“They’ve already anesthetized the bratty orphan,” Esmé said, “so you ladies merely need to go to her room and bring her to the operating theater. I’m going to try to find that sniveling bookworm and that stupid baby with the oversized teeth. Mattathias says I get to choose which one to keep alive in order to force Mr. Poe to give us the fortune, and which one I get to rip to shreds.”
“Good,” Klaus said, trying to sound fierce and villainous. “I’m so tired of chasing those kids around.”
“Me, too,” Esmé said, and the enormous assistant nodded in agreement. “But I’m sure this will be the last time. Once we’ve destroyed the file, nobody can accuse us of any crimes, and once we murder the orphans, the fortune will be ours.”
The villainous woman paused and looked around her to make sure no one was listening, and then, satisfied that no one could hear her, she laughed wildly in triumph. The enormous assistant laughed, too, an odd laugh that sounded like a squeal and a howl at the same time, and the two Baudelaire youngsters tilted back their masked faces and made noises as if they were laughing, too, although their laughter was as spurious as their disguises. Klaus and Sunny felt more like being sick than laughing as they pretended to be as greedy and evil as Count Olaf and his troupe. It had never occurred to the children how these terrible people acted when they didn’t have to pretend to be nice, and the two siblings were horrified to hear all the bloodthirsty things Esmé had said. Watching Esmé and the enormous assistant laugh together made the butterflies in the Baudelaire stomachs flutter all the more, and the youngsters were relieved when Esmé finally stopped laughing, and ushered the children into the Surgical Ward.
“I’ll leave you ladies in the hands of our associates,” she said, and the Baudelaires immediately saw with horror what she meant. Esmé shut the door behind them, and the children found themselves facing two more of Count Olaf’s wicked associates.
“Well, hello there,” the first one said in a sinister voice, pointing at the two children with an odd-looking hand. One of the fingers was curved at an odd angle while the others hung limp, like socks hung out to dry, and Klaus and Sunny could see at once that this was the associate of Olaf who had hooks instead of hands, wearing rubber gloves to hide his unusual and dangerous appendages. Behind him was a man whose hands were not as familiar, but Klaus and Sunny recognized him just as easily, due to the hideous wig he was wearing on his head. The wig was so limp, white, and curly that it looked like a heap of dead worms, which is not the sort of wig one forgets. The children had certainly not forgotten it from when they had been living in Paltryville, and realized at once that this person was the bald man with the long nose who had been assisting Count Olaf since the Baudelaires’ troubles began. The hook-handed man and the bald man with the long nose were among the nastiest members of Olaf’s troupe, but unlike the majority of nasty people of this earth, they were also quite clever, and the two young siblings felt the butterfly feeling in their stomachs increase exponentially—a phrase which here means “get much, much worse”—as they waited to see if these two associates were clever enough to see through the children’s disguises.
“I can see through your disguise,” the hook-handed man continued, and placed one of his spurious hands on Klaus’s shoulder.
“Me, too,” the bald man said, “but I don’t think anyone else will. I don’t know how you ladies managed to do it, but you look much shorter in those white coats.”
“And your faces don’t look as pale in those surgical masks,” the hook-handed man agreed. “These are the best disguises Olaf—I mean Mattathias—has ever cooked up.”
“We don’t have time for all this talking,” Klaus said, hoping that the associates wouldn’t recognize his voice, either. “We’ve got to get to Room 922 right away.”
“You’re right, of course,” the hook-handed man said. “Follow us.”
The two associates began walking down the hallway of the Surgical Ward as Klaus and Sunny looked at one another in relief.
“Gwit,” Sunny murmured, which meant “They didn’t recognize us either.”
“I know,” Klaus replied in a whisper. “They think we’re the two powder-faced women, disguised as associates of Dr. Flacutono, instead of two children disguised as the two powder-faced women disguised as associates of Dr. Flacutono.”
