With different eyes

The first riddle

I wake up and stretch, yawning. My joints crack and I ask tiredly: "Ace". But I hear nothing, which probably means that Ace is not awake yet. I get up and go into the bathroom. Here I look in the mirror. I wonder what Roger meant. Out of the corner of my eye I see a flicker in the mirror. I look in again, but I don't see anything in the mirror. Guess I'm not awake enough yet. I turn around and get into the shower. Turn the water on cold so I can wake up properly. After I'm really awake, I get out of the shower and dry myself off with the towel. A storm? Does he mean it literally or as a metaphor? Is there anything in the book, perhaps? Although I don't think so, if there was something dangerous in it, Marco would say something. Which brings me to the thought that I need to talk to Marco. I make my way to the galley. On the way towards it, I don't meet a soul. I grin, they are probably all still lying on the deck more dead than alive.

I go into the galley and walk towards the kitchen. Maybe I can help. I just enter the kitchen as a cook approaches me with a raised pan. Quickly I raise my hands and yell, "Not Ace! Not Ace!" The cook looks at me suspiciously and asks, "Lucia?" I nod. He still doesn't lower the pan. I take a few steps back. The cook still says suspiciously, "Prove it!" I blink in surprise. My goodness Ace what kind of trauma have you actually given the cooks here. "How am I supposed to prove it please? You don't know me, ergo I can't tell you anything that will convince you. And since there is no water here, I can't prove it with my swimming ability," I argue. The chef puts the pan down. "There's no way you're Ace." says the cook. "I'm glad you've determined that too. But just out of curiosity how do you figure that?" I ask the chef. Would really be interested to know."Ace would never mouth a word like 'ergo' and you're not in the pantry yet!" he says chef laughing. I slap my hand in front of my head. This will definitely be fun when we have our own bodies. Well then at least I'll always know where to look for him. "I actually just wanted to ask if I could help. After the party I think you could use some help." I offer the cook. He looks at me as if he expects the end of the world to come. "I can cook!" I defend my offer. I am looked at skeptically. Then the chef sighs and says, "All right, let's try it. My name is Cook." I shake his hand and say, "Pleased to meet you, I'm Lucia. As you probably know." I laugh. "Now I'm sure you're not Ace!" laughs Cook.

I walk with him to the counter. "And what do we want to do?" I ask Cook. "Typical hangover breakfast: bread with smoked salmon, tons of coffee, headache pills!" he says, laughing. And he doesn't trust me to do that? Ok somehow I can understand him, if I really were Ace the breads would disappear into my stomach faster than Cook can produce them after. "Where do we start?" I ask him. "First we have to bake the bread!" he explains to me. Ouch I'm really spoiled from my world, I was expecting frozen buns. Cook and I prepare the buns. We both work in silence, with Cook looking at me suspiciously every now and then, as if he expects me to jump up and eat it all away. I shake my head and laugh softly. "What's wrong?" asks me Cook. "You have quite the trauma where Ace is concerned, don't you?" I ask the counter question. Cook laughs harshly and nods. " Why don't you try cooking for that greedy bastard? Getting him fed is half a miracle!" he says. He is right about that. "Good thing for me that I'm not a cook!" I mutter. "Morning!" yawns Ace in my head. "Morning sunshine," I reply good-humoredly. "You are in a good mood!" Ace notes. That's right, somehow I'm really in a good mood. "You are in the kitchen. I always get chased out!" Ace complains naggingly. "Why do you think that is?" I ask Ace laughing. "Pfff!" goes Ace. I laugh and get a look from Cook. "Ace is awake and complaining," I explain to Cook. I can already see Cook's hand moving toward the pan. I raise my eyebrows and ask cynically, "Is the pan also used for cooking or just to further limit Ace's thinking abilities?" Cook snorts and mutters, "It's self-defense! Otherwise we'd all starve to death. Ace would keep eating the pantry dry!" "Doesn't he do that anyway?" I ask Cook. "That's right!" he laughs. I sense that Ace is offended. "Ace you know we're right! And we love you for it. Even if you eat the hair off our heads!" I say with a laugh and put the tray of buns in the oven.