Dear Reviewers:
Fufulupin: Spiffy, I like that word… Anyway, thanks for reading! I'm glad you like it!
Ed, the Giant Racoon: Didn't get this one up as soon as I wanted, but I've been busy doing stuffs, so it took longer. Here it is, and thank you!
Arden C. Evans: Darn typos! And um… Thanks!
NewbiaTheElf: Yay! You liked it. I'm so happy. :)
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SaturnStorm: Dang, I would place a bet, but I'd just give the ending away… Of course, I would win…
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Emma-Lizzy-Black: Who knows, maybe they will…
I'm sorry this one took a while also. So, since I missed the holidays with you guys, Happy Christmahanakwanzaakuh! Or whatever everyone's saying nowadays. I threw in a bit of romance in this chapter, just to let you guys know, and I hope I didn't make it too sudden or overly-sappy. Let me know what you guys think so far, I love getting reviews! Oh yes, and I've also discovered that if I write the chapter first and then the replies to your reviews, the chapter part itself is usually longer than if I answer your reviews first. Huh. Who knew? Maybe that's the better way to write it…
Chapter 12: A l l G o n e
Dear Dairy,
It's so nice to be writing again. Things have been really hard lately and it feels good to finally get it all out on paper.
Sunny is still gone. She's gone and it's all my fault. I want to listen to Isadora and not worry about her, but there's always this part of me that can't help it. I keep remembering those days when Sunny was just a babbling toddler who could barely even say my name, those days when she needed me. Sometimes it's hard to imagine that she was once that small. She's going to be beautiful someday; a lot of people say she already looks almost exactly like Mother.
Right now it feels like I'm letting my whole family down, even Mother and Father. It's so frustrating. It's almost like there's nothing I can do to help Sunny, I'm just sitting here, typing and worrying and thinking up all sorts of plans to rescue her but for some stupid reason I can't do anything to save my own sister and now she's probably there with Fiona, practicing how to burn people's houses down and becoming an arsonist and a criminal and all the while she's thinking "Why isn't my brother doing anything?" and…
Oh man…
I've got to do something.
It makes this whole thing seem so…worthless, because there's nothing I can do. I mean, I can't just walk up to Fiona and say, "I've decided I want my sister back. See ya." There's no time to try some midnight break-in and kidnap her back, and Sunny's already got trust issues with me, it's not like she'll like that plan anyway. She'd probably just leave again.
Oh…Which reminds me…
How am I going to get her to trust me again?
As far as she knows, I'm some traitor to V.F.D. who goes around starting fires and blinding people. It doesn't help that most of it is true. I did start the grotto fire on purpose, but not because I'm an arsonist, like she thinks. I did blind Fiona, although I'm not exactly sure how. I didn't mean to do it, I'd never do anything to hurt her, even Fiona knows that. But how can I explain that to Sunny without her understanding? It's like I'd be admitting to her that I'm exactly who Fiona says I am. But I'm not. How can I make it clear to you, Sunny, that I'm not?
Violet will tell her. Then she'll believe me.
She trusts Violet.
Sometimes I can't help but wonder what it would have been like if Mother and Father had never died. I'd probably be off at some college, Harvard probably, and Violet would be getting married. I remember when she was little she always dreamed of having a big, fancy wedding when she was 25, precisely 25. I have no idea why it was that age, but it was always, "When I'm 25 I'm going to get such a beautiful dress," or "At my wedding after I turn 25, there's going to have to be white roses and a big tall cake," or "Maybe I'll have my wedding on my 25th birthday!" And we'd say, "Of course, Violet. When you're 25." And then Father would make some joke about how he might not even let her date until she was 26, and then she'd say she would elope.
Violet's 25 now. No wedding.
