Disclaimer: Me no own ASOUE. Can someone please clean up this vase? I ain't going to the ER for a cut foot, and I highly doubt you want to, either. -_-

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Chapter 4:
Torn
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"Sugar bowl?" I repeated. Did I hear him right? He's after a sugar bowl? I couldn't reunite with Duncan and Isadora because he was so desperate to get his hands on a piece of china?

"Yes," Jacques affirmed, sitting down at the desk and beginning to sift through the sea of papers. "My associate is entrusting me with it so I can safeguard it from the enemy. They've left it in the V.F.D. Headquarters for me to pick up, but they've changed the codes to get inside and I don't know what they are now. I need to find the new access codes, and they're inside a certain file in this house. If I don't find those codes and get the sugar bowl, things won't turn out well for the volunteers."

"Volunteers?" I asked.

"That's what we refer to our associates as," Jacques explained. "Like you and me? We're volunteers, whether we volunteer to join V.F.D. or not."

Why call people volunteers if they didn't even volunteer to join? It made no sense to me. And even then, why force somebody to be in an organization they didn't want to be a part of? I didn't volunteer to join V.F.D.. Nobody even asked me what I wanted. I didn't want to be part of it, whatever it was. But I didn't really have a choice. Jacques told me to stay here and learn under him rather than go find Duncan and Isadora. I wasn't afraid of rebelling against authority, but I only did it when things didn't make sense. Yet, ironically, here I was, still inquiring about "my new job". Why wasn't I leaving? What suddenly possessed me to stay here and be a part of something I wanted nothing to do with? "What does V.F.D. even stand for?" I asked, finally asking the million dollar question.

"Volunteer Fire Department. What we do is put out fires, literally and figuratively."

"So you're firemen." I was signing on to be a fireman? The way Jacques talked about it, it sounded like something much more seedy. Sinister, even.

"Yes and no. We do put out literal fires, but we also put out figurative fires."

"Figurative fires?"

"Fires that don't even involve fires."

I blinked at Jacques, watching him continue to flip through the pages he'd accumulated. I've never been so lost about something in my life. Already, my head was beginning to pound trying to figure all this stuff out. What did that even mean? Fires not even involving fires? "Fire is not always tangible, literal," I suddenly remembered Mother saying last night. "Sometimes it can be used as a metaphor, or figuratively." My eyes lit up, realizing at last what he meant. "So you solve problems."

Jacques looked up at me and smiled. "Precisely," he said.

I sighed with a faint, relieved smile. Finally, some of this was beginning to make sense. He––er, we––were part of an organization that was part firefighter, part problem-solver. That wasn't bad. In fact, it was quite the contrary. So how come I never heard about it before? How come no one's heard about V.F.D. before? If it was such a noble cause, why wasn't it mainstream? And why was Jacques acting so secretive about it? Paranoid, even? Saying that "our enemies are everywhere"? What enemies? Arsonists? Cranky neighbors? What enemies could we possibly have if all we did was help people and do the right thing?

Was there something more to this that Jacques wasn't telling me? Something…dark, perhaps?

"So how come no one else knows about it?" I asked.

"Not everybody is qualified to be a volunteer," Jacques told me. "Only certain people are allowed to be a part of it."

So it's a secret organization. Or, at least, known to very few. That explains the lack of mainstream attention. But even then, how did V.F.D. determine who was qualified to be in it and not? And what criteria did I have that made Jacques recruit me no problem? I hardly knew the guy for almost an hour and suddenly I'm qualified to be in a secret organization? My head began to throb again. "So what makes me so special, then?"

"V.F.D. takes people who have a certain gleam in their eye. People who are curious, capable, as my recruiter once told me. People who have a strong sense of justice that wish to stand up to the evils of the world, even if it costs them their life."

My gaze turned serious. This wasn't just everyday simple problem-solving––this was something more. Standing up to the evils of the world. I thought about what was going on in the world right now, if I had the nerve to stand up to the dark side of humanity, even if it cost me my life. Cost me my hopes, my dreams of what I wanted in life. What I wanted to do, who I wanted to be. Would it all be worth it? Sacrificing everything I wanted for an occupation that swore to uphold peace and justice to their dying breath? Then again, it wasn't like I had a choice right now.

Yes you do, Quigley! my head screamed. Go! Run! Find Duncan and Isadora! Then you guys can run away from Prufrock Preparatory School and figure out what to do next!

