ASeriesofUnfortunateEvents9-TheCarnivorousCarnival

ASeriesofUnfortunateEvents

ASeriesofUnfortunateEvents

BooktheNinth

TheCarnivorousCarnival

LemonySnicket

CHAPTER

One

Whenmyworkdayisover,andIhaveclosedmynotebook,hiddenmypen,andsawedholesinmyrentedcanoesothatitcannotbefound,Ioftenliketospendtheeveninginconversationwithmyfewsurvivingfriends.Sometimeswediscussliterature.Sometimeswediscussthepeoplewhoaretryingtodestroyus,andif thereisanyhopeofescapingfromthem.Andsometimeswediscussfrighteningandtroublesomeanimalsthatmightbenearby,andthistopicalwaysleadstomuchdisagreementoverwhichpartofafrighteningandtroublesomebeastisthemostfrighteningandtroublesome.Somesaytheteethofthebeast,becauseteethareusedforeatingchildren,andoftentheirparents,andgnawingtheirbones. Some say the claws of the beast, because claws are used for ripping things toshreds.Andsomesaythehairofthebeast,becausehaircanmakeallergicpeoplesneeze.

ButIalwaysinsistthatthemostfrighteningpartofanybeastisitsbelly,forthesimplereasonthatifyouareseeingthebellyofthebeastitmeansyouhavealreadyseentheteethof thebeastand theclawsof thebeastandeven thehairof thebeast, andnowyouaretrappedandthereisprobablynohopeforyou.Forthisreason,thephrase“inthebellyofthebeast”hasbecomeanexpressionwhichmeans“insidesometerribleplacewithlittlechanceofescapingsafely,”anditisnotanexpressiononeshouldlookforwardtousing.

I’msorrytotellyouthatthisbookwillusetheexpression“thebellyofthebeast”threetimesbeforeitisover,notcountingallofthetimesIhavealreadyused“thebellyofthebeast” in order towarn you of all the times “the belly of the beast”will appear.Threetimesoverthecourseofthisstory,characterswillbeinsidesometerribleplacewithlittlechance of escaping safely, and for that reason Iwould put this book down and escapesafelyyourself,becausethiswoefulstoryissoverydarkandwretchedanddampthattheexperienceofreadingitwillmakeyoufeelasifyouareinthebellyofthebeast,andthat

timedoesn’tcounteither.

TheBaudelaireorphanswereinthebellyofthebeast–thatis,inthedarkandcrampedtrunkofalong,blackautomobile.Unlessyouareasmall,portableobject,youprobablyprefertositinaseatwhenyouaretravelingbyautomobile,soyoucanleanbackagainsttheupholstery,lookoutthewindowatthescenerygoingby,andfeelsafeandsecurewithaseatbeltfastenedlowandtightacrossyourlap.ButtheBaudelairescouldnotleanback,and their bodies were aching from squishing up against one another for several hours.Theyhadnowindowtolookoutof,onlyafewbulletholesinthetrunkmadefromsomeviolentencounterIhavenotfoundthecouragetoresearch.Andtheyfeltanythingbutsafeand secure as they thought about the other passengers in the car, and tried to imaginewheretheyweregoing.

ThedriveroftheautomobilewasamannamedCountOlaf,awickedpersonwithoneeyebrowinsteadoftwoandagreedydesireformoneyinsteadofrespectforotherpeople.TheBaudelaireshadfirstmetCountOlafafterreceivingthenewsthat theirparentshadbeen killed in a terrible fire, and had soon discovered he was only interested in theenormousfortunetheirmotherandfatherhadleftbehind.Withunceasingdetermination–aphrase which here means “no matter where the three children went”– Count Olaf hadpursued them, trying one dastardly technique after another to get his hands on theirfortune. So far he had been unsuccessful, although he’d had plenty of help from hisgirlfriend,EsméSqualor–an equallywicked, ifmore fashionable, personwhowas nowsitting beside him in the front seat of the automobile–and an assortment of assistants,includingabaldmanwithanenormousnose,twowomenwholikedtowearwhitepowderallovertheirfaces,andanastymanwhohadhooksinsteadofhands.Allofthesepeopleweresittinginthebackoftheautomobile,wherethechildrencouldsometimeshearthemspeakingovertheroaroftheengineandthesoundsoftheroad.

One would think, with such a wretched crew as traveling companions, that theBaudelairesiblingswouldhavefoundsomeotherwaytotravelratherthansneakingintothe trunk, but the three children had been fleeing from circumstances even morefrighteninganddangerous thanOlafandhisassistantsand therehadbeenno timetobechoosy. But as their journey wore on, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny grew more and moreworried about their situation. The sunlight coming in through the bullet holes faded toevening,andtheroadbeneaththemturnedbumpyandrough,andtheBaudelaireorphanstried to imaginewhere it was theywere going andwhatwould happenwhen they gotthere.

Violet,whowas theeldestof theBaudelaires, stretched toplaceherhandonKlaus’sstiffshoulder,andheldherbabysister,Sunny,eventighter,asiftocommunicatewithhersiblings without speaking. Esmé Squalor was constantly talking about whether or notthingswerein–awordshelikedtousefor“stylish”–butthechildrenweremoreinterestedin overhearingwhere the carwas taking them. The hinterlandswere a vast and emptyplaceveryfarfromtheveryoutskirtsofthecity,withoutevenasmallvillageforhundredsofmiles.LongagotheBaudelaireparentshadpromised theywouldbring theirchildrentheresomedaytoseethefamoushinterlandssunsets.Klaus,whowasavoraciousreader,had read descriptions of the sunsets that had made the whole family eager to go, andViolet,whohadarealtalentforinventingthings,hadevenbegunbuildingasolarovenso

the family could enjoy grilled cheese sandwiches as they watched the dark blue lightspreadeerilyoverthehinterlandscactiwhile thesunslowlysankbehindthedistantandfrostyMortmainMountains.Neverdidthethreesiblingsimaginethattheywouldvisitthehinterlandsbythemselves,stuffedinthetrunkofacarofavillain.

“Arewethereyet?”Thevoiceofthehook-handedmanbrokealongsilence.

“I told you not to askme that anymore,” repliedOlafwith a snarl. “We’ll get therewhenwegetthere,andthatisthat.”

“Could we possibly make a short stop?” asked one of the white-faced women. “Inoticedasignforareststationinafewmiles.”

“Wedon’thave time to stopanywhere,”Olaf said sharply.“Ifyouneeded touse thebathroom,youshouldhavegonebeforeweleft.”

“Butthehospitalwasonfire,”thewomanwhined.

“Yes,let’sstop,”saidthebaldman.“Wehaven’thadanythingtoeatsincelunch,andmystomachisgrumbling.”

“Wecan’tstop,”Esmésaid.“Therearenorestaurantsouthere in thehinterlandsthatarein.”

“Boss,areyousureit’ssafetobewayouthere?”askedthehook-handedman.“Ifthepolicecomelookingforus,there’llbenoplacetohide.”

“Wecouldalwaysdisguiseourselvesagain,”thebaldmansaid.“Everythingweneedisinthetrunkofthecar.

“Wedon’tneedtohide,”Olafreplied,“andwedon’tneedtodisguiseourselves,either. Thanks to that silly reporter at TheDaily Punctilio, thewholeworld thinks I’mdead,remember?”

“You’re dead,” Esmé said with a nasty chuckle, “and the three Baudelaire brats aremurderers.Wedon’tneedtohide–weneedtocelebrate!”

“Wecan’tcelebrateyet,”Olafsaid.“Therearetwolastthingsweneedtodo.First,weneedtodestroythelastpieceofevidencethatcouldsendustojail.”

“TheSnicket file,”Esmésaid, and theBaudelaires shuddered in the trunk.The threechildrenhadfoundonepageoftheSnicketfile,whichwasnowsafeinKlaus’spocket.Itwasdifficulttotellfromonlyonepage,buttheSnicketfileseemedtocontaininformationabout a survivor of a fire, and theBaudelaireswere eager to find the remaining pagesbeforeOlafdid.

“Yes, of course,” the hook-handedman said. “We have to find the Snicket file. Butwhat’sthesecondthing?”

“WehavetofindtheBaudelaires,youidiot,”Olafsnarled.“Ifwedon’tfindthem,thenwecan’tstealtheirfortune,andallofmyschemeswillbeawaste.”

“I haven’t found your schemes to be a waste,” said one of the white-facedwomen.“I’veenjoyedthemverymuch,evenifwehaven’tgottenthefortune.”

“Doyouthinkallthreeofthosebrattyorphansgotoutofthehospitalalive?”thebald

manasked.

“Thosechildrenseemtohavealltheluckintheworld,”CountOlafsaid,“sothey’reallprobablyaliveandwell,butitwouldsuremakethingseasierifoneortwoofthemburnedtoacrisp.Weonlyneedoneofthemalivetogetthefortune.”

“Ihopeit’sSunny,”thehook-handedmansaid.“Itwasfunputtingherinacage,andIlookforwardtodoingitagain.”

“Imyselfhopeit’sViolet,”Olafsaid.“She’stheprettiest.”

“Idon’tcarewhoitis,”Esmésaid.“Ijustwanttoknowwheretheyare.”

“Well,MadameLuluwillknow,”Olafsaid.“Withhercrystalball,she’llbeabletotelluswheretheorphansare,wherethefileis,andanythingelsewewanttoknow.”

“I never believed in things like crystal balls,” remarked a white-faced woman, “butwhenthisMadameLulustarted tellingyouhowtofind theBaudelairesevery timetheyescaped,Ilearnedthatfortune-tellingisreal.”

“Stickwithme,”Olafsaid,“andyou’lllearnlotsofnewthings.Oh,here’stheturnforRarelyRiddenRoad.We’realmostthere.”

Thecarlurchedtotheleft,andtheBaudelaireslurchedwithit,rollingtotheleft-handsideofthetrunk,alongwiththemanyitemsOlafkeptinhiscartohelpwithhisdastardlyplots.Violettriednottocoughasoneofhisfakebeardstickledherthroat.Klausheldhishanduptohisfacesothataslidingtoolboxwouldn’tbreakhisglasses.AndSunnyshuthermouthtightlysoshewouldn’tgetoneofOlaf’sdirtyundershirtstangledinhersharpteeth.RarelyRiddenRoadwasevenbumpier than thehighway theyhadbeen travelingon, and the car made somuch noise that the children could not hear anymore of theconversationuntilOlafpulledtheautomobiletoacreakystop.

“Arewethereyet?”thehook-handedmanasked.

“Ofcoursewe’rehere,youfool,”Olafsaid.“Look,there’sthesign–CaligariCarnival.”

“WhereisMadameLulu?”askedthebaldman.

“Where do you think?” Esmé asked, and everyone laughed. The doors of theautomobileopenedwithascrapingsound,andthecarlurchedagainaseveryonepiledout.

“ShouldIgetthewineoutofthetrunk,boss?”thebaldmanasked.

TheBaudelairesfroze.

“No,”CountOlafreplied.“MadameLuluwillhaveplentyofrefreshmentsforus.”

ThethreechildrenlayverystillandlistenedasOlafandhistroupetrudgedawayfromthecar.Theirfootstepsgrewfainterandfainteruntil thesiblingscouldhearnothingbuttheeveningbreezeasitwhistledthroughthebulletholes,andatlastitseemedsafefortheBaudelaireorphanstospeaktooneanother.

“Whatarewegoingtodo?”Violetwhispered,pushingthebeardawayfromher.

“Merrill,”Sunnysaid.Likemanypeopleherage, theyoungestBaudelairesometimesusedlanguagethatwasdifficultforsomepeopletounderstand,buthersiblingsknewat

oncethatshemeantsomethinglike,“We’dbettergetoutofthistrunk.”

“As soonaspossible,”Klausagreed. “Wedon’tknowhowsoonOlaf andhis troupewillreturn.Violet,doyouthinkyoucaninventsomethingtogetusoutofhere?”

“Itshouldn’tbetoohard,”Violetsaid,“withallthisstuffinthetrunk.”Shereachedoutherhandandfeltarounduntilshefoundthemechanismthatwaskeepingthetrunkclosed.“I’vestudiedthiskindoflatchbefore,”shesaid.“AllIneedtomoveitisaloopofstrongtwine.Feelaroundandseeifwecanfindsomething.”

“There’s somethingwrapped aroundmy left arm,”Klaus said, squirming around. “Itfeels like itmightbepart of the turbanOlafworewhenhedisguisedhimself asCoachGenghis.”

“That’stoothick,”Violetsaid.“Itneedstoslipbetweentwopartsofthelock.”

“Semja!”Sunnysaid.

“That’smyshoelace,Sunny,”Klaussaid.

