The End

  At first glance, the large, square, ragged object looked like a combination of everything the Baudelaires missed. It looked like a library, because the object seemed to be nothing more than stacks and stacks of books, piled neatly on top of one another in a huge cube. But it also looked like an invention, because wrapped around the cube of books, the way string is wrapped around a package, were thick straps that appeared to be made out of rubber, in varying shades of green, and on one side of the cube was affixed a large flap of battered wood. And it also looked like a fountain, as water was trickling out of it from all sides, leaking through the bloated pages of the books and splashing down to the sand of the coastal shelf. But although this was a very unusual sight, the children stared not at the cube but at something at the top of this strange contraption. It was a bare foot, hanging over the side of the cube as if there were someone sleeping on the top of all those books, and the Baudelaires could see, right on the ankle, a tattoo of an eye.

  "Olaf?" Sunny asked, but her siblings shook their heads. They had seen Count Olaf's foot more times than they would like to count, and this foot was much narrower and cleaner than the villain's.

  "Climb onto my back," Violet said to her brother. "Maybe we can hoist Sunny to the top."

  Klaus nodded, climbed carefully onto his sister's back, and then, very slowly, stood on Violet's shoulders. The three Baudelaires stood in a trembling tower, and Sunny reached out her little hands and pulled herself up, as she had pulled herself out of the elevator shaft at 667 Dark Avenue not so long ago, and saw the woman who was lying unconscious on top of the stack of books. She was dressed in a dress of dark red velvet, which was streaked and soaked from the rain, and her hair lay sprawled behind her like a wide, tangled fan. The foot that was hanging over the side of the cube was bent a strange, wrong way, but she looked otherwise unharmed. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was frowning, but her belly, full and round from her pregnancy, rose and fell with calm, deep breaths, and her hands, covered in long, white gloves, lay gently on her chest, as if she were comforting herself, or her child.

  "Kit Snicket," Sunny called down to her siblings, her voice hushed with amazement.

  "Yes?" replied a voice that was high-pitched and grating, a word which here means "irritating, and sadly familiar." From behind the cube of books, a figure stepped out to greet the children, and Sunny looked down and frowned as the tower of elder Baudelaires turned to face the person who was confronting them. This person was also wearing a talaric — a word which here means "just reaching the ankles" — dress that was streaked and soaked, although the dress was not just red but orange and yellow as well, the colors melting together as the person walked closer and closer to the children. This person was not wearing gloves, but a pile of seaweed had been arranged to resemble long hair, which cascaded hideously down this person's back, and although this person's belly was also full and round, it was full and round in an odd and unconvincing way. It would have been very unusual if the belly were genuine, because it was obvious from looking at the person's face that the person was not a woman, and pregnancy occurs very rarely in males, although the male seahorse is a creature that becomes pregnant from time to time.

  But this person, stepping closer and closer to the towered elder Baudelaires and gazing angrily up at the youngest, was no seahorse, of course. If the odd cube of books was trouble, then this man was treachery, and as is so often the case with treachery, his name was Count Olaf. Violet and Klaus stared at the villain, and Sunny stared at Kit, and then the three children looked out at the horizon, where other islanders who had spotted the strange object were heading toward them. Lastly, the Baudelaire orphans looked at one another, and wondered if a schism were so very far away after all, or if they had traveled a world away only to find all the trouble and treachery of the world staring them right in the face.

  Chapter Six

  At this point, you may find yourself recognizing all of the sad hallmarks of the Baudelaire orphans' sad history. The word «hallmarks» refers to something's distinguishing characteristics, such as the frothy foam and loud fizz that are the hallmarks of a root beer float, or the tearstained photographs and the loud fizz that are the hallmarks of a broken heart. Certainly the Baudelaires themselves, who as far as I know have not read their own sad history, but of course are its primary participants, had a queasy feeling in their stomachs as the islanders approached them, holding various items they had found while storm scavenging. It appeared that once again, after arriving in a strange new home, Count Olaf would fool everyone with his latest disguise, and the Baudelaires would once again be in grave danger. In fact, Count Olaf's talaric disguise did not even cover the tattoo of an eye he wore on his ankle, as the islanders, living so far from the world, would not know about this notorious mark and so could be fooled even more easily. But as the colonists drew close to the cube of books where Kit Snicket lay unconscious, suddenly the Baudelaires' history went contrary to expectations, a phrase which here means "The young girl they had first met on the coastal shelf recognized Count Olaf immediately."

  "That's Olaf!" Friday cried, pointing an accusatory finger at the villain. "Why is he dressed as a pregnant woman?"

  "I'm dressed as a pregnant woman because I am a pregnant woman," Count Olaf replied, in his high-pitched, disguised voice. "My name is Kit Snicket, and I've been looking everywhere for these children."

  "You're not Kit Snicket!" Mrs. Caliban cried.

  "Kit Snicket is up on this pile of books," Violet said indignantly, helping Sunny down from the top of the cube. "She's a friend of ours, and she may be hurt, or ill. But this is Count Olaf, who is no friend of ours."