The voice inside my head had a point. The greatest of points. I wasn't bound by Jacques, not literally. I could run away. Forget about all of this. Start a new life with my siblings, whatever that meant. But, my feet didn't move. I was glued to the floor. Despite what my head and heart were yelling at me, I remained in front of the desk Jacques was sitting at. Why? Why am I not running? Why am I still here? Why am I still asking questions about something I have no interest in?

"Oh," I looked away, fearing Jacques would see the conflict in my eyes. "I don't know if I can do it, Jacques."

To my surprise, Jacques didn't look offended. In fact, he watched patiently as I wrestled with myself. "I thought the exact same thing when I was recruited," he admitted quietly. "And so did your parents when they were recruited. But you'll do just fine. I know you will. I know what you stand for."

Wait, Mother and Father were in V.F.D.? They were a part of this secret organization? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Is that why they were gone for so long every now and then, was because they were out fighting fires and standing up to the evils of the world? I thought back to when I'd asked Father how he hurt his leg after he and Mother got home yesterday. He said he'd broke it while breaking out of a prison in Peru. But, what did breaking out of a prison have to do with fighting fires and standing up to the evils of the world? What was this secret organization really? "How do you know what I stand for?" I asked, almost accusingly. "You haven't even known me for an hour."

Jacques leaned forward, folding his hands. "I know more about you than you think, Quigley," he said. "I've known all about you since you were born."

My insides began to quiver. How come he knew about me, but I didn't know about him? How come I didn't know about anything going on right now? Why did Mother and Father keep V.F.D., Jacques, the tunnels under our mansion, and everything else a secret from me? If it was a noble organization, though secret and exclusive, how come Duncan, Isadora, and I––children of volunteers––didn't even know about it? The rest of the world, fine, but us? How could Mother and Father be a part of a secret organization and not tell us about it at least? That would've made things so much easier, if not more intriguing.

What the hell is going on here? What was V.F.D. really?

"How come I don't know you? How come I don't know anything about this damn organization?!" I demanded hotly, finally fed up with all the secrets. By the way, inner conspiracy theorist? I'm so sorry for how I treated you. "If you guys do noble things, why are you, Mother, and Father being all secretive and paranoid about it? What is V.F.D. really?!"

Jacques was silent for what felt like forever. Normally, I don't yell back at adults like that, and I was terribly sorry for doing so, but I just couldn't take it anymore. These past twelve hours have been the most mind-bending, turbulent hours of my life, and I was starting to crack under all the pressure. I just wanted Jacques to tell me the truth. I wouldn't judge him, I wouldn't anything. I just wanted a straightforward answer to all of this. "In order to put out fires, we've had to start some, in both ways," he answered finally, his eyes cast downward in shame at the desk, lost in what appeared to be flashbacks. "I've done many things I'm not proud of. I wish I could erase all of it, start anew. But I can't."

"Why didn't you just tell me that from the get-go?" I asked softly. "I'm not gonna judge you, Jacques. I just wanna know about what's going on."

"It's too dangerous to know such things," Jacques said, looking up at me. "That's why your parents kept it a secret: so they could protect you. If you didn't know, you wouldn't have to worry. About them, what was gonna happen, any of it. They've done some things they're not proud of as well, and they feared that if they told you about what they really did, you three would think less of them. That, and you three were too young at the time to know about and truly understand V.F.D.. But now that you three are old enough, I think your parents wanted to take you to the V.F.D. Headquarters to show you the truth." He paused for a moment, deeply disturbed by recent events. "Anyway," he continued, bypassing the obvious that their intentions never came to fruition. "Now you know."

I was quiet for awhile. This flood of new information was beyond overwhelming. I don't know how much more I can take of this. "I think not telling us just made it worse," I pointed out after getting my bearings again.

Jacques nodded. "I agree. Maybe they could've told you a few years ago and you'd still be fine."

My blood began to boil. Why did Mother and Father underestimate our understanding of things? Treat us as if we'd never fully grasp what was going on? Sure, we were thirteen, we didn't know or understand everything about the world, but we weren't stupid. A simple explanation would've sufficed for us…although, it would've came with a slew of inquisitive questions, especially from Isadora and me. Them enlightening us on the matter would've definitely helped me out with my current circumstances. At least I could prepare somewhat and try to adapt from there. But flying solo with no vision was even more dangerous than this "information" Jacques was telling me about. Oh well. I can't do anything about it now. Nothing I did would change the outcome of the situation. All I could do was learn about all this and adapt as best as I could. Regardless of whether I wanted to be affiliated with V.F.D. or not, I had to stay. I at least had to know about what was truly going on around me. It was the only way I could truly adapt and move on from here without being blindsided again. "You mentioned at times you had to compromise your morals. If that was the case, then why didn't you, Mother, and Father just quit? Anything that compromises your morals isn't worth it."

