The Austere Academy - Snicket Lemony. Страница 10

I'm sure you would know, even if I didn't tell you, that things were about to get much worse for the Baudelaires, but I will end this chapter with this moment of companionable comfort rather than skip ahead to the unpleasant events of the next morning, or the terrible trials of the days that followed, or the horrific crime that marked the end of the Baudelaires' time at Prufrock Prep. These things happened, of course, and there is no use pretending they didn't. But for now let us ignore the terrible sonata, the dreadul teachers, the nasty, teasing students, and the even more wretched things that will be happening soon enough. Let us enjoy this brief moment of comfort, as the Baudelaires enjoyed it in the company of the Quagmire triplets and, in Sunny's case, an armrest. Let us enjoy, at the end of this chapter, the last happy moment any of these children would have for a long, long time.

CHAPTER Six

Prufrock Preparatory School is now closed. It has been closed for many years, ever since Mrs. Bass was arrested for bank robbery, and if you were to visit it now, you would find it an empty and silent place. If you walked on the lawn, you would not see any children running around, as there were the day the Baudelaires arrived. If you walked by the building containing the classrooms, you would not hear the droning voice of Mr. Remora telling a story, and if you walked by the building containing the auditorium, you would not hear the scrapings and shriekings of Vice Principal Nero playing the violin. If you went and stood beneath the arch, looking up at the black letters spelling out the name of the school and its austere-a word which here means "stern and severe"-motto, you would hear nothing but the swish of the breeze through the brown and patchy grass.

In short, if you went and visited Prufrock Preparatory School today, the academy would look more or less as it did when the Baudelaires woke up early the next morning and walked to the administrative building to talk to Nero about Coach Genghis. The three children were so anxious to talk to him that they got up especially early, and as they walked across the lawn it felt as if everyone else at Prufrock Prep had slipped away in the middle of the night, leaving the orphans alone amongst the tombstone-shaped buildings. It was an eerie feeling, which is why Violet and Sunny were surprised when Klaus broke the silence by laughing suddenly.

"What are you snickering at?" Violet asked.

"I just realized something," Klaus said. "We're going to the administrative building without an appointment. We'll have to eat our meals without silverware."

"There's nothing funny about that!" Violet said. "What if they serve oatmeal for breakfast? We'll have to scoop it up with our hands."

"Oot," Sunny said, which meant "Trust me, it's not that difficult," and at that the Baudelaire sisters joined their brother in laughter. It was not funny, of course, that Nero enforced such terrible punishments, but the idea of eating oatmeal with their hands gave all three siblings the giggles.

"Or fried eggs!" Violet said. "What if they serve runny fried eggs?"

"Or pancakes, covered in syrup!" Klaus said.

"Soup!" Sunny shrieked, and they all broke out in laughter again.

"Remember the picnic?" Violet said. "We were going to Rutabaga River for a picnic, and Father was so excited about the meal he made that he forgot to pack silverware!"

"Of course I remember," Klaus said. "We had to eat all that sweet-and-sour shrimp with our hands.

"Sticky!" Sunny said, holding her hands up.

"It sure was," Violet agreed. "Afterward, we went to wash our hands in the river, and we found a perfect place to try the fishing rod I made."

"And I picked blackberries with Mother," Klaus said.

"Eroos," Sunny said, which meant something like "And I bit rocks."

The children stopped laughing now as they remembered that afternoon, which hadn't been so very long ago but felt like it had happened in the distant, distant past. After the fire, the children had known their parents were dead, of course, but it had felt like they had merely gone away somewhere and would be back before long. Now, remembering the way the sunlight had shone on the water of Rutabaga River and the laughter of their parents as they'd made a mess of themselves eating the sweet-and-sour shrimp, the picnic seemed so far away that they knew their parents were never coming back.

"Maybe we'll go back there," Violet said quietly. "Maybe someday we can visit the river again, and catch fish and pick blackberries."

"Maybe we can," Klaus said, but the Baude-laires all knew that even if someday they went back to Rutabaga River-which they never did, by the way-that it would not be the same. "Maybe we can, but in the meantime we've got to talk to Nero. Come on, here's the administrative building."

The Baudelaires sighed and walked into the building, surrendering the use of Prufrock Prep's silverware. They climbed the stairs to the ninth floor and knocked on Nero's door, surprised that they could not hear him practicing the violin. "Come in if you must," Nero said, and the orphans walked in. Nero had his back to the door, looking at his reflection in the window as he tied a rubber band around one of his pigtails. When he was finished, he held both hands up in the air. "Ladies and gentlemen, Vice Principal Nero!" he announced, and the children began applauding obediently. Nero whirled around.

"I only expected to hear one person clapping," he said sternly. "Violet and Klaus, you're not allowed up here. You know that."

"I beg your pardon, sir," Violet said, "but all three of us have something very important we need to discuss with you."

"All three of us have something very important we need to discuss with you," Nero replied in his usual nasty way. "It must be important for you to sacrifice your silverware privileges. Well, well, out with it. I have a lot of rehearsing to do for my next concert, so don't waste my time."

"This won't take long," Klaus promised. He paused before continuing, which is a good thing to do if you're choosing your words very, very carefully. "We are concerned," he continued, choosing his words very, very carefully, "that Count Olaf may have somehow managed to get to Prufrock Prep."

"Nonsense," Nero said. "Now go away and let me practice the violin."

"But it might not be nonsense," Violet said. "Olaf is a master of disguise. He could be right under our very noses and we wouldn't know it."

"The only thing under my nose," Nero said, "is my mouth, which is telling you to leave."

"Count Olaf could be Mr. Remora," Klaus said. "Or Mrs. Bass."

"Mr. Remora and Mrs. Bass have taught at this school for more than forty-seven years," Nero said dismissively. "I would know if one of them were in disguise."

"What about the people who work at the cafeteria?" Violet asked. "They're always wearing those metal masks."

"Those are for safety, not for disguises," Nero said. "You brats have some very silly ideas. Next you'll be saying that Count Olaf has disguised himself as your boyfriend, what's-his-name, the triplet."

Violet blushed. "Duncan Quagmire is not my boyfriend," she said, "and he's not Count Olaf, either."

But Nero was too busy making idiotic jokes to listen. "Who knows?" he asked, and then laughed again. "Hee hee hee. Maybe he's disguised himself as Carmelita Spats."

"Or me!" came a voice from the doorway. The Baudelaires whirled around and saw Coach Genghis standing there with a red rose in his hand and a fierce look in his eye.

"Or you!" Nero said. "Hee hee hee. Imagine this Olaf fellow pretending to be the finest gym teacher in the country."

Klaus looked at Coach Genghis and thought of all the trouble he had caused, whether he was pretending to be Uncle Monty's assistant Stefano, or Captain Sham, or Shirley, or any of the other phony names he had used. Klaus wanted desperately to say "You are Count Olaf!" but he knew that if the Baudelaires pretended that Coach Genghis was fooling them, they had a better chance of revealing his plan, whatever it was. So he bit his tongue, a phrase which here means that he simply kept quiet. He did not actually bite his tongue, but opened his mouth and laughed. "That would be funny!" he lied. "Imagine if you were really Count Olaf! Wouldn't that be funny, Coach Genghis? That would mean that your turban would really be a disguise!"