  "He's no friend of ours, either," Friday said, and there was a murmur of agreement from the islanders. "Just because you've put something inside your dress to look pregnant, and thrown a clump of seaweed on your hair to make a wig, doesn't mean you won't be recognized." She turned to face the three children, who noticed for the first time that the islander had a suspicious bump under her robe, as if she, too, had hidden something under her clothing. "I hope he hasn't been bothering you. I told him specifically to go away."

  Count Olaf glared at Friday, but then turned to try his treachery on the other islanders. "You primitive people won't tell a pregnant woman to go away, will you?" he asked. "I'm in a very delicate condition."

  "You're not in a very delicate condition," said Larsen firmly. "You're in a very transparent disguise. If Friday says you're this Olaf person, then I'm sure you are, and you're not welcome here, due to your unkindness."

  "I've never been unkind in my life," Olaf said, running a bony hand through his seaweed. "I'm nothing but a fairly innocent maiden with my belly full of baby. It is the Baudelaires who have been unkind, along with this impostor sleeping on top of this damp library."

  "Library?" Fletcher said with a gasp. "We've never had a library on the island."

  "Ishmael said that a library was bound to lead to trouble," said Brewster, "so we were lucky that a book has never ended up on our shores."

  "You see?" Olaf said, his orange and yellow dress rustling in the morning breeze. "That treacherous woman up there has dragged these books to your colony, just to be unkind to you poor primitive people. And the Baudelaires are friends with her! They're the ones you should abandon here, and I should be welcomed to Olaf-Land and given gifts."

  "This island is not called Olaf-Land!" cried Friday. "And you're the one we abandoned!"

  "This is confusing!" cried Omeros. "We need a facilitator to sort this out!"

  " Omerosis right," said Calypso. "We shouldn't decide anything until we've talked to Ishmael. Come on, let's take all this detritus to Ishmael's tent."

  The colonists nodded, and a few villagers walked together to the cube of books and began to push it along the shelf. It was difficult work, and the cube shuddered as it was dragged along the bumpy surface. The Baudelaires saw Kit's foot bob violently up and down and feared that their friend would fall.

  "Sto
p," Klaus said. "It's not safe to move someone who may be seriously injured, particularly if she's pregnant."

  "Klaus is right," said Dr. Kurtz. "I remember that from my days in veterinary school."

  "If Muhammad will not come to the mountain," Rabbi Bligh said, using an expression that the islanders understood at once, "the mountain will come to Muhammad."

  "But how can Ishmael come here?" asked Erewhon. "He couldn't walk all this way with his injured feet."

  "The sheep can drag him here," said Sherman. "We can put his chair on the sleigh. Friday, you guard Olaf and the Baudelaires, while the rest of us will go fetch our facilitator."

  "And some more coconut cordial," said Madame Nordoff. "I'm thirsty and my seashell is almost empty."

  There was a murmur of agreement from the islanders, and they began to make their way back toward the island, still carrying all of the items they had found while scavenging. In a few minutes, the colonists were nothing more than faint shapes on the misty horizon, and the Baudelaires were alone with Count Olaf and with Friday, who took a big sip from her seashell and then smiled at the children.

  "Don't worry, Baudelaires," the girl said, holding one hand over the bulge in her robe. "We'll sort this out. I promise you that this terrible man will be abandoned once and for all."

  "I'm not a man," Olaf insisted in his disguised voice. "I'm a lady with a baby inside her."

  "Pellucid theatrics," Sunny said.

  "My sister's right," Violet said. "Your disguise isn't working."

  "Oh, I don't think you'd want me to stop pretending," the villain said. He was still talking in his ridiculous high-pitched voice, but his eyes shone brightly from behind his seaweed bangs. He reached behind him and revealed the harpoon gun, with its bright red trigger and one last harpoon ready to be fired. "If I were to say that I was Count Olaf, instead of Kit Snicket, I might begin behaving like a villain, rather than a noble person."

  "You've never behaved like a noble person," Klaus said, "no matter what name you've been using. And that weapon doesn't scare us. You only have one harpoon, and this island is full of people who know how wicked and unkind you are."

  "Klaus is right," Friday said. "You might as well put your weapon down. It's useless in a place like this."

  Count Olaf looked first at Friday, and then at the three Baudelaires, and he opened his mouth as if to say another treacherous thing in his disguised voice. But then he shut his mouth again, and glared down at the puddles of the coastal shelf. "I'm tired of wandering around here," he muttered. "There's nothing to eat but seaweed and raw fish, and everything valuable has been taken by all those fools in robes."

  "If you didn't behave so horridly," Friday said, "you could live on the island."

  The Baudelaires looked at one another nervously. Although it seemed a bit cruel to abandon Olaf on the shelf, they did not like the idea that he might be welcomed into the colony. Friday, of course, did not know the whole story of Count Olaf, and had only experienced his unkindness once, on the day she first encountered him, but the Baudelaires could not tell Friday the whole story of Olaf without telling the whole story of themselves, and they did not know what Friday would think of their own unkindnesses and treachery.

