The Carnivorous Carnival

Chapter Three

Besides getting several paper cuts in the same day or receiving the news that someone in your family has betrayed you to your enemies, one of the most unpleasant experiences in life is a job interview. It is very nerve-wracking to explain to someone all the things you can do in the hopes that they will pay you to do them. I once had a very difficult job interview in which I had not only to explain that I could hit an olive with a bow and arrow, memorize up to three pages of poetry, and determine if there was poison mixed into cheese fondue without tasting it, but I had to demonstrate all these things as well. In most cases, the best strategy for a job interview is to be fairly honest, because the worst thing that can happen is that you won't get the job and will spend the rest of your life foraging for food in the wilderness and seeking shelter underneath a tree or the awning of a bowling alley that has gone out of business, but in the case of the Baudelaire orphans' job interview with Madame Lulu, the situation was much more desperate. They could not be honest at all, because they were disguised as entirely different people, and the worst thing that could happen was being discovered by Count Olaf and his troupe and spending the rest of their lives in circumstances so terrible that the children could not bear to think of them.

"Sit down, please, and Lulu will interview you for carnival job," Madame Lulu said, gesturing to the round table where Olaf and his troupe were sitting. Violet and Klaus sat down on one chair with difficulty, and Sunny crawled onto another while everyone watched them in silence. The troupe had their elbows on the table and were eating the snacks Lulu had provided with their fingers, while Esmé Squalor sipped her buttermilk, and Count Olaf leaned back in his chair and looked at the Baudelaires very, very carefully.

"It seems to me you look very familiar," he said.

"Perhaps you have seen before the freaks, my Olaf," Lulu said. "What are names of the freaks?"

"My name is Beverly," Violet said, in her low, disguised voice, inventing a name as quickly as she could invent an ironing board. "And this is my other head, Elliot."

Olaf reached across the table to shake hands, and Violet and Klaus had to stop for a moment to figure out whose arm was sticking out of the right-hand sleeve. "It's very nice to meet you both," he said. "It must be very difficult, having two heads."

"Oh, yes," Klaus said, in as high a voice as he could manage. "You can't imagine how troublesome it is to find clothing."

"I was just noticing your shirt," Esmé said. "It's very in."

"Just because we're freaks," Violet said, "doesn't mean we don't care about fashion."

"How about eating?" Count Olaf said, his eyes shining brightly. "Do you have trouble eating?"

"Well, I–I mean, well, we–" Klaus said, but before he could go on, Olaf grabbed a long ear of corn from a platter on the table and held it toward the two children.

"Let's see how much trouble you have," he snarled, as his henchmen began to giggle. "Eat this ear of corn, you two-headed freak."

"Yes," Madame Lulu agreed. "It is best way to see if you can work in carnival. Eat corn! Eat corn!

Violet and Klaus looked at one another, and then reached out one hand each to take the corn from Olaf and hold it awkwardly in front of their mouths. Violet leaned forward to take the first bite, but the motion of the corn made it slip from Klaus's hand and fall back down onto the table, and the room roared with cruel laughter.

"Look at them!" one of the white-faced women laughed. "They can't even eat an ear of corn! How freakish!"

"Try again," Olaf said with a nasty smile. "Pick the corn up from the table, freak."

The children picked up the corn and held it to their mouths once more. Klaus squinted and tried to take a bite, but when Violet tried to move the corn to help him, it hit him in the face and everyone–except for Sunny, of course– laughed once more.

"You are funny freaks," Madame Lulu said. She was laughing so hard that she had to wipe her eyes, and when she did, one of her dramatic eyebrows smeared slightly, as if she had a small bruise above one eye. "Try again, Beverly-and-Elliot freak!"

"This is the funniest thing I've ever seen," said the hook-handed man. "I always thought people with birth defects were unfortunate, but now I realize they're hilarious."

Violet and Klaus wanted to point out that a man with hooks for hands would probably have an equally difficult time eating an ear of corn, but they knew that a job interview is rarely a good time to start arguments, so the siblings swallowed their words and began swallowing corn. After a few bites, the children began to get their bearings, a phrase which here means "figure out how two people, using only two hands, can eat one ear of corn at the same time," but it was still quite a difficult task. The ear of corn was greasy with butter that left damp streaks on their mouths or dripped down their chins. Sometimes the ear of corn would be at a perfect angle for one of them to bite, but would be poking the other one in the face. And often the ear of corn would simply slip out of their hands, and everyone would laugh yet again.

"This is more fun than kidnapping!" said the bald associate of Olaf's, who was shaking with laughter. "Lulu, this freak will have people coming from miles around to watch, and all it will cost you is an ear of corn!"