“We’llsavethatasalastresort,”Violetsaid.“Wecan’thaveyoutrippingallovertheplaceifwe’regoingtoescape.Wait,IthinkIfoundsomethingunderneaththesparetire.”

“Whatisit?”

“Idon’tknow,”Violetsaid.“Itfeelslikeaskinnycordwithsomethingroundandflatattheend.”

“Ibetit’samonocle,”Klaussaid.“Youknow,thatfunnyeyepieceOlafworewhenhewaspretendingtobeGunther,theauctioneer.”

“I thinkyou’re right,”Violet said. “Well, thismonoclehelpedOlafwithhis scheme,andnowit’sgoingtohelpuswithours.Sunny,trytomoveoverabitsoIcanseeifthiswillwork.”

Sunnysquirmedoveras faras shecould,andViolet reachedaroundher siblingsandslipped the cord of Olaf’s monocle around the lock of the trunk. The three childrenlistened asVioletwiggled her invention around the latch, and after only a few secondstheyheardaquietclick!andthedoorofthetrunkswungopenwithalong,slowcreeeak.As thecoolair rushed in, theBaudelairesstayedabsolutelystill incase thenoiseof thetrunk caughtOlaf’s attention, but apparently he andhis assistantswere too far away tohear,becauseafterafewsecondsthechildrencouldhearnothingbutthechirpingoftheeveningcricketsandthefaintbarkingofadog.

TheBaudelaireslookedatoneanother,squintinginthedimlight,andwithoutanotherwordViolet andKlaus climbed out of the trunk and then lifted their sister out into thenight.Thefamoushinterlandssunsetwasjustending,andeverythingthechildrensawwasbathedindarkblue,asifCountOlafhaddriventhemintothedepthsoftheocean.TherewasalargewoodensignwiththewordsCALIGARICARNIVALprintedinoldfashionedscript,alongwithafadedpaintingofalionchasingafrightenedlittleboy.Behindthesignwasasmallboothadvertisingticketsforsale,andaphonebooththatgleamedinthebluelight.Behindthesetwoboothswasanenormousrollercoaster,aphrasewhichheremeans“aseriesofsmallcartswherepeoplecansitandraceupanddownsteepandfrightening

hillsoftracks,fornodiscerniblereason,”butitwasclear,eveninthefadinglight,thattheroller coasterhadnotbeenused forquite some time,because the tracks andcartswereovergrownwithivyandotherwindingplants,whichmadethecarnivalattractionlookasifitwereabout tosinkintotheearth.Past therollercoasterwasarowofenormoustents,shivering in the evening breeze like jellyfish, and alongside each tent was a caravan,whichisawheeledcarriageusedasahomebypeoplewhotravelfrequently.Thecaravansandtentsallhaddifferentdesignspaintedonthesides,buttheBaudelairesknewatoncewhichcaravanwasMadameLulu’sbecauseitwasdecoratedwithanenormouseye.TheeyematchedtheonetattooedonCountOlaf’sleftankle,theonetheBaudelaireshadseenmanytimesintheirlives,anditmadethemshivertothinktheycouldnotescapeiteveninthehinterlands.

“Nowthatwe’reoutof thetrunk,”Klaussaid,“let’sgetoutof thearea.Olafandhistroupecouldgetbackanyminute.”

“But where are we going to go?” Violet asked. “We’re in the hinterlands. Olaf’scomradesaidtherewasnoplacetohide.”

“Well,we’llhavetofindone,”Klaussaid.“Itcan’tbesafetohangaroundanyplacewhereCountOlafiswelcome.”

“Eye!”Sunnyagreed,pointingtoMadameLulu’scaravan.

“Butwecan’tgowanderingaroundthecountrysideagain,”Violetsaid.“Thelasttimewedidthat,weendedupinevenmoretrouble.”

“Maybewecouldcallthepolicefromthatphonebooth,”Klaussaid.

“Dragnet!”Sunnysaid,whichmeant“Butthepolicethinkwe’remurderers!”

“IsupposewecouldtrytoreachMr.Poe,”Violetsaid.“Hedidn’tanswerthetelegramwesenthimaskingforhelp,butmaybewe’llhavebetterluckonthephone.”

The three siblings looked at one another withoutmuch hope.Mr. Poewas theVicePresidentofOrphanAffairs atMulctuaryMoneyManagement, a largebank in thecity,andpartofhisjobwasoverseeingtheBaudelaires’affairsafterthefire.Mr.Poewasnotawickedperson,buthehadmistakenlyplacedtheminthecompanyofsomuchwickednessthathehadbeenalmostaswickedasanactualwickedperson,andthechildrenwerenotparticularlyeagertocontacthimagain,evenifitwasalltheycouldthinkof.

“It’sprobablyaslimchancethathe’llbeofanyhelp,”Violetadmitted,“butwhathavewegottolose?”

“Let’s not think about that,” Klaus replied, and walked over to the phone booth.“MaybeMr.Poewillatleastallowustoexplainourselves.”

“Veriz,”Sunnysaid,whichmeantsomethinglike,“We’llneedmoneytomakeaphonecall.”

“I don’t have any,”Klaus said, reaching into his pockets. “Doyou have anymoney,Violet?”

Violetshookherhead.“Let’scalltheoperatorandseeifthere’ssomewaywecanplaceacallwithoutpayingforit.”

Klaus nodded, and opened the door of the booth so he and his sisters could crowdinside.VioletliftedthereceiveranddialedOforoperator,whileKlausliftedupSunnysoallthreesiblingscouldheartheconversation.

“Operator,”saidtheoperator.

“Goodevening,”Violetsaid.“MysiblingsandIwouldliketoplaceacall.”

“Pleasedeposittheproperamountofmoney,”theoperatorsaid.

“Wedon’thavetheproperamountofmoney,”Violetsaid.“Wedon’thaveanymoneyatall.Butthisisanemergency.”

Therewasafaintwheezingnoisefromthephone,andtheBaudelairesrealizedthattheoperatorwassighing.“Whatistheexactnatureofyouremergency?”

Violetlookeddownathersiblingsandsawthelastofthesunset’sbluelightreflectingoffKlaus’sglassesandSunny’steeth.Asthedarkclosedaroundthem,thenatureoftheiremergencyseemedsoenormousthatitwouldtaketherestofthenighttoexplainittothetelephoneoperator,andtheeldestBaudelairetriedtofigureouthowshecouldsummarize,awordwhichheremeans“telltheirstoryinawaythatwouldconvincetheoperatortoletthemtalktoMr.Poe.”

“Well,” she began, “my name is Violet Baudelaire, and I’m here with my brother,Klaus,andmysister,Sunny.Ournamesmightsoundabit familiar toyou,becauseTheDailyPunctiliohas recentlypublishedanarticle saying thatwe’reVeronica,Klyde,andSusieBaudelaire,and thatwe’remurdererswhokilledCountOmar.ButCountOmar isreallyCountOlaf,andhe’snotreallydead.Hefakedhisdeathbykillinganotherpersonwiththesametattoo,andframedusforthemurder.Recentlyhedestroyedahospitalwhiletryingtocaptureus,butwemanagedtohideinthetrunkofhiscarashedroveoffwithhiscomrades.Nowwe’vegottenoutofthetrunk,andwe’retryingtoreachMr.PoesohecanhelpusgetaholdoftheSnicketfile,whichwethinkmightexplainwhattheinitialsV.F.D.stand for, and if one of our parents survived the fire after all. I know it’s a verycomplicatedstory,anditmayseemunbelievabletoyou,butwe’reallbyourselvesinthehinterlandsandwedon’tknowwhatelsetodo.”ThestorywassoterriblethatViolethadcriedalittlewhiletellingit,andshebrushedatearfromhereyeasshewaitedforareplyfromtheoperator.Butnovoicecameoutofthephone.

The three Baudelaires listened carefully, but all they could hear was the empty anddistantsoundofatelephoneline.

“Hello?”Violetsaidfinally.

Thetelephonesaidnothing.

“Hello?”Violetsaidagain.“Hello?Hello?”

Thetelephonedidnotanswer.

“Hello?”Violetsaid,asloudasshedared.

“Ithinkwe’dbetterhangup,”Klaussaidgently.

“Butwhyisn’tanyoneanswering?”Violetcried.

“Idon’tknow,”Klaussaid,“butIdon’tthinktheoperatorwillhelpus.”

Violethungupthephoneandopenedthedoorofthebooth.Nowthatthesunwasdowntheairwasgettingcolder,andsheshiveredintheeveningbreeze.“Whowillhelpus?”sheasked.“Whowilltakecareofus?”

“We’llhavetotakecareofourselves,”Klaussaid.

“Ephrai,”Sunnysaid,whichmeant“Butwe’reinrealtroublenow.”

“Wesureare,”Violetagreed.“We’reinthemiddleofnowhere,withnoplacetohide,andthewholeworldthinkswe’recriminals.Howdocriminalstakecareofthemselvesoutinthehinterlands?”

TheBaudelairesheardaburstoflaughter,asif inreply.Thelaughterwasquitefaint,butinthestilloftheeveningitmadethechildrenjump.Sunnypointed,andthechildrencould see a light in one of the windows inMadame Lulu’s caravan. Several shadowsmovedacrossthewindow,andthechildrencouldtellthatCountOlafandhistroupewereinside,chattingandlaughingwhiletheBaudelaireorphansshiveredoutsideinthegloom.

“Let’sgosee,”Klaussaid.“Let’sgofindouthowcriminalstakecareofthemselves.”

groundsofCaligariCarnival, andhow tocrouchas invisiblyaspossibleoutside thewindow ofMadameLulu’s caravan. If you had been there that eerie blue evening–andnothinginmyresearchindicatesthatyouwere–youwouldn’thaveheardeventheslightestrustlefromtheBaudelairesastheyeavesdroppedontheirenemies.

CountOlaf and his troupe, however,weremaking plenty of noise. “MadameLulu!”CountOlafwasroaringasthechildrenpressedupagainstthesideofthecaravansothattheywould be hidden in the shadows. “Madame Lulu, pour us somewine!Arson andescapingfromtheauthoritiesalwaysmakesmeverythirsty!”

“I’d prefer buttermilk, served in a paper carton,” Esmé said. “That’s the new inbeverage.”

“Five glasses of wine and a carton of buttermilk coming up, please,” answered awoman in an accent the children recognized.Not so long ago,whenEsméSqualorhadbeentheBaudelaires’caretaker,OlafhaddisguisedhimselfasapersonwhodidnotspeakEnglishwell,andaspartofhisdisguise,hehadspoken inanaccentverysimilar to theonetheywerehearingnow.TheBaudelairestriedtopeerthroughthewindowandcatchaglimpseofthefortuneteller,butMadameLuluhadshuthercurtainstightly.“I’mthrilled,please,toseeyou,myOlaf.Welcometothecaravanofmine.Howislifeforyou?”

“We’vebeenswampedatwork,”thehook-handedmansaid,usingaphrasewhichheremeans“chasingafter innocentchildrenforquitesometime.”“Thosethreeorphanshavebeenverydifficulttocapture.”

“Donotworryofthechildren,please,”MadameLulureplied.“MycrystalballtellsmethatmyOlafwillprevail.”

“Ifthatmeans‘murderinnocentchildren,’”oneofthewhite-facedwomensaid,“thenthat’sthebestnewswe’veheardallday.”

“‘Prevail’means‘win,’”Olafsaid,“butinmycasethat’sthesamethingaskillingthose

Baudelaires.ExactlywhendoesthecrystalballsayIwillprevail,Lulu?”

“Verysoon,please,”MadameLulureplied.“Whatgiftshaveyoubroughtmefromyourtraveling,myOlaf?”

“Well,let’ssee,”Olafreplied.“There’salovelypearlnecklaceIstolefromoneofthenursesatHeimlichHospital.”

“YoupromisedmeIcouldhavethat,”Esmésaid.“GiveheroneofthosecrowhatsyousnatchedfromtheVillageofFowlDevotees.”

“Itellyou,Lulu,”Olafsaid,“yourfortune-tellingabilitiesareamazing.IneverwouldhaveguessedthattheBaudelaireswerehidingoutinthatstupidtown,butyourcrystalballknewrightaway.”

“Magicismagic,please,”Lulureplied.“Morewine,myOlaf?”

“Thankyou,”Olafsaid.“Now,Lulu,weneedyourfortune-tellingabilitiesoncemore.”

“TheBaudelairebratsslippedawayfromusagain,” thebaldmansaid,“andthebosswashopingyou’dbeabletotelluswheretheywent.”

“Also,”thehook-handedmansaid,“weneedtoknowwheretheSnicketfileis.”

