Finally a new chapter! And getting close to the end of TPP! :)
Chapter Eleven: Inevitable Fate
A figure emerged from behind the tree, standing before me as I sobbed. I was so immersed with what I had just seen that it took me a moment to realize someone was there. I interrupted my tears to glance up nervously.
"M-Monty?" I stuttered in confusion. "What are you doing out here?"
"I heard the commotion," he said, "and I had to check it out. I saw what happened. Everything."
"Oh," I said, looking down at the ground, feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry I let you down."
Monty sighed. "I understand what you were going through," he said, he held out his hand and helped me to my feet. "A child at your age shouldn't have to face such circumstances. But I'm not here to condemn you for your actions. I've been able to learn some information. Justice Strauss has planned for you, the Baudelaires, and Count Olaf are all being tried by the High Court."
I frowned. "But what if they don't see Count Olaf's to blame for everything?" I said. "I didn't mean to kill Dewey. But he threatened me. And then…"
Monty bent down and put a finger to my lips. "I know," he said firmly. "But they don't know that."
"Do you have all the evidence we need to convince them that Olaf is guilty?" I asked.
"I have evidence," Monty said. "and I'll be present at the trial…but if things go wrong I'll be leaving before the authorities arrive to block the exits."
"So…if I don't see you," I said quietly. "Then all hope…is lost."
Monty frowned and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Yes," he said, gravely. "Though, there is another way."
"What's that?" I asked.
"You could come with me now," Monty said, "I could take you somewhere faraway from here—somewhere safe."
I brightened. "Really?" I said, glancing back at the hotel. The Baudelaires were still crouched at the pond. Guests were yelling frantically as mob psychology took over. The lobby was already swarming with guests and employees and employers and villains and volunteers. "I could leave all of this behind?" I said.
"If that's what you want," Monty Kensicle said.
But as I thought about it, my eyes moved to the Baudelaires again, watching as they looked around in despair. Could I really leave them to face this all by theirselves? They've left me behind numerous times…but I knew being bitter and resentful would only make things worse. Particularly, after what happened.
"I'm sorry," I said, finally. "But I can't go with you. Running away from my problems won't do any good. I have to face it no matter how difficult."
Monty nodded. "I admire your bravery," he said, "good luck to you. I do hope things turn out."
I knew he genuinely hoped I would have a better future, but I could see the doubt in his eyes. He was afraid things wouldn't be okay. Frankly, I was too.
"Remember," Monty said, "you determine your destiny. Don't let others decide it for you."
"I'll try," I said, "but I can't make any promises. I'll probably just end up breaking it."
Monty nodded, sadly. "It's a shame," he said, "that this world has turned so cold."
"I'm sorry I failed you," I said.
"You—" Monty began but he was interrupted by a sharp voice calling my name from the top of the stairs to the lobby's entrance. There was a fit of coughing, and I glanced over to see Mr. Poe. He glanced from where I stood to where the Baudelaires were standing. He was covering his mouth with a white handkerchief. I glanced worriedly to where Monty had been standing but he was gone.
"What has happened?" Mr. Poe asked. "Where is that man you four shot with the harpoon?"
I glanced toward the pond. "He's dead," I said. I walked over to stand near the Baudelaires, I avoided looking directly at them, afraid that they were angry with me.
Mr. Poe coughed again in astonishment, and then stepped down the stairs and stood in front of us. "Dead!" he said. "How did that happen?"
"It's difficult to say," Klaus said, looking at me.
"Difficult to say?" Mr. Poe frowned. "But I saw you. All four of you. You three were holding the weapon and Miss Rumary held it before it fired. Surely you can tell me what happened."
"I didn't mean to do it," I said, feeling tears streaming down my face. "It's not what it looked like. I was trying to stop it."
"You'd better come inside," he said, with a weary sigh. "I must say I'm very disappointed in you children. When I was in charge of your affairs, no matter how many homes I found for you, terrible things occurred. Then, when you decided to handle your own affairs, The Daily Punctilio brought more and more news of your treachery with each passing day. And now that I've found you again, I see that once more an unfortunate event has occurred, and another guardian is dead. You should be ashamed of yourselves."