I hope she finds someone soon. Quigley still sounds like the right guy for her, but we're all seriously doubting that the once-a-year letter he sends, well, once a year is good enough grounds for a solid relationship. Every once in a while I walk in on her in the study, and there she is, pouring over that one letter he wrote to her, rereading it as if it changes every time she starts over. Violet still loves him. You just have to see the look in her eyes when she reads that letter and you know. Even I'm getting to the point where I want to write to him, just to tell him to reply to Violet's letters. I'd say, "Write to her you dummy!" and that's it. And if he doesn't answer Violet then, I'd send him 25 more letters that say the same thing, one for every year she's been dreaming of getting married. And if he doesn't reply to that, then we'll go find someone else for Violet. Take that, Mr. Quagmire.
So anyway, if I'm at Harvard and Violet's married, Sunny would probably be at cooking school, or maybe just normal school, or perhaps at home in the library. I can just imagine Mother and Father spoiling Sunny to death. I remember how they were always coddling her as a baby, how Mother loved to dress her up in all sorts of fancy clothes and curl what little hair she had into bouncy golden-brown ringlets, complete with a ribbon tied in a bow. Sunny would probably be getting even more attention from them today, seeing how she would be the only one of us three still living in the house. Oh, how they so looked forward to seeing her grow up…
Maybe if we had stopped that fire…Maybe if Mother and Father were still alive…Maybe if we had all had safe, normal childhoods…
…Maybe this never would have happened.
Klaus stopped typing and sighed, his weary fingers still resting on the typewriter keys. Frowning, he swiveled around in his chair and stared at his telegraph. It was due for a good dusting; it hadn't been used in ages. It sat silently, almost expectantly, as if to say, "Come on, Klaus, go ahead and send out a quick message to your Volunteer buddies. They'll know what to do."
Klaus stood up and took several pensive towards it. He could Dispatch a few Volunteers, just to see if they had any advice. Fernald might have some ideas. He knew Fiona better than anyone, right?
His hand touched the headphones. Just put these on, he told himself. Just tap out a short message, call for help.
I can't do this alone.
Right when he was about to flip the device on, the phone rang, jolting him out of his reverie.
Klaus picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Klaus! Klaus, something terrible has happened!" It was Violet's panicked voice.
"What is it?" he asked anxiously. Was that a fire truck siren in the background?
"There was a fire."
Klaus's heart stopped.
"It's Isadora's house."
He let the phone slip from his hand.
Violet's voice was fainter, tinier floating up from the floor, but he still heard her last words.
"There's nothing left, Klaus. You have to get over here quick."
Before Violet could figure out that her brother was no longer listening, Klaus grabbed his jacket and darted out the door.
Smoke blinded him as he stepped off the trolley. For a brief moment, Klaus wondered if he had stopped in front of somebody else's home, or maybe he was facing the wrong direction and was really staring at the charred remains of the house across the street from Isadora's. But sure enough, there was Violet, her pale face tear-streaked and lower lip quivering, hurrying towards him.
This can't be happening… Klaus thought as his sister wrapped her arms around his neck and sniffled.
"We've been calling everyone, everywhere, but still no news about her," Violet said quietly. "Today's her day off, so she wouldn't be at the Diner…"
No…I'm dreaming…
Violet pulled away and silently led her brother into the ashy wreckage that was Isadora's house. Burnt bookcases had toppled over, shattered windows had fallen out of their frames, and one blackened, solitary doorframe remained standing resolutely.
"They haven't…found her yet, in case you were wondering," Violet added softly. "We're still looking."
Klaus continued to stare past his sister, not even noticing she was saying anything. He didn't blink, didn't speak, didn't breathe.
This has to be a dream.
A police officer tapped Violet on the shoulder. "Ma'am, if it's okay with you, I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"Oh, yes, of course," she answered. With one final glance at Klaus, she turned and left, leaving her brother to walk, alone and dazed, through the remains of the once stately home.
No, this can't be real. I saw her just yesterday. She was fine. She can't be here and then suddenly not be here. It doesn't make sense. It just doesn't make sense.