“AndweneedtoknowifoneoftheBaudelaireparentssurvivedthefire,”Esmésaid.“Theorphansseemtothinkso,butyourcrystalballcouldtellusforsure.”

“AndI’dlikesomemorewine,”oneofthewhite-facedwomensaid.

“Somany demands youmake,”Madame Lulu said in her strange accent. “MadameLuluremembers,please,whenyouwouldvisitonlyforthepleasureofmycompany,myOlaf.”

“Thereisn’ttimeforthattonight,”Olafrepliedquickly.“Can’tyouconsultyourcrystalballrightnow?”

“Youknowrulesofcrystalball,myOlaf,”Lulureplied.“Atnightthecrystalballmustbesleepinginthefortune-tellingtent,andatsunriseyoumayaskonequestion.”

“ThenI’llaskmyfirstquestiontomorrowmorning,”Olafsaid,“andwe’llstayuntilallmyquestionsareanswered.”

“Oh,myOlaf,”MadameLulusaid.“Please,timesareveryhardforCaligariCarnival.Isnotgoodbusinessideatohavecarnivalinhinterlands,sotherearenotmanypeopletoseeMadameLuluorcrystalball.CaligariCarnivalgiftcaravanhaslousysouvenirs.AndMadameLuluhasnotenoughfreaks,please,intheHouseofFreaks.Youvisit,myOlaf,withtroupe,andstaymanydays,drinkmywineandeatallofmysnackings.”

“Thisroastchickenisverydelicious,”thehook-handedmansaid.

“Madame Lulu has no money, please,” Lulu continued. “Is hard, my Olaf, to dofortunetellingforyouwhenMadameLuluissopoor.Thecaravanofminehasleakyroof,andMadameLuluneedsmoney,please,todorepairs.”

“I’vetoldyoubefore,”Olafsaid,“oncewegettheBaudelairefortune,thecarnivalwillhaveplentyofmoney.”

“You said that about Quagmire fortune, my Olaf,” Madame Lulu said, “and aboutSnicket fortune. But never a penny doesMadame Lulu see.Wemust think, please, ofsomethingtomakeCaligariCarnivalmorepopular.MadameLuluwashopingthattroupeofmyOlafcouldputonabigshow likeTheMarvelousMarriage.Manypeoplewouldcometosee.”

“Thebosscan’tgetuponstage,”thebaldmansaid.“Planningschemesisafull-timejob.”

“Besides,”Esmésaid,“I’veretiredfromshowbusiness.AllIwanttobenowisCountOlaf’sgirlfriend.”

Therewasasilence,andtheonlythingtheBaudelairescouldhearfromLulu’scaravanwas thecrunchofsomeonechewingonchickenbones.Then therewasa longsigh,andLuluspokeveryquietly.“Youdidnot tellme,myOlaf, thatEsméwas thegirlfriendofyou.PerhapsMadameLuluwillnotletyouandtroupestayatthecarnivalofmine.”

“Now,now,Lulu,”CountOlafsaid,andthechildrenshiveredastheyeavesdropped.

OlafwastalkinginatoneofvoicetheBaudelaireshadheardmanytimes,whenhewastrying to fool someone into thinking he was a kind and decent person. Even with thecurtainsclosed,theBaudelairescouldtellthathewasgivingMadameLuluatoothygrin,andthathiseyeswereshiningbrightlybeneathhisoneeyebrow,asifhewereabouttotellajoke.“DidIevertellyouhowIbeganmycareerasanactor?”

“It’safascinatingstory,”thehook-handedmansaid.

“Itcertainlyis,”Olafagreed.“Givemesomemorewine,andI’lltellyou.Nowthen,asachild,Iwasalwaysthemosthandsomefellowatschool,andonedayayoungdirector…”

TheBaudelaireshadheardenough.Thethreechildrenhadspentenoughtimewiththevillain to know that once he began talking about himself, he continued until the cowscamehome,aphrasewhichheremeans“untiltherewasnomorewine,”andtheytiptoedawayfromMadameLulu’scaravanandbacktowardCountOlaf’scarsotheycouldtalkwithoutbeingoverheard.Inthedarkofnight, thelong,blackautomobilelookedlikeanenormoushole,and thechildren felt as if theywereabout to fall into it as they tried todecidewhattodo.

“Iguessweshouldleave,”Klaussaiduncertainly.“It’sdefinitelynotsafearoundhere,butIdon’tknowwherewecangointhehinterlands.There’snothingformilesandmilesbutwilderness,andwecoulddieofthirst,orbeattackedbywildanimals.”

Violet looked around quickly, as if something were about to attack them that verymoment,buttheonlywildanimalinviewwasthepaintedliononthecarnivalsign.“Evenifwefoundsomeoneelseoutthere,”shesaid,“they’dprobablythinkweweremurderersand call the police. Also, Madame Lulu promised to answer all of Olaf’s questionstomorrowmorning.”

“Youdon’tthinkMadameLulu’scrystalballreallyworks,doyou?”Klausasked.“I’veneverreadanyevidencethatfortune-tellingisreal.”

“ButMadameLulukeeps tellingCountOlafwhereweare,”Violetpointedout.“She

mustbegettingherinformationfromsomeplace.IfshecanreallyfindoutthelocationoftheSnicketfile,orlearnifoneofourparentsisalive…”Hervoicetrailedoff,butshedidnotneed to finishher sentence.All threeBaudelairesknew that findingout if someonesurvivedthefirewasworththeriskofstayingnearby.

“Sandover,”Sunnysaid,whichmeant“Sowe’restaying.”

“Weshouldatleaststaythenight,”Klausagreed.“Butwherecanwehide?Ifwedon’tstayoutofsight,someoneislikelytorecognizeus.”

“Karneez?”Sunnyasked.

“The people in those caravanswork forMadameLulu,”Klaus said. “Who knows ifthey’dhelpusornot?”

“Ihaveanidea,”Violetsaid,andwalkedovertothebackofCountOlaf’scar.Withacreeeak,sheopenedthetrunkagainandleaneddowninside.

“Nuts!”Sunnysaid,whichmeant“Idon’tthinkthat’ssuchagoodidea,Violet.”

“Sunny’sright,”Klaussaid.“Olafandhishenchmenmightcomebackanyminute tounpackthetrunk.Wecan’thideinthere.”

“We’renotgoingtohideinthere,”Violetsaid.“We’renotgoingtohideatall.Afterall,Olaf and his troupe never hide, and theymanage not to be recognized.We’re going todisguiseourselves.”

“Gabrowha?”Sunnyasked.

“Whywouldn’titwork?”Violetreplied.“Olafwearsthesedisguisesandhemanagestofooleveryone.IfwefoolMadameLuluintothinkingwe’resomebodyelse,wecanstayaroundandfindtheanswerstoourquestions.”

“Itseemsrisky,”Klaussaid,“butIsuppose

“It’sjustasriskyastryingtohidesomeplace.Whoshouldwepretendtobe?”

“Let’slookthroughthedisguises,”Violetsaid,“andseeifwegetanyideas.”

“We’llhavetofeelthroughthem,”Klaussaid.“It’stoodarktolookthroughanything.”

The Baudelaires stood in front of the open trunk and reached inside to begin theirsearch.AsI’msureyouknow,wheneveryouareexaminingsomeoneelse’sbelongings,youarebound to learnmany interesting thingsabout thepersonofwhichyouwerenotpreviously aware. You might examine some letters your sister received recently, forinstance,andlearnthatshewasplanningonrunningawaywithanarchduke.Youmightexaminethesuitcasesofanotherpassengeronatrainyouaretaking,andlearnthathehadbeen secretly photographing you for the past six months. I recently looked in therefrigeratorofoneofmyenemiesandlearnedshewasavegetarian,oratleastpretendingto be one, or had a vegetarian visiting her for a fewdays.And theBaudelaire orphansexamined some of the objects in Olaf’s trunk, they learned a great deal of unpleasantthings.VioletfoundpartofabrasslampsherememberedfromlivingwithUncleMonty,and learned thatOlaf had stolen fromher poor guardian, in addition tomurderinghim.Klaus founda largeshoppingbag from the InBoutique,and learned thatEsméSqualorwasjustasobsessedwithfashionableclothingassheeverwas.AndSunnyfoundapairof

pantyhose covered in sawdust, and learned that Olaf had not washed his receptionistdisguisesincehehaduseditlast.ButthemostdismayingthingthechildrenlearnedfromsearchingthetrunkofOlaf’scarwasjusthowmanydisguiseshehadathisdisposal.Theyfound the hat Olaf used to disguise himself as a ship captain, and the razor he hadprobably used to shave his head in order to resemble a lab assistant. They found theexpensiverunningshoeshehadworntodisguisehimselfasagymteacher,andtheplasticoneshehadusedwhenhewaspretending tobeadetective.But thesiblingsalsofoundplentyofcostumestheyhadneverseenbefore,anditseemedasthoughOlafcouldkeepondisguisinghimselfforever,followingtheBaudelairestolocationafterlocation,alwaysappearingwithanewidentityandnevergettingcaught.

“Wecoulddisguiseourselvesasalmostanybody,”Violetsaid.“Look,here’sawigthatmakesmelooklikeaclown,andhere’sonethatmakesmelooklikeajudge.”

“Iknow,”Klaussaid,holdingupalargeboxwithseveraldrawers.“Thisappearstobeamakeupkit,completewithfakemustaches,fakeeyebrows,andevenapairofglasseyes.”

“Twicho!”Sunnysaid,holdingupalongwhiteveil.

“No, thankyou,”Violetsaid.“Ialreadyhadtowear thatveilonce,whenOlafnearlymarriedme.I’drathernotwearitagain.Besides,whatwouldabridebedoingwanderingaroundthehinterlands?”

“Lookatthislongrobe,”Klaussaid.“Itlookslikesomethingarabbiwouldwear,butIdon’tknowifMadameLuluwouldbelievethatarabbiwouldvisitherinthemiddleofthenight.”

“Ginawn!”Sunnysaid,usingherteethtowrapapairofsweatpantsaroundher.TheyoungestBaudelairemeantsomethinglike,“Alltheseclothesaretoobigforme,”andshewasright.

“That’sevenbiggerthanthatpinstripesuitEsméboughtyou,”Klaussaid,helpinghissister get disentangled. “No one would believe that a pair of sweatpants was walkingaroundacarnivalbyitself.”

“All these clothes are too big,” Violet said. “Look at this beige coat. If I tried todisguisemyselfinit,I’donlylookfreakish.”

“Freakish!”Klaussaid.“That’sit!”

“Whazit?”Sunnyasked.

“MadameLulusaid thatshedidn’thaveenoughfreaks in theHouseofFreaks. Ifwefinddisguisesthatmakeuslookfreakish,andtellLuluthatwe’relookingforwork,shemighthireusaspartofthecarnival.”

“Butwhatexactlydofreaksdo?”Violetasked.

“IreadabookonceaboutamannamedJohnMerrick,”Klaussaid.“Hehadhorriblebirthdefectsthatmadehimlookterriblydeformed.AcarnivalputhimondisplayaspartofaHouseofFreaks,andpeoplepaidmoneytogointoatentandlookathim.”

“Why would people want to look at someone with birth defects?” Violet asked. “Itsoundscruel.”

“Itwascruel,”Klaus said. “Thecrowdoften threw thingsatMr.Merrick,andcalledhimnames.I’mafraidtheHouseofFreaksisn’taverypleasantformofentertainment.”

“You’dthinksomeonewouldputastoptoit,”Violetsaid,“butyou’dthinksomebodywouldputastoptoCountOlaf,too,andnobodydoes.”

“Radev,” Sunny said with a nervous look around them. By “Radev,” she meant“Somebody’s going to put a stop to us if we don’t disguise ourselves soon,” and hersiblingsnoddedsolemnlyinagreement.

“Here’ssomekindoffancyshirt,”Klaussaid.“It’scoveredinrufflesandbows.Andhere’sanenormouspairofpantswithfuronthecuffs.”

“Couldbothofuswearthematonce?”Violetasked.

“Bothofus?”Klaussaid.“Isupposeso,ifwekeptonourclothesunderneath,soOlaf’swouldfit.Wecouldeachstandononeleg,andtuckourotherlegsinside.We’dhavetoleanagainstoneanotheraswewalked,butIthinkitmightwork.”

“Andwecoulddothesamethingwiththeshirt,”Violetsaid.“Wecouldeachputonearmthroughasleeveandkeeptheothertuckedinside.”

“Butwe couldn’t hide one of our heads,” Klaus pointed out, “andwith both of ourheadspokingoutofthetopwe’dlooklikesomesortof–”

“–two-headed person,” Violet finished, “and a two-headed person is exactly what aHouseofFreakswouldputondisplay.”

