize, and probably wouldn't have radio air time in the future. Nevertheless, I hummed the last few beats I was able to catch as we went along.

A sleepy town like this could have belonged in a different country, somewhere in Europe, yet there it was in one of the wider know locales of ours. A blessing for anyone who wanted to get away without really meaning to. Thus, I was here.

Lulu tugged at my sleeves, pointing to a shop down the street. "There's a bookstore. Want to go before we grab breakfast?" I didn't see why not. I allowed her to pull me there. "Wicked!" she exclaimed like a kid when we were outside. "It's like a cauldron or a wand shop." Anything that had to do with supernatural or mysterious stuff got her going, even a bookstore that was reminiscent of them. The wind chimes hung on the top of the door sounded pleasantly when we entered.

"Go take a look around and meet me at the counter later," I said to her. She nodded eagerly. "Don't buy too much," I reminded. "We didn't take the car." We parted ways, me taking the left side, she taking the right. The bookstore had an acceptable selection of paperbacks and textbooks. For the time being, I would have to rely on them before visiting the university library.

While searching for something to take home, I saw a tape recorder on the adjacent shelf. "Lady luck is guiding me to the right path," I murmured, taking the packaged recorder. It was exactly what I needed for my project; lightweight, could be configured in seconds, a real researcher's friend. Backtracking my footsteps, I went in search of Lulu.

"A minute of your time, miss," someone spoke behind me. I swung around to find a buff, linebacker type of a guy who had friendly eyes and a nice smile. I know what you might be thinking. This was the chapter Scotland met her partner in crime, the person she'd marry in the future, have babies with, and take on the world with fire and smoke. Well yes and no.

"Anything you can do for me?" I said, forgetting for a moment that I've decided to take on a new leaf. "Err, anything I can do for you?"

He jiggled another recorder between his fingers. "I saw you choosing a while ago," he said.

"How stalkerish of you."

"You picked the wrong choice," he explained. "I'm also using a recording device for study purposes, and based on my experience, the one you're planning to buy is a waste of money. This is better."

Waste of money, he said. What did he know about that? I checked him from head to foot. Blue shirt. Khaki pants. Slightly loose necktie. Ivy league. I took the recorder he was suggesting. "I'll buy this then. Thank you." I went back to the cashier where Lulu was now paying for her own finds.

"What's that for?" she said, eyeing my recorder.

"My project."

"And who's that?" She gestured behind me. Mr. Ivy smiled sheepishly when I glanced to see what she was referring to.

"I don't know," I said coolly. "He told me what recorder to get. Maybe he also wants to sell me his mixed tape."

Mr. Ivy stepped forward so I wasn't twisting my neck too much from looking at him over my shoulders. "Actually, I'd like to ask you for dinner," he said.

Lulu shook her head and proceeded to pay. She was used to this, me being asked by random guys for dates out of the blue. My shelter from it in high school was to get a boyfriend, so I could always say I was in a relationship and not have to deal with broken hearts. I always ended up breaking the hearts of my exes too. Something was often lacking.

"I'm not in the mood for dinner with other people," I said. "My friend and I are new to this town. I prefer taking in the sights first before anything. Maybe some other time."

He regarded me for a second before saying, "I've been studying in the area for a year. Instead of finding your way and possibly getting lost, wouldn't it be better if I come along?" I should have known that he wasn't easily taking no for an answer, as with most of the people who wanted to date me in the past.

"I think it's a great idea," Lulu said, wrapping her arms around our new purchase, sealed in a paper bag by the cashier. "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner's on you. I can't wait."

Mr. Ivy kept his promise by showing us the neighborhood, or what little of it we could travel, while he acted like a tour guide after eating brunch. By six o'clock in the evening, he had directed us to the shopping district, the market, a small art gallery, and a couple of houses that had been converted so when you gazed at them, it would give you the distinct feeling that you've stepped back in time. Lulu and I, being used to sightseeing, didn't complain once. Our stop by a locally owned and managed cafe an hour ago had given us enough time to rest.

"Now for dinner," Mr. Ivy said. "I'm going to take you to a section that everyone likes to call the 'Little Italy.' My good friend is co-owner of a restaurant there. We can swing by, then watch in the theatre after eating. What do you say?"

