[Warning: This chapter contains BLOOD.]
Chapter 14
Carmelita didn’t say a word to anyone concerning her encounter with Geraldine Julienne, and by the time she had finished dinner and returned to her dorm that night, Carmelita had completely forgotten all about the irritating journalist and her annoying questions.
If only Carmelita knew of all the problems and trouble that would soon befall her life and the lives of her adoptive parents…
It was the following day, and Carmelita was on her way to Mr. Remora’s class in Room One when she happened upon a crowd of students gathered around the bulletin board on the wall. As she approached, she could hear the whispers and snickers of the other students, and once she had shoved her way to the front of the crowd, she saw exactly what it was that had everyone so enthralled.
Pinned in the center was a newspaper clipping proclaiming the following:
THE DAILY PUNCTILIO
“All the News in Fits of Print”
‘STYLISH WOMAN CHEATS ON HUSBAND WITH VILLAINOUS BOYFRIEND!’
Esmé Squalor, the city’s sixth most important financial advisor and the stylish girlfriend of the villainous criminal, Count Olaf, has a secret: She’s married! Not to Count Olaf, but to handsome stockbroker, Jerome Squalor. Allegedly, the affair was going on even before Esmé married Jerome, and continued for approximately six months before she left her husband and returned to Olaf.
Now, Esmé has retired from her life of crime and returned to the city with her and Olaf’s daughter, Carmella. The two of them are living in the lap of luxury in the penthouse apartment, which is owned by Jerome Squalor, and is located at 667 Dark Avenue.
It has not yet been established if Esmé and Jerome have made amends, but we at The Daily Punctilio
will keep you all informed.Carmelita gasped in horror, and tore the article from the bulletin board, leaving behind a shred of newspaper that was clinging to the bottom of the thumbtack.
“I didn’t know you were Count Olaf’s daughter,” someone said.
“I’m not!” Carmelita shrieked, crushing the article between her palm and fingers. “This is all
lies! Don’t you cakesniffers know the difference between fact and fabrication?”
“We know it’s a fact that your mother’s an adulteress,” someone else said.
Although Carmelita wasn’t exactly sure what the word meant, she knew it couldn’t be very nice, considering that the last words any of the students at Prufrock Prep had said to her had been nothing short of insulting. With the article still clutched firmly in her hand, Carmelita hurled herself forward and landed on top of the person who had uttered the cruel word. The person she attacked was yet another one of her former friends— a girl named Lisa Logan —but Carmelita failed to notice this as she slammed her fists as hard as she could into Lisa’s nose and mouth. Blood spurted out of the other girl’s lip almost immediately, and Carmelita thought she noticed more of the red residue leaking out of the left nostril of her former friend.
Without warning, Lisa managed to lift her feet where she kicked Carmelita square in the chest, causing her to fly off Lisa and hit the ground with such force that Carmelita barely missed slamming her head against the slick floor. From around them the other students began chanting— “Fight! Fight! Fight!” —and stomping their feet. This encouraged Carmelita, and she ran forward and threw herself once more at Lisa, making to punch her again in her already bruised and bloodied face, when a pair of hands grabbed Carmelita by the shoulders and pulled her back.
Mr. Remora, his bushy mustache covered in mushy bits of banana, was standing with his hands closed firmly over Carmelita’s shoulders, while Mrs. Bass was standing across from them with Lisa, who looked as though she would attack the moment Mrs. Bass let go of her.
“I want answers,” Mr. Remora said sternly, “and I want them
now.”Carmelita didn’t hesitate for even one instant. She pointed at Lisa and said, “It’s all the fault of that cakesniffer! She was saying things about my mother.”
“Only because it’s true,” Lisa said, wiping the blood trickling down from her nose with her sleeve. “The proof is written in that article, so what’s the difference if someone says it out loud? And
you’re the cakesniffer… going all spastic just because I stated my opinion. Haven’t you ever heard of Freedom of Speech?”
“What article are you referring to?” Mr. Remora asked.
Carmelita opened her hand and did her best to smooth out the article she had retrieved from the bulletin board. Then she handed the article to Mr. Remora. He took a moment or two to look it over, then showed it to Mrs. Bass. After she read it, the two teachers looked at one another.
“Well?” Carmelita asked. “Aren’t you going to do anything?”
“Yes,” Mr. Remora replied. “I’m going to take you to Vice Principal Nero’s office, and we are going to show him this article. Mrs. Bass can take Lisa to the nurse’s office to get cleaned up, and then they can join us.”