“That’sgoodthinking,”Klaussaid.“Peoplewon’tbeonthelookoutforatwo-headedperson.Butwe’llneedtodisguiseourfaces,too.”

“Themakeupkitwill takecareof that,”Violetsaid.“Mother taughtmehowtodrawfakescarsonmyselfwhensheappearedinthatplayaboutthemurderer.”

“Andhere’sacanoftalcumpowder,”Klaussaid.“Wecanusethistowhitenourhair.”

“Doyou thinkCountOlafwill notice that these things aremissing fromhis trunk?”Violetasked.

“I doubt it,”Klaus said. “The trunk isn’t verywell organized, and I don’t thinkhe’sused some of these disguises for a long time. I thinkwe can take enough to become atwoheadedpersonwithoutOlafmissinganything.”

“Beriu?”Sunnysaid,whichmeant“Whataboutme?”

“Thesedisguisesaremadeforfullygrownpeople,”Violetsaid,“butI’msurewecanfindyousomething.Maybeyoucouldfitinsideoneoftheseshoes,andbeapersonwithjustaheadandonefoot.That’splentyfreakish.”

“Chelish,”Sunnysaid,whichmeant somethingalong the linesof, “I’m toobig to fitinsideashoe.”

“That’s true,”Klaus said. “It’s been awhile since youwere shoe-sized.”He reachedinsidethetrunkandpulledoutsomethingshortandhairy,asifhehadcaughtaraccoon.

“Butthismightwork,”hesaid.“IthinkthisisthefakebeardOlafworewhenhewas

pretendingtobeStephano.It’salongbeard,soitmightworkasashortdisguise.”

“Let’sfindout,”Violetsaid,“andlet’sfindoutquickly.”

TheBaudelaires foundoutquickly. In justa fewminutes, thechildren foundout justhoweasyitwastotransformthemselvesintoentirelydifferentpeople.Violet,Klaus,andSunny had some experience in disguising themselves, of course–Klaus and Sunny hadusedmedicalcoatsatHeimlichHospitalinaplantorescueViolet,andevenSunnycouldremember when all three siblings had occasionally worn costumes for their ownamusement,backwhentheyhadlivedintheBaudelairemansionwiththeirparents.Butthistime,theBaudelaireorphansfeltmorelikeCountOlafandhistroupe,astheyworkedquietly and hurriedly in the night to erase all traces of their true identities. Violet feltthroughthemakeupkituntilshefoundseveralpencils thatwerenormallyusedtomakeone’seyebrowsmoredramatic,andeventhoughitwassimpleandpainlesstodrawscarsonKlaus’sface,itfeltasifshewerebreakingthepromiseshemadetoherparents,averylong time ago, that shewould always look after her siblings andkeep themaway fromharm.KlaushelpedSunnywrapherself inOlaf’s fakebeard,butwhenhesawhereyesandthetipsofherteethpeekingoutofthemassofscratchyhairitfeltasifhehadfedhisbaby sister to some tiny but hungry animal. And as Sunny helped her siblings buttonthemselvesintothefancyshirtandsprinkletalcumontheirhairtoturnitgray,itfeltasifthey were melting into Olaf’s clothes. The three Baudelaires looked at one anothercarefullybutitwasasiftherewerenoBaudelairesthereatall,justtwostrangers,onewithtwoheadsandtheotherwithaheadthatwascoveredinfur,allaloneinthehinterlands.

“Ithinkwelookutterlyunrecognizable,”Klaussaid,turningwithdifficultytofacehisoldersister.“Maybe it’sbecauseI tookoffmyglasses,but tomewedon’t looka thinglikeourselves.”

“Willyoubeabletoseewithoutyourglasses?”Violetasked.

“IfIsquint,”Klaussaid,squinting.“Ican’treadlikethis,butIwon’tbebumpingintothings.IfIkeepthemon,CountOlafwillprobablyrecognizeme.”

“Thenyou’dbetterkeepthemoff,”Violetsaid,“andI’llstopwearingaribboninmyhair.”

“We’dbetterdisguiseourvoices, too,”Klaussaid.“I’ll try tospeakashighasIcan,andwhydon’tyoutrytospeakinalowvoice,Violet?”

“Good idea,” Violet said, in as low a voice as she could. “And Sunny, you shouldprobablyjustgrowl.”

“Grr,”Sunnytried.

“You sound like a wolf,” Violet said, still practicing her disguised tone. “Let’s tellMadameLuluthatyou’rehalfwolfandhalfperson.”

“That would be a miserable experience,” Klaus said, in the highest voice he couldmanage.“ButIsupposebeingbornwithtwoheadswouldn’tbeanyeasier.”

“We’ll explain to Lulu thatwe’ve hadmiserable experiences, but nowwe’re hopingthingswillgetbetterworkingat thecarnival,”Violet said,and thensighed.“That’sonethingwedon’thave topretend.Wehavehadmiserableexperiences,andwearehoping

thatthingswillgetbetterhere.We’realmostasfreakishaswe’repretendingtobe.”

“Don’tsaythat,”Klaussaid,andthenrememberedhisnewvoice.“Don’tsaythat,”hesaidagain,atamuchhigherpitch.“We’renotfreaks.We’restilltheBaudelaires,evenifwe’rewearingOlaf’sdisguises.”

“Iknow,”Violetsaid, inhernewvoice,“but it’sa littleconfusingpretending tobeacompletelydifferentperson.”

“Grr,”Sunnygrowledinagreement,andthethreechildrenputtherestofCountOlaf’sthingsbackinthetrunk,andwalkedinsilencetoMadameLulu’scaravan.ItwasawkwardforVioletandKlaustowalkinthesamepairofpants,andSunnyhadtokeepstoppingtobrush the beard out of her eyes. Itwas confusingpretending to be completely differentpeople,particularlybecauseithadbeensolongsincetheBaudelaireswereabletobethepeopletheyreallywere.Violet,Klaus,andSunnydidnotthinkofthemselvesasthesortofchildrenwhohidinthetrunksofautomobiles,orwhoworedisguises,orwhotriedtogetjobsattheHouseofFreaks.Butthesiblingscouldscarcelyrememberwhentheyhadbeenabletorelaxanddothethingstheylikedtodobest.ItseemedagessinceViolethadbeenabletositaroundandthinkofinventions,insteadoffranticallybuildingsomethingtoget themoutof trouble.Klauscouldbarely remember the lastbookhehad read forhisownenjoyment,insteadofasresearchtodefeatoneofOlaf‘sschemes.AndSunnyhadusedherteethmany,manytimestoescapefromdifficultsituations,butithadbeenquiteawhile since she had bitten something recreationally. As the youngsters approached thecaravan,itseemedasifeachawkwardsteptookthemfurtherandfurtherfromtheirreallives asBaudelaires, and into their disguised lives as carnival freaks, and itwas indeedveryconfusing.

WhenSunnyknockedonthedoor,MadameLulucalledout,“Who’sthere?”andforthefirsttimeintheirlives,itwasaconfusingquestion.

“We’re freaks,”Violet answered, in her disguisedvoice. “We’re three–Imean,we’retwofreakslookingforwork.”

Thedooropenedwithacreak,andthechildrengottheirfirstlookatMadameLulu.Shewaswearingalong,shimmeringrobethatseemedtochangecolorsasshemoved,andaturban that looked very much like the one Count Olaf had worn back at PrufrockPreparatorySchool .Shehaddark,piercingeyes,with twodramaticeyebrowshoveringsuspiciously as she looked them over. Behind her, sitting at a small round table, wereCountOlaf,EsméSqualor,andOlaf’scomrades,whowereall staringat theyoungsterscuriously.Andasifallthosecuriouseyesweren’tenough,therewasonemoreeyegazingattheBaudelaires–aglasseye,attachedtoachainaroundMadameLulu’sneck.Theeyematched theonepaintedonhercaravan,and theone tattooedonCountOlaf’sankle. Itwas an eye that seemed to follow the Baudelaires wherever they went, drawing themdeeperanddeeperintothetroublingmysteryoftheirlives.

“Walkin,please,”MadameLulusaidinherstrangeaccent,andthedisguisedchildrenobeyed.Asfreakishlyastheycould,theBaudelaireorphanswalkedin,takingafewstepscloser toall thosestaringeyes,andafewstepsfurtherfromthe lives theywere leavingbehind.

CHAPTER

Three

Besidesgettingseveralpapercutsinthesamedayorreceivingthenewsthatsomeoneinyourfamilyhasbetrayedyoutoyourenemies,oneofthemostunpleasantexperiencesinlifeisajobinterview.Itisverynerve-wrackingtoexplaintosomeoneallthethingsyoucan do in the hopes that theywill pay you to do them. I once had a very difficult jobinterviewinwhichIhadnotonlytoexplainthatIcouldhitanolivewithabowandarrow,memorize up to three pages of poetry, and determine if there was poison mixed intocheesefonduewithouttastingit,butIhadtodemonstrateallthesethingsaswell.Inmostcases,thebeststrategyforajobinterviewistobefairlyhonest,becausetheworstthingthatcanhappenisthatyouwon’tgetthejobandwillspendtherestofyourlifeforagingfor food in the wilderness and seeking shelter underneath a tree or the awning of abowlingalleythathasgoneoutofbusiness,butinthecaseoftheBaudelaireorphans’jobinterviewwithMadameLulu,thesituationwasmuchmoredesperate.Theycouldnotbehonestatall,becausetheyweredisguisedasentirelydifferentpeople,andtheworstthingthatcouldhappenwasbeingdiscoveredbyCountOlafandhis troupeandspending therestoftheirlivesincircumstancessoterriblethatthechildrencouldnotbeartothinkofthem.

“Sitdown,please, andLuluwill interviewyou forcarnival job,”MadameLulu said,gesturingtotheroundtablewhereOlafandhistroupeweresitting.VioletandKlaussatdown on one chair with difficulty, and Sunny crawled onto another while everyonewatched them in silence.The troupe had their elbows on the table andwere eating thesnacksLuluhadprovidedwith their fingers,whileEsméSqualor sippedherbuttermilk,andCountOlafleanedbackinhischairandlookedattheBaudelairesvery,verycarefully.

“Itseemstomeyoulookveryfamiliar,”hesaid.

“Perhapsyouhaveseenbeforethefreaks,myOlaf,”Lulusaid.“Whatarenamesofthefreaks?”

“MynameisBeverly ,”Violetsaid, inher low,disguisedvoice, inventinganameasquicklyasshecouldinventanironingboard.“Andthisismyotherhead,Elliot.”

Olaf reachedacross the table to shakehands, andViolet andKlaushad to stop for amomenttofigureoutwhosearmwasstickingoutoftheright-handsleeve.“It’sverynicetomeetyouboth,”hesaid.“Itmustbeverydifficult,havingtwoheads.”

“Oh,yes,”Klaussaid,inashighavoiceashecouldmanage.“Youcan’timaginehowtroublesomeitistofindclothing.”

“Iwasjustnoticingyourshirt,”Esmésaid.“It’sveryin.”

“Justbecausewe’refreaks,”Violetsaid,“doesn’tmeanwedon’tcareaboutfashion.”

“Howabouteating?”CountOlafsaid,hiseyesshiningbrightly.“Doyouhavetroubleeating?”

“Well,I–Imean,well,we–”Klaussaid,butbeforehecouldgoon,Olafgrabbedalongearofcornfromaplatteronthetableandheldittowardthetwochildren.

“Let’sseehowmuchtroubleyouhave,”hesnarled,ashishenchmenbegantogiggle.“Eatthisearofcorn,youtwo-headedfreak.”

“Yes,”MadameLulu agreed. “It is bestway to see if you canwork in carnival. Eatcorn!Eatcorn!

VioletandKlauslookedatoneanother,andthenreachedoutonehandeachtotakethecornfromOlafandholditawkwardlyinfrontoftheirmouths.Violet leanedforwardtotakethefirstbite,butthemotionofthecornmadeitslipfromKlaus’shandandfallbackdownontothetable,andtheroomroaredwithcruellaughter.

ASeriesofUnfortunateEvents9-TheCarnivorousCarnival

“Lookatthem!”oneofthewhite-facedwomenlaughed.“Theycan’teveneatanearofcorn!Howfreakish!”

“Tryagain,”Olafsaidwithanastysmile.“Pickthecornupfromthetable,freak.”

Thechildrenpickedupthecornandheldittotheirmouthsoncemore.Klaussquintedandtriedtotakeabite,butwhenViolettriedtomovethecorntohelphim,ithithiminthefaceandeveryone–exceptforSunny,ofcourse–laughedoncemore.