"Is true, please," Madame Lulu agreed, and looked down at Violet and Klaus. "The crowd loves sloppy eating," she said. "You are hired for House of Freaks show."

"How about that other one?" Esmé asked, giggling and wiping buttermilk from her upper lip. "What is that freak, some sort of living scarf?"

"Chabo!" Sunny said to her siblings. She meant something like, "I know this is humiliating, but at least our disguises are working!" but Violet was quick to disguise her translation.

"This is Chabo the Wolf Baby," she said, in her low voice. "Her mother was a hunter who fell in love with a handsome wolf, and this is their poor child."

"I didn't even know that was possible," said the hook-handed man.

"Grr," Sunny growled.

"It might be funny to watch her eat corn too," said the bald man, and he grabbed another ear of corn and waved it at the youngest Baudelaire. "Here Chabo! Have an ear of corn!"

Sunny opened her mouth wide, but when the bald man saw the tips of her teeth poking out through the beard, he yanked his hand back in fear.

"Yikes!" he said. "That freak is vicious!"

"She's still a bit wild," Klaus said, still speaking as high as he could. "In fact, we got all these horrible scars from teasing her."

"Grr," Sunny growled again, and bit a piece of silverware to demonstrate how wild she was.

"Chabo will be excellent carnival attraction," Madame Lulu pronounced. "People are always liking of violence, please. You are hired, too, Chabo."

"Just keep her away from me," Esmé said. "A wolf baby like that would probably ruin my outfit."

"Grr!" Sunny growled.

"Come now, freaky people," Madame Lulu said! "Madame Lulu will show you the caravan, please, where you will do the sleeping."

"We'll stay here and have more wine," Count Olaf said. "Congratulations on the new freaks, Lulu. I knew you'd have good luck with me around."

"Everyone does," Esmé said, and kissed Olaf on the cheek. Madame Lulu scowled, and led the children out of her caravan and into the night.

"Follow me, freaks, please," she said. "You will be living, please, in freaks' caravan. You will share with other freaks. There is Hugo, Colette, and Kevin, all freaks. Every day will be House of Freaks show. Beverly and Elliot, you will be eating of corn, please. Chabo, you will be attacking of audience, please. Are there any freaky questions?"

"Will we be paid?" Klaus asked. He was thinking that having some money might help the Baudelaires, if they learned the answers to their questions and had an opportunity to get away from the carnival.

"No, no, no," Madame Lulu said. "Madame Lulu will be giving no money to the freaks, please. If you are freak, you are lucky that someone will give you work. Look at man with hooks on hands. He is grateful to do the working for Count Olaf, even though Olaf will not be giving him of the Baudelaire fortune."

"Count Olaf?" Violet asked, pretending that her worst enemy was a complete stranger. "Is that the gentleman with one eyebrow?"

"That is Olaf," Lulu said. "He is brilliant man, but do not be saying the wrong things to him, please. Madame Lulu always says you must always give people what they want, so always tell Olaf he is brilliant man."

"We'll remember that," Klaus said.

"Good, please," Madame Lulu said. "Now, here is freak caravan. Welcome freaks, to your new home."

The fortune-teller had stopped at a caravan with the word freaks painted on it in large, sloppy letters. The letters were smeared and dripping in several places, as if the paint was still wet, but the word was so faded that the Baudelaires knew the caravan had been labeled many years ago. Next to the caravan was a shabby tent with several holes in it and a sign reading WELCOME TO THE HOUSE OF FREAKS, with a small drawing of a girl with three eyes. Madame Lulu strode past the sign to knock on the caravan's wooden door.

"Freaks!" Madame Lulu cried. "Please wake up, please! New freaks are here for you to say hello!"

"Just a minute, Madame Lulu," called a voice from behind the door.

"No just a minute, please," Madame Lulu said. "Now! I am the boss of the carnival!"

The door swung open to reveal a sleepy-looking man with a hunchback, a word which here means "a back with a hump near the shoulder, giving the person a somewhat irregular appearance." He was wearing a pair of pajamas that were ripped at the shoulder to make room for his hunchback, and holding a small candle to help him see in the dark. "I know you are the boss, Madame Lulu," the man said, "but it's the middle of the night. Don't you want your freaks to be well-rested?"

"Madame Lulu does not particularly care about sleep of freaks," Lulu said haughtily. "Please be telling the new freaks what to do for show tomorrow. The freak with two heads will be eating corn, please, and the little wolf freak will be attacking audience."

"Violence and sloppy eating," the man said, and sighed. "I guess the crowd will like that."

"Of course crowd will like," Lulu said, "and then carnival will get much money."

"And then maybe you'll pay us?" the man asked.