Keeping a firm hold on their students, Mr. Remora and Mrs. Bass headed in opposite directions of the school, leaving behind a group of stunned and silent students.
Mr. Remora didn’t say a word to Carmelita on the way to the vice principal’s office, and by the time they arrived she wasn’t all that surprised to see Nero sitting at his desk, reading
The Daily Punctilio. Another thing that didn’t surprise Carmelita was the front headliner proclaiming ‘SCANDALOUS LOVE TRIANGLE’ where three photographs of Esmé, Olaf, and Jerome were depicted below. What made things even more serious was the fact that their names had been listed below each of their pictures, and Carmelita knew at once that the Squalors were probably experiencing the same feelings she was at the moment; or, if they weren’t, they soon would be.
“This is odd,” mused Nero, who had yet to notice that Mr. Remora and Carmelita were standing before him. “But it appears as though someone has taken a pair of scissors and cut a hole in page thirty-two of my newspaper.” To prove it, he held up page thirty-two and revealed the rather large hole there, at which point he took notice of the flustered teacher and disheveled student looking back at him.
“I’m sorry to bother you so early in the morning, sir,” Mr. Remora said. “But I had no choice seeing as Carmelita Spats here was involved in quite a brawl outside of my classroom.”
Nero nodded, as if this matter didn’t surprise him in the least— because, quite frankly, it
didn’t. Carmelita had been responsible for so many of the fights that had broken out at Prufrock Prep over the two years she had been a student that Nero had lost track somewhere along the way. But now, as he examined those piercing azure eyes set inside of an angst-ridden face, he realized that this was different. For the first time since they had known each other, he realized that her reason for lashing out physically this time on another student was personal.
“Tell me what happened,” Nero said.
Mr. Remora handed him the crumpled piece of paper. “From what Carmelita told me, it has something to do with this missing article.”
Nero read the article and then turned to Carmelita. “I’m sorry,” he said, and it was true. He
did feel sorry for her. She’d had such a hard life for someone so young, and now she was part of a scandal. “I don’t understand how this could have happened. I was very discreet in my answers to the authorities when they questioned me about the hotel fire.”
“So was I,” Mr. Remora admitted.
“Then how could…”
Carmelita tugged uncomfortably at her skirt, shuffling her foot as she struggled to avoid the eyes of the two adults. “I think I know,” she said in a voice just above a whisper.
Vice Principal Nero and Mr. Remora exchanged looks of surprise before turning to Carmelita.
“Go on, Carmelita,” Nero said gently. “I can assure you that whatever is said in this office
stays in this office.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Remora added. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
Doing her best to offer the adults a smile of gratitude, Carmelita met the eyes of the vice principal and began telling him all about meeting Geraldine Julienne outside of the girl’s locker room the other day, and about how she hadn’t let Carmelita go until she had answered every last one of the aggressive journalist’s questions.
By the time Carmelita had finished telling her story, her vice principal and her teacher were both sharing a look of intense concern.
At last, Nero turned to Carmelita and said, “I just don’t understand how that reporter could have gotten passed my advanced computer system.”
“Or the security cameras,” added Mr. Remora.
“Well,” Carmelita said, “when I pointed out those things, all she seemed to care about was asking me questions.”
“She isn’t going to get away with this,” Nero explained firmly. “Prufrock Preparatory School is a serious academy, not a breeding ground for gossip. As vice principal I—”
His words were cut off by the sound of the office door opening, and he, Mr. Remora, and Carmelita all turned to see Mrs. Bass standing with her arm around Lisa Logan, who had a tissue stuffed up her left nostril and was holding an icepack firmly against her lower lip. Carmelita couldn’t say that her former friend hadn’t deserved what she had given her, but Carmelita
was concerned as to what the consequences would be for having injured yet another student. Even though she had been defending Esmé, she wasn’t sure if the teachers or even Nero would take this into consideration when deciding upon the proper punishment.
“Goodness,” was all the vice principal could say as he laid his eyes on Lisa.
“The nurse said she shouldn’t spend too much time on her feet,” explained Mrs. Bass, “or else she could start bleeding again. She’s only here to give her side of the story before she goes to lie back down.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Lisa said, and Carmelita could have torn the wadded up tissue out of Lisa’s nostril and shoved it down her throat, but instead restrained herself. “All I did was call her mother— or whoever this Esmé Squalor person is —an adulteress, and Carmelita completely flipped out.” Lisa smiled cruelly, the bloody tissue and swollen lower lip giving her face an even more sadistic appearance. “Doesn’t ‘adulteress’ mean a woman who is married and has an affair with another man?”