"I wish it were that easy," Jacques said faintly, looking down at the desk again.

"It is," I replied, dumbfounded at his answer. "All you do is quit and move on."

"Our enemies don't see it that way," Jacques said, shaking his head.

I flinched, confused. Again with the "enemies" thing. What kind of "enemies" were Mother, Father, and Jacques up against exactly? "What do you mean?"

Jacques hesitated. "Even if we did quit, that wouldn't stop them from killing us."

My eyes widened, my heart tightening in apprehension. That's how bad these "enemies" were? The relationship between V.F.D. and their enemies sounded more like war: two or more parties doing whatever they could to stop their enemies from winning, even if it meant compromising their morals. I swallowed anxiously. I knew there was more to V.F.D., and here it came, full force. "I can't do this," I blurted, beginning to panic. "I don't wanna join V.F.D.. I never did." I turned around and began walking toward the door. "Thank you for telling me about all this, Jacques, but I want nothing to do with it. I just want a normal life that isn't on the line every day."

"I understand completely," Jacques called. "And I respect your decision. But it doesn't matter what you choose, Quigley. The enemy will hunt you down either way."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "What?" I gasped faintly, looking around at him, horrified.

Jacques nodded reluctantly. "You have a choice, and whichever you choose is fine with me. I won't try to sway you anymore. But I must warn you that whichever you choose, the enemy won't stop until you're dead. Volunteer or not."

My eyes bulged, my jaw dropping. There was no way out of this? I was screwed either way? I looked down at the floor, fighting to keep calm so I could think. If I chose to join V.F.D., the enemy would kill me. If I chose to run away, find Duncan and Isadora, and live a life away from V.F.D., the enemy would still kill me. I was dead either way I sliced this. I fell to my knees again, tears welling up in my eyes. I was just thirteen and already my life was over. But, I did have some choice in how I would go out. And I was going to seize every chance I got to control it, starting with this one. I wouldn't know what to do, what to look out for if I chose a life away from V.F.D.. I wouldn't know how to defend myself effectively against these enemies if they came for me, and I would definitely end up in the morgue. But, I would know what to do, what to look out for if I joined V.F.D.. I could effectively defend myself from these enemies if they came for me, and I would be doing humanitarian acts to better the world as I tried to stop them. The choice was ultimately mine, but funny enough, I had no choice. I truly had no choice this time.

I swallowed, preparing to carve my name on my tombstone. "Alright," I sighed weakly. "I'll join. I'll be your apprentice, Jacques. And I mean it this time."

Jacques smiled sadly. "Thank you for volunteering," he said.

At last, I looked up at him. Already, I felt different. I felt a swelling pride of who I was and what I did in my chest, and a determined fire to accomplish my missions burning fiercely in my heart. The Quigley Quagmire of 1313 Dreary Drive was no more, instead replaced by the Quigley Quagmire of the Volunteer Fire Department. No more was I a coward to new, frightening situations. Instead, I would be tackling them head-on. No more was I living a boring, predictable, safe life. Instead, I would be living a vagabond life with a crucial mission that carried dire consequences. No more was I a child entering puberty. Instead, I was a teenager entering adulthood. And it was time to show the world what I was made of.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up from the floor and walked back to Jacques with purpose in my stride, my face serious. "What's my first assignment?" I asked, my voice sturdy as a mighty oak.

Jacques grinned. "That's the Quigley I'm looking for," he said. "Our mission is to acquire the sugar bowl from the V.F.D. Headquarters, but first, we need the new access codes."

"Where might that file be?" I asked, walking around the desk to look at the mess of papers from a readable angle. From the looks of them, they were all notes and important documents.

"Somewhere in this house," Jacques replied, gathering the papers into one big stack. "I'll know it when I see it. Our enemies aren't too keen on reading, so I'm positive Dr. Montgomery placed the new access codes inside one of these many books to keep them safe."

"So we skim until we find them?" I said.

"Not skim," Jacques said, glancing at me. "Read."

Immediately, I walked over to the four bookcases and randomly chose a book. "I'll start reading, then," I said, then walked around the room, looking for a comfy chair to read in.

"And don't forget to take notes. Write them in your notebook, if you have one."

"I do," I replied, nodding.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Jacques snapped his fingers in realization as I continued my search for a place to land for the next few hours. "We need to find the Baudelaires. And fast."