“Stop all that whispering about disguises,” the bald man said. “If anyone hears you, it’ll be the end of us.”
“Instead of the end of Laura V. Bleediotie,” the hook-handed man said with a sneer. “I’ve been waiting to get hooks on her since she escaped from marrying Mattathias.”
“Trapped,” Sunny said, sneering as best she could.
“Trapped is right,” the bald man said. “I already gave her the anesthetic, so she’s unconscious. All we have to do is lead her to the operating theater, and you can saw her head off.”
“I still don’t understand why we have to murder her in front of all those doctors,” the hook-handed man said.
“So it can look like an accident, you idiot,” the bald man snarled in reply.
“I’m not an idiot,” the hook-handed man said, stopping to glare at his fellow associate. “I’m physically handicapped.”
“Just because you’re physically handicapped doesn’t mean you’re mentally clever,” the bald man said.
“And just because you’re wearing an ugly wig,” the hook-handed man said, “doesn’t mean you can insult me.”
“Stop all this arguing!” Klaus said. “The sooner we can operate on Laura V. Bleediotie, the sooner we’ll all be rich.”
“Yes!” Sunny said.
The two criminals looked down at the Baudelaires, and then nodded at one another sheepishly. “The ladies are right,” the hook-handed man said. “We shouldn’t behave unprofessionally, just because it’s been a very stressful time at work.”
“I know,” the bald man said with a sigh. “It seems like we’ve been following these three orphans forever, only to have them slip out of our grasp at the last minute. Let’s just focus on getting the job done, and work out our personal problems later. Well, here we are.”
The four disguised people had reached the end of a hallway and were standing in front of a door marked “Room 922,” with the name “Laura V. Bleediotie” scrawled on a piece of paper and taped beneath. The bald man took a key out of the pocket in his medical coat, and unlocked the door with a triumphant grin. “Here she is,” he said. “Our little sleeping beauty.”
The door opened with a long, whiny creak, and the children stepped inside the room, which was square and small and had heavy shades over the windows, making it quite dark inside. But even in the dim light the children could see their sister, and they almost gasped at how dreadful she looked.
When the bald associate had mentioned a sleeping beauty, he was referring to a fairy tale that you have probably heard one thousand times. Like all fairy tales, the story of Sleeping Beauty begins with “Once upon a time,” and continues with a foolish young princess who makes a witch very angry, and then takes a nap until her boyfriend wakes her up with a kiss and insists on getting married, at which point the story ends with the phrase “happily ever after.” The story is usually illustrated with fancy drawings of the napping princess, who always looks very glamorous and elegant, with her hair neatly combed and a long silk gown keeping her comfortable as she snores away for years and years. But when Klaus and Sunny saw Violet in Room 922, it looked nothing like a fairy tale.
The eldest Baudelaire was lying on a gurney, which is a metal bed with wheels, used in hospitals to move patients around. This particular gurney was as rusty as the knife Klaus was holding, and its sheets were ripped and soiled. Olaf’s associates had put her into a white gown as filthy as the sheets, and had twisted her legs together like vines. Her hair had been messily thrown over her eyes so that no one would recognize her face from The Daily Punctilio, and her arms hung loosely from her body, one of them almost touching the floor of the room with one limp
finger. Her face was pale, as pale and empty as the surface of the moon, and her mouth was open slightly in a vacant frown, as if she were dreaming of being pricked with a pin. Violet looked like she had dropped onto the gurney from a great height, and if it were not for the slow and steady rise of her chest as she breathed, it would have looked like she had not survived the fall. Klaus and Sunny looked at her in horrified silence, trying not to cry as they gazed at their helpless sister.
“She’s a pretty one,” the hook-handed man said, “even when she’s unconscious.”
“She’s clever, too,” the bald man said, “although her clever little brain won’t do her any good when her head has been sawed off.”