"You guys go ahead," Lulu said, rubbing her stomach. "I've had enough good food for the night. I'd like to sleep." She pushed me to Mr. Ivy before I could tell them that I was going home too. "Have fun, both of you. I'm taking a cab." She left me alone with the guy, thinking she was doing me a favor.

"Shall we?" he said, taking my arm.

Everything you've had the pleasure of reading so far were my thoughts put into paper, which had been then transformed into a book. I'd like to be completely honest with you, since our journey had just begun, and it wouldn't do well to lie to someone privy to my thoughts. Mr. Ivy had asked me for dinner because he wanted to sleep with me. That's why I didn't bother with formal introductions.

If it wasn't obvious when Lulu was with us, he made it apparent later when he was asking me to drink too many glasses of wine in his friend's restaurant. I'd been with men in the past, and that trick wouldn't work on me. Also, I'd won second place in a beer drinking competition. It wasn't a small feat considering the champion was Irish, and we were in their home turf, his buddies egging him on to win. They didn't want to be out drank by a sixteen year old. (Shhh. Don't tell my parents.) Needless to say, I wasn't intoxicated after a glass or two. Even five.

"Do you want to get some fresh air?" Mr. Ivy said, tracing his fingers on my skin. The wine had given him the boost of courage to be flirtatious.

"Fine, lead the way." It would be the perfect opportunity to segue home. He used the chair to support himself up, swaying a little before establishing his balance. "I need to go soon," I said, following him out of the establishment. "Lulu must be getting worried."

"You can call her," he said. Yeah, except my phone died an hour ago, and I didn't want to use his. He stopped beside a brick wall, his palm pressed on the hard surface, his face pink from the alcohol. "The nice hotels are out of the way, " he said, not wasting another second. "And I'm really horny. Can we do it here first before switching locations?"

While he was politely explaining that he wanted to soil me on that dirty place, me- a Roth, a person from a distinguished clan who was going to inherit more money than he could ever see in the future, and to top it off, make a difference in the world through my findings, Mr. Ivy had managed to unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and show me his ding dong. I laughed, and it was wasn't a giggle either. "You're planning to screw me with that?" I said.

He glanced down. "What's wrong with it?"

"It would be nice if I can see it, for one. What do you call that thing, teeny weenie?" His face reddened. I didn't want to hurt the guy. It just happened. "Look," I said, before it grew out of hand. "The dinner was lovely, and you're an interesting person, but this is taking it too far." I put my back to him. If the monk who trained me knew of this, he'd punish me for being so arrogant. An angry man could be a dangerous man, even with wine on his head. "I'm a Roth," I revealed. "Nathan Roth, who I'm sure you've heard of, is my father. I suggest you run along before you get yourself in trouble."

"What the fuck," he cursed. I waited for him to do something bad, to smash my head against the wall or something. But the trick had worked. His footsteps soon faded away. I bit my tongue back with displeasure. Promising not to use my parent's influence was proving harder than it seemed. But I sure would try hard. That I promise.

Drunk or not, he was gone when I glanced back, and so was my ride home. Another problem altogether since I wasn't acquainted to the place. Yet I have kept my wits about, and problems always had solutions. Mine was in the form of a yellow cab.

"Taxi!" I yelled, waving my arms about. Did the driver see me? I had only gotten out of the alley. "Taxi!"

The cab made a U-turn, stopping directly on the side street I was standing on. The soft seat was heaven for my aching muscles. The absent light in the cab also relaxed my weary eyes. If I couldn't say so myself, the day has finally caught up with me. "Along the Borough, please," I said, looking at the rearview mirror. It was sunglasses and not a pair of eyeballs that stared back at me. Curious. "Why, pray tell, are you wearing shades at night?"

"Medical condition," answered a rich, sultry voice of a woman. The kind that demanded attention. Interesting. I adjusted on my seat to look at the rest of her face. It wasn't often I had the pleasure of meeting a female cab driver. Pfff. It was too dark, and she had a cap on. All I could make out was the ring she was wearing, which had the design of a panther. Or was it a tiger? Why was I so interested anyway? It wasn't like we'd be friends. I leaned my head on the seat, closed my eyes for a second. A moment of rest.