A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Miserable Mill (3 page)

Chapter Five

In the days that followed, the Baudelaire orphans had pits in their stomachs. In Sunny's case it was understandable, because when Klaus had divided up the peach, she had gotten the part with the pit. Normally, of course, one does not eat the pit part of the peach, but Sunny was very hungry, and liked to eat hard things, so the pit ended up in her stomach along with the parts of the fruit that you or I might find more suitable. But the pit in the Baudelaire stomachs was not so much from the snack that Charles had given them but from an overall feeling of doom. They were certain that Count Olaf was lurking nearby, like some predator waiting to pounce on the children while they weren't looking. So each morning, when Foreman Flacutono clanged his pots together to wake everyone up, the Baudelaires took a good look at him to see if Count Olaf had taken his place. It would have been just like Count Olaf to put a white wig on his head and a surgical mask over his face, and snatch the Baudelaires right out of their bunk. But Foreman Flacutono always had the same dark and beady eyes, which didn't look a thing like Count Olaf's shiny ones, and he always spoke in his rough, muffled voice, which was the opposite of the smooth, snarly voice of Count Olaf. When the children walked across the dirt-floored courtyard to the lumbermill, they took a good look at their fellow employees. It would have been just like Count Olaf to get himself hired as an employee, and snatch the orphans away while Foreman Flacutono wasn't looking. But although all the workers looked tired, and sad, and hungry, none of them looked evil, or greedy, or had such awful manners. And as the orphans performed the backbreak-ing labor of the lumbermill, the word "back-breaking" here means "so difficult and tiring that it felt like the orphans' backs were breaking, even though they actually weren't", they wondered if Count Olaf would use one of the enormous machines to somehow get his hands on their fortune. But that didn't seem to be the case, either. After a few days of tearing the bark off the trees, the debarkers were put back in their corner, and the giant pincher machine was turned off. Next, the workers had to pick up the barkless trees themselves, one by one, and hold them against the buzzing circular saw until it had sliced each tree into flat boards. The youngsters' arms were soon achy and covered in splinters from lifting all of the logs, but Count Olaf did not take advantage of their weakened arms to kidnap them. After a few days of sawing, Foreman Flacutono ordered Phil to start up the machine with the enormous ball of string inside. The machine wrapped the string around small bundles of boards, and the employees had to gather around and tie the string into very complicated knots, to hold the bundles together. The siblings' fingers were soon so sore that they could scarcely hold the coupons they were given each day, but Count Olaf did not try to force them to surrender their fortune. Day after dreary day went by, and although the children were convinced that he must be somewhere nearby, Count Olaf simply did not show up. It was very puzzling. "It is very puzzling," Violet said one day, during their gum break. "Count Olaf is simply nowhere to be found." "I know," Klaus said, rubbing his right thumb, which was the sorest. "That building looks like his tattoo, and so does that book cover. But Count Olaf himself hasn't shown his face." "Elund!" Sunny said thoughtfully. She probably meant something like "It is certainly perplexing." Violet snapped her fingers, frowning because it hurt. "I've thought of something," she said. "Klaus, you just said he hasn't shown his face. Maybe he's Sir, in disguise. We can't tell what Sir really looks like because of that cloud of smoke. Count Olaf could have dressed in a green suit and taken up smoking just to fool us." "I thought of that, too," Klaus said. "But he's much shorter than Count Olaf, and I don't know how you can disguise yourself as a much shorter person." "Chorn!" Sunny pointed out, which meant something like "And his voice sounds nothing like Count Olaf's." "That's true," Violet said, and gave Sunny a small piece of wood that was sitting on the floor. Because babies should not have gum, Sunny's older siblings gave her these small tree scraps during the lunch break. Sunny did not eat the wood, of course, but she chewed on it and pretended it was a carrot, or an apple, or a beef and cheese enchilada, all of which she loved. "It might just be that Count Olaf hasn't found us," Klaus said. "After all, Paltryville is in the middle of nowhere. It could take him years to track us down." "Pelli!" Sunny exclaimed, which meant something like "But that doesn't explain the eye-shaped building, or the cover of the book!" "Those things could just be coincidence," Violet admitted. "We're so scared of Count Olaf that maybe we're just thinking we're seeing him everywhere. Maybe he won't show up. Maybe we really are safe here." "That's the spirit," said