  Count Olaf looked at Friday as if thinking something over. Then, with a suspicious smile, he turned to the Baudelaires and held out the harpoon gun. "I suppose you're right," he said. "The harpoon gun is useless in a place like this." He was still talking in his disguised voice, and his hand caressed his false pregnancy as if there were actually a baby growing inside him.

  The Baudelaires looked at Olaf and then at the weapon. The last time the children had touched the harpoon gun, the penultimate harpoon had fired and a noble man by the name of Dewey had been killed. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny would never forget the sight of Dewey sinking into the waters of the pond as he died, and looking at the villain offering them the weapon only reminded them of how dangerous and terrible the weapon was.

  "We don't want that," Violet said.

  "Obviously this is some trick of yours," Klaus said.

  "It's no trick," Olaf said in his high-pitched voice. "I'm giving up my villainous ways, and I want to live with you on the island. I'm sorry to hear that you don't believe me."

  His face was very serious, as if he were very sorry to hear that, but his eyes were shiny and bright, the way they are when someone is telling a joke. "Fibber," Sunny said.

  "You insult me, madam," Olaf said. "I'm as honest as the day is long."

  The villain was using an expression that is used by many people despite the fact that it scarcely means anything at all. Some days are long, such as at the height of summer, when the sun shines for a very long time, or Halloween day, which always seems to last forever until it is finally time to put on one's costume and demand candy from strangers, and some days are short, particularly during the wintertime or when one is doing something enjoyable, such as reading a good book or following random people on the street to see where they will go, and so if someone is as honest as the day is long, they may not be honest at all. The children were relieved to see that Friday was not fooled by Olaf's use of a vague expression, and she frowned at the villain sternly.

  "The Baudelaires told me you were not to be trusted," the young girl said, "and I can see that they spoke the truth. You'll stay right here, Olaf, until the others arrive and we decide what to do with you."

  "I'm not Count Olaf," Count Olaf said, "but in the meantime, could I have a sip of this coconut cordial I heard mentioned?"

  "No," Friday said, and turned her back on the villain to gaze wistfully at the cube of books. "I've never seen a book before," she confessed to the Baudelaires. "I hope Ishmael thinks it's O.K. to keep them here."

  "You've never seen a book?" Violet said in amazement. "Do you know how to read?"

  Friday took a quick look around the coastal shelf, and then nodded her head quickly. "Yes," she said. "Ishmael didn't think it was a good idea to teach us, but Professor Fletcher disagreed, and held secret classes on the coastal shelf for those of us who were born on the island. From time to time, I keep in practice by sketching the alphabet in the sand with a stick, but without a library there's not much I can do. I hope Ishmael won't suggest that we let the sheep drag all these books to the arboretum."

  "Even if he does, you won't have to throw them away," Klaus reminded her. "He won't force you."

  "I know," Friday said with a sigh. "But when Ishmael suggests something, everybody agrees, and it's hard not to succumb to that kind of peer pressure."

  "Whisk," Sunny reminded her, and took the kitchen implement out of her pocket.

  Friday smiled at the youngest Baudelaire, but quickly put the item back in Sunny's pocket. "I gave you that whisk because you said you were interested in cooking," she said. "It seemed a shame to deny your interests just because Ishmael might not think a kitchen implement was appropriate. You'll keep my secret, won't you?"

  "Of course," Violet said, "but it's also a shame to deny your interest in reading."

  "Maybe Ishmael won't object," Friday said.

  "Maybe," Klaus said, "or maybe we could try a little peer pressure of our own."

  "I don't want to rock the boat," Friday said with a frown. "Ever since my father's death, my mother has wanted me to be safe, which is why we left the world far behind and decided to stay here on the island. But the older I get, it seems the more secrets I have. Professor Fletcher taught me secretly to read. Omeros taught me secretly to skip rocks, even though Ishmael says it's dangerous. I secretly gave Sunny a whisk." She reached into her robe, and smiled. "And now I have another secret, just for me. Look what I found curled up in a broken wooden crate."

  Count Olaf had been glaring silently at the children, but as Friday revealed her secret he let out a shriek even more high-pitched than his fake voice. But the Baudelaire orphans did not shriek, even though Friday was holding a frightening-looking thing, as dark as a coal mine and as thick as a sewer pipe, that uncurled
itself and quickly darted toward the three children. Even as the creature opened its mouth, the morning sun glinting on its sharp teeth, the Baudelaires did not shriek, but marveled that once again their history was going contrary to expectations.

  " Incredi!" Sunny cried, and it was true, for the enormous snake that was wrapping itself around the Baudelaires was, incredibly, a creature they had not seen for quite some time and never thought they would see again in their lives.

  "It's the Incredibly Deadly Viper!" Klaus said in amazement. "How in the world did it end up here?"

  "Ishmael said that everything eventually washes up on the shores of this island," Violet said, "but I never thought I'd see this reptile again."

  "Deadly?" Friday asked nervously. "Is it poisonous? It seemed friendly to me."

  "It is friendly," Klaus reassured her. "It's one of the least deadly and most friendly creatures in the animal kingdom. Its name is a misnomer."