“Youarefunnyfreaks,”MadameLulusaid.Shewaslaughingsohardthatshehadtowipehereyes,andwhenshedid,oneofherdramaticeyebrowssmearedslightly,asifshehadasmallbruiseaboveoneeye.“Tryagain,Beverly-and-Elliotfreak!”

“This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” said the hook-handed man. “I alwaysthoughtpeoplewithbirthdefectswereunfortunate,butnowIrealizethey’rehilarious.”

VioletandKlauswantedtopointoutthatamanwithhooksforhandswouldprobablyhaveanequallydifficulttimeeatinganearofcorn,buttheyknewthatajobinterviewisrarely a good time to start arguments, so the siblings swallowed theirwords andbeganswallowing corn. After a few bites, the children began to get their bearings, a phrasewhichheremeans“figureouthowtwopeople,usingonlytwohands,caneatoneearofcornat thesametime,”but itwasstillquiteadifficult task.Theearofcornwasgreasywithbutterthatleftdampstreaksontheirmouthsordrippeddowntheirchins.Sometimestheearofcornwouldbeataperfectangleforoneofthemtobite,butwouldbepokingtheotheroneintheface.Andoftentheearofcornwouldsimplyslipoutoftheirhands,andeveryonewouldlaughyetagain.

“Thisismorefunthankidnapping!”saidthebaldassociateofOlaf’s,whowasshakingwithlaughter.“Lulu,thisfreakwillhavepeoplecomingfrommilesaroundtowatch,andallitwillcostyouisanearofcorn!”

“Is true,please,”MadameLuluagreed,and lookeddownatVioletandKlaus.“Thecrowdlovessloppyeating,”shesaid.“YouarehiredforHouseofFreaksshow.”

“How about that other one?” Esmé asked, giggling and wiping buttermilk from herupperlip.“Whatisthatfreak,somesortoflivingscarf?”

“Chabo!” Sunny said to her siblings. She meant something like, “I know this ishumiliating,butatleastourdisguisesareworking!”butVioletwasquicktodisguisehertranslation.

“ThisisChabotheWolfBaby,”shesaid,inherlowvoice.“Hermotherwasahunterwhofellinlovewithahandsomewolf,andthisistheirpoorchild.”

“Ididn’tevenknowthatwaspossible,”saidthehook-handedman.

“Grr,”Sunnygrowled.

“It might be funny to watch her eat corn too,” said the bald man, and he grabbedanotherearofcornandwaveditattheyoungestBaudelaire.“HereChabo!Haveanearofcorn!”

Sunnyopenedhermouthwide,butwhenthebaldmansawthetipsofherteethpokingoutthroughthebeard,heyankedhishandbackinfear.

“Yikes!”hesaid.“Thatfreakisvicious!”

“She’sstillabitwild,”Klaussaid,stillspeakingashighashecould.“Infact,wegotallthesehorriblescarsfromteasingher.”

“Grr,”Sunnygrowledagain,andbitapieceofsilverwaretodemonstratehowwildshewas.

“Chabowillbeexcellent carnival attraction,”MadameLulupronounced. “Peoplearealwayslikingofviolence,please.Youarehired,too,Chabo.”

“Justkeepherawayfromme,”Esmésaid.“Awolfbabylikethatwouldprobablyruinmyoutfit.”

“Grr!”Sunnygrowled.

“Come now, freaky people,”Madame Lulu said! “Madame Lulu will show you thecaravan,please,whereyouwilldothesleeping.”

“We’llstayhereandhavemorewine,”CountOlafsaid.“Congratulationsonthenewfreaks,Lulu.Iknewyou’dhavegoodluckwithmearound.”

“Everyonedoes,”Esmésaid,andkissedOlafonthecheek.MadameLuluscowled,andledthechildrenoutofhercaravanandintothenight.

“Followme, freaks,please,” shesaid.“Youwillbe living,please, in freaks’caravan.Youwillsharewithotherfreaks.ThereisHugo,Colette,andKevin,allfreaks.Everydaywill be House of Freaks show. Beverly and Elliot, you will be eating of corn, please.Chabo,youwillbeattackingofaudience,please.Arethereanyfreakyquestions?”

“Willwebepaid?”Klausasked.HewasthinkingthathavingsomemoneymighthelptheBaudelaires, if theylearnedtheanswerstotheirquestionsandhadanopportunitytogetawayfromthecarnival.

“No,no,no,”MadameLulusaid.“MadameLuluwillbegivingnomoneytothefreaks,please.Ifyouarefreak,youareluckythatsomeonewillgiveyouwork.Lookatmanwithhooksonhands.Heisgrateful todotheworkingforCountOlaf,eventhoughOlafwillnotbegivinghimoftheBaudelairefortune.”

“CountOlaf?”Violetasked,pretendingthatherworstenemywasacompletestranger.“Isthatthegentlemanwithoneeyebrow?”

“ThatisOlaf,”Lulusaid.“Heisbrilliantman,butdonotbesayingthewrongthingstohim,please.MadameLulualwayssaysyoumustalwaysgivepeoplewhattheywant,soalwaystellOlafheisbrilliantman.”

“We’llrememberthat,”Klaussaid.

“Good,please,”MadameLulusaid.“Now,hereisfreakcaravan.Welcomefreaks,toyournewhome.”

Thefortune-tellerhadstoppedatacaravanwiththewordfreakspaintedonitinlarge,sloppyletters.Thelettersweresmearedanddrippinginseveralplaces,asifthepaintwasstill wet, but the word was so faded that the Baudelaires knew the caravan had beenlabeledmanyyearsago.NexttothecaravanwasashabbytentwithseveralholesinitandasignreadingWELCOMETOTHEHOUSEOFFREAKS,withasmalldrawingofagirlwiththreeeyes.MadameLulustrodepastthesigntoknockonthecaravan’swoodendoor.

“Freaks!”MadameLulucried.“Pleasewakeup,please!Newfreaksarehereforyoutosayhello!”

“Justaminute,MadameLulu,”calledavoicefrombehindthedoor.

“Nojustaminute,please,”MadameLulusaid.“Now!Iamthebossofthecarnival!”

Thedoorswungopentorevealasleepy-lookingmanwithahunchback,awordwhichheremeans“abackwithahumpneartheshoulder,givingthepersonasomewhatirregularappearance.”Hewaswearingapairofpajamasthatwererippedattheshouldertomakeroomforhishunchback,andholdingasmallcandletohelphimseeinthedark.“Iknowyouaretheboss,MadameLulu,”themansaid,“butit’sthemiddleofthenight.Don’tyouwantyourfreakstobewell-rested?”

“MadameLuludoesnotparticularlycareabout sleepof freaks,”Lulusaidhaughtily.“Pleasebetellingthenewfreakswhattodoforshowtomorrow.Thefreakwithtwoheadswillbeeatingcorn,please,andthelittlewolffreakwillbeattackingaudience.”

“Violenceand sloppyeating,” themansaid, and sighed. “Iguess thecrowdwill likethat.”

“Ofcoursecrowdwilllike,”Lulusaid,“andthencarnivalwillgetmuchmoney.”

“Andthenmaybeyou’llpayus?”themanasked.

“Fatchance,please,”MadameLulureplied.“Goodnight,freaks.”

“Good night, Madame Lulu,” replied Violet who would have rather been called apropername,evenif itwasonesheinvented, thansimply“freak,”but thefortune-tellerwalkedawaywithoutlookingback.TheBaudelairesstoodinthedoorwayofthecaravanforamoment,watchingLuludisappearintothenight,beforelookingupatthemanand

introducingthemselvesabitmoreproperly.

“My name is Beverly ,” Violet said. “My second head is named Elliot, and this isChabotheWolfBaby.”

“Grr!”growledSunny.

“I’mHugo,” themansaid.“It’llbenice tohavenewcoworkers.Comeon inside thecaravanandI’llintroduceyoutotheothers.”

Still finding it awkward towalk,Violet andKlaus followedHugo inside, andSunnyfollowedhersiblings,preferringtocrawlratherthanwalk,becauseitmadeherseemmorehalfwolf.Thecaravanwassmall,butthechildrencouldseebythelightofHugo’scandle

that itwas tidy and clean.Therewas a smallwooden table in the center,with a set ofdominoesstackedupinthecenterandseveralchairsgroupedaround.Inonecornerwasarackwithclothinghungonit,includingalongrowofidenticalcoats,andalargemirrorsoyoucouldcombyourhairandmakesureyoulookedpresentable.Therewasasmallstoveforcookingmeals,withafewpotsandpansstackedalongsideit,andafewpottedplantslinedupnearthewindowsotheywouldgetenoughsunlight.Violetwouldhavelikedtoadd a small workbench she could use while inventing things, Klaus would have beenpleased to be squinting at somebookshelves, andSunnywould have preferred to see astack of raw carrots or other foods that are pleasant to bite, but otherwise the caravanlookedlikeacozyplacetolive.Theonlythingthatseemedtobemissingwassomeplacetosleep,butasHugowalkedfartherintotheroom,thechildrensawthattherewerethreehammocks,whicharelong,widepiecesofclothusedforbeds,hangingfromplacesonthewalls. One hammock was empty–the Baudelaires supposed that this was where Hugoslept–butinanothertheycouldseeatallskinnywomanwithcurlyhairsquintingdownatthem,andinthethirdwasamanwithaverywrinkledfacewhowasstillasleep.

“Kevin!”Hugocalleduptothesleepingman.“Kevin,getup!Wehavenewcoworkers,andI’llneedhelpsettingupmorehammocks.”

ThemanfrownedandglareddownatHugo.“Iwishyouhadn’twokenmeup,”Kevinsaid.“Iwashavingadelightfuldreamthattherewasnothingwrongwithmeatall,insteadofbeingafreak.”

TheBaudelairestookagoodlookatKevinasheloweredhimselftothefloorandwereunabletoseeanythingtheleastbitfreakishabouthim,buthestaredattheBaudelairesasifhehadseenaghost.“Myword,”hesaid.“YoutwohaveitasbadasIdo.”

“Trytobepolite,Kevin,”Hugosaid.“ThisisBeverlyandElliot,andthereonthefloorisChabotheWolfBaby.”

“WolfBaby?”Kevin repeated, shakingViolet andKlaus’s shared right hand. “Is shedangerous?”

“Shedoesn’tliketobeteased,”Violetsaid.

“Idon’tliketobeteasedeither,”Kevinsaid,andhunghishead.“ButwhereverIgo,Ihearpeoplewhispering,‘theregoesKevin,theambidextrousfreak.’”

“Ambidextrous?” Klaus said. “Doesn’t that mean you are both right-handed andlefthanded?”

“So you’ve heard of me,” Kevin said. “Is that why you traveled out here to thehinterlands,soyoucouldstareatsomebodywhocanwritehisnamewitheitherhis lefthandorhisright?”

“No,”Klaussaid.“Ijustknowtheword‘ambidextrous’fromabookIread.”

“Ihadafeelingyou’dbesmart,”Hugosaid.“Afterall,youhavetwiceasmanybrainsasmostpeople.”

“Ionlyhaveonebrain,”Kevinsaidsadly.“Onebrain,twoambidextrousarms,andtwoambidextrouslegs.Whatafreak!”

“It’sbetter thanbeingahunchback,”Hugosaid.“Yourhandsmaybefreaky,butyouhaveabsolutelynormalshoulders.”

“Whatgoodarenormal shoulders,”Kevin said, “when they’reattached tohands thatareequallygoodatusingaknifeandfork?”

“Oh,Kevin,”thewomansaid,andclimbeddownfromherhammocktogivehimapatonthehead.“Iknowit’sdepressingbeingsofreakish,buttryandlookonthebrightside.Atleastyou’rebetteroffthanme.”Sheturnedtothechildrenandgavethemashysmile.“MynameisColette,”shesaid,“andifyou’regoingtolaughatme,I’dpreferyoudoitnowandgetitoverwith.”

TheBaudelaireslookedatColetteandthenatoneanother.“Renuf!”Sunnysaid,whichmeantsomethinglike,“Idon’tseeanythingfreakishaboutyoueither,butevenifIdidIwouldn’tlaughatyoubecauseitwouldn’tbepolite.”

“I bet that’s some sort of wolf laugh,” Colette said, “but I don’t blame Chabo forlaughingatacontortionist.”

“Contortionist?”Violetasked.

“Yes,”Colettesighed.“Icanbendmybodyintoallsortsofunusualpositions.Look.”

The Baudelaires watched as Colette sighed again and launched into a contortionistroutine.Firstshebentdownsoherheadwasbetweenherlegs,andcurledupintoatinyballonthefloor.Thenshepushedonehandagainstthegroundandliftedherentirebodyuponjustafewfingers,braidingherlegstogetherintoaspiral.Finallysheflippedupintheair,balancedforamomentonherhead,andtwistedherarmsandlegstogetherlikeamassoftwinebeforelookingupattheBaudelaireswithasadfrown.