“I’m warning you, you cakesniffer,” Carmelita growled. “You’d better shut up before I decide to punch you in your
other nostril!”
Before Lisa could take Carmelita up on her violent offer, Nero raised his hand in an attempt to bring peace and order to his office, which was very small and was now extremely crowded as well. “Thank you for your honesty, Miss Logan,” he said. “You are excused. I don’t want you bleeding all over my office. Blood stains are the
hardest thing to get out of a carpet, you know.”He said this last part without the slightest hint of ridicule, which was a rarity for him, seeing as he had always gone out of his way to mock his students.
However, Carmelita could barely contain the smile as it crept around the corner of her mouth and appeared just as Mrs. Bass and Lisa turned to go.
After they had left, Nero turned his attentions back to Carmelita, which caused her smile to vanish instantly. “What you did wasn’t exactly the best choice of action,” he told her. “But I want you to know I understand exactly why you did it.”
Carmelita had no idea how to respond to this. “Um… thank you?” she said after a moment.
“I’ll have to contact your parents,” Nero went on, and reached for the telephone on his desk, “as I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Logan are going to want to know who to contact when the time comes to pay their daughter’s medical bills.”
Carmelita felt her stomach tense up. Jerome was not going to be happy about this… especially since he was sure to have already gotten word of the cause it by now.
Nero dialed the Squalors’ number and glanced over at Mr. Remora. “Thank you, Mr. Remora,” he said. “You may return to your students, and I’ll send Carmelita to class as soon as we’re done here.”
Mr. Remora nodded, and walked out of the office.
Carmelita sat silently in the chair across from Nero, readying herself mentally for when he finally spoke into the phone. But he never did, and after nearly one agonizing minute he returned the phone to its receiver and turned to her. “There was no answer,” he said, “not even an answering machine. I’m sure they’ve already seen what was written in today’s edition of
The Daily Punctilio and are purposely avoiding contact of any kind.”
Carmelita bit her lower lip. “It’s my fault,” she said softly. Then, in a loud voice,
“It’s my fault!”Nero was somewhat taken aback by her sudden outburst, and even more so by the fact that she was crying. Until Carmelita had gone on that trip to the Mortmain Mountains with her Snow Scout troop, she had never been the kind of child who cried easily— on the contrary, she had been the kind of child who made
other children cry.
Now, the tables had turned, and here was Carmelita, damaged mentally beyond repair, after having seen things that no child should see. She had nightmares nearly every night (even though she and Esmé had left the last safe place and returned to society, Carmelita’s nightmares were still as frequent as ever), but chose not to acknowledge them. The fact that she kept her fears locked away inside wasn’t doing anything to help her recover from the traumatic events she had witnessed at the Hotel Denouement. And now, because of a scandal brought about by Geraldine Julienne, Carmelita’s troubles were only going to get worse from hereon.
Without saying a word, Nero rose from his chair, which creaked slightly at the removal of his weight, and circled the desk over to where Carmelita was sitting, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed quietly. Kneeling down in front of her, he reached out and gently pulled her hands away from her eyes, exposing her tear-stained face. She blinked, half expecting the vice principal to mock her for crying, but he didn’t. Instead, he swiped three tissues from the box on his desk and handed them to her.
“Someone is bound to tell you this eventually,” he said, “so you might as well hear it from me: You’re going to be in for some rough times, Carmelita— you
and the Squalors —and I’m not going to tell you it won’t be difficult, because it will be. But you’ve also got to remember that things like scandals don’t last forever, and soon Geraldine Julienne will find someone else’s life to ruin, and you and your family will be free of all the speculation. But until that time comes, I want you to know that I’m
here for you. If you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open.”
For a moment, all Carmelita could do was stare up at the tall man with his snail-patterned tie and four greasy braids. She had never noticed it before, but Nero was actually quite handsome in a middle-aged, cherry tomato-nosed sort of way.
She could feel herself just beginning to blush when Nero stood up and said, “You had best get yourself to class now.”
“Yes, sir,” Carmelita agreed, using the tissues he had given her to wipe at her nose and eyes, hoping he wouldn’t notice just how deeply she was blushing. “And thank you.”
A moment later she was out the door, heading in the direction of Room One as she racked her brain trying desperately to figure out the meaning of the fire that had only seconds before appeared in her heart.