A/N: I know, I know, it's taken me an extremely long time to update. I apologize.
The Schism
Chapter 6
Monday morning at the office of The Daily Punctilio, Geraldine Julienne exited the imposing building with her briefcase bulging and her teeth gnashing. She tottered through the throngs of people on the sidewalks in her rather impractical high-heeled shoes, with a look on her face that spoke plainly: "Talk to me, bump into me, or otherwise impede me, and you're dead." The look was not the only thing speaking. Geraldine herself muttered under her breath, giving off the aura of insanity.
"She doesn't see any value in anything valuable, does she... 'Columns of this nature have been deemed unsuitable for our paper at this time...' unsuitable... we'll see about that..."
* * *
Eleanora Poe was in hardly a better mood. Firing people did not give her pleasure, as it meant that the paper's budget was low and her own paycheck was probably sinking. When Geraldine was first taken on, the Punctilio's budget was already tight, and when Mr. Snicket was hired, spending was pushed past the limit. One of them, Geraldine or Mr. Snicket, had to go.
It wasn't Geraldine's lucky day.
* * *
Geraldine entered her apartment building with the same aura of insanity emanating from her person. She stomped up a flight of stairs, opened her door, and made her way to her bedroom, where she tossed the big-but-not-big-enough briefcase on the bed. She clicked it open and immediately about fifty leaves of paper slid out in random directions. The rest remained stacked in messy piles that peeked over the top of the briefcase. Somewhere interred in the disorder were her stapler, three-ring hole puncher, and fountain pen. She rummaged for several minutes for the latter. When she found it she rummaged for several more minutes for a clean sheet of paper.
"Yes!" she whispered to herself, as she slid a yellow legal pad out of the mess. She slapped it down on her desk nearby and brought up the internet on her computer monitor.
"Let's dig up a little dirt on this Mr. - um - er - argh, I've never been that good with names," she said aloud.
* * *
INFREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ABOUT V.F.D
1. How do I volunteer for your organization?
As V.F.D. is a relatively secret organization, contacting volunteers is a little difficult. It is possible you've been contacted about possible membership already but did not notice. Perhaps a cashier said something strange to you in the checkout line. Perhaps a school janitor asked you a question concerning your pet bullfrog, or your pet bullfrog asked you a question concerning your school janitor. Perhaps you have been mysteriously sent a list of books that had coded messages inside, or perhaps you detected a message in the archives of your town's newspaper. Perhaps a taxi driver showed you a photograph of people you did not know, or perhaps you looked at a photograph of yourself and saw people you did not recognize in the background. Perhaps a banker approached you with a telegram, or perhaps a voice whispered something when you thought you were alone, or perhaps you were aboard a ship, and airplane, a bus, or an automobile that departed early, late, or exactly on time.
If you think you have been contacted and are interested in volunteering, you may want to keep a commonplace book, which is a notebook where you can copy part of books you think are in code, or take notes on a series of events you may have observed that are suspicious, unfortunate, or very dull. Keep your commonplace book in a safe place, such as underneath your bed, or at a nearby dairy.
2. How does my volunteering begin?
On the day you join the organization, you will hear a noise outside your home. It may sound like the howl of a wolf, the cawing of a crow, the hissing of a snake, the chirping of a cricket, the engine of an automobile, the keys of a typewriter, the striking of a match, or the turning of a page. The noise will come in the middle of the night, the middle of the morning, or, in very rare cases, late in the afternoon. Ask your parents what the noise was. If they reply "nothing," they are replying in code, because there is never "nothing" outside one's home. If you are interested in volunteering, answer your parents with the following question: "If there's nothing out there, what was that noise?" We will be listening, and will know it is safe to act.
Note: If you have no parents, we'll contact you in a more direct manner.
3. Do I have to get a tattoo?
We feel that the tattoo is an obligation that should be required of every volunteer. In other words, yes.
4. When will I see my parents again?
Error: The remainder of this page cannot be displayed.* * *
Esmé (?), of number six hundred sixty-seven, Dark Avenue, was proud to say that she was perfectly in, thank you very much. She was the last person you'd expect to be involved in anything unstylish or passé, because she just didn't hold with such nonsense.
Esmé was a financier by trade, but she was an actress at heart, a phrase which here means, "she had a wonderful time believing herself to be an actress but was really not that great at acting." She had an office downtown with many in things in it, including a set of color-coordinated business cards that looked like this:
Esmé:
The City's
Seventh Most Important
Financial Advisor
The business cards were always stacked neatly in a tulip-shaped holder, which was in, next to very small, very in cactus on Esmé's in semicircular front desk. The front desk was the first thing customers saw when they walked through the jingly, in door, and it was important to make a good first impression on them by bombarding them with in items.
Esmé herself almost never sat at the front desk, preferring to keep a well-dressed but poorly-paid secretary there instead to take down names, make appointments, and other such menial work. Esmé was usually in her personal office in the rear of the building, where there was a second desk for herself and two chairs for her clients.
On this second desk there was another stack of business cards in a tulip-shaped holder, but next to this there was a sugar bowl, rather than a cactus. None of her clients had really figured out why there was a sugar bowl there, as Esmé did not serve coffee and she never took sugar out of the bowl. Actually, most of her clients never really noticed the sugar bowl, and Esmé never particularly cared to point it out to them.
Esmé was not a single woman. At this time she was "with" a man named Olaf, whom she had been taking acting lessons from before their relationship developed.
Unfortunately, Olaf was currently "with" somebody else. In truth, he was engaged to somebody else. Someone we all know very, very well.
* * *
Okies, I updated. Dunno if this is long enough... but whatever. My next update will probably come faster anyway.
Please review, though I know I don't deserve it.
~ Anoriel
"Le monde ici, c'est calme."