“Yousee?”Colettesaid.“I’macompletefreak.”

“Wow!”Sunnyshrieked.

“Ithoughtthatwasamazing,”Violetsaid,“andsodidChabo.”

“That’s very polite of you to say so,” Colette said, “but I’m ashamed that I’m acontortionist.”

“But if you’re ashamed of it,” Klaus said, “why don’t you just move your bodynormally,insteadofdoingcontortions?”

“BecauseI’mintheHouseofFreaks,Elliot,”Colettesaid.“Nobodywouldpaytoseememovemybodynormally.”

“It’s an interesting dilemma,”Hugo said, using a fancyword for “problem” that theBaudelaires had learned from a law book in Justice Strauss’s library. “All three of uswouldratherbenormalpeoplethanfreaks,buttomorrowmorning,peoplewillbewaitinginthetentforColettetotwistherbodyintostrangepositions,forBeverlyandElliottoeatcorn, forChabo to growl and attack the crowd, forKevin towrite his namewith bothhands,andformetotryononeofthosecoats.MadameLulusayswemustalwaysgivepeoplewhattheywant,andtheywantfreaksperformingonastage.Comenow,it’sverylateatnight.Kevin,givemeahelpinghandputtinguphammocksforthenewcomers,andthenlet’salltrytogetsomesleep.”

“I might as well give you two helping hands,” Kevin said glumly. “They’re bothequallyefficient.Oh,IwishthatIwaseitherright-handedorleft-handed.”

“Try to cheer up,”Colette said gently. “Maybe amiraclewill happen tomorrow, andwe’llallgetthethingswewishformost.”

No one in the caravan said anything more, but as Hugo and Kevin prepared twohammocks for the threeBaudelaires, the children thought aboutwhatColette had said.Miracles are likemeatballs, because nobody can exactly agreewhat they aremade of,wheretheycomefrom,orhowoftentheyshouldappear.Somepeoplesaythatasunriseisamiracle,because it is somewhatmysteriousandoftenverybeautiful,butotherpeoplesay it is simply a fact of life, because it happens every day and far too early in themorning. Some people say that a telephone is a miracle, because it sometimes seemswondrous that you can talkwith somebodywho is thousands ofmiles away, and otherpeople say it is simply a manufactured device fashioned out of metal parts, electroniccircuitry,andwiresthatareveryeasilycut.Andsomepeoplesaythatsneakingoutofahotelisamiracle,particularlyifthelobbyisswarmingwithpolicemen,andotherpeoplesay it is simply a fact of life, because it happens every day and far too early in themorning.Soyoumight think that thereare somanymiracles in theworld thatyoucanscarcely count them, or that there are so few that they’re scarcely worth mentioning,dependingonwhetheryouspendyourmorningsgazingatabeautifulsunsetorloweringyourselfintoabackalleywitharopefashionedoutofmatchingtowels.

But there was one miracle the Baudelaires were thinking about as they lay in theirhammocks and tried to sleep, and thiswas the sort ofmiracle that felt bigger than anymeatball theworld has ever seen. The hammocks creaked in the caravan asViolet andKlaus tried to get comfortable in one set of clothing andSunny tried to arrangeOlaf’sbeardsothatitwouldn’tbetooscratchy,andallthreeyoungstersthoughtaboutamiraclesowondrous and beautiful that itmade their hearts ache to think of it. Themiracle, ofcourse,was that one of their parentswas alive after all, that either their father or theirmother had somehow survived the fire that had destroyed their home and begun thechildren’sunfortunatejourney.TohaveonemoreBaudelairealivewassuchanenormousandunlikelymiraclethatthechildrenwerealmostafraidtowishforit,buttheywishedforitanyway.TheyoungstersthoughtofwhatColettehadsaid–thatmaybeamiraclewouldhappen, and that they would all get the thing they wished for most–and waited formorning to come, when Madame Lulu’s crystal ball might bring the miracle theBaudelaireswerewishingfor.

At last the sun rose, as it does every day, and very early in themorning. The threechildrenhadsleptvery littleandwishedverymuch,andnow theywatched thecaravanslowlyfillwith light,and listened toHugo,Colette,andKevinshift in theirhammocks,andwonderedifCountOlafhadenteredthefortune-teller’stentyet,andifhehadlearnedanything there. And just when they could stand it no more, they heard the sound ofhurryingfootstepsandaloud,metallicknockonthedoor.

“Wakeup!Wakeup!”camethevoiceofthehook-handedman,butbeforeIwritedownwhat he said Imust tell you that there is onemore similarity between amiracle and ameatball,anditisthattheybothmightappeartobeonethingbutturnouttobeanother.Ithappenedtomeonceatacafeteria,whenitturnedouttherewasasmallcamerahiddenin

the lunch I received.And ithappened toViolet,KlausandSunnynow,although itwasquitesometimebeforetheylearnedthatwhatthehook-handedmansaidturnedouttobesomethingdifferentfromwhattheythoughtwhentheyheardhimoutsidethedoorofthefreaks’caravan.

“Wakeup!”thehook-handedmansaidagain,andpoundedonthedoor.“Wakeupandhurryup!I’minaverybadmoodandhavenotimeforyournonsense.It’saverybusydayat thecarnival.MadameLuluandCountOlafare runningerrands, I’m inchargeof theHouseofFreaks,thecrystalballrevealedthatoneofthoseblastedBaudelaireparentsisstillalive,andthegiftcaravanisalmostoutoffigurines.”

CHAPTER

Four

“What?”askedHugo,yawningandrubbinghiseyes.“Whatdidyousay?”

“I said the gift caravan is almost out of figurines,” the hook-handedman said frombehindthedoor.“Butthat’snotyourconcern.Peoplearealreadyarrivingatthecarnival,soyoufreaksneedtobereadyinfifteenminutes.”

“Waitamoment,sir!”Violetthoughttouseherlow,disguisedvoicejustintime,assheandher brother climbeddown from their hammock, still sharing a single pair of pants.Sunnywasalreadyonthefloor,tooastonishedtoremembertogrowl.“DidyousaythatoneoftheBaudelaireparentsisalive?”

The door of the caravan opened a crack, and the children could see the face of thehookhandedmanpeeringatthemsuspiciously.

“Whatdoyoucare,freaks?”heasked.

“Well,”Klaussaid,thinkingquickly,“we’vebeenreadingabouttheBaudelairesinTheDailyPunctilio.We’reveryinterestedinthecaseofthosethreemurderouschildren.”

“Well,”thehook-handedmansaid,“thosekids’parentsweresupposedtobedead,butMadameLululookedintohercrystalballandsawthatoneofthemwasalive.It’salongstory,butitmeansthatwe’reallgoingtobeverybusy.CountOlafandMadameLuluhadtoleaveearlythismorningtorunanimportanterrand,soI’mnowinchargeoftheHouseofFreaks.ThatmeansIgettobossyouaround,sohurryupandgetreadyfortheshow!”

“Grr!”Sunnygrowled.

“Chabo’sallsettoperform,”Violetsaid,“andtherestofuswillbereadysoon.”

“You’d better be,” the hook-handed man said, and began to shut the door beforestoppingforamoment.“That’sfunny,”hesaid.“Itlookslikeoneofyourscarsisblurry.”

“Theyblurastheyheal,”Klaussaid.

“Toobad,”thehook-handedmansaid.“Itmakesyoulooklessfreakish.”Heslammedthedoorandthesiblingscouldhearhimwalkawayfromthecaravan.

“Ifeelsorryfor thatman,”Coletteremarked,assheswungdownfromherhammockandcurledintoacontortiononthefloor.“EverytimeheandthatCountpersoncometo

visit,itmakesmefeelbadtolookathishooks.”

“He’sbetteroffthanme,”Kevinsaid,yawningandstretchinghisambidextrousarms.“At leastoneofhishooks is stronger than theotherone.Myarmsand legsareexactlyalike.”

“Andmineareverybendable,”Colettesaid.“Well,we’dbetterdoasthemansaysandgetreadyfortheshow.”

“That’sright,”Hugoagreed,reachingintoashelfnexttohishammockandpullingoutatoothbrush.“MadameLulusaysthatwemustalwaysgivepeoplewhat theywant,andthatmanwantsusreadyrightaway.”

“Here, Chabo,” Violet said, looking down at her sister. “I’ll help you sharpen yourteeth.”

“Grr!”Sunnyagreed, and the twoolderBaudelaires leaneddown together, and liftedSunnyupandmovedintoacornersothethreechildrencouldwhispertooneanothernearthemirror,whileHugo,Colette,andKevinperformedtheir toilette,aphrasewhichheremeans“didthethingsnecessarytobegintheirdayascarnivalfreaks.”

“Whatdoyou think?”Klausasked.“Doyouthink it’s reallypossible thatoneofourparentsisalive?”

“Idon’tknow,”Violetsaid.“Ononehand,it’shardtobelievethatMadameLulureallyhasamagicalcrystalball.Ontheotherhand,shealwaystoldCountOlafwhereweweresohecouldcomeandfindus.Idon’tknowwhattobelieve.”

“Tent,”Sunnywhispered.

“I think you’re right, Sunny,”Klaus said. “Ifwe could sneak into the fortune-tellingtent,wemightbeabletofindoutsomethingforourselves.”

“You’rewhisperingaboutme,aren’tyou?”Kevincalledoutfromtheotherendofthecaravan.“Ibetyou’resaying,‘WhatafreakKevinis.Sometimesheshaveswithhislefthand,andsometimesheshaveswithhisrighthand,butitdoesn’tmatterbecausethey’reexactlythesame!”

“We weren’t talking about you, Kevin,” Violet said. “We were discussing theBaudelairecase.”

“I never heard of these Baudelaires,” Hugo said, combing his hair. “Did I hear youmentiontheyweremurderers?”

“That’swhatitsaysinTheDailyPunctilio”Klaussaid.

“Oh,Ineverreadthenewspaper,”Kevinsaid.“Holdingitinbothofmyequallystronghandsmakesmefeellikeafreak.”

“That’sbetterthanme,”Colettesaid.“Icancontortmyselfintoapositionthatallowsmetopickupanewspaperwithmytongue.Talkaboutfreakish!”

“It’saninterestingdilemma,”Hugosaid,grabbingoneoftheidenticalcoatsfromtherack,“butIthinkthatwe’reallequallyfreakish.Now,let’sgetoutthereandputonagoodshow!”

TheBaudelairesfollowedtheircoworkersoutofthecaravanandovertotheHouseofFreaks tent, where the hook-handed man was standing impatiently, holding somethinglonganddampinoneofhishooks.

“Get inside andputon agood show,”heordered, gesturing to a flap in the tent thatservedasanentrance.“MadameLulusaidthatifyoudon’tgivetheaudiencewhattheywant,I’mallowedtousethistagliatellegrande.”

“What’satagliatellegrande?”Coletteasked.

“TagliatelleisatypeofItaliannoodle,”thehook-handedmanexplained,uncoilingthelong and damp object, “and grande means ‘big’ in Italian. This is a big noodle that acarnivalworkercookedup forme thismorning.”Olaf’scomradewaved thebignoodleoverhishead,andtheBaudelairesandtheircoworkersheardalimpswishingsoundasitmovedslowlythroughtheair,asifalargeearthwormwerecrawlingnearby.“Ifyoudon’tdo what I say,” the hook-handed man continued, “I get to hit you with the tagliatellegrande,whichI’veheardisanunpleasantandsomewhatstickyexperience.”

“Don’tworry,sir,”Hugosaid.“We’reprofessionals.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the hook-handedman sneered, and followed them all into theHouse of Freaks. Inside, the tent looked even bigger, particularly because therewasn’tverymuch to see in such a large space. Therewas awooden stagewith a few foldingchairs placed on it, and a banner overhead,which readHOUSEOFFREAKS in large,sloppyletters.Therewasasmallstandwhereoneofthewhite-facedwomenwassellingcoldbeverages.Andthereweresevenoreightpeoplemillingaround,waitingfortheshowtobegin.MadameLuluhadmentionedthatbusinesshadbeenslowatCaligariCarnival,butthesiblingshadstillexpectedafewmorepeopletoshowuptoseethecarnivalfreaks.As the children and their co-workers approached the stage, the hookhandedman beganspeakingtothesmallgroupofpeopleasiftheywereavastcrowd.

“Ladiesandgentlemen,boysandgirls,adolescentsofbothgenders,”heannounced.

“Hurryupandbuyyourdeliciouscoldbeverages,becausetheHouseofFreaksshowisabouttobegin!”