“Let’s hurry up and go to the operating theater,” the hook-handed man said, beginning to move the gurney out of the room. “Mattathias said the anesthetic would last for only a little while, so we’d best start the cranioectomy.”
“I wouldn’t mind if she woke up in the middle of it,” the bald man said with a giggle, “but I suppose that would ruin the plan. You ladies take the head end. I don’t like to look at her when she’s frowning like that.”
“And don’t forget the knife,” the hook-handed man said. “Dr. Flacutono and I will be supervising, but you two will actually perform the operation.”
The two children nodded, afraid that if they tried to speak, the two henchmen would hear how anxious they were and become suspicious. In silence they took their places at the gurney where their sister lay without moving. The Baudelaires wanted to gently shake her by the shoulders, or whisper in her ear, or even just brush the hair away from her eyes—anything at all to help their unconscious sibling. But the two youngsters knew that any affectionate gesture would give away their disguise, so they just walked alongside the gurney, clutching the rusty knife, as the two men led the way out of Room 922 and through the halls of the Surgical Ward. With every step, Klaus and Sunny watched their sister carefully, hoping for a sign that the anesthesia was wearing off, but Violet’s face remained as still and blank as the sheet of paper on which I am printing this story.
Although her siblings preferred to think about her inventing abilities and conversational skills rather than her physical apperance, it was true, as the hook-handed man had said, that Violet was a pretty one, and if her hair had been neatly combed, instead of all tangled up, and she had been dressed in something elegant and glamorous, instead of a stained gown, she might indeed have looked like an illustration from “Sleeping Beauty.” But the two younger Baudelaires did not feel like characters in a fairy tale. The unfortunate events in their lives had not begun with “Once upon a time,” but with the terrible fire that had destroyed their home, and as Olaf’s associates led them to a square metal door at the end of the hallway, Klaus and Sunny feared that their lives would not end like a fairy tale either. The label on the door read “Operating Theater,” and as the hook-handed man opened it with one curved glove, the two children could not imagine that their story would end with “happily ever after.”
CHAPTER
Eleven
Operating theaters are not nearly as popular as dramatic theaters, musical theaters, and movie theaters, and it is easy to see why. A dramatic theater is a large, dark room in which actors perform a play, and if you are in the audience, you can enjoy yourself by listening to the dialog and looking at the costumes. A musical theater is a large, dark room in which musicians perform a symphony, and if you are in the audience, you can enjoy yourself by listening to the melodies and watching the conductor wave his little stick around. And a movie theater is a large, dark room in which a projectionist shows a film, and if you are in the audience, you can enjoy yourself by eating popcorn and gossiping about movie stars. But an operating theater is a large, dark room in which doctors perform medical procedures, and if you are in the audience, the best thing to do is to leave at once, because there is never anything on display in an operating theater but pain, suffering, and discomfort, and for this reason most operating theaters have been closed down or have been turned into restaurants.
I’m sorry to say, however, that the operating theater at Heimlich Hospital was still quite popular at the time this story takes place. As Klaus and Sunny followed Olaf’s two disguised associates through the square metal door, they saw that the large, dark room was filled with people. There were rows of doctors in white coats who were clearly eager to see a new operation being performed. There were clusters of nurses sitting together and whispering with excitement about the world’s first cranioectomy. There was a large group of Volunteers Fighting Disease who seemed ready to burst into song if needed. And there were a great many people who looked like they had simply walked over to the operating theater to see what was playing. The four disguised people wheeled the gurney onto a small bare stage, lit by a chandelier that was hanging from the ceiling, and as soon as the light of the chandelier fell on Klaus and Sunny’s unconscious sister, all of the audience members burst into cheers and applause. The roar from the crowd only made Klaus and Sunny even more anxious, but Olaf’s two associates stopped moving the gurney, raised their arms, and bowed several times.