"We should be ashamed?" I said, in frustration. I almost couldn't believe the words that spilled from my mouth like vomit. "I think you're the one who should be ashamed. It's thanks to you that I've been in Count Olaf's clutches for several horrible months. It's thanks to you that the Baudelaires were sent to that village and whose citizens tried to burn them at the stake. It's thanks to you that they had no choice but to survive on their own when no one else would help them. It's thanks to you that Violet almost had her head removed as apart of Olaf's scheme to get our fortunes. It's thanks to you that the Baudelaires were almost eaten by lions and almost fell off a mountain. So before you tell us to be ashamed, maybe you should think about the misery you put us through!"
Mr. Poe frowned. "That was very rude Miss Rumary," he said. "I apologize for not finding you sooner. But I did everything I could."
"Well it wasn't enough. And Jane Rumary isn't even my name," I muttered. "I'm not Jane Rumary. I'm Jamie Murray."
"Enough with this nonsense Jane," Mr. Poe said, "You know there are people who say that criminal behavior is the destiny of children from a broken home. Perhaps such people are right."
"This isn't our destiny," Klaus said. I couldn't help but nod in agreement as Mr. Poe merely gave him a sad, stern look, and kept pushing us. We were led to the lobby where there was a crowd waiting to ambush us.
"There they are!" roared someone from the back of the room. Every person in the lobby was looking directly at us. Everyone was wearing pajamas, nightgowns, or other sleepwear, and was glaring at the us through eyes squinty from being awakened in the middle of the night. It is always interesting to observe what people are wearing in the middle of the night, although there are more pleasant ways to make such observations without being accused of murder. "Those are the murderers!"
"They're no ordinary murderers!" cried Geraldine Julienne, who was wearing a bright yellow nightshirt and had a shower cap over her hair. "They're the Baudelaire orphans!" She seemed to ignore the fact that I was with them.
A ripple of astonishment went through the crowd. "The Baudelaire orphans?" cried Sir, whose pajamas had the initials L. S. stenciled over the pocket, probably for "Lucky Smells." "I remember them! They caused accidents in my lumbermill!"
"The accidents weren't their fault!" Charles said, whose pajamas matched his partner's. "They were the fault of Count Olaf!"
"Count Olaf is another one of their victims!" cried a woman dressed in a bright pink bathrobe. The Baudelaires recognized her as Mrs. Morrow, one of the citizens of the Village of Fowl Devotees. "He was murdered right in my hometown!"
"That was Count Omar," said another citizen of the town, a man named Mr. Lesko who apparently slept in the same plaid pants he wore during the day.
"I'm sure the Baudelaires aren't murderers," said Jerome Squalor. "I was their guardian, and I always found them to be polite and kind."
"They were pretty good students, if I remember correctly," said Mr. Remora, who was wearing a nightcap shaped like a banana.
"They were pretty good students, if I remember correctly," Vice Principal Nero mimicked. "They were nothing of the sort. Violet and Klaus flunked all sorts of tests, and Sunny was the worst administrative assistant I've ever seen!"
"I say they're criminals," Mrs. Bass said, adjusting her wig, "and criminals ought to be punished."
"Yes!" Hugo. "Criminals are too freakish to be running around loose!" "They're not criminals," Hal said firmly, "and I should know."
"So should I," retorted Esme Squalor, "and I say they're guilty as sin." Her long, silver fingernails rested on the shoulder of Carmelita Spats, who was glaring at the four of us as we passed.
"I think they're guiltier than that!" said one of the hotel bellboys. "
I think they're even guiltier than you think they are!" cried another.
"I think they look like nice kids!" said someone we didn't recognize.
"I think they look like vicious criminals!" said another person.
"I think they look like noble volunteers!" said another.
"I think they look like treacherous villains!"
"I think they look like concierges!"
"One of them looks a bit like my mother!"
Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! The lobby seemed to shake as the clock struck three in the morning. By now, Mr. Poe had escorted us to a far corner of the lobby, where either Frank or Ernest was waiting next to the door marked 121 with a grim expression on his face as the last Wrong! echoed in the enormous room.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The children turned to see Justice Strauss, who was standing on one of the wooden benches so she could be seen and clapping her hands for attention.
"Please settle down! The matter of the Baudelaires' guilt or innocence is not for you to decide."
