Chapter 2:
After wandering through the beachside town aimlessly looking for a place to stay, we found shelter in a home for runaway youth. The shelter was built in the basement of a Catholic church, designed as a makeshift home for kids who had nowhere else to stay. They took us in for the night, giving us warm clothes and a bed to sleep in. We didn't sleep much that night; we had too much catching up to do. I told them all about how Mom saved me from the blaze, about the secret tunnels underneath our old home. I heard about their time at Prufrock Prep, being captured by Count Olaf, and how they wound up on a hot air balloon mobile home floating in the sky. We shared the few secrets we knew about VFD, and of course we talked about the Baudelaires, who had helped us all make it through the trying days after the fire. We laughed about our happier childhood memories, we cried about the destruction of our home and family, until early in the morning when we all fell asleep, feeling as if no time had passed at all.
My eyes slowly opened to the room we were in. I was lying on the carpet of the small room we had in the shelter. Sunlight beamed through the shades; I guessed that it was around noon. I pushed myself up from the ground, and saw Isadora eating a banana on the bed.
"Morning Quigley" she said with a smile.
"Hey Izzy" I said, climbing up and sitting on the chair next to the bed. She handed me a basket of fruit, and I grabbed one of the oranges, eager to get some food in my stomach. I didn't realize it before, but I was really hungry.
"I found some water" Duncan said, coming into the room with a gallon of water and some cups. "Hey Quigley you're up sleepyhead" he says handing me a cup of water.
"Thanks buddy" I said with a chuckle, taking the water from his hand. Above us a group of people were singing Ode to Joy, the relative lack of pitch made me think that there was a service going on above us. As we ate our breakfast, we tried to figure out what we should do next. We had no money, so we couldn't easily find another place to stay. I suggested trying to find Kit or another volunteer to take care of us, but we didn't know who to call, or how to get in touch with them. The foster care system was always an option, but no one would take in three teenage orphans on a whim. We'd have to be separated, and that wouldn't happen. Not again, after all we had been through.
"If only we had a safe place to go" Isadora lamented "we could starting piecing our lives back together. The shelter works for now, but we can't stay here forever. It's not a real home."
"If we had money we could find our own place to stay." Duncan suggested. Obviously we had a large fortune that we were waiting to claim, but we had no access to it until we turned eighteen. Esme Squalor also had control of it, so any chance we had at bending the rules was gone.
"We could make our own money" I said. "If the three of us get jobs, we could find a small apartment to rent out until we become of age." It was a plan, but it wasn't a great plan. Finding jobs would be tough, and so would be feeding and housing ourselves on minimum wage. Duncan brought up something about how in some states people under eighteen couldn't legally sign a lease, and we moved on.
"What about our old beach house?" Duncan suggested, his face lighting up at the idea. Our parents owned a summer home out west in a place called Lake Crimson. When we were younger we would go up there on the weekends and spend all day playing on the beach. It was from exploring the woods around our house with my dad that I developed my interest in cartography. As we all reminisced on all the good memories we had there, I realized why our parents used to call it a sanctuary. We came to a pretty quick agreement that we should move back there, where we could live for free, finish school, and move on with our lives. It was the perfect plan.
"But how will we get there?" Isadora asked. No one answered. We thought for a while, but after failing to come up with a good idea, we gave up. Once the music stopped playing, we decided to go upstairs, for lack of anything better to do. We climbed up the stairs, and walked into a magnificent church. The stained glass windows gave the room a nice color, while the marble altar and golden candles held the attention at the front of the room. In front of the altar stood the priest, a middle aged man with olive skin, his hair balding yet still very much black.
"Excellent sermon father" an elderly woman said to him before walking off with her husband. Once they left we approached him, as we came closer he turned to us and smiled.
"Welcome to my church children, I am Father Domingo" he said, shaking our hands.
"Hello father" I replied, "my name is Quigley Quagmire, these are my siblings, Duncan and Isadora."
"Thank you very much for giving us a place to spend the night" Isadora said to him.
"Anytime children, it's all God's work" he said. "I do believe though, that I've met you're parents before. How are they doing?"
"They're dead." Isadora said sadly. "That's actually why we came here; ever since they passed away we've had trouble finding safe places to stay."
"I didn't realize this was a sad occasion" he said, taking me by surprise. 'Why was he using a VFD code?' I wondered. If he was a member of VFD, what side was he on, and did he know where Kit was?
"The world is quiet here" I said in response, not knowing whether or not my siblings knew about the code. That response is used to identify yourself as another volunteer, but only in a safe place where it is safe to talk openly. Since everyone else had already left, I figured it was safe.
"I'm glad you came here, our organization needs your help" Father Domingo said. "Recently our members have been accused of a variety of heinous crimes; around here we have been forced into hiding to protect ourselves. I myself am confined to the church unless I am going somewhere with the bishop, as I am about to once we're finished. In my spare time I have kept busy with research, and have been building up evidence that can be used to clear our names."
He reached under the altar and pulled out a small black box, with gold trimming and a shiny lock. "In here are my files" he said. "I need the three of you to deliver this to a lawyer I know, from there she can build our case." Duncan took the box, tugged on it but realized it was locked and stopped, as the priest sighed and reached into his robe, pulling out a small piece of paper.
"Here is a map that will lead you to your destination" he said handing me the map. The others looked skeptical, but I had grown used to this kind of treatment from the volunteers beforehand. They were always very hesitant to give out details about their errands, yet we always were expected to perform them without question. Maybe it was just my age at the time, or maybe their secrets really were too terrible to share with anyone, but I wanted answers. I wanted to know why our parents were killed, why everything is done in codes, why the schism really occurred, and most importantly, how my family and I could live safely.
"What's in it for us?" I asked. Father Domingo was surprised, but we were homeless and penniless, if we were going to do anything we deserved something in return.
"Look" he said after a long sigh "this is against our policy, but you kids need help, and it's my duty as a man of God to help you. I have arranged for you to be paid for this errand. When you reach my lawyers home, she will give you your money. It will be enough to help you three get back home." Without another word he left us alone the church.
"Well what are we waiting for" Duncan said. "We run this errand, and buy ourselves three train tickets to Lake Crimson"
"Good enough for me" I said with a smile.