Klaus knew, subconsciously at least, that it made perfect sense. A fire is a thing that can happen rather quickly, all too quickly, and it was a thing he had figured out from experience. A fire had destroyed his first home in the matter of mere minutes, and all while he was just a few blocks away at the beach. Many significant times and events in his young life had been disrupted by this cruel and scarring element, many places obliterated by this seemingly uncontrollable disaster, all because there had to be two sides to a schism and both sides had to be at war: Uncle Monty's fabulous Reptile Room, because it held evidence that should have been found; Lucky Smells Lumbermill, because without it, Volunteers wouldn't have houses to live in; Prufrock Preparatory School, because without it, no more Volunteers could be recruited and their side of the schism would shrink; Heimlich Hospital, because the greed of a madman said it was a good idea; Caligari Carnival, because more evidence that should have been kept safe had to be destroyed; Countless V.F.D. headquarters and Volunteers' homes, because they were the enemy; And now, Isadora's house…
…Simply because she was too innocent.
It could have made perfect sense to Klaus, maybe if it had been at a different time. But it's a very hard thing, to make sense out of death, especially when it's staring you in the face and threatening to wrench your heart out.
For a silent and confusing moment, Klaus stood motionless, digesting what had happened. There were no tears, no words, no sighs or murmurs, just the dull, raw pain that was slowly beginning to eat away at his hope.
The whole place was entirely demolished, everything leveled to the ground. Not a thing was left standing; the only structure that remained was that doorframe, undoubtedly the iron one that had been the entrance to the library.
It's gone…All gone…
Wait…
There was a single wall that was still standing upright. One slab of wood left untouched.
Klaus quickly crossed the ashen lot and walked around to the other side of the wall. There was no reason why it shouldn't have been destroyed with the rest of the house; it was just another ordinary…
His eyes widened. There were things hanging on it. Pictures. Photographs. Countless memories, somehow unharmed.
This wasn't just another ordinary wall.
This was their wall.
Every portrait, every picture still hung in its rightful place, every face smiled down at him, oblivious to the ruin and misery that lay behind them. Familiar faces, old faces, young faces, faces of those who were no longer alive, this was where she had kept them; this was how they remembered the past, their past.
It was just another thing that made no sense to Klaus: For some reason, Isadora's Wall of Remembrance had survived the devastating blaze, for some reason it was the only thing that had. And every memory had survived with it.
No… Klaus realized, observing a large vacant spot on the wall. Something's missing.
Frantically he searched for the absent portrait. He couldn't lose this one; he needed it now.
Klaus halted abruptly when he felt something crunch beneath his foot. Slowly, he took a step backwards and crouched down to examine what it was that he had stepped on. He carefully brushed the broken glass of the picture frame away from the photograph and longingly stared at Isadora's smile, a cunning, compassionate smile he would never see again.
And then it finally hit him.
She's gone.
That's when the tears came, that's when everything fell apart. She was gone. Gone forever. This picture was the last Klaus would ever see of Isadora, his friend, his light, his life. She was gone.
She was dead.
Klaus fell to his knees and crumpled the picture in his fist. Why, why must these things always happen to him? First it was just his parents, and then it happened to everyone else he loved. They were all gone, they had all left him behind. He had no one. And although he did have Violet, who's to say that she wouldn't be gone soon also?
And if that ever did happen… Then he had no one.
Klaus buried his face in his hands and let the tears flow. He didn't hear the ding-ding of the trolley as it stopped in front of the house, didn't notice how everyone immediately flocked to crowd around the person who had just gotten off.
Such things went unnoticed to Klaus. Something was happening in his mind; one part was fiercely enraged, another was being tortured with overwhelming grief, a third part was trying in vain to make sense of it all, and all three were colliding and clashing and threatening to drive him insane.
"Oh Isadora…" he whispered. "Oh Izzy…"
Klaus jumped when he heard someone giggle behind him.
By some sort of reflex he had developed over the years, he shot up and whirled to face whoever was behind him all in one swift movement. But nothing could have prepared him for the shock he received at that moment.
There was a young woman standing there. She was slender and attractive, and wearing a long coat to keep out the approaching cold. She had short, glossy black hair and wide, beautiful eyes lined with long dark eyelashes that blinked at Klaus expectantly.
