3.
. . .
"So you've met them?"
He handed me a picture. Three of them there were, facing about, under a sign that read "Damocles Dock."
"Of course I have," the man before me said. Apparently he's here to research on something, just when I was about to leave the house. It's been a while since I lived in this house I never owned at all, so it might just be time to look for my siblings. Looking around, it's clear there have been reptiles in this room, just as he said.
"Their parents were of our closest friends. Around the last time I saw those children, they were already about nine or ten years old," he continued.
"…Particularly who was nine or ten years old then?" I asked. Of course, he could have meant the eldest, the girl in the photograph. And he did.
"Ah, yes. The eldest, that is. Her name is Violet. Violet Baudelaire," he replied.
"Violet..?"
I know I've heard that name before. But when? I couldn't have read about it, of course, so I might have overheard Mom and Dad maybe talk about this girl. But, ...no. It's been longer, farther away from now, that I last heard of that name...
Before I knew it, I was repeating the same name to myself. Argh. Jacques caught me. And he started teasing me.
"You're not saying her name again and again, aren't you?" he said, grinning at me. He couldn't have meant, "You're not too fond of her, now, aren't you,"...right?
"...I've heard that name before." I sighed. "But I can't remember where or when. I don't even know if I've met someone else sharing the same name, or just heard it around sometime before."
"She's just about your age, I guess," continued Jacques. "She's a great inventor. She once showed me her automatic rolling pin she said won her a prize when she was five. She also showed me her self-made pilotless helicopter she worked on for only less than a month, her latest invention when we last met."
"An inventor, huh." I pondered awhile on how resourceful she could have been to create so many good things just by herself. "That sounds kind of fascinating. Not everyone can invent at so young an age."
"Well, not everyone can also draw maps so well," he replied. I smiled. It's very rare to find kind adults now that you're orphaned. I stopped to sigh on my thoughts, when he surprised me a bit as he continued.
"Quigley," Jacques said, "when you meet them, please befriend them. This might be an odd favor, but please help them get away from the evils of this world that lay behind them on their tracks. Who knows how much of help you could be to them." Eventually, he, too, sighed.
"Well anyways, I've found lots of books in Dr. Montgomery's library that could help me, but all of them are on reptiles, and none on the file to vindicate my brother. I'll be checking the other side of the library to be sure."
I looked back at the picture Jacques left on the table for me to look at. I do hope I can meet those Baudelaires someday, not only because they seem to be fascinating people, but because they share the same fate I do, as a Quagmire. Don't worry, Jacques, I'll befriend them and try to keep them safe if ever I meet them.
If I wasn't able to keep my siblings safe on the day of the fire, even separating myself from them and worrying them, this time, when I meet the Baudelaires, I'll do everything I can to not separate myself from those I can be with.
At least for now, I can promise.