“Look at all those freaks!” giggledonemember of the audience, amiddle-agedmanwithseverallargepimplesonhischin.“There’samanwithhooksinsteadofhands!”

“I’m not one of the freaks,” the hook-handed man growled. “I work here at thecarnival!”

“Oh,I’msorry,”themansaid.“Butifyoudon’tmindmysayingso,ifyoupurchasedapairofrealistichandsnoonewouldmakethatmistake.”

“It’snotpolitetocommentonotherpeople’sappearances,”thehook-handedmansaidsternly.“Now,ladiesandgentlemen,gazewithhorroronHugo,thehunchback!Insteadofaregularback,hehasabighumpthatmakeshimlookveryfreakish!”

“That’s true,” said the pimpledman,who seemedwilling to giggle at one person oranother.“Whatafreak!”

The hook-handed man waved his large noodle in the air as a limp reminder to the

Baudelairesandtheircoworkers.“Hugo!”hebarked.“Putonyourcoat!”

Astheaudiencetittered,Hugowalkedtothefrontofthestageandtriedtoputonthecoathewasholding.Usually,ifsomeonehasabodywithanunusualshape,theywillhirea tailor to alter their clothing so it will fit comfortably and attractively, but as Hugostruggled with the coat, it was clear that no such tailor had been hired. Hugo’s humpwrinkledthebackofthecoat,andthenstretchedit,andthenfinallyrippeditashedidupthe buttons, so that within moments the coat was just a few pieces of tattered cloth.Blushing, Hugo retreated to the back of the stage and sat on a folding chair as themembersofthetinyaudiencehowledwithlaughter.

“Isn’tthathilarious?”thehook-handedmansaid.“Hecan’tevenputonacoat!Whatafreakishperson!Butwait, ladiesandgentlemen–there’smore!”Olaf’shenchmanshookthe tagliatellegrande againwhile reaching intohis pocketwithhis other hook.Smilingwickedly, hewithdrewan ear of corn andheld it up for the audience to see. “This is asimpleearofcorn,”heannounced.“It’s something thatanynormalpersoncaneat.ButhereatCaligariCarnival,wedon’thaveaHouseofNormalPeople.WehaveaHouseofFreaks,withabrand-newfreakthatwillturnthisearofcornintoahilariousmess!”

VioletandKlaussighed,andwalkedtothecenterofthestage,andIdonotthinkthatIhavetodescribethistiresomeshowanylonger.YoucanundoubtedlyguessthatthetwoeldestBaudelaireswere forced toeatanotherearofcornwhilea smallgroupofpeoplelaughedat them, and thatColettewas forced to twistherbody intounusual shapes andpositions,andthatKevinhadtowritehisnamewithbothhisleftandrighthands,andthatfinallypoorSunnywasforcedtogrowlattheaudience,althoughshewasnotaferociouspersonbynatureandwouldhavepreferred togreet thempolitely.Andyoucan imaginehowthecrowdreactedasthehook-handedmanannouncedeachpersonandforcedthemtodothesethings.Thesevenoreightpeoplelaughed,andshoutedcruelnames,andmadeterribleandtastelessjokes,andonewomaneventhrewhercoldbeverage,papercupandall, at Kevin, as if someone who was both right-handed and left-handed somehowdeserved to have wet and sticky stains on his shirt. But what youmay not be able toimagine,unlessyouhavehadasimilarexperienceyourself,ishowhumiliatingitwastoparticipateinsuchashow.Youmightthinkthatbeinghumiliated,likeridingabicycleordecoding a secretmessage,would get easier after youhaddone it a few times, but theBaudelaireshadbeenlaughedatmorethanafewtimesanditdidn’tmaketheirexperienceintheHouseofFreakseasieratall.VioletrememberedwhenagirlnamedCarmelitaSpatshad laughed at her and called her names,when the childrenwere enrolled in PrufrockPreparatorySchool ,but it stillhurther feelingswhen thehook-handedmanannouncedher as something hilarious.Klaus rememberedwhenEsméSqualor had insulted him at667DarkAvenue,buthestillblushedwhentheaudiencepointedandgiggledeverytimetheearofcornslippedoutofhishands.AndSunnyrememberedallof the timesCountOlaf had laughed at all three Baudelaires and their misfortune, but she still feltembarrassedandalittlesickwhenthepeoplecalledher“wolffreak”asshefollowedtheotherperformersoutof the tentwhen the showwasover.TheBaudelaireorphansevenknewthattheyweren’treallyatwo-headedpersonandawolfbaby,butastheysatwiththeircoworkers in thefreaks’caravanafterward, theyfeltsohumiliated that itwasas iftheywereasfreakishaseveryonethought.

“I don’t like this place,” Violet said to Kevin and Colette, sharing a chair with herbrother at the caravan’s table,whileHugomadehot chocolate at the stove.Shewas soupset that shealmost forgot tospeak ina lowvoice.“Idon’t likebeingstaredat,and Idon’tlikebeinglaughedat.Ifpeoplethinkit’sfunnywhensomeonedropsanearofcorn,theyshouldstayhomeanddropitthemselves.”

“Kiwoon!”Sunnyagreed,forgettingtogrowl.Shemeantsomethingalongthelinesof,“IthoughtIwasgoingtocrywhenallthosepeoplewerecallingme‘freak,’”butluckilyonlyhersiblingsunderstoodher,soshedidn’tgiveawayherdisguise.

“Don’tworry,”Klaussaid tohissisters.“Idon’t thinkwe’llstayhereverylong.Thefortune-tellingtentisclosedtodaybecauseCountOlafandMadameLuluarerunningthatimportanterrand.”ThemiddleBaudelairedidnotneedtoaddthatitwouldbeagoodtimetosneakintothetentandfindoutifLulu’scrystalballreallyheldtheanswerstheywereseeking.

“Why do you care if Lulu’s tent is closed?” Colette asked. “You’re a freak, not afortuneteller.”

“Andwhydon’tyouwanttostayhere?”Kevinasked.“CaligariCarnivalhasn’tbeenverypopularlately,butthere’snowhereelseforafreaktogo.”

“Ofcourse there is,”Violet said.“Lotsofpeopleareambidextrous,Kevin.Thereareambidextrousflorists,andambidextrousair-trafficcontrollers,andallsortsofthings.”

“Youreallythinkso?”Kevinasked.

“OfcourseIdo,”Violetsaid.“Andit’s thesamewithcontortionistsandhunchbacks.Allofuscouldfindsomeothertypeofjobwherepeopledidn’tthinkwewerefreakishatall.”

“I’mnotsurethat’strue,”Hugocalledoverfromthestove.“Ithinkthatatwo-headedpersonisgoingtobeconsideredprettyfreakishnomatterwheretheygo.”

“Andit’sprobablythesamewithanambidextrousperson,”Kevinsaidwithasigh.

“Let’s try to forgetour troublesandplaydominoes,”Hugosaid,bringingovera traywith six steamingmugs of hot chocolate. “I thought both of your headsmightwant todrinkseparately,”heexplainedwithasmile,“particularlybecausethishotchocolateisalittlebitunusual.ChabotheWolfBabyaddedalittlebitofcinnamon.”

“Chaboaddedit?”Klausaskedwithsurprise,asSunnygrowledmodestly.

“Yes,”Hugosaid.“Atfirst I thought itwassomefreakywolfrecipe,but it’sactuallyquitetasty.”

“That was a clever idea, Chabo,”Klaus said, and gave his sister a squinty smile. ItseemedonlyalittlewhileagothattheyoungestBaudelairecouldn’twalk,andwassmallenoughtofit insideabirdcage,andnowshewasdevelopingherowninterests,andwasbigenoughtoseemhalfwolf.

“Youshouldbeveryproudofyourself,”Hugoagreed.“Ifyouweren’tafreak,Chabo,youcouldgrowuptobeanexcellentchef.”

“She could be a chef anyway,” Violet said. “Elliot, would you mind if we stepped

outsidetoenjoyourhotchocolate?”

“That’sagoodidea,”Klaussaidquickly.“I’vealwaysconsideredhotchocolatetobeanoutdoorbeverage,andI’dliketotakeapeekinthegiftcaravan.”

“Grr,”Sunnygrowled,buthersiblingsknewshemeant“I’llcomewithyou,”andshecrawledovertowhereVioletandKlauswereawkwardlyrisingfromtheirchair.

“Don’tbetoolong,”Colettesaid.“We’renotsupposedtowanderaroundthecarnival.”

“We’lljustdrinkourhotchocolateandcomerightback,”Klauspromised.

“Ihopeyoudon’tgetintrouble,”Kevinsaid.“Ihatetothinkofthetagliatellegrandehittingbothofyourheads.”

TheBaudelaireswere just about to point out that a blow from the tagliatelle grandeprobablywouldn’t hurt one bit,when they heard a noisewhichwas farmore fearsomethan a largenoodlewaving in the air.Even from inside the caravan, the children couldhearaloud,creakynoisetheyrecognizedfromtheirlongtripintothehinterlands.

“That sounds like that gentleman friend ofMadameLulu’s,”Hugo said. “That’s thesoundofhiscar.”

“There’sanothersound,too,”Colettesaid.“Listen.”

The children listened and heard that the contortionist had spoken the truth.Accompanying the roar of the engine was another roar, one that sounded deeper andangrier thananyautomobile.TheBaudelairesknewthatyoucannot judgesomethingbyitssoundanymorethanyoucanjudgeapersonbythewaytheylook,butthisroarwassoloudandfiercethattheyoungsterscouldnotimaginethatitbroughtgoodnews.

HereImustinterruptthestoryIamwriting,andtellyouanotherstoryinordertomakean importantpoint.Thissecondstory is fictional,awordwhichheremeans“somebodymadeituponeday,”asopposedtothestoryoftheBaudelaireorphans,whichsomebodymerelywrote down, usually at night. It is called “TheStory ofQueenDebbie andHerBoyfriend,Tony,”anditgoessomethinglikethis:

TheStoryofQueenDebbieandherboyfriend,Tony.Onceuponatime, therelivedafictional queen named Queen Debbie, who ruled over the land where this story takesplace,which ismadeup.Thisfictional landhad lollipop treesgrowingeverywhere,andsinging mice that did all of the chores, and there were fierce and fictional lions whoguardedthepalaceagainstfictionalenemies.QueenDebbiehadaboyfriendnamedTony,wholivedintheneighboringfictionalkingdom.Becausetheylivedsofaraway,DebbieandTonycouldn’tseeeachotherthatoften,butoccasionallytheywouldgoouttodinnerand amovie, or do other fictional things together. Tony’s birthday arrived, and QueenDebbiehadsomeroyalbusinessandcouldn’t travel toseehim,butshesenthimanicecardandamynabirdinashinycage.Theproperthingtodoifyoureceiveapresent,ofcourse, is towritea thank-younote,butTonywasnotaparticularlyproperperson,andCalledDebbietocomplain.

“Debbie,thisisTony,”Tonysaid.“Igotthebirthdaypresentyousentme,andIdon’tlikeitatall.”

“I’msorry tohear that,”QueenDebbiesaid,pluckinga lollipopoffanearby tree.“Ipickedoutthemynabirdespeciallyforyou.Whatsortofpresentwouldyouprefer?”

“I thinkyou shouldgiveme a bunchof valuable diamonds,” saidTony,whowas asgreedyashewasfictional“Diamonds?”QueenDebbiesaid.“Butmynabirdscancheeryouupwhenyouaresad.Youcan teach them tositonyourhand,andsometimes theyeventalk.”

“Iwantdiamonds,”Tonysaid.

“But diamonds are sovaluable,”QueenDebbie said. “If I sendyoudiamonds in themail, they’ll probably get stolen on their way to you, and then you won’t have anybirthdaypresentatall.”

“Iwantdiamonds,”whinedTony,whowasreallybecomingquitetiresome.

“IknowwhatI’lldo,”QueenDebbiesaidwithafaintsmile.“I’llfeedmydiamondstothe royal lions, and then send the lions to your kingdom.No onewould dare attack abunchoffiercelions,sothediamondsaresuretoarrivesafely.”

“Hurryup,”Tonysaid.“It’ssupposedtobemyspecialday.”

ItwaseasyforQueenDebbietohurryup,becausethesingingmicewholivedinherpalacedidallofthenecessarychores,soitonlytookafewminutesforhertofeedabunchofdiamondstoherlions,wrappingthejewelsintunafishfirstsothelionswouldagreetoeatthem.Thensheinstructedthelionstotraveltotheneighboringkingdomtodeliverthepresent.