And there was that smile…
"You…You called me Izzy," she said shyly.
Klaus continued to gawk, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
Isadora shifted awkwardly. "I just…You know, I…I thought that was sweet," she explained.
She stared at her shoes for a moment, waiting for Klaus to reply. When he didn't, she looked up and raised her eyebrows at him as if to say, "Alright, I'm waiting, say something…"
Isadora suddenly frowned and looked closer at him. "Were you crying?"
She didn't get an answer, however, because before Klaus could say anything, he grabbed Isadora's arm and pulled her into a tight, desperate embrace that almost squeezed the air out of her.
Isadora coughed and patted him on the back. "I'm glad to see you too," she gasped.
"Oh Izzy," Klaus said, fresh tears of relief and profound elation pooling in his eyes. "Izzy, Izzy, Izzy, I'll call you that whenever you want, just don't leave me, please don't ever leave me."
"I won't, Klaus," Isadora whispered. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I won't if you won't."
"Anything, Izzy," Klaus replied, burying his face in her hair. "I'll do anything for you."
"Well, you could start by not crushing me."
"Oh, sorry." Klaus loosened his hold around her waist slightly but didn't let go. He pulled back and offered a sheepish smile. "I…I didn't know…"
Isadora grinned and absently fingered the corner of his jacket collar. "That's okay, it was just getting a little hard to breathe," she said. She brushed a stray tear from his cheek and sighed, her smile growing fainter. "I'm sorry I worried you."
"I thought you were dead," he said quietly, not wanting to dwell on the prospect. "We called everywhere, but no one said they had seen you. The neighbors said you should have been at home this time of day and they didn't see you leave. Everyone was sure you were a goner." Klaus frowned and narrowed one eye in suspicion. "Where were you anyway?"
"Oh, shopping, running errands," Isadora answered quickly. "You know. Stuff."
"Stuff. Right."
Isadora smiled.
Klaus smiled with her.
"I'm so glad you're safe," he said after contentedly staring at her for a moment. "I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you."
She looked around, scanning the charred wreckage. Sighing again, Isadora tightened her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. "Wow…" she murmured. "It's all gone, isn't it?"
"No, not all of it." Klaus pointed behind them, turning so she could see the wall.
Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth opened in incredulity. "And this was the only thing that…?"
He nodded, grinning faintly at the mystified expression that veiled her face. "It's amazing, isn't it?"
"Yes…" Isadora breathed. A dreamy, serene look filled her eyes and Klaus could tell she was going into one of her poetic moods. "Fire can destroy homes, tear families apart and ruin lives…" She turned back to him and gazed deep into his pure eyes. "…But it can't take the memories," she finished quietly, her voice fading to a whisper.
And then a strange feeling began to engulf Klaus. Suddenly there was this desire of an indefinite kind, a need for something he didn't even know he didn't have. It was like a piece of his life was missing and he hadn't realized it until that moment. And now Klaus knew what it was.
Who it was.
There was something so…perfect about knowing Isadora was close by and that she cared for him, something perfect about the feeling of her arms around him. It was a strange, new emotion for Klaus; more like the advanced scale of what he had felt twinges of before. It was a sort of longing, a longing for completion, and for a part of him that only she could complete. And it was a feeling he liked.
"You'd think that with all this lousy weather, it would have rained or something," Isadora said breathlessly, her lips drawing closer to his.
"Yes," he agreed, tightening his arms around her, still staring intently into her wide, beautiful eyes. "Maybe none of this would have happened."
Isadora touched her forehead to his and Klaus could feel her eyelashes brush against his skin, her warm breath on his cheek. "That would have been a shame," she whispered.
Creeeak!
Isadora pulled back. "What was that?"
They both looked down. Before they could identify the noise, the weak wooden floor decided that it simply couldn't support their weight any longer. With a yelp and a crash, the two fell through and landed hard on the gray dirt floor below the house.
"Ow…my head…" Klaus moaned after lying there, dazed, for a moment.
