outskirts of town, so there's no problem there. Are there any questions?'
'I have a question,' said the man in plaid pants. He stood up from his folding chair and pointed at the Baudelaires. 'Where are they going to live? It may take a village to raise a child, but that doesn't mean that our homes have to be disturbed by noisy children, does it?'
'Yes,' agreed Mrs. Morrow. 'I'm all for the orphans doing our chores, but I don't want them cluttering up my house.'
Several other townspeople spoke up. 'Hear, hear!' they said, using an expression which here means 'I don't want Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire to live with me, either!'
One of the oldest-looking Elders raised both his hands up in the air. 'Please,' he said. 'There is no reason for all this fuss. The children will live with Hector, our handyman. He will feed them, clothe them, and make sure they do all the chores, and he is responsible for teaching them all of the rules of V.F.D., so they won't do any more terrible things, such as talking while on the platform.'
'Thank goodness for that,' muttered the man in plaid pants.
'Now, Baudelaires,' said yet another member of the Council. She was sitting so far from the platform that she had to crane her head to look at the children, and her hat looked like it would fall off her head. 'Before Hector takes you to his house, I'm sure you have some concerns of your own. It's too bad you're not allowed to speak right now, otherwise you could tell us what they were. But Mr. Poe sent us some materials regarding this Count Olaf person.'
'Omar,' corrected Mrs. Morrow, pointing to the headline in the newspaper.
'Silence!' the Elder said. 'Now, Baudelaires, I'm sure you are very concerned about this Olaf fellow, but as your guardian, the town will protect you. That is why we have recently made up a new rule, Rule #19,833. It clearly states that no villains are allowed within the city limits.'
'Hear, hear!' the townspeople cried, and the Council of Elders nodded in appreciation, bobbing their crow- shaped hats.
'Now, if there are no more questions,' an Elder concluded, 'Hector, please take the Baudelaires off the platform and take them to your house.'
Still keeping his eyes on the floor, the man in overalls strode silently to the platform and led them out of the room. The children hurried to catch up with the handyman, who had not said one word all this time. Was he unhappy to be taking care of three children? Was he angry at the Council of Elders? Was he unable to speak at all? It reminded the Baudelaires of one of Count Olaf's associates, the one who looked like neither a man nor a woman and who never seemed to speak. The children kept a few steps behind Hector as he walked out of the building, almost afraid to get any closer to a man who was so strange and silent.
When Hector opened the door of Town Hall and led the children back out onto the crow-covered sidewalk, he let out a big sigh — the first sound the children had heard from him. Then he looked down at each Baudelaire and gave them a gentle smile. 'I'm never truly relaxed,' he said to them in a pleasant voice, 'until I have left Town Hall. The Council of Elders makes me feel very skittish. All those strict rules! It makes me so skittish that I never speak during one of their council meetings. But I always feel much better the moment I walk out of the building. Now, it looks like we're going to be spending quite a bit of time together, so let's get a few things straight. Number one, call me Hector. Number two, I hope you like Mexican food, because that's my specialty. And number three, I want you to see something marvelous, and we're just in time. The sun is starting to set.'
It was true. The Baudelaires hadn't noticed, when they stepped out of Town Hall, that the afternoon light had slipped away and that the sun was now just beginning to dip below the horizon. 'It's lovely,' Violet said politely, although she had never understood all the fuss about standing around admiring sunsets.
'Shh,' Hector said. 'Who cares about the sunset? Just be quiet for a minute, and watch the crows. It should happen any second now.'
'What should happen?' Klaus said.
'Shh,' Hector said again, and then it began to happen. The Council of Elders had already told the Baudelaires about the roosting habits of the crows, but the three children hadn't really given the matter a second thought, a phrase which here means 'considered, even for a second, what it would look like when thousands of crows would fly together to a new location.' One of the largest crows, sitting on top of the mailbox, was the first to fly up in the air, and with a rustle of wings he — or she; it was hard to tell from so far away — began to fly in a large circle over the children's heads. Then a crow from one of Town Hall's windowsills flew up to join the first crow, and then one from a nearby bush, and then three from the street, and then hundreds of crows began to rise up at once and circle in the air, and it was as if an enormous shadow was being lifted from the town. The Baudelaires could finally see what all the streets looked like, and they could gaze at each detail of the buildings as more and more crows left their afternoon roosts. But the children scarcely looked at the town. Instead they looked straight up, at the mysterious and beautiful sight of all those birds making a huge circle in the sky.
'Isn't it marvelous?' Hector cried. His long skinny arms were outstretched, and he had to raise his voice over the sound of all the fluttering wings. 'Isn't it marvelous?'
Violet, Klaus, and Sunny nodded in agreement, and stared at the thousands of crows circling and circling above them like a mass of fluttering smoke or like black, fresh ink — such as the ink I am using now, to write down these events — that somehow had found its way to the heavens. The sound of the wings sounded like a million pages being flipped, and the wind from all that fluttering blew in their grinning faces. For a moment, with all that air rushing toward them, the Baudelaire orphans felt as if they too could fly up into the air, away from Count Olaf and all their troubles, and join the circle of crows in the evening sky.
Chapter Three
'Wasn't that marvelous?' Hector said, as the crows stopped circling and began to fly, like an enormous black cloud, over the buildings and away from the Baudelaire orphans. 'Wasn't that just marvelous? Wasn't that absolutely superlative? That means the same thing as 'marvelous', by the way.'
'It certainly was,' Klaus agreed, not adding that he had known the word 'superlative' since he was eleven. 'I see that just about every evening,' Hector said, 'and it always impresses me. It always makes me hungry, too. What shall we eat this evening? How about chicken enchiladas? That's a Mexican dish consisting of corn tortillas rolled around a chicken filling, covered with melted cheese and a special sauce I learned from my second-grade teacher. How does that sound?'
'That sounds delicious,' Violet said.
'Oh, good,' Hector said. 'I despise picky eaters. Well, it's a pretty long walk to my house, so let's talk as we go. Here, I'll carry your suitcases and you two can carry your sister. I know you had to walk from the bus stop, so she's had more than enough exercise for a baby.'
Hector grabbed the Baudelaires' bags and led the way down the street, which was now empty except for a few stray crow feathers. High above their heads, the crows were taking a sharp left-hand turn, and Hector raised Klaus's suitcase to point at them. 'I don't know if you're familiar with the expression 'as the crow flies,'' Hector said, 'but it means 'the most direct route.' If something is a mile away as the crow flies, that means it's the shortest way to get there. It usually has nothing to do with actual crows, but in this case it does. We're about a mile away from my home as the crow flies — as all those crows fly, as a matter of fact. At night, they roost in Nevermore Tree, which is in my backyard. But it takes us longer to get there, of course, because we have to walk through V.F.D. instead of flying up in the air.'
'Hector,' Violet said timidly, 'we were wondering exactly what V.F.D. stands for.'
'Oh yes,' Klaus said. 'Please tell us.'
'Of course I'll tell you,' Hector said, 'but I don't know why you're so excited about it. It's just more nonsense from the Council of Elders.'
The Baudelaires looked at one another uncertainly. 'What do you mean?' Klaus asked.
'Well, about three hundred and six years ago,' Hector said, 'a group of explorers discovered the murder of crows that we just saw.'
'Sturo?' Sunny asked.
'We didn't see any crows get killed,' Violet said.