"That doesn't seem fair," remarked a man in pajamas with a pattern of salmon swimming upstream. "After all, they woke us up in the middle of the night."
"The case is a matter for the High Court," Justice Strauss said. "The authorities have been notified, and the other judges of the court are on their way. We will be able to begin the trial in a matter of hours."
While everyone was busy listening to Justice Strauss, I managed to slip away from Mr. Poe and began to search for an exit. Perhaps I should leave and get out of this mess as quickly as I could.
"Come with me little girl," a voice said from behind me. I whirled and faced a tall man who must have been either Frank or Ernest.
He grabbed my arm and started to tow me in the opposite direction. I planted my feet, realizing that I shouldn't trust this man. He might be Ernest.
"Why?" I demanded, grounding my feet.
"I knew your mother," he said, as if that was proof enough.
I furrowed my eyebrows. "I still don't trust you."
It was definitely Ernest because he began pulling on my arm and as much as I tried to resist, I couldn't. "I'm doing a favor for Olaf actually. The trial will begin soon."
"There's nothing to try except that Olaf is guilty," I said.
"Where's your proof?" Ernest challenged, his dark eyes gleaming.
I wanted to blurt that I did in fact have evidence but I knew it wouldn't be good for someone dangerous to know that.
Instead, I thought of something else to say.
"Why don't you ask your brother?" I said. "He died because of Olaf."
Ernest stopped for a moment and looked down at me in surprise but then his eyes narrowed. "Dewey was no brother of mine," he muttered and I sighed. It seemed so sad that the Denouement brothers had been split by this schism. I thought of the Quagmires and couldn't imagine how heartbreaking it would be if one of them changed sides.
"You can keep telling yourself that," I said, "but it won't change what happened. He was your brother and one day you'll look back with regret. You can burn down homes and steal money but there is nothing more important in this world than family."
Ernest Denouement glared at me. He pulled me roughly to a door, opened it up, and threw me inside with a chuckle. The door closed again and I found myself in a large closet filled with supplies for guests. Count Olaf was in the room. He sat against the wall looking at a piece of paper that he was writing on.
He stopped when he saw me, a cruel smirk appeared on his face.
"Why thank you, Ernest," he said. Ernest grinned and then nodded before closing the door behind us. It locked and I stayed nervously by the door, afraid now that I was trapped in a room with Count Olaf.
"Well, well, well," he said, "look who came crawling back." He got up off the floor so he now towered over me.
"I didn't come here out of my own will," I said, "Ernest forced me to come here."
"Well we have been associates for quite some time now," Olaf said. "He always knows exactly what I want. Now that you're here, you can help me with my plans."
I would have glowered at Olaf but I just wasn't in the mood at the moment. Actually I wasn't in the mood for anything. "Just because we're in the same room doesn't mean I'm still on your side," I said in a quiet voice. I crossed my arms, as if I was annoyed. Really I was just trying to pull myself together so I wouldn't fall apart.
"You never know," Count Olaf said, "we'll be in this room for a while. I'm a very attractive man and I can be very persuading as you already know." He winked, making me shudder.
"What about before?" I said. "I refused to shoot Dewey and you were pretty angry with me. Why am I still your accomplice?"
"Well," he said. "I realize I may have taken things too far with you. After all, you're still learning and murder can be sticky for newcomers. I'm going to give you another chance and find you a job that will better suit you for the time being."
"Well, I don't want another chance," I said. "I'm done being a villain."
"Oh, I think you will want another chance," Olaf said with shiny eyes. Still sitting, he leaned towards me, "once I tell you about my latest plan."
"There's nothing you can say to change my mind," I said firmly.
"Let's just say if you refuse to be my henchwoman, then I'll still take you with me as my orphan prisoner," he said. "I just thought I would be generous and offer you this exciting opportunity."
"You won't get away with me if you lose the trial," I said, "which you probably will."
Olaf laughed. "Silly, girl," he said, "don't you know it's innocent until proven guilty? The only evidence is gone. Besides, you were the one holding the gun when it fired."
"I didn't pull the trigger," I said furiously because I knew deep inside that no matter how I looked at it, Dewey's death was partly my fault.
"Maybe not," Olaf said, "but no one else knows that."