Phil, who had been sitting near them all this time. "Look on the bright side. Lucky Smells Lumbermill might not be your favorite place, but at least there's no sign of this Olaf guy you keep talking about. This might turn out to be the most fortunate part of your lives." "I admire your optimism," Klaus said, smiling at Phil. "Me too," Violet said. "Tenpa," Sunny agreed. "That's the spirit," Phil said again, and stood up to stretch his legs. The Baudelaire orphans nodded, but looked at one another out of the corners of their eyes. It was true that Count Olaf hadn't shown up, or at least he hadn't shown up yet. But their situation was far from fortunate. They had to wake up to the clanging of pots, and be ordered around by Foreman Flacutono. They only had gum or, in Sunny's case, imaginary enchiladas for lunch. And worst of all, working in the lumbermill was so exhausting that they didn't have the energy to do anything else. Even though she was near complicated machines every day, Violet hadn't even thought about inventing something for a very long time. Even though Klaus was free to visit Charles's library whenever he wanted to, he hadn't even glanced at any of the three books. And even though there were plenty of hard things around to bite, Sunny hadn't closed her mouth around more than a few of them. The children missed studying reptiles with Uncle Monty. They missed living over Lake Lachrymose with Aunt Josephine. And most of all, of course, they missed living with their parents, which was where, after all, they truly belonged. "Well," Violet said, after a pause, "we'll only have to work here for a few years. Then I will be of age, and we can use some of the Baudelaire fortune. I'd like to build an inventing studio for myself, perhaps over Lake Lachrymose, where Aunt Josephine's house used to be, so we can always remember her." "And I'd like to build a library," Klaus said, "that would be open to the public. And I've always hoped that we could buy back Uncle Monty's reptile collection, and take care of all the reptiles." "Dole!" Sunny shrieked, which meant "And I could be a dentist!" "What in the world does 'Dole' mean?" The orphans looked up and saw that Charles had come into the lumbermill. He was smiling at them and taking something out of his pocket. "Hello, Charles," Violet said. "It's nice to see you. What have you been up to?" "Ironing Sir's shirts," Charles answered. "He has a lot of shirts, and he's too busy to iron them himself. I've been meaning to come by, but the ironing took a long time. I brought you some beef jerky. I was afraid to take more than a little bit, because Sir would know that it was missing, but here you go." "Thank you very much," Klaus said politely. "We'll share this with the other employees." "Well, O.K.," Charles said, "but last week they got a coupon for thirty percent off beef jerky, so they probably bought plenty of it." "Maybe they did," Violet said, knowing full well that there was no way any of the workers could afford beef jerky. "Charles, we've been meaning to ask you about one of the books in your library. You know the one with the eye on the cover? Where did you..." Violet's question was interrupted by the sound of Foreman Flacutono's pots being banged together. "Back to work!" he shouted. "Back to work! We have to finish tying the bundles today, so there's no time for chitchat!" "I would just like to talk to these children for a few more minutes, Foreman Flacutono," Charles said. "Surely we can extend the lunch break just a little bit." "Absolutely not!" Foreman Flacutono said, striding over to the orphans. "I have my orders from Sir, and I intend to carry them out. Unless you'd like to tell Sir that?" "Oh, no," Charles said quickly, backing away from Foreman Flacutono. "I don't think that's necessary." "Good," the foreman said shortly. "Now get up, midgets! Lunch is over!" The children sighed and stood up. They had long ago given up trying to convince Foreman Flacutono that they weren't midgets. They waved good-bye to Charles, and walked slowly to the waiting bundle of boards, with Foreman Flacutono walking behind them, and at that moment one of the children had a trick played on him which I hope has never been played on you. This trick involves sticking your foot out in front of a person who is walking, so the person trips and falls on the ground. A policeman did it to me once, when I was carrying a crystal ball belonging to a Gypsy fortune-teller who never forgave me for tumbling to the ground and shattering her ball into hundreds of pieces. It is a mean trick, and it is easy to do, and I'm sorry to say that Foreman Flacutono did it to Klaus right at this moment. Klaus fell right to the ground of the lumbermill, his glasses falling off his face and skittering over to the bundle of boards. "Hey!" Klaus said. "You tripped me!" One of the most annoying aspects of this sort of trick is that the person who does it usually pretends not to know what you're talking about. "I don't know what you're talking about," Foreman Flacutono said. Klaus was too annoyed to argue. He stood up, and Violet walked