Chapter Ten

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Violet POV:

As we exit the trolley I am still trapped in my reverie. I hadn't thought of that poem in years and it was Duncan who helped me remember. Duncan, the epitome of perfection. He's so wonderful, so kind, so oblivious to the fact that I've been stealing so many glances at him that even an esteemed bank robber would be proud. At the bottom of 667 Dark Avenue where we left the trolley, a crowd of people are milling around. "I don't remember it ever being this popular." Sunny comments.
"Fire is very in right now." a stranger says to her.
"Fire?" I ask.
"Yep. The entire penthouse suite of 667 Dark Avenue has just been engulfed in flames. Wait until the readers of the new Daily Punctilio hear about this!" (A/N: I couldn't resist.) We all simultaneously turn our heads towards the building and see the charred, blackened structure that was our last chance at finding VFD, gone up in smoke. Literally.

Duncan POV:
We trudge despondently down the streets. "There has to be some way of getting in. Maybe we could disguise ourselves as police officers?" Beatrice says hopefully, but we all know that it's no use.
Sunny says, after a long silence, "That was too much of a coincidence to be an accident. That fire was set deliberately to throw us off course. So at least we know one thing: we are on the right track." Klaus sighs and readjusts his glasses.
"You mean were on the right track. Thanks to that fire we're at a dead end. For all we know we're still being followed by those two, we have little to no evidence and no place to go."
"That's not entirely true," I say, "we do have one place to go..."

Isadora POV:
The house is warm and inviting and exactly as I remember it. Hector beckons us inside, beaming brightly, "I always knew you would make it, Baudelires! We were all so desperate to find you!"
"Hector, your poor young friends look hungry. Go fix them up some quesedillas- there's salsa in the fridge." calls an old woman before turning to us and smiling. "Hello hello hello! Quagmires, come in! And you must be the Baudelaires. Oh yes, the Quagmires have told us all about you. But I'm afraid that I don't know you, chicitita. Chicitita means little girl."
"Beatrice Baudelaire II, pleased to meet you. And I know what chicitita means." says Beatrice proudly, sticking out her hand. "Oh." says the old woman, clearly confused . "Well, let's go to the living room, shall we?" Beatrice and Sunny walk in, followed by Duncan, Quigley and Klaus. Hector's mother grabs my wrist and whispers conspiratorially to me, "Is that your young man? The one in the glasses?" she gives a gleeful burst of laughter at my blush. "You can't hide anything from me, Isa. You two are clearly swooning over each other. Cuàndo es la boda, eh?" I blush an even deeper red and she lets go of my wrist. "Just make sure that you invite me. I'll be in the front row, crying my eyes out." I finally walk into the room and see Violet, Duncan, Sunny, Beatrice and Quigley squeezed on the small couch. "Sorry, Izzy, this couch is full." Quigley says smugly. "Hey, there's a seat next to Klaus!" Violet finishes, grinning like a cheshire cat. By popular demand it seems I take the seat next to Klaus on the small two-seater. It's not like I mind sitting next to him, it's just that I've never been this close to him before. "You are a very good artist Mrs..?" Klaus says politely, looking up at the various paintings adorning the walls.
"Gonzales. You are a sweet boy. These paintings aren't the sort that I display in the gallery. These are more personally based."
"What's that one based on?" Beatrice asks, pointing at a painting on the wall. I remember hanging this very one up on the wall.
"Oh, that one's of a very ferial day in the village. I used to work in the saloon and business was quite slow what with it being a dry county. It was an ordinary day until about 3pm when a strange couple walked up to the bar."
"Strange? In what way?" I ask.
"Well they were both wearing long cloaks and hats and they ordered one root beer float between them, but by the time I had made it they were both gone."
"Did they leave in that taxi?" Sunny asks, looking up at the picture. In it the saloon doors are wide open as if someone had been walking through them at a great speed, and a taxi is speeding away leaving billowing clouds of dust in its wake."
"Yes they did. Didn't pay, didn't drink the float, but they did leave a note on the paper napkin. I've never forgotten it. It read,
"When life gives you Lemon s. look for the why.
PS the float is yours."
Very peculiar indeed."
As if she could read our minds Mrs. Gonzales gets up and heads for the kitchen, saying something about burned quesadillas. "This note has to mean something, but what could it be?" Duncan asks.
"Well, whoever wrote it was very particular about their phrasing as lemons was written as two words. I just don't understand the last part. What does it mean to look for the why? And, how do we do it?" Klaus asks, puzzled.
An idea dawns upon me. "What if the why isn't a question? What if it's a letter?"
Violet understands first. "When life gives you Lemon s, look for the why. Lemon why- Lemony!"
"And the S must stand for Snicket!" I say excitedly.
"Uncle Lemony always says that sharing a root beer float is something only to do with a person you love, like a sibling." says Beatrice.
"Or a fiancé." Violet says. "The two figures could have been Lemony and Beatrice, and they were clearly in a hurry."
"So why bother buying the float or leaving the note at all?" Duncan asks. "It was a lot of effort to go to if they were just going to up and leave."
"As a message." I say. "They left it to serve as a sort of sign, a, "We were here, but we had to go. Come look for us."
"So what do we do?" Beatrice asks.
"We find them."

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