"What just happened?" Isadora asked, sitting up and rubbing her head.
"I think the floor caved in," Klaus said, sitting up also. "And we landed in some sort of…" his jaw dropped as he looked deeper into the darkness.
"…Tunnel…"
Isadora frowned. "I don't remember finding any kind of trap door in the house," she said.
"Strange," Klaus mumbled, remembering the mysterious tunnels he and Violet had found under the theater. "Well, I guess the question now is, where does it lead?"
"Come on then, let's go explorin' around," Isadora said, standing up.
Klaus rubbed his aching skull. "Can't we just sit here for a while?"
Isadora grinned and pulled him up. "No, let's go. I want to find out why there are suddenly these tunnels under my house and how I didn't know sooner."
"Hey you guys!"
Klaus and Isadora looked up to see who was calling down to them. Violet was peering down through the hole in the floor.
"You see anything down there?" she asked.
"Just more tunnels," Klaus called back. He pointed at Isadora. "Hey Violet, check it out, Isadora's alive," Klaus said.
"Yeah, you're, like, the last to know, Klaus," she answered.
"Like, really?"
"Like, yeah."
Isadora laughed. "Come on down, you can, like, help us look around."
Violet lowered herself into the opening in the floor and surveyed the tunnel.
"Wow, this whole thing keeps getting weirder and weirder…" she murmured, squinting down the shaft. She turned to the others. "Well, shall we?"
Klaus and Isadora exchanged a look. "Lead the way," Klaus said.
Violet eyed them for a moment, grinning slightly in amused suspicion. Then she turned again and began to make her way through the hazy blackness.
The two followed after a brief, yet meaningful instant. Isadora reached out and hooked her finger around Klaus's, whispering, "So we won't get lost."
Klaus nodded and gently grasped her hand.
That would be a shame.
"Look, I think I see a light up there."
They had reached what seemed like a dead end, but sure enough, there was something shining down on them in tiny pinpricks of light.
"Maybe it's the trapdoor," Isadora said. "Try pushing it."
Klaus reached up and pressed on it to find that it was made of cold metal. "It's kind of heavy," he grunted, pushing with both hands now. Violet and Isadora tried lifting it with him, and, after being rained on by a short shower of dirt and gravel, finally got the door to open.
The three climbed out of the tunnel and realized that it had led to the middle of a very familiar road. Looking down, Klaus saw that the trapdoor had been a manhole cover.
"Let's get out of the street before a car hits us," Violet said, heading for the sidewalk.
Isadora pointed across the lane. "Look!"
The others turned and followed her astonished gaze. She was pointing at an old house, one that they all hoped never to see again. There was a long black car parked in the driveway. It had several small holes in the back of the trunk, undoubtedly punctured by several small bullets during some high-speed car chase that had occurred decades before.
"If it leads here…then…" Violet's voice trailed off as the whole situation finally clicked in her mind. "Let's take a look."
They cautiously crept around to the backyard of the darkly foreboding home, warily peering in through the windows and checking to see if they were being watched. Klaus froze when he caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure walking past a dust-coated window.
"There are people in there," Klaus hissed, ducking to avoid being seen. "Someone should go back and get help."
"From who?" Violet asked.
"The Volunteers."
Isadora's eyes opened wider. "The Volunteers? Who? Which ones?"
"All of them," Klaus decided. It was about time they all had that reunion everyone was talking about. And any Volunteer would come to the aid of his comrade. "You should go, Isadora. This might get dangerous anyway."
She frowned and looked unsure for a moment. "Alright," she said after thinking it over, somewhat hesitantly. "I'll be back soon." Isadora looked at Klaus. "Be careful."
Klaus watched her as she turned and walked away. I will if you will.
He heard Violet gasp behind him. "Klaus," she said, her voice faint and shaky. "Look up."
Klaus whirled around and looked up, past the ivy lattice, past the bedroom balcony, and up at the tower. There was an iron bar protruding from the bricks outside the window. Hanging from it was an old, rusty cage.
Someone was in it.