"I'll just tell them you made me do it," I said, feeling my throat tighten as if the Medusoid Mycellium was choking me to death. "because that's the truth."
"It doesn't matter," Olaf said, "Not without a certain piece of evidence. As I said, the evidence you need is gone."
"Which is?" I pressed.
"The Snicket File, of course," Olaf said, "And as soon as I get my hands on the sugarbowl…which is in the laundry room as we speak."
"There's also evidence that the Baudelaire's and I are witnesses of all the horrible things you've done," I said. I was so tempted to mention the owl figurine, the tape I stole, my notebook, and Monty Kensicle's books. But Monty warned me not to do so. "Maybe we didn't witness all the crimes you committed in the past but I did witness you brutally murder Jacques Snicket."
Olaf's eyes grew very shiny and he took a step forward.
"I thought I told you not to mention that ever again," he said in a terrible voice. I shrunk back against the wall. Then he sneered, "Do you really think the jury is going to listen to you? You should know by now that no one ever listens to children. They're more likely to believe that an award winning actor is innocent."
"Just because you were in a couple of movies and plays doesn't mean they won't suspect you," I said, "Tons of famous people have gone to jail."
"Maybe," Count Olaf muttered, "but the judges aren't exactly your friends. Except for that stupid woman, Justice Strauss. She was always a lousy neighbor."
"Maybe to you," I said, "but you were probably a lousy neighbor to her so I think you're even."
"True," Olaf admitted, looking amused that he was the source of someone's suffering. "As I was saying, I'm very good friends with the other two judges. I believe you've met them. One in particular recently did something terrible to you in a certain storage room and the other tried to kill you."
"You mean…" I trailed off. I shuddered and gaped. Not the sinister duo! "How did they get to become judges? They like law as much as you like me and the Baudelaire's."
"You can ask Justice Strauss that question," Olaf said, smiling triumphantly, "She's the one who was stupid enough to believe that they were actually noble people who cared about the Baudelaire's. She never knew you so she didn't exactly help there, but she gave my associates some good advice."
"Like what?" I asked, curiously.
"She was the one who helped me find you and the Baudelaire's every time except for when they became fugitives, of course," Olaf said.
"How could she not sense their menace?" I said, "I get chills just thinking about them. Then again, I thought that scary woman was Mrs. Marshall and she tried to kill me."
"So you see," Olaf said, "there's no hope for you or those idiotic Baudelaires. You might as well give up and join me while you can. I won't be so generous once V.F.D. is destroyed along with every piece of evidence against me."
I bit my lip and averted my eyes. I thought of what Monty had said. If I didn't see him at the trial then it meant that it wasn't the right time to use the evidence we gathered. It meant that the villains would win and there was no hope. Now that the sinister duo were judges, it seemed like Olaf was right and there was no way to send him to jail, at least not today. But I knew that if the trial didn't go successfully today, then there wouldn't be any more trials. Never again would Olaf be sent to jail because V.F.D. would be destroyed. Except for the secret headquarters of course.
"I know what you're thinking, Jamie," Count Olaf said, coming over to me. "You're thinking about that Monty Kensicle, aren't you? Well, if I see that man, I won't hesitate to kill him."
"I was thinking about him," I admitted, "but that's only because I realized that…I don't…have evidence."
Count Olaf grinned and patted my head. "No you don't," he said. "And soon no one will."
"I guess not," I said, sadly.
"So have you decided?" Count Olaf said.
"I don't know," I said, "I still have the Baudelaires to think about."
"But if you choose to be on their side," Olaf said, "There's a big chance that the Baudelaires won't be very forgiving of the terrible things you've done. They probably think you killed Dewey. Remember how they treated you when they thought you killed Madame Lulu? What will they do now that once again they think you killed their friend?"
I tried to convince myself that they would forgive me but I wasn't so sure. I saw the looks on their faces when Dewey was shot. They were filled with such despair. Nothing could save our friendship this time. It was the second time that I almost killed someone—to think that I was actually capable of such a thing…it made me afraid—afraid because I didn't know if I could trust myself.
"You're all alone," Olaf said, "just like before. Not even Esmé wants you now."
"I guess you're right…" I said but then I thought of Melissa and what Esmé had said about being independent, "but I can do it alone. I'm willing to take that risk…I've been alone all my life. I can handle it."
