The Carnivorous Carnival

emergency.'

There was a faint wheezing noise from the phone, and the Baudelaires realized that the operator was sighing. 'What is the exact nature of your emergency?'

Violet looked down at her siblings and saw the last of the sunset's blue light reflecting off Klaus's glasses and Sunny's teeth. As the dark closed around them, the nature of their emergency seemed so enormous that it would take the rest of the night to explain it to the telephone operator, and the eldest Baudelaire tried to figure out how she could summarize, a word which here means 'tell their story in a way that would convince the operator to let them talk to Mr. Poe.'

'Well,' she began, 'my name is Violet Baudelaire, and I'm here with my brother, Klaus, and my sister, Sunny. Our names might sound a bit familiar to you, because The Daily Punctilio has recently published an article saying that we're Veronica, Klyde, and Susie Baudelaire, and that we're murderers who killed Count Omar. But Count Omar is really Count Olaf, and he's not really dead. He faked his death by killing another person with the same tattoo, and framed us for the murder. Recently he destroyed a hospital while trying to capture us, but we managed to hide in the trunk of his car as he drove off with his comrades. Now we've gotten out of the trunk, and we're trying to reach Mr. Poe so he can help us get ahold of the Snicket file, which we think might explain what the initials V.F.D. stand for, and if one of our parents survived the fire after all. I know it's a very complicated story, and it may seem unbelievable to you, but we're all by ourselves in the hinterlands and we don't know what else to do.' The story was so terrible that Violet had cried a little while telling it, and she brushed a tear from her eye as she waited for a reply from the operator. But no voice came out of the phone.

The three Baudelaires listened carefully, but all they could hear was the empty and distant sound of a telephone line.

'Hello?' Violet said finally.

The telephone said nothing.

'Hello?' Violet said again. 'Hello? Hello?'

The telephone did not answer.

'Hello?' Violet said, as loud as she dared.

'I think we'd better hang up,' Klaus said gently.

'But why isn't anyone answering?' Violet cried.

'I don't know,' Klaus said, 'but I don't think the operator will help us.'

Violet hung up the phone and opened the door of the booth. Now that the sun was down the air was getting colder, and she shivered in the evening breeze. 'Who will help us?' she asked. 'Who will take care of us?'

'We'll have to take care of ourselves,' Klaus said.

'Ephrai,' Sunny said, which meant 'But we're in real trouble now.'

'We sure are,' Violet agreed. 'We're in the middle of nowhere, with no place to hide, and the whole world thinks we're criminals. How do criminals take care of themselves out in the hinterlands?'

The Baudelaires heard a burst of laughter, as if in reply. The laughter was quite faint, but in the still of the evening it made the children jump. Sunny pointed, and the children could see a light in one of the windows in Madame Lulu's caravan. Several shadows moved across the window, and the children could tell that Count Olaf and his troupe were inside, chatting and laughing while the Baudelaire orphans shivered outside in the gloom.

'Let's go see,' Klaus said. 'Let's go find out how criminals take care of themselves.'

Chapter Two

Eavesdropping–a word which here means 'listening in on interesting conversations you are not invited to join'–is a valuable thing to do, and it is often an enjoyable thing to do, but it is not a polite thing to do, and like most impolite things, you are bound to get into trouble if you get caught doing it. The Baudelaire orphans, of course, had plenty of experience not getting caught, so the three children knew how to walk as quietly as possible across the grounds of Caligari Carnival, and how to crouch as invisibly as possible outside the window of Madame Lulu's caravan. If you had been there that eerie blue evening–and nothing in my research indicates that you were–you wouldn't have heard even the slightest rustle from the Baudelaires as they eavesdropped on their enemies.

Count Olaf and his troupe, however, were making plenty of noise. 'Madame Lulu!' Count Olaf was roaring as the children pressed up against the side of the caravan so that they would be hidden in the shadows. 'Madame Lulu, pour us some wine! Arson and escaping from the authorities always makes me very thirsty!'

'I'd prefer buttermilk, served in a paper carton,' Esmй said. 'That's the new in beverage.'

'Five glasses of wine and a carton of buttermilk coming up, please,' answered a woman in an accent the children recognized. Not so long ago, when Esmй Squalor had been the Baudelaires' caretaker, Olaf had disguised himself as a person who did not speak English well, and as part of his disguise, he had spoken in an accent very similar to the one they were hearing now. The Baudelaires tried to peer through the window and catch a glimpse of the fortuneteller, but Madame Lulu had shut her curtains tightly. 'I'm thrilled, please, to see you, my Olaf. Welcome to the caravan of mine. How is life for you?'

'We've been swamped at work,' the hook-handed man said, using a phrase which here means 'chasing after innocent children for quite some time.' 'Those three orphans have been very difficult to capture.'

'Do not worry of the children, please,' Madame Lulu replied. 'My crystal ball tells me that my Olaf will prevail.'

'If that means 'murder innocent children,'' one of the white-faced women said, 'then that's the best news we've heard all day.'

''Prevail' means 'win,'' Olaf said, 'but in my case that's the same thing as killing those Baudelaires. Exactly when does the crystal ball say I will prevail, Lulu?'

'Very soon, please,' Madame Lulu replied. 'What gifts have you brought me from your traveling, my Olaf?'

'Well, let's see,' Olaf replied. 'There's a lovely pearl necklace I stole from one of the nurses at Heimlich Hospital.'

'You promised me I could have that,' Esmй said. 'Give her one of those crow hats you snatched from the Village of Fowl Devotees.'

'I tell you, Lulu,' Olaf said, 'your fortune-telling abilities are amazing. I never would have guessed that the Baudelaires were hiding out in that stupid town, but your crystal ball knew right away.'

'Magic is magic, please,' Lulu replied. 'More wine, my Olaf?'

'Thank you,' Olaf said. 'Now, Lulu, we need your fortune-telling abilities once more.'

'The Baudelaire brats slipped away from us again,' the bald man said, 'and the boss was hoping you'd be able to tell us where they went.'

'Also,' the hook-handed man said, 'we need to know where the Snicket file is.'

'And we need to know if one of the Baudelaire parents survived the fire,' Esmй said. 'The orphans seem to think so, but your crystal ball could tell us for sure.'

'And I'd like some more wine,' one of the white-faced women said.

'So many demands you make,' Madame Lulu said in her strange accent. 'Madame Lulu remembers, please, when you would visit only for the pleasure of my company, my Olaf.'

'There isn't time for that tonight,' Olaf replied quickly. 'Can't you consult your crystal ball right now?'

'You know rules of crystal ball, my Olaf,' Lulu replied. 'At night the crystal ball must be sleeping in the fortune-telling tent, and at sunrise you may ask one question.'

'Then I'll ask my first question tomorrow morning,' Olaf said, 'and we'll stay until all my questions are answered.'

'Oh, my Olaf,' Madame Lulu said. 'Please, times are very hard for Caligari Carnival. Is not good business idea to have carnival in hinterlands, so there are not many people to see Madame Lulu or crystal ball. Caligari Carnival gift caravan has lousy souvenirs. And Madame Lulu has not enough freaks, please, in the House of Freaks. You visit, my Olaf, with troupe, and stay many days, drink my wine and eat all of my snackings.'

'This roast chicken is very delicious,' the hook-handed man said.

'Madame Lulu has no money, please,' Lulu continued. 'Is hard, my Olaf, to do fortune-telling for you when