“Thank you very much!” the hook-handed man cried. “Doctors, nurses, Volunteers Fighting Disease, reporters from The Daily Punctilio, distinguished guests, and regular people, welcome to the operating theater at Heimlich Hospital. I am Dr. O. Lucafont, and I will be your medical host for today’s performance.”
“Hooray for Dr. Lucafont!” a doctor cried, as the crowd burst into applause again, and the hook-handed man raised his rubber-gloved hands and took another bow.
“And I am Dr. Flacutono,” the bald man announced, looking a bit jealous of all the applause the hook-handed man was getting. “I am the surgeon who invented the cranioectomy, and I am thrilled to operate today in front of all you wonderful and attractive people.”
“Hooray for Dr. Flacutono!” a nurse shouted, and the crowd applauded again. Some of the reporters even whistled as the bald man bowed deeply, using one hand to hold his curly wig on his head.
“The surgeon is right!” the hook-handed man said. “You are wonderful and attractive, all of you! Go on, give yourselves a big hand!”
“Hooray for us!” a volunteer cried, and the audience applauded another time. The two Baudelaires looked at their older sister, hoping that the noise of the crowd would wake her up, but Violet did not move.
“Now, the two lovely ladies you see are two associates of mine named Dr. Tocuna and Nurse Flo,” the bald man continued. “Why don’t you give them the same wonderful welcome you gave us?”
Klaus and Sunny half expected someone in the crowd to shout, “They aren’t medical associates! They’re those two children wanted for murder!” but instead the crowd merely cheered once more, and the two children found themselves waving miserably at the members of the audience. Although the youngsters were relieved that they hadn’t been recognized, the butterflies in their stomachs only got worse as everyone in the operating theater grew more and more eager for the operation to begin.
“And now that you’ve met all of our fantastic performers,” the hook-handed man said, “let the show begin. Dr. Flacutono, are you ready to begin?”
“I sure am,” the bald man said. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, as I’m sure you know, a cranioectomy is a procedure in which the patient’s head is removed. Scientists have discovered that many health problems are rooted in the brain, so that the best thing to do with a sick patient is remove it. However, a cranioectomy is as dangerous as it is necessary. There is a chance that Laura V. Bleediotie might die while the operation is being performed, but sometimes one must risk accidents in order to cure illness.”
“A patient’s death would certainly be a terrible accident, Dr. Flacutono,” the hook-handed man said.
“It sure would, Dr. O. Lucafont,” the bald man agreed. “That’s why I’m going to have my associates perform the surgery, while I supervise. Dr. Tocuna and Nurse Flo, you may begin.”
The cro
wd applauded once more, and Olaf’s associates bowed and blew kisses to each corner of the operating theater as the two children looked at one another in horror.
“What can we do?” Klaus murmured to his sister, looking out at the crowd. “We’re surrounded by people who expect us to saw Violet’s head off.”
Sunny looked at Violet, still unconscious on the gurney, and then at her brother, who was holding the long, rusty knife Esmé had given him. “Stall,” she said. The word “stall” has two meanings, but as with most words with two meanings, you can figure out which meaning is being used by looking at the situation. The word “stall,” for example, can refer to a place where horses are kept, but Klaus knew at once that Sunny meant something more along the lines of “We’ll try to postpone the operation as long as we can, Klaus,” and he nodded silently in agreement. The middle Baudelaire took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to think of something that could help him postpone the cranioectomy, and all at once he thought of something he had read.
When you read as many books as Klaus Baudelaire, you are going to learn a great deal of information that might not become useful for a long time. You might read a book that would teach you all about the exploration of outer space, even if you do not become an astronaut until you are eighty years old. You might read a book about how to perform tricks on ice skates, and then not be forced to perform these tricks for a few weeks. You might read a book on how to have a successful marriage, when the only woman you will ever love has married someone else and then perished one terrible afternoon. But although Klaus had read books on outer-space exploration, ice-skating tricks, and good marriage methods, and not yet found much use for this information, he had learned a great deal of information that was about to become very useful indeed.