"Don't let your own pride fool you into thinking you'll be able to survive on your own," he said, though I can't imagine why he would call that pride. He took another step towards me. "You were by yourself for only a few minutes and my associate nearly got away with stealing your innocence or whatever. Not to mention how you're now trapped in this room with me. And I'm never letting you escape."
"So," I said, quietly, "How is going with you going to make things better?"
"It's true," Olaf said placing a spidery hand on my shoulder, "You may not be entirely happy joining me. But as I said, I can provide you with protection from people like that. I need you to be a healthy orphan so I can get your fortune and so you can help me with my plans."
"Well," I said, "your bald associate nearly got away with harming me and you've hurt me loads of times. There wasn't much protection for me then."
"That's only because you weren't my henchwoman at that time," Olaf said.
"Why do you still want me on your side anyways?" I said, crossing my arms.
"I told you that I wanted to give you another chance," Olaf said, "I suppose what I'm really asking you is whether you want to come with me as my accomplice and live or come with me as my prisoner and live until I can get your fortune. But of course, there are worse things than death."
I sighed and nodded. "That's certainly true," I said softly, staring hard at the wall behind Olaf. "Watching someone you care about die is much worse."
Olaf looked at me and narrowed his eyes. I still kept my gaze on the wall, shuddering once again for my involvement in ending a life. I could imagine the disappointed look on Jacques Snicket's face if he were alive to learn of the terrible things I've done. "For once I agree," he said.
"I've had time to think about it and you can say whatever you want to persuade me," I said, "but I don't think I'll ever be able to work for you. You killed Jacques Snicket before my very eyes and it makes me sick to think that I would work for someone who did something so horrible. I've made a terrible mistake."
"Maybe," Olaf said, "but as I mentioned earlier, at least your life wouldn't be in danger."
"How can I know that for sure?" I said. "How can I know that you're telling the truth? You honestly won't kill me once you get my fortune?"
"Only if you provoke me," Olaf said, "or if you're just a prisoner. But if you choose my side then you'll get to live with me while I enjoy your fortune and the Baudelaires' fortune. If you're extra good, I might even consider buying you a guitar or something."
"A guitar?" I said glancing up at him briefly but I caught myself before I got too carried away by the idea. "Anything bought with that money once you have it would be tainted with your treachery. When I think about it, it doesn't seem like living with you for the rest of my life would be so great. I think I'd rather you kill me."
"Well you don't know that," Olaf said, leaning forward and grabbing my chin so I couldn't look away. "I can be very exciting to be around. I think crimes are exciting and you just might too. But never mind that, we can talk more about the future once I've destroyed V.F.D. Now, we need to talk about my latest plan. Are you with me or not?"
I chewed my lip. "I don't know," I said, "Do I have to decide right now?"
"I would prefer it," Olaf muttered, irritably.
I sighed. "So I'm going with you no matter what?" I said. "How will you be able to snatch me during the trial?"
"Uh-uh," Olaf said, "I'm not going to tell you any part of my plan until you've agreed to help me."
I sighed. "Fine," I said.
"Are you joining me?" Olaf asked.
I shrugged. "I still don't know," I said, "I need some time to think about it."
"Well we have several hours to wait in this storage room," Olaf said, "As if we're the ones who should be locked away. The Baudelaires are really the monsters!"
There was a sudden knock on the door, interrupting our conversation. Olaf went to answer it and Ernest was back.
"I need a moment alone to discuss the very important matters at hand," Ernest said.
"Of course," Olaf said with a sly look. "Stay here orphan and when I get back, you better have made up your mind."
Olaf left the room. I was alone now. I was always alone.
Olaf's words were convincing the way they were when he persuaded me to join him the first time. But I knew if I didn't find a way to block them out, I wouldn't be able to think clearly. I couldn't be fooled again or be cornered by fear.
"Falling a thousand feet per second," I began to sing quietly to myself.
"You still take me by surprise
I just know we can't be over
I can see it in your eyes
Making every kind of silence
Takes a lot to realize
It's worse to finish than to start all over
And never let it lie
And as long as I can feel you holding on
I won't fall
Even if you said I was wrong."