over to fetch his glasses. But when she leaned over to pick them up, she saw at once that something was very, very wrong. "Rotup!" Sunny shrieked, and she spoke the truth. When Klaus's glasses had skittered across the room, they had scraped against the floor and hit the boards rather hard. Violet picked the glasses up, and they looked like a piece of modern sculpture a friend of mine made long ago. The sculpture was called Twisted, Cracked, and Hopelessly Broken. "My brother's glasses!" Violet cried. "They're twisted, and cracked! They're hopelessly broken, and he can scarcely see anything without them!" "Too bad for you," Foreman Flacutono said, shrugging at Klaus. "Oh, don't be ridiculous," Charles said. "He needs a replacement pair, Foreman Flacutono. A child could see that." "Not me," Klaus said. "I can scarcely see anything." "Well, take my arm," Charles said. "There's no way you can work in a lumbermill without being able to see what you're doing. I'll take you to the eye doctor right away." "Oh, thank you," Violet said, relieved. "Is there an eye doctor nearby?" Klaus asked. "Oh yes," Charles replied. "The closest one is Dr. Orwell, who wrote that book you were talking about. Dr. Orwell's office is just outside the doors of the mill. I'm sure you noticed it on your way hereit's made to look like a giant eye. Come on, Klaus." "Oh, no, Charles!" Violet said. "Don't take him there!" Charles cupped a hand to his ear. "What did you say?" he shouted. Phil had flipped a switch on the string machine, and the ball of string had begun to spin inside its cage, making a loud whirring sound as the employees got back to work. "That building has the mark of Count Olaf!" Klaus shouted, but Foreman Flacutono had begun to clang his pots together, and Charles shook his head to indicate he couldn't hear. "Yoryar!" Sunny shrieked, but Charles just shrugged and led Klaus out of the mill. The two Baudelaire sisters looked at one another. The whirring sound continued, and Foreman Flacutono kept on clanging his pots, but that wasn't the loudest sound that the two girls heard. Louder than the machine, louder than the pots, was the sound of their own furiously beating hearts as Charles took their brother away.

Chapter Six

"I tell you, you have nothing to worry about," Phil said, as Violet and Sunny picked at their casserole. It was dinnertime, but Klaus had still not returned from Dr. Orwell's, and the young Baudelaire women were worried sick. After work, while walking across the dirty courtyard with their fellow employees, Violet and Sunny had peered worriedly at the wooden gate that led out to Paltryville, and were dismayed to see no sign of Klaus. When they arrived at the dormitory, Violet and Sunny looked out the window to watch for him, and they were so anxious that it took them several minutes to realize that the window was not a real one, but one drawn on the blank wall with a ballpoint pen. Then they went out and sat on the doorstep, looking out at the empty courtyard, until Phil called them in to supper. And now it was getting on toward bedtime, and not only had their brother still not returned, but Phil was insisting that they had nothing to worry about. "I think we do, Phil," Violet said. "I think we do have something to worry about. Klaus has been gone all afternoon, and Sunny and I are worried that something might have happened to him. Something awful." "Becer!" Sunny agreed. "I know that doctors can seem scary to young children," Phil said, "but doctors are your friends, and they can't hurt you." Violet looked at Phil and saw that their conversation would go nowhere. "You're right," she said tiredly, even though he was quite wrong. As anyone who's ever been to a doctor knows, doctors are not necessarily your friends, any more than mail deliverers are your friends, or butchers are your friends, or refrigerator repair-people are your friends. A doctor is a man or woman whose job it is to make you feel better, that's all, and if you've ever had a shot you know that the statement "Doctors can't hurt you" is simply absurd. Violet and Sunny, of course, were worried that Dr. Orwell had some connection with Count Olaf, not that their brother would get a shot, but it was useless to try to explain such things to an optimist. So they merely picked at their casserole and waited for their brother until it was time for bed. "Dr. Orwell must have fallen behind in his appointments," Phil said, as Violet and Sunny tucked themselves into the bottom bunk. "His waiting room must be absolutely full." "Suski," Sunny said sadly, which meant something along the lines of "I hope so, Phil." Phil smiled at the two Baudelaires and turned out the lights in the dormitory. The employees whispered to each other for a few minutes, and then were quiet, and before too long Violet and Sunny were surrounded by the sound of snores. The children did not sleep, of course, but stared out into the dark room with a growing feeling of dismay. Sunny made a squeaky, sad noise, like the closing of a door, and Violet took her sister's fingers, which were sore from tying knots all day long, and blew on them gently. But even as the Baudelaire fingers felt better, the Baudelaire sisters did not. They lay together on the bunk and tried to imagine where Klaus could be and what was happening to him. But one of the worst things about Count Olaf is that his evil ways are so despicable that it is impossible to imagine what would be up his sleeve next. Count Olaf had done so many horrible deeds, all to get his hands on the Baudelaire fortune, that Violet and Sunny could scarcely bear to think what might be happening to their brother. The evening grew later and later, and the two siblings began to imagine more and more terrible things that could be happening to Klaus while they lay helpless in the dormitory. "Stintamcunu," Sunny whispered finally, and Violet nodded. They had to go and look for him. The expression "quiet as mice" is a puzzling one, because mice can often be very noisy, so people who are being quiet as mice may in fact be squeaking and scrambling around. The expression "quiet as mimes" is more appropriate, because mimes are people who perform theatrical routines without making a sound. Mimes are annoying and embarrassing, but they are much quieter than mice, so "quiet as mimes" is a more proper way to describe how Violet and Sunny got up from their bunk, tiptoed across the dormitory, and walked out into the night. There was a full moon that night, and the children gazed for a moment at the quiet courtyard. The moonlight made the dirt floor look as strange and eerie as the surface of the moon. Violet picked Sunny up, and the two of them crossed the courtyard toward the heavy wooden gate leading out of the lumbermill. The only sound was the soft shuffling of Violet's feet. The orphans could not remember when they had been in a place that felt so quiet and still, which is why the sudden creaking sound made them jump in surprise. The creaking sound was as noisy as mice, and seemed to be coming from straight ahead. Violet and Sunny stared out into the gloom, and with another creak the wooden gate swung open and revealed the short figure of a person, walking slowly toward them. "Klaus!" Sunny said, for one of the few regular words she used was the name of her brother. And to her relief, Violet saw that it was indeed Klaus who was walking toward them. He had on a new pair of glasses that looked just like his old ones, except they were so new that they shone in the moonlight. He gave his sisters a dazed and distant smile, as if they were people he did not know so well. "Klaus, we were so worried about you," Violet said, hugging her brother as he reached them. "You were gone for so long. Whatever happened to you?" "I don't know," Klaus said, so quietly that his sisters had to lean forward to hear him. "I can't remember." "Did you see Count Olaf?" Violet asked. "Was Dr. Orwell working with him? Did they do anything to you?" "I don't know," Klaus said, shaking his head. "I remember breaking my glasses, and I remember Charles taking me to the eye-shaped building. But I don't remember anything else. I scarcely remember where I am right now." "Klaus, " Violet said firmly, "you are at the Lucky Smells Lumbermill in Paltryville. Surely you remember that." Klaus did not answer. He merely looked at his sisters with wide, wide eyes, as if they were an interesting aquarium or a parade. "Klaus?" Violet asked. "I said, you are at the Lucky Smells Lumbermill. " Klaus still did not answer. "He must be very tired," Violet said to Sunny. "Libu," Sunny said doubtfully. "You'd better get to bed, Klaus," Violet said. "Follow me." At last, Klaus spoke. "Yes, sir," he said, quietly. "Sir?" Violet repeated. "I'm not a sir, I'm your sister!" But Klaus was silent once more, and Violet gave up. Still carrying Sunny, she walked back toward the dormitory, and Klaus shuffled behind her. The moon shone on his new glasses, and his steps made little clouds of dirt, but he didn't say a word. Quiet as mimes, the Baudelaires walked back into the dormitory and tiptoed to their bunk bed. But when they reached it, Klaus merely stood nearby and stared at his two siblings, as if he had forgotten how to go to bed. "Lie down, Klaus," Violet said gently. "Yes, sir," Klaus replied, and lay down on the bottom bunk, still staring at his sisters. Violet sat on the edge of the bunk and removed Klaus's shoes, which he had forgotten to take off, but it seemed that he did not even notice. "We'll discuss things in the morning," Violet whispered. "In the meantime, Klaus, try to get some sleep." "Yes, sir," Klaus said, and immediately shut his eyes. In a second he was fast asleep. Violet and Sunny watched the way his mouth quivered, just as it had always done when he was asleep, ever since he was a tiny baby. It was a relief to have Klaus back with them, of course, but the Baudelaire sisters did not feel relieved, not one bit. They had never seen their brother act so strangely. For the rest of the night, Violet and Sunny huddled together on the top bunk, peering down and watching Klaus sleep. No matter how much they looked at him, it still felt like their brother had not returned.