"Fat chance, please," Madame Lulu replied. "Good night, freaks."

"Good night, Madame Lulu," replied Violet who would have rather been called a proper name, even if it was one she invented, than simply "freak," but the fortune-teller walked away without looking back. The Baudelaires stood in the doorway of the caravan for a moment, watching Lulu disappear into the night, before looking up at the man and introducing themselves a bit more properly.

"My name is Beverly," Violet said. "My second head is named Elliot, and this is Chabo the Wolf Baby."

"Grr!" growled Sunny.

"I'm Hugo," the man said. "It'll be nice to have new coworkers. Come on inside the caravan and I'll introduce you to the others."

Still finding it awkward to walk, Violet and Klaus followed Hugo inside, and Sunny followed her siblings, preferring to crawl rather than walk, because it made her seem more half wolf. The caravan was small, but the children could see by the light of Hugo's candle that it was tidy and clean. There was a small wooden table in the center, with a set of dominoes stacked up in the center and several chairs grouped around. In one corner was a rack with clothing hung on it, including a long row of identical coats, and a large mirror so you could comb your hair and make sure you looked presentable. There was a small stove for cooking meals, with a few pots and pans stacked alongside it, and a few potted plants lined up near the window so they would get enough sunlight. Violet would have liked to add a small workbench she could use while inventing things, Klaus would have been pleased to be squinting at some bookshelves, and Sunny would have preferred to see a stack of raw carrots or other foods that are pleasant to bite, but otherwise the caravan looked like a cozy place to live. The only thing that seemed to be missing was someplace to sleep, but as Hugo walked farther into the room, the children saw that there were three hammocks, which are long, wide pieces of cloth used for beds, hanging from places on the walls. One hammock was empty–the Baudelaires supposed that this was where Hugo slept–but in another they could see a tall skinny woman with curly hair squinting down at them, and in the third was a man with a very wrinkled face who was still asleep.

"Kevin!" Hugo called up to the sleeping man. "Kevin, get up! We have new coworkers, and I'll need help setting up more hammocks."

The man frowned and glared down at Hugo. "I wish you hadn't woken me up," Kevin said. "I was having a delightful dream that there was nothing wrong with me at all, instead of being a freak."

The Baudelaires took a good look at Kevin as he lowered himself to the floor and were unable to see anything the least bit freakish about him, but he stared at the Baudelaires as if he had seen a ghost. "My word," he said. "You two have it as bad as I do."

"Try to be polite, Kevin," Hugo said. "This is Beverly and Elliot, and there on the floor is Chabo the Wolf Baby."

"Wolf Baby?" Kevin repeated, shaking Violet and Klaus's shared right hand. "Is she dangerous?"

"She doesn't like to be teased," Violet said.

"I don't like to be teased either," Kevin said, and hung his head. "But wherever I go, I hear people whispering, 'there goes Kevin, the ambidextrous freak.'"

"Ambidextrous?" Klaus said. "Doesn't that mean you are both right-handed and left-handed?"

"So you've heard of me," Kevin said. "Is that why you traveled out here to the hinterlands, so you could stare at somebody who can write his name with either his left hand or his right?"

"No," Klaus said. "I just know the word 'ambidextrous' from a book I read."

"I had a feeling you'd be smart," Hugo said. "After all, you have twice as many brains as most people."

"I only have one brain," Kevin said sadly. "One brain, two ambidextrous arms, and two ambidextrous legs. What a freak!"

"It's better than being a hunchback," Hugo said. "Your hands may be freaky, but you have absolutely normal shoulders."

"What good are normal shoulders," Kevin said, "when they're attached to hands that are equally good at using a knife and fork?"

"Oh, Kevin," the woman said, and climbed down from her hammock to give him a pat on the head. "I know it's depressing being so freakish, but try and look on the bright side. At least you're better off than me." She turned to the children and gave them a shy smile. "My name is Colette," she said, "and if you're going to laugh at me, I'd prefer you do it now and get it over with."

The Baudelaires looked at Colette and then at one another. "Renuf!" Sunny said, which meant something like, "I don't see anything freakish about you either, but even if I did I wouldn't laugh at you because it wouldn't be polite."

"I bet that's some sort of wolf laugh," Colette said, "but I don't blame Chabo for laughing at a contortionist."

"Contortionist?" Violet asked.

"Yes," Colette sighed. "I can bend my body into all sorts of unusual positions. Look."

The Baudelaires watched as Colette sighed again and launched into a contortionist routine. First she bent down so her head was between her legs, and curled up into a tiny ball on the floor. Then she pushed one hand against the ground and lifted her entire body up on just a few fingers, braiding her legs together into a spiral. Finally she flipped up in the air, balanced for a moment on her head, and twisted her arms and legs together like a mass of twine before looking up at the Baudelaires with a sad frown.

