When several people get along oddly well and have the same ideas and emotions about things, it can be said that they are kindred spirits. Normally, the word "kindred" refers to one's relatives, but that is not always true about "kindred spirits." A mother and daughter could be kindred spirits, for example, but two actors could also be kindred spirits if they both had difficulty memorizing their lines and got booed off the stage together. While sitting through a singularly horrible symphony recently, I exchanged several miserable looks with the woman sitting next to me, and we were kindred spirits in our despair and aching ears. And if you were having a particularly depressing day, you might feel that a slug was your kindred spirit, because you both move at a painfully slow pace and are liable to be crushed at any moment. Having a kindred spirit can make you feel a little better, even when you are most miserable, because it is often refreshing to know that another person is just as miserable as you are.
When they rose the next morning, the Baudelaires wondered if they'd find kindred spirits in the other orphans. They remembered their two friends, Duncan and Isadora Quagmire, who had also lost their parents as well as their brother Quigley to a terrible fire, how they'd instantly become friends at Prufrock Preparatory School, and how refreshing it had felt to have someone who understood the pain of being an orphan so well. Alas, the Quagmires were now in the clutches of Count Olaf because they had tried to help the Baudelaires, so the three were very worried about their kindred spirits. They hoped that if they could find kindred spirits in the Wammy's House's other orphans, the other orphans might help them find the Quagmires and stop Count Olaf once and for all.
Roger met them on the way down to breakfast. "Good morning, Vanessa, Kristian, and Sammi. I hope you slept well. Would you like to introduce yourselves to the others during breakfast?"
Klaus looked at his sisters. "That will be fine," he told Roger.
So they followed Roger down the stairs and into the cafeteria, where it seemed that most of the students had already gathered. They were of all different ages, from several years younger than Klaus to a few years older than Violet. The Baudelaires noticed that many of them looked as if they hadn't had enough sleep.
"Children, I'd like your attention," Roger called over their friendly chatter, which slowly died out as the crowd of orphans turned their heads to look at him and at the three new faces beside him. Roger motioned towards the Baudelaires. "These three are our new students, who will be staying with us for a while until their banker can find them a new guardian. Why don't you introduce yourselves?" That question was directed towards the Baudelaires themselves, and they stepped forward.
Though it was slightly embarrassing to be stared at by so many faces (faces which, oddly enough, didn't seem to need to blink) the siblings smiled pleasantly. "I'm Vanessa," said Violet.
"I'm Kristian," said Klaus.
"Sammi!" shrieked Sunny, to polite titters.
"Very good," said Roger. "I expect everyone to treat our new students with kindness and respect. Many unfortunate things have happened to them, and I'm sure they will appreciate your support." The other children nodded dutifully, took one last glance at the Baudelaires, and returned to their breakfasts. Roger turned to the three and told them, "You may pick your breakfast from the far side of the cafeteria and find somewhere to sit. I'm sure the children will be very welcoming to you. And remember, classes start at eight-thirty. Now, if there's nothing else you need to know, I will return to my study; I'm very busy."
"I think we'll be fine," Violet replied. "Thank you for everything."
"You're very welcome," Roger smiled, and they parted.
The Baudelaires found the selection in the cafeteria very much to their liking. Violet chose several pieces of toast with strawberry jam. Klaus helped himself to a plate of waffles. And Sunny was delighted to find that the orphanage offered a variety of biscotti, which are a type of hard Italian cookie often found in espresso bars. With their breakfasts decided on, they turned again to the sea of children and hoped that they would quickly find somewhere to sit.
That, however, turned out to be a simple matter, because a blonde-haired boy stood up in his chair almost at once and shouted, "New kids, over here! Sit with me!"
The Baudelaires gratefully made their way to his table and sat down. "Hello," they said politely.
"Hi," the boy replied. His blonde hair was long for a boy's, falling just short of his shoulders, and his eyes were wide and dark. "I'm Mello," he introduced himself, "and this is Matt." He pointed to the boy with dark auburn hair next to him, whose eyes were hidden by a pair of goggles and whose Pop-Tarts sat untouched. (He was busy playing a hand-held video game.) At his name, he looked up, gave the Baudelaires a cordial, "Yo," and returned to his game.
"It's nice to meet both of you," Klaus said.
"Same to you," Mello replied, taking a bite of Cocoa Puffs. "So, how do you like Wammy's House so far? Adjusting to your new names?"
"Kichekk," Sunny replied grumpily as she gnawed on her biscotti. She probably meant something along the lines of, "I much prefer the name my parents gave me."
Violet nodded in agreement and confessed, "It's a lot harder to get used to than I thought it would be."
"I know what you mean," Mello said, nodding sympathetically. "It makes you a little lonely for the first few weeks—sometimes I just want to hear my parents say my real name." He sighed, averting his eyes and looking forlorn.
The Baudelaires sighed too, because even when everyone around them called them by their real names, they knew that it was no substitute for hearing their beloved parents' voices.
"But…" Mello shrugged, seeming to pull himself together. "That's just what we do at The Wammy's House. Our home sweet home. You'll get used to it soon enough, don't worry."
"Why?" Sunny asked simply.
Mello looked at her, tilting his head. "Why what?"
Klaus patted Sunny's head and expanded her question. "Do you happen to know when and why this tradition of using fake names was started? It's quite unusual, and we can't help but be curious."
Mello turned his wide eyes on him and replied blandly, "I don't know. It started before I got here."
"Oh," the Baudelaires all said together in disappointment, and then there was a lull in the conversation, during which Matt finally switched off his game and took a bite of his Pop-Tart.
"So," Matt said to the Baudelaires, "Other than the names, what do you think of Wammy's House so far?"
"Well, Roger certainly has been very informative and helpful," Klaus admitted. "It seems like it will be very pleasant to stay here."
"We haven't had much of a chance to talk to the rest of the children yet, though," Violet added. "We happened to meet a boy called Near in the library yesterday, but…"
"Mogun," Sunny muttered, meaning, "He didn't say much."
Mello sniffed disdainfully. "He doesn't say much," he informed them. "There's no point in trying to deal with him. Stick with me and Matt, and we'll help you get used to this place."
He granted the Baudelaires an apparently friendly smile, which they easily returned. They found Mello unusually easy to get along with, and his ideas and emotions were so similar to their own. Violet appreciated his straightforwardness in answering their questions. Klaus was grateful for his honesty about how it felt to be called by a fake name all the time. And Sunny was pleased that he had called them over in the first place. Already, this boy who had also lost his kindred was beginning to seem like a kindred spirit whom they could trust.
But I'm sorry to say that Mello was misleading them. The answers he gave may have been straightforward, but they were not the truth. The emotions he showed might have been genuine, but I can guarantee that displaying them was intentional and just as fake as the name "Mello." And the invitation to eat with him had simply been a way to have this conversation and fool them into thinking they were kindred spirits. He was misleading them, and the poor Baudelaires had no way of knowing that he would simply use them as pieces in his constant competition.
That is not to say that his intentions were evil, only that they were hidden. Still, if I had been nearby at the time, I might have whispered to the Baudelaires not to trust him so easily—not to trust any of us so easily. I could have saved them a heap of bitter disappointment and betrayal. But I wasn't there, and Mello was, so despite the House's best efforts, the Baudelaires will emerge from this event in their lives just as miserable and alone as ever, with only each other for kindred spirits.