I remembered how Klaus had said that he had read my journal and now he knew everything. He had admitted that he felt the same way about me. But did he mean that? Or did he just feel guilty about not believing me and wanted to stop me from killing Dewey? Even if it were the truth that he shared my feelings. Did that really change anything? That instant when the harpoon fired changed everything. I knew our relationship was probably irreparable now that I was the one who was touching the gun when it fired. Maybe I didn't pull the trigger but that didn't mean I wasn't at all responsible for Dewey's death. Olaf was right when he said the Baudelaires probably wouldn't forgive me now. This time I was with them because I knew it really was my doing. I really was a murderer.
"I'm not perfect,
But I keep trying
Cause that's what I said I would do from the start
I'm not alive if I'm lonely,
So please don't leave
Was it something I said or just my personality?"
My thoughts moved to the noble side of V.F.D. and what it represented. I thought about the Baudelaires shielding Dewey from harm while the adults did nothing. I thought of how Mr. Poe nearly gave us away to Olaf numerous times and did nothing when we tried to reach out to him. It wasn't so much the Baudelaires that I was irritated with anymore. It saddened me that the people who were supposed to be depended on for help, abandoned us one way or another. The only people I knew or still know who hadn't betrayed us were Jacques and Lemony Snicket. Of course, I never knew Jacques long enough to understand the kind of person he was, but if the few moments were any indication of his character, then I could come to the conclusion that he was a noble man. Although Monty lied to me about his identity, I'm long over that. I understand that he was only trying to protect himself and me from Olaf's wrath. But if none of these other adults would stand up for us children when we needed them most, who would protect us?
"Making every kind of silence,
It takes a lot to realize
Its worse to finish than to start all over and never let it lie
And as long as I can feel you holding on
I wont fall
Even if you said I was wrong
I know that I'm not perfect,
But I keep trying
Cause that's what I said I would do from the start
I'm not alive if I'm lonely,
So please don't leave
Was it something I said or just my personality?"
Could the answer truly be a life of crime and violence? Could I manage on my own? Olaf had said if I went off on my own, I would only encounter more dangers. But maybe that was a risk I had to take. I wished there was a way to leave behind this society altogether. I was tired of the cruelty and the dangers that lurked in every shadow. I was being turned into someone I wasn't—a monster. I was afraid I was losing myself and if I didn't get out now, it would be too late.
"When you're caught in a lie
And you've got nothing to hide
When you've got nowhere to run
And you've got nothing inside
It tears right through me
You thought that you knew me
You thought that you knew…
I know that I'm not perfect,
But I keep trying
Cause that's what I said I would do from the start
I'm not alive if I'm lonely,
So please don't leave
Was it something I said or just my personality?"
I wanted to be good. I wanted to be good so bad now. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were before all our troubles began. But I couldn't. So while I desired to be noble, I really had no choice. I still couldn't go with the Baudelaires and Esmé walked away from me for what seemed like forever. I had no one else to depend on to help me. Besides Monty Kensicle and Melissa. But Monty Kensicle couldn't exactly take me with him anywhere. I knew he would think it was far too dangerous and where would we go? I didn't have anywhere to go to. I already declined the letter from Hogwarts. And either way Olaf would make sure that I would be going with him. Maybe settling for being a villain won't be so terrible. I know it can never bring me the happiness that was stolen from me when I lost my parents, but I knew I couldn't survive on my own.
"I know that I'm not perfect,
But I keep trying
Cause that's what I said I would do from the start
I'm not alive if I'm lonely,
So please don't leave
Was it something I said?
Or just my, just my
Self, just myself
Myself, just myself
I'm not perfect but I keep trying."
So I made my decision. If the adults wouldn't protect us, then I had to do it. I had to protect not only the Baudelaires, but also everyone in the lobby whose life could soon be in jeopardy, depending on Olaf's plan. Just like the song, maybe I haven't been on the right path. I knew the only way to fix it, was to keep trying to do the right thing. And I knew that my fate was inevitable—that I would have to go with Olaf as his accomplice. But perhaps being his accomplice could help me stop Count Olaf from hurting anyone and hopefully it would attempt to make up for what I did.
If Monty Kensicle wasn't at the trial, then my fate was set in stone.
Review! :)
The song is called Perfect by Hedley! It's such a great song! You should listen to it if you don't already know it!