"You see?" Colette said. "I'm a complete freak."

"Wow!" Sunny shrieked.

"I thought that was amazing," Violet said, "and so did Chabo."

"That's very polite of you to say so," Colette said, "but I'm ashamed that I'm a contortionist."

"But if you're ashamed of it," Klaus said, "why don't you just move your body normally, instead of doing contortions?"

"Because I'm in the House of Freaks, Elliot," Colette said. "Nobody would pay to see me move my body normally."

"It's an interesting dilemma," Hugo said, using a fancy word for "problem" that the Baudelaires had learned from a law book in Justice Strauss's library. "All three of us would rather be normal people than freaks, but tomorrow morning, people will be waiting in the tent for Colette to twist her body into strange positions, for Beverly and Elliot to eat corn, for Chabo to growl and attack the crowd, for Kevin to write his name with both hands, and for me to try on one of those coats. Madame Lulu says we must always give people what they want, and they want freaks performing on a stage. Come now, it's very late at night. Kevin, give me a helping hand putting up hammocks for the newcomers, and then let's all try to get some sleep."

"I might as well give you two helping hands," Kevin said glumly. "They're both equally efficient. Oh, I wish that I was either right-handed or left-handed."

"Try to cheer up," Colette said gently. "Maybe a miracle will happen tomorrow, and we'll all get the things we wish for most."

No one in the caravan said anything more, but as Hugo and Kevin prepared two hammocks for the three Baudelaires, the children thought about what Colette had said. Miracles are like meatballs, because nobody can exactly agree what they are made of, where they come from, or how often they should appear. Some people

say that a sunrise is a miracle, because it is somewhat mysterious and often very beautiful, but other people say it is simply a fact of life, because it happens every day and far too early in the morning. Some people say that a telephone is a miracle, because it sometimes seems wondrous that you can talk with somebody who is thousands of miles away, and other people say it is simply a manufactured device fashioned out of metal parts, electronic circuitry, and wires that are very easily cut. And some people say that sneaking out of a hotel is a miracle, particularly if the lobby is swarming with policemen, and other people say it is simply a fact of life, because it happens every day and far too early in the morning. So you might think that there are so many miracles in the world that you can scarcely count them, or that there are so few that they're scarcely worth mentioning, depending on whether you spend your mornings gazing at a beautiful sunset or lowering yourself into a back alley with a rope fashioned out of matching towels.

But there was one miracle the Baudelaires were thinking about as they lay in their hammocks and tried to sleep, and this was the sort of miracle that felt bigger than any meatball the world has ever seen. The hammocks creaked in the caravan as Violet and Klaus tried to get comfortable in one set of clothing and Sunny tried to arrange Olaf's beard so that it wouldn't be too scratchy, and all three youngsters thought about a miracle so wondrous and beautiful that it made their hearts ache to think of it. The miracle, of course, was that one of their parents was alive after all, that either their father or their mother had somehow survived the fire that had destroyed their home and begun the children's unfortunate journey. To have one more Baudelaire alive was such an enormous and unlikely miracle that the children were almost afraid to wish for it, but they wished for it anyway. The youngsters thought of what Colette had said–that maybe a miracle would happen, and that they would all get the thing they wished for most–and waited for morning to come, when Madame Lulu's crystal ball might bring the miracle the Baudelaires were wishing for.

At last the sun rose, as it does every day, and very early in the morning. The three children had slept very little and wished very much, and now they watched the caravan slowly fill with light, and listened to Hugo, Colette, and Kevin shift in their hammocks, and wondered if Count Olaf had entered the fortune-teller's tent yet, and if he had learned anything there. And just when they could stand it no more, they heard the sound of hurrying footsteps and a loud, metallic knock on the door.

"Wake up! Wake up!" came the voice of the hook-handed man, but before I write down what he said I must tell you that there is one more similarity between a miracle and a meatball, and it is that they both might appear to be one thing but turn out to be another. It happened to me once at a cafeteria, when it turned out there was a small camera hidden in the lunch I received. And it happened to Violet, Klaus and Sunny now, although it was quite some time before they learned that what the hook-handed man said turned out to be something different from what they thought when they heard him outside the door of the freaks' caravan.

"Wake up!" the hook-handed man said again, and pounded on the door. "Wake up and hurry up! I'm in a very bad mood and have no time for your nonsense. It's a very busy day at the carnival. Madame Lulu and Count Olaf are running errands, I'm in charge of the House of Freaks, the crystal ball revealed that one of those blasted Baudelaire parents is still alive, and the gift caravan is almost out of figurines."