Chapter 18
Vice Principal Nero had not been kidding when he told Carmelita that most of the other students went home for the weekend, and so, for the most part, she didn’t have to worry about being the object of their teasing for a few days.
When she wasn’t studying for Mr. Remