"Easy," said Sunny, pointing to her teeth.
"All the caravans are on wheels," Klaus said. "Would it be easier to hitch up one of the caravans to the lightning device?"
"A caravan is too big," Violet replied. "If you wanted to move a caravan, you'd have to attach it to an automobile, or several horses.
We'll be lucky if I can rebuild the carts' engines. Madame Lulu said that they were rusted away."
"It seems like we're hitching our hopes to a risky plan," Klaus said, tearing away at a few strands of ivy with the one arm he could use. "But I suppose it's no more risky than plenty of other things we've done, like stealing a sailboat."
"Or climbing up an elevator shaft," Violet said.
"Whaque," Sunny said, with her mouth full of plants, and her siblings knew she meant something along the lines of, "Or pretending to be surgeons."
"Actually," Violet said, "maybe this plan isn't so risky after all. Look at the axles on this cart."
"Axles?" Klaus asked.
"The rods that hold the wheels in place," she explained, pointing to the bottom of the cart. "They're in perfect condition. That's good news, because we need these wheels to carry us a long way." The eldest Baudelaire looked up from her work and gazed out at the horizon. To the east, the sun was rising, and soon its rays would reflect off the mirrors positioned in the fortune-telling tent, but to the north, she could see the Mortmain Mountains rising up in odd square shapes, more like a staircase than a mountain range, with patches of snow on the higher places, and the top steps covered in a thick, gray fog. "It'll take a long time to get up there," she said, "and it doesn't look like there are a lot of repair shops on the way."
"I wonder what we'll find up there," Klaus said. "I've never been to the headquarters of something."
"Neither have I," Violet said. "Here, Klaus, lean down with me so I can look at the engine of this cart."
"If we knew more about V.F.D.," Klaus said, "we might know what to expect. How does the engine look?"
"Not too bad," Violet said. "Some of these pistons are completely rusted away, but I think I can replace them with these latches on the sides of the cart, and the lightning device will provide a fan belt. But we'll need something else — something like twine, or wire, to help connect the two carts."
"Ivy?" Sunny asked.
"Good idea, Sunny," Violet said. "The stems of the ivy feel solid enough. If you'll pluck the leaves off a few strands, you'd be a big help."
"What can I do?" Klaus asked.
"Help me turn the cart over," Violet said, "but watch where you put your feet. We don't want you falling into the pit."
"I don't want anyone falling into the pit," Klaus said. "You don't think the others will throw Madame Lulu to the lions, do you?"
"Not if we get this done in time," Violet said grimly. "See if you can help me bend the latch so it fits into that notch, Klaus. No, no — the other way. I just hope Esmé doesn't have them throw somebody else in when we all escape."
"She probably will," Klaus said, struggling with the latch. "I can't understand why Hugo, Colette, and Kevin want to join up with people who do such things."
"I guess they're just happy that anybody's treating them like normal people," Violet said, and glanced into the pit. One of the lions yawned, stretched its paws, and opened one sleepy eye, but seemed uninterested in the three children working nearby. "Maybe that's why the hook-handed man works for Count Olaf, or the bald man with the long nose. Maybe when they tried to work someplace else, everyone laughed at them."
"Or maybe they just like committing crimes," Klaus said.
"That's a possibility, too," Violet said, and then frowned at the bottom of the cart. "I wish I had Mother's tool kit," she said. "She had this tiny wrench I always admired, and it would be just perfect for this job."
"She'd probably be a better help than I am," Klaus said. "I can't make head or tail of what you're doing."
"You're doing fine," Violet said, "particularly if you consider that we're sharing a shirt. How are those ivy stems coming, Sunny?"
"Lesoint," Sunny replied, which meant "I'm nearly done."
"Good work," Violet said, peering at the sun. "I'm not sure how much time we have. Count Olaf is probably inside the fortune-telling tent by now, asking the crystal ball about our whereabouts. I hope Madame Lulu keeps her promise, and doesn't give him what he wants. Will you hand me that piece of metal on the ground, Klaus? It looks like it used to be part of the tracks, but I'm going to use it to make a steering device."
"I wish Madame Lulu could give us what we want," Klaus said, handing the piece to his sister. "I wish we could find out if one of our parents survived the fire, without wandering around a mountain range."
"Me, too," Violet said, "and even then we might not find them. They could be down here looking for us."
"Remember the train station?" Klaus said and Violet nodded.
"Esoobac," Sunny asked, handing over the ivy stems. By "Esoobac," she meant something like, "I don't remember," although there was no way she could have, as the youngest Baudelaire hadn't been born at the time her siblings were remembering. The Baudelaire family had decided to go away for the weekend to a vineyard, a word which here means "a sort of farm where people grow grapes used in wine." This vineyard was famous for having grapes that smelled delicious, and it was very pleasant to picnic in the fields, while the fragrance drifted in the air and the vineyard's famous donkeys, who helped carry bushels of grapes at harvesttime, slept in the shade of the grapevines. To reach the vineyard, the Baudelaires had to take not one train but two, transferring at a busy station not far from Paltryville, and on the day that Violet and Klaus were remembering, the children had been separated from their parents in the rush of the transferring crowd. Violet and Klaus, who were quite young, decided to search for their parents in the row of shops just outside the station, and soon the local shoemaker, blacksmith, chimney sweep, and computer technician were all helping the two frightened children look for their mother and father. Soon enough the Baudelaire family was reunited, but the children's father had taught them a serious lesson. "If you lose us," he said, "stay put."
"Yes," their mother agreed. "Don't go wandering around looking for us. We'll come and find you.'"
At the time, Violet and Klaus had solemnly agreed, but times had changed. When the Baudelaire parents had said "If you lose us," they were referring to times when the children might lose sight of them in a crowd, as they had at the train station that day, where I had lunch just a few weeks ago and talked to the shoemaker's son about what had happened. They were not referring to the way the Baudelaires had lost them now, in a deadly fire that it seemed had claimed at least one of their lives. There are times to stay put and what you want will come to you, and there are times to go out into the world and find such a thing for yourself. Like the Baudelaire orphans, I have found myself in places where staying put would be dangerously foolish, and foolishly dangerous. I have stood in a department store, and seen something written on a price tag that told me I had to leave at once, but in different clothing. I have sat in an airport, and heard something over the loudspeaker that told me I had to leave later that day, but on a different flight. And I have stood alongside the roller coaster at Caligari Carnival, and known what the Baudelaires could not possibly have known that quiet morning. I have looked at the carts, all melted together and covered in ash, and I have gazed into the pit dug by Count Olaf and his henchmen and seen all the burnt bones lying in a heap, and I have picked through the bits of mirror and crystal where the fortune-telling tent once stood, and all this research has told me the same thing, and if somehow I could slip back in time, as easily as I could slip out of the disguise I am in now, I would walk to the edge of that pit and tell the Baudelaire orphans the results of my findings. But of course I cannot. I can only fulfill my sacred duty and type this story as best I can, down to the last word.
"Worf," Sunny said, when the Baudelaires had finished telling her about the tra
in station. By "worf," she meant something along the lines of, "I don't think we should stay put. I think we should leave right now."
"We can't leave yet," Violet said. "The steering device is ready, and the carts are firmly attached to one another, but without a fan belt, the engine won't work. We'd better go to the fortune-telling tent and dismantle the lightning-device."
"Olaf?" Sunny asked.
"Let's hope that Madame Lulu has sent him on his way," Violet said, "otherwise we'll be cutting it close. We have to finish our invention before the show begins, otherwise everyone will see us get in the carts and leave."
There was a faint growl from the pit, and the children saw that most of the lions were awake and looking around crankily at their surroundings. Some of them were trying to pace around their cramped quarters, but they only managed to get in the way of other lions, which only made them crankier.
"Those lions look hungry," Klaus said. "I wonder if it's almost show time."
"Aklec," Sunny said, which meant "Let's move out," and the Baudelaires moved out, walking away from the roller coaster and toward the fortune-telling tent. As the children walked through the carnival, they saw that quite a few visitors had already arrived, and some of them giggled at the siblings as they made their way.
"Look!" one man said, pointing at the Baudelaires with a sneer. "Freaks! Let's be sure to go to the lion show later — one of them might get eaten."
"Oh, I hope so," said his companion. "I didn't come all the way out here to the hinterlands for nothing."
"The woman at the ticket booth told me that a journalist from The Daily Punctilio is here to report on who gets devoured," said another man, who was wearing a CALIGARI CARNIVAL T-shirt he had apparently purchased at the gift caravan.
"The Daily Punctilio!" cried the woman who was with him. "How exciting! I've been reading about those Baudelaire murderers for weeks. I just love violence!"
"Who doesn't?" the man replied. "Especially when it's combined with sloppy eating."
Just as the Baudelaires reached the fortune-telling tent, a man stepped in front of them and blocked their way. The children looked up at the pimples on his chin and recognized him as the very rude member of the audience at the House of Freaks.
"Why, look who's here," he said. "It's Chabo the Wolf Baby, and Beverly and Elliot, the two-headed freak."
"It's very nice to see you again," Violet said quickly. She tried to walk around him, but he grabbed the shirt she was sharing with her brother, and she had to stop so he wouldn't tear the shirt and reveal their disguise.
"What about your other head?" the pimpled man asked sarcastically. "Doesn't he think it's nice to see me?"
"Of course," Klaus said, "but we're in a bit of a hurry, so if you'll excuse us . . ."
"I don't excuse freaks," the man said. "There's no excuse for them. Why don't you wear a sack over one of your heads, so you look normal?"
"Grr!" Sunny said, baring her teeth at the man's knees.
"Please leave us alone, sir," Violet said "Chabo is very protective of us, and might bite you if you get too close."
"I bet Chabo's no match for a bunch of ferocious lions," the man said. "I can't wait until the show, and neither can my mother."
"That's right, dear," said a woman who was standing nearby. She stepped forward to give the pimpled man a big kiss, and the Baudelaires noticed that pimples seemed to run in the family. "What time does the show start, freaks?"
"The show starts right now!"
The pimpled man and his mother turned around to see who had spoken, but the Baudelaires did not have to look to know it was Count Olaf who had made the announcement. The villain was standing at the entrance to the fortune-telling tent with a whip in his hand and a particularly nasty gleam in his eye, both of which the siblings recognized. The whip, of course, was the one that Count Olaf used to encourage the lions to become ferocious, which the Baudelaires had seen the previous day, and the gleam was something they had seen more times than they could count. It was the sort of gleam someone might get in their eye when they were telling a joke, but when Olaf looked at people that way it usually meant that one of his schemes was succeeding brilliantly.
"The show starts right now!" he announced again to the people gathering around him. "I've just had my fortune told, so I've gotten what I wanted." Count Olaf pointed at the fortune-telling tent with his whip, and then turned around to point at the disguised Baudelaires as he grinned at the crowd. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time to go to the lion pit so we can give the rest of you what you want."
Chapter Ten
"I'm going to the pit right now!" cried a woman in the crowd. "I want to have a good view of the show!"
"So do I," said a man standing next to her. "There's no point in having lions eat somebody if you can't watch it happen."
"Well, we'd better hurry," said the man with pimples on his chin. "There's quite a crowd here."
The Baudelaire orphans looked around and saw that the pimpled man was speaking the truth.
News of Caligari Carnival's latest attraction must have spread far beyond the hinterlands, because there were many more visitors than yesterday, and there seemed to be more and more arriving every minute.
"I'll lead the way to the pit," announced Count Olaf. "After all, the lion show was my idea, so I should get to walk in front."
"It was your idea?" asked a woman the children recognized from their stay at Heimlich Hospital. She was wearing a gray suit, and chewing gum as she spoke into a microphone, and the siblings remembered that she was a reporter from The Daily Punctilio. "I'd love to write about it in the newspaper. What is your name?"
"Count Olaf!" Count Olaf said proudly.
"I can see the headline now: 'COUNT OLAF THINKS UP IDEA FOR LION SHOW,'" said the reporter. "Wait until the readers of The Daily Punctilio see that!"
"Wait a minute," someone said. "I thought Count Olaf was murdered by those three children."
"That was Count Omar," replied the reporter. "I should know. I've been writing about the Baudelaires for The Daily Punctilio. Count Omar was murdered by those three Baudelaire children, who still remain at large."
"Well, if anyone ever finds them," someone in the crowd said, "we'll throw them into the lion pit."
"An excellent idea," Count Olaf replied, "but in the meantime, the lions will have a meal of one delicious freak. Follow me, everyone, for an afternoon of violence and sloppy eating!"
"Hooray!" cried several members of the crowd, as Olaf took a bow and began to lead everyone in the direction of the ruined roller coaster where the lions were waiting.
"Come with me, freaks," Count Olaf ordered, pointing at the Baudelaires. "My assistants are bringing the others. We want all you freaks assembled for the choosing ceremony."
"I will bring them, my Olaf," Madame Lulu said in her disguised accent, emerging from the fortune-telling tent. When she saw the Baudelaires, her eyes widened, and she quickly held her hands behind her back. "You lead crowd to pit, please, and give interview to newspaper on way."
"Oh, yes," said the reporter. "I can see the headline now: 'EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH COUNT OLAF, WHO IS NOT COUNT OMAR, WHO IS DEAD.' Wait until the readers of The Daily Punctilio see that!"
"It will be exciting for people to read about me," Count Olaf said. "All right, I'll walk with the reporter, Lulu. But hurry up with the freaks."
"Yes, my Olaf," Madame Lulu said. "Come with me, freaky peoples, please."
Lulu held out her hands for the Baudelaires to take, as if she were their mother walking them across the street, instead of a fake fortune-teller leading them to a pit of lions. The children could see that one of Madame Lulu's palms had an odd streak of dirt on it, while the other hand was closed in an odd, tight fist. The children did not want to take those hands and walk toward the lion show, but there were so many people gathered around, eagerly expecting violence, that it seemed they had no other choice. Sunny grabbed ahold of Lulu's right hand, and Violet grabbed Lulu's le
ft, and they walked together in an awkward knot in the direction of the ruined roller coaster.
"Olivi — " Klaus started to say, but then looked around the crowd and realized it would be foolish to use her real name. "I mean, Madame Lulu," he corrected himself, and then leaned across Violet to speak as quietly as he could. "Let's walk as slowly as we can. Maybe we can find an opportunity to sneak back to the tent and dismantle the lightning device."
Madame Lulu did not answer, but merely shook her head slightly to indicate that it was not a good time to speak of such matters.
"Fan belt," Sunny reminded her, as quietly as she could, but Madame Lulu just shook her head.
"You kept your promise, didn't you?" Klaus murmured, scarcely above a whisper, but Madame Lulu stared ahead as if she had not heard. He nudged his older sister inside their shared shirt. "Violet," he said, scarcely daring to use her real name. "Ask Madame Lulu to walk more slowly."
Violet glanced briefly at Klaus, and then turned her head to catch Sunny's eye. The younger Baudelaires looked back at their sister and watched her shake her head slightly, just as Madame Lulu had, and then look down, where she was holding the fortune-teller's hand. Between two of Violet's fingers, Klaus and Sunny could see the tip of a small piece of rubber, which they recognized immediately. It was the part of Madame Lulu's lightning device that resembled a fan belt — the very thing Violet needed to turn the carts of the roller coaster into an invention that could carry the Baudelaires out of the hinterlands and up into the Mortmain Mountains. But instead of feeling hopeful as they looked at this crucial item in Violet's hand, all three Baudelaires felt something quite a bit less pleasant.
If you have ever experienced something that feels strangely familiar, as if the exact same thing has happened to you before, then you are experiencing what the French call "déjà vu." Like most French expressions — "ennui," which is a fancy term for severe boredom, or "la petite mort," which describes a feeling that part of you has died — "déjà vu" refers to something that is usually not very pleasant, and it was not pleasant for the Baudelaire orphans to arrive at the lion pit and experience the queasy feeling of déjà vu. When the children had been staying at Heimlich Hospital, they had found themselves in an operating theater, surrounded by a large crowd that was very eager to see something violent occur, such as an operation performed on someone. When the children were living in the town of V.F.D., they had found themselves in a field, surrounded by a large crowd eager to see something violent occur, such as the burning of someone at the stake. And now, as Madame Lulu let go of their hands, the children looked at the enormous and strangely familiar crowd towering over them at the ruined roller coaster. Once again, there were people eager for something violent to happen. Once again, the Baudelaires were afraid for their lives. And once again, it was all because of Count Olaf. The siblings looked past the cheering crowd at the two roller-coaster carts that Violet had adapted. All the invention needed was the fan belt, and the children could continue their search for one of the Baudelaire parents, but as Violet, Klaus, and Sunny looked across the pit at the two small carts joined with ivy and altered to travel across the hinterlands, they felt the queasiness of déjà vu and wondered if there was another unhappy ending in store for them.
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