The Bad Beginning - Snicket Lemony - Страница 3

``Here we are,'' Mr. Poe said, in a voice undoubtedly meant to be cheerful. ``Your new home.''

The Baudelaire children looked out and saw the prettiest house on the block. The bricks had been cleaned very well, and through the wide and open windows one could see an assortment of well-groomed plants. Standing in the doorway, with her hand on the shiny brass doorknob, was an older woman, smartly dressed, who was smiling at the children. In one hand she carried a flowerpot.

``Hello there!'' she called out. ``You must be the children Count Olaf is adopting.''

Violet opened the door of the automobile and got out to shake the woman's hand. It felt firm and warm, and for the first time in a long while Violet felt as if her life and the lives of her siblings might turn out well after all. ``Yes,'' she said. ``Yes, we are. I am Violet Baudelaire, and this is my brother Klaus and my sister Sunny. And this is Mr. Poe, who has been arranging things for us since the death of our parents.''

``Yes, I heard about the accident,'' the woman said, as everyone said how do you do. ``I am Justice Strauss.''

``That's an unusual first name,'' Klaus remarked.

``It is my title,'' she explained, ``not my first name. I serve as a judge on the High Court.''

``How fascinating,'' Violet said. ``And are you married to Count Olaf?''

``Goodness me no,'' Justice Strauss said. ``I don't actually know him that well. He is my next-door neighbor.''

The children looked from the well-scrubbed house of Justice Strauss to the dilapidated one next door. The bricks were stained with soot and grime. There were only two small windows, which were closed with the shades drawn even though it was a nice day. Rising above the windows was a tall and dirty tower that tilted slightly to the left. The front door needed to be repainted, and carved in the middle of it was an image of an eye. The entire building sagged to the side, like a crooked tooth.

``Oh!'' said Sunny, and everyone knew what she meant. She meant, ``What a terrible place! I don't want to live there at all!''

``Well, it was nice to meet you,'' Violet said to Justice Strauss.

``Yes,'' said Justice Strauss, gesturing to her flowerpot. ``Perhaps one day you could come over and help me with my gardening.''

``That would be very pleasant,'' Violet said, very sadly. It would, of course, be very pleasant to help Justice Strauss with her gardening, but Violet could not help thinking that it would be more pleasant to live in Justice Strauss's house, instead of Count Olaf's. What kind of a man, Violet wondered, would carve an image of an eye into his front door?

Mr. Poe tipped his hat to Justice Strauss, who smiled at the children and disappeared into her lovely house. Klaus stepped forward and knocked on Count Olaf's door, his knuckles rapping right in the middle of the carved eye. There was a pause, and then the door creaked open and the children saw Count Olaf for the first time.

``Hello hello hello,'' Count Olaf said in a wheezy whisper. He was very tall and very thin, dressed in a gray suit that had many dark stains on it. His face was unshaven, and rather than two eyebrows, like most human beings have, he had just one long one. His eyes were very, very shiny, which made him look both hungry and angry. ``Hello, my children. Please step into your new home, and wipe your feet outside so no mud gets indoors.''

As they stepped into the house, Mr. Poe behind them, the Baudelaire orphans realized what a ridiculous thing Count Olaf had just said. The room in which they found themselves was the dirtiest they had ever seen, and a little bit of mud from outdoors wouldn't have made a bit of difference. Even by the dim light of the one bare lightbulb that hung from the ceiling, the three children could see that everything in this room was filthy, from the stuffed head of a lion which was nailed to the wall to the bowl of apple cores which sat on a small wooden table.

Klaus willed himself not to cry as he looked around.

``This room looks like it needs a little work,'' Mr. Poe said, peering around in the gloom.

``I realize that my humble home isn't as fancy as the Baudelaire mansion,'' Count Olaf said, ``but perhaps with a bit of your money we could fix it up a little nicer.''

Mr. Poe's eyes widened in surprise, and his coughs echoed in the dark room before he spoke.

``The Baudelaire fortune,'' he said sternly, ``will not be used for such matters. In fact, it will not be used at all, until Violet is of age.''

Count Olaf turned to Mr. Poe with a glint in his eye like an angry dog. For a moment Violet thought he was going to strike Mr. Poe across the face. But then he swallowed-the children could see his Adam's apple bob in his skinny throat-and shrugged his patchy shoulders.

``All right then,'' he said. ``It's the same to me. Thank you very much, Mr. Poe, for bringing them here. Children, I will now show you to your room.''

``Good-bye, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny,'' Mr. Poe said, stepping back through the front door. ``I hope you will be very happy here. I will continue to see you occasionally, and you can always contact me at the bank if you have any questions.''

``But we don't even know where the bank is,'' Klaus said.

``I have a map of the city,'' Count Olaf said. ``Good-bye, Mr. Poe.''

He leaned forward to shut the door, and the Baudelaire orphans were too overcome with despair to get a last glimpse of Mr. Poe. They now wished they could all stay at the Poe household, even though it smelled. Rather than looking at the door, then, the orphans looked down, and saw that although Count Olaf was wearing shoes, he wasn't wearing any socks. They could see, in the space of pale skin between his tattered trouser cuff and his black shoe, that Count Olaf had an image of an eye tattooed on his ankle, matching the eye on his front door. They wondered how many other eyes were in Count Olaf's house, and whether, for the rest of their lives, they would always feel as though Count Olaf were watching them even when he wasn't nearby.

Chapter Three

I don't know if you've ever noticed this, but first impressions are often entirely wrong. You can look at a painting for the first time, for example, and not like it at all, but after looking at it a little longer you may find it very pleasing. The first time you try Gorgonzola cheese you may find it too strong, but when you are older you may want to eat nothing but Gorgonzola cheese. Klaus, when Sunny was born, did not like her at all, but by the time she was six weeks old the two of them were thick as thieves. Your initial opinion on just about anything may change over time.

I wish I could tell you that the Baudelaires' first impressions of Count Olaf and his house were incorrect, as first impressions so often are. But these impressions-that Count Olaf was a horrible person, and his house a depressing pigsty-were absolutely correct. During the first few days after the orphans arrival at Count Olaf's, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny attempted to make themselves feel at home, but it was really no use. Even though Count Olaf's house was quite large, the three children were placed together in one filthy bedroom that had only one small bed in it. Violet and Klaus took turns sleeping in it, so that every other night one of them was in the bed and the other was sleeping on the hard wooden floor, and the bed's mattress was so lumpy it was difficult to say who was more uncomfortable. To make a bed for Sunny, Violet removed the dusty curtains from the curtain rod that hung over the bedroom's one window and bunched them together to form a sort of cushion, just big enough for her sister. However, without curtains over the cracked glass, the sun streamed through the window every morning, so the children woke up early and sore each day. Instead of a closet, there was a large cardboard box that had once held a refrigerator and would now hold the three children's clothes, all piled in a heap. Instead of toys, books, or other things to amuse the youngsters, Count Olaf had provided a small pile of rocks. And the only decoration on the peeling walls was a large and ugly painting of an eye, matching the one on Count Olaf's ankle and all over the house.