Tonywaitedimpatientlyoutsidehishousefortherestoftheday,eatingalloftheicecreamand cake and teasinghismynabird, and finally, at just about sunset, he saw thelionsapproachingonthehorizonandranovertocollecthispresent.

“Giveme thosediamonds,youstupid lions!”Tonycried,and there isnoneed to tellyoutherestofthisstory,whichhastheratherobviousmoral“Neverlookagiftlioninthemouth.”The point is that there are timeswhere the arrival of a bunch of lions is goodnews,particularlyinafictionalstorywherethelionsarenotrealandsoprobablywillnothurtyou.Therearesomecases,asinthecaseofQueenDebbieandherboyfriend,Tony,wherethearrivaloflionsmeansthatthestoryisabouttogetmuchbetter.

ButIamsadtosaythatthecaseoftheBaudelaireorphansisnotoneofthosetimes.ThestoryoftheBaudelairesdoesnottakeplaceinafictionallandwherelollipopsgrowontreesandsingingmicedoallofthechores.ThestoryoftheBaudelairestakesplaceinavery real world, where some people are laughed at just because they have somethingwrong with them, and where children can find themselves all alone in the world,struggling tounderstand thesinistermystery that surrounds them,and in this realworldthearrivaloflionsmeansthatthestoryisabouttogetmuchworse,andifyoudonothaveastomachforsuchastory–anymorethanlionshaveastomachfordiamondsnotcoatedintuna fish–itwouldbebest ifyou turnedaroundrightnowand ran theotherway,as theBaudelaireswished theycouldas theyexited thecaravanandsawwhatCountOlafhadbroughtwithhimwhenhereturnedfromhiserrand.

CountOlafdrovehisblackautomobilebetween therowsofcaravans,nearly running

overseveralvisitorstothecarnival,stoppedrightatthetentfortheHouseofFreaks,andturnedoff theengine,whichended thecreakyroar thechildrenhadrecognized.But theother, angrier roarcontinuedasOlafgotoutof thecar, followedbyMadameLulu,andpointedwith a flourish to a trailer thatwas attached to the rear of the automobile.Thetrailerwas reallymoreofametal cageonwheels, and through thebarsof thecage theBaudelairescouldseewhatthevillainwaspointingat.

Thetrailerwasfilledwithlions,packedinsotightlythatthechildrencouldn’ttelljusthowmanytherewere.Thelionswereunhappytobetravelinginsuchtightquarters,andwere showing their unhappinessby scratching at the cagewith their claws, snapping atone another with their long teeth, and roaring as loudly and as fiercely as they could.Some of Count Olaf’s henchmen gathered around, along with several visitors to thecarnival,toseewhatwasgoingon,andOlaftriedtosaysomethingtothem,butcouldn’tbeheardoverthelions’roars.Frowning,thevillainremovedawhipfromhispocketandwhippedatthelionsthroughthetrailerbars.Likepeople,animalswillbecomefrightenedand likely dowhatever you say if youwhip themenough, and the lions finally quieteddownsoOlafcouldmakehisannouncement.

“Ladiesandgentlemen,”he said, “boysandgirls, freaksandnormalpeople,CaligariCarnivalisproudtoannouncethearrivalofthesefiercelions,whowillbeusedinanewattraction.”

“That’s good news,” said someone in the crowd, “because the souvenirs in the giftcaravanareprettylousy.”

“Itisgoodnews,”CountOlafagreedwithasnarl,andturnedtofacetheBaudelaires.His eyes were shining very brightly, and the siblings shivered in their disguises as helooked at the children and then at the gathering crowd. “Things are about to getmuchbetteraroundhere,”hesaid,andtheBaudelaireorphansknewthatthiswasasfictionalasanythingtheycouldimagine.

andexperiencingthequeasyfeelingofdéjà.

“These lions are going to be the most exciting thing at Caligari Carnival!” Olafannounced,asmoreandmorepeopledrewnear toseewhatall thefusswasabout.“Asyou all know, unless you are incredibly dim-witted, a stubbornmule will move in theproperdirectionifthereisacarrotinfrontofit,andastickbehindit.Itwillmovetowardthecarrot,becauseitwantstherewardoffood,andawayfromthestick,becauseitdoesnotwantthepunishmentofpain.Andtheselionswilldothesame.”

“What’sgoingon?”Hugoaskedthechildren,walkingoutofthecaravanwithColetteandKevinclosebehind.

“Déjà,” Sunny said bitterly. Even the youngest Baudelaire recognized Count Olaf’scruel speech about the stubbornmule fromwhen the three children had been living inOlaf’s house.Back then, the villain had talked about a stubbornmule in order to forceViolettomarryhim,aplotthatthankfullyhadbeenfoiledatthelastminute,butnowhewas using the very samewords to cook up another scheme, and it gave the siblings aqueasyfeelingtowatchithappen.

“These lions,” Count Olaf said, “will do as I say, because they want to avoid thepunishment of thiswhip!”With a flourish, he flicked hiswhip at the lions again,whocoweredbehindthebars,andsomeofthevisitorstothecarnivalapplauded.

“Butifthewhipisthestick,”askedthebaldman,“whatisthecarrot?”

“Thecarrot?”Olafrepeated,andlaughedinaparticularlynastyway.“Therewardforthelionswhoobeymewillbeadeliciousmeal.Lionsarecarnivorous,whichmeanstheyeatmeat,andhereatCaligariCarnivalthey’llhavethefinestmeatwehavetooffer.”Heturnedandpointedhiswhipattheentrancetothefreaks’caravan,wheretheBaudelaireswerestandingwiththeircoworkers.“Thefreaksyouseeherearen’tnormalpeople,andsotheyleaddepressinglives,”heannounced.“They’llbehappytoexhibitthemselvesinthenameofentertainment.”

“Ofcoursewewill,”Colettesaid.“Wedoiteveryday.”

“Thenyouwon’tmindbeing themost importantpartof the lionshow,”Olaf replied.“We’renotgoingtofeedtheselionsregularmeals,sothey’llbevery,veryhungrybythetimetheshowbegins.Eachday,insteadofashowattheHouseofFreaks,we’llrandomlychooseonefreakandwatchthelionsdevourthem.”

Everyonecheeredagain,exceptforHugo,Colette,Kevin,andthethreesiblings,whoallstoodinhorrifiedsilence.

“Thatwillbeexciting!”saidthemanwithpimplesonhisface.“Justthink–violenceandsloppyeatingcombinedinonefabulousshow!”

“I couldn’t agree more!” said a woman who was standing nearby. “It was hilariouswatching that two-headed freak eat, but it’ll be even more hilarious watching the twoheadedfreakgeteaten!

“I’dprefertowatchthehunchbackgeteaten,”saidsomeoneelseinthecrowd.“He’ssofunny!Hedoesn’tevenhavearegularback!”

“Thefunstartstomorrowafternoon!”CountOlafcried.“Seeyouthen!”

“I can’t wait,” said the woman, as the crowd began to disperse, a wordwhich heremeans“walkoff topurchase souvenirsor leave thecarnival.” “I’mgoing to tell allmyfriends.”

“I’m going to call that reporter at TheDaily Punctilio,” themanwith pimples said,headingtowardthephonebooth.“Thiscarnivalisabouttogetverypopular,andmaybethey’llwriteanarticleaboutit.”

“You were right, boss,” said the hook-handed man. “Things are about to get muchbetterhere.”

“Ofcoursehewas right,please,”MadameLulusaid.“He isbrilliantman,andbraveman,andgenerousman.Heisbrilliantforthinkingofthelionshow,please.Heisbravemanforhittinglionswithwhip,please.AndheisgenerousmanforgivinglionstoLulu.”

“Hegavethoselionstoyou?”askedasinistervoice.“Theywerepresents?”

Now thatmost of the carnival visitors haddeparted, theBaudelaires could seeEsméSqualorstepforwardfromthedoorwayofanothercaravanandwalktowardCountOlaf

andMadameLulu.Asshepassedthelions’trailer,sheranherenormousfingernailsalongthebars,and the lionswhimpered infear.“SoyougaveMadameLulusomelions,”shesaid.“Whatdidyougetme?”

CountOlafscratchedhisheadwithonescragglyhand,andlookedalittleembarrassed.

“Nothing,”headmitted.“Butyoucansharemywhip,ifyou’dlike.”

MadameLulu leanedover andgaveOlaf akisson thecheek. “Hegave lions tome,please,becauseIdidsuchwonderfulfortune-telling.”

“Youshouldhaveseenit,Esmé,”Olafsaid.“LuluandIenteredthefortune-tellingtentand turned out all the lights, and the crystal ball began to hum itsmagical hum.Then,magicallightningcrackledaboveus,andMadameLulutoldmetoconcentrateashardasIcould.WhileIclosedmyeyes,shegazedintohercrystalballandtoldmethatoneoftheBaudelaireparents isaliveandhidingin theMortmainMountains .Asa reward, Igavehertheselions.”

“SoMadameLuluneedsacarrot,too,eh?”thehook-handedmansaidwithalaugh.

“First thing tomorrow morning,” Olaf continued, “Madame Lulu will consult hercrystalballagain,andtellmewheretheBaudelairesare.”

EsméglaredatLulu.“Andwhatsortofgiftwillyougivethen,Olaf?”

“Be reasonable, my dear,” Count Olaf said to his girlfriend. “The lions will makeCaligariCarnivalmuchmore popular, soMadameLulu can devote her time to fortunetellingandgiveustheinformationweneedtofinallystealtheBaudelairefortune.”

“I hate to criticize,” Hugo said hesitantly, “but is there any way we can make thecarnival more popular without feeding us to the lions? I must confess that I’m a littlenervousaboutthatpart.”

“You heard the crowdwhen I told them about the new attraction,”CountOlaf said.“Theycouldn’twaittoseethelionsdevouryou,andallofusneedtodoourparttogivepeoplewhattheywant.Yourpartistoreturntothefreaks’caravanuntil tomorrow.Andtherestofuswilldoourpartandstartdiggingthepit.”

“Pit?”oneofthewhite-facedwomenasked.“Whatdoweneedapitfor?”

“To keep the lions in,”Olaf replied, “so they only eatwhichever freak jumps downthere.Let’sdigitoverbytherollercoaster.”

“Goodidea,boss,”thebaldmansaid.

“Thereareshovelsintoolcaravan,”Lulusaid.“Iwillshowyou,please.”

“I’mnotgoingtodigapit,”Esméannouncedastheotherswalkedaway.“Imightbreakanail.Besides,IneedtotalktoCountOlaf–alone.”

“Oh, all right,” Count Olaf said. “Let’s go in the guest caravanwhere wewon’t bedisturbed.”

OlafandEsméwalkedoffinonedirection,andMadameLululedthehenchmenintheother,leavingthethreechildrenalonewiththeircoworkers.

ASeriesofUnfortunateEvents9-TheCarnivorousCarnival

“Well,we’dbettergoinside,”Colettesaid.“Maybewecanthinkofawaynot togeteaten.”

“Oh,let’snotthinkaboutthosefearsomecreatures,”Hugosaidwithashudder.“Let’splayanothergameofdominoesinstead.”

“Chabo,myother head, and Iwill be along in amoment,”Violet said. “Wewant tofinishourhotchocolate.”

“Youmightaswellenjoyit,”Kevinsaidglumly,followingHugoandColettebackintothefreaks’caravan.“Itmightturnouttobethelasthotchocolateyoueverdrink.”

Kevinshutthedoorwithbothhands,andtheBaudelairessteppedfartherawayfromthecaravansotheycouldtalkwithoutbeingoverheard.

“Adding cinnamon to hot chocolate is a terrific idea, Sunny,” Violet said, “but I’mhavingtroubleenjoyingit.”

“Ificat,”Sunnysaid,whichmeant“Metoo.”

“CountOlaf’slatestschemeleavesabadtasteinmymouth,”Klaussaid,“andIdon’tthinkcinnamonwillhelp.”

“Wehavetoget into thatfortune-tellingtent,”Violetsaid,“andthismaybeouronlychance.”

“Doyouthinkit’sreallytrue?”Klausasked.“DoyouthinkMadameLulureallysawsomethinginhercrystalball?”

“Idon’tknow,”Violetsaid,“butIdoknowfrommystudiesofelectricitythatlightningcan’tappearinsideatent.Somethingmysteriousisgoingon,andweneedtofindoutwhatitis.”

“Chow!”Sunnysaid,whichmeant“Beforewe’rethrowntothelions!”

“Butdoyouthinkit’sreal?”Klausasked.

“I don’t know,” Violet said testily, a word which here means “in her regular voice,forgetting her disguise because she was becoming very frustrated and upset.” “I don’tknow ifMadameLulu is a fortune-teller. I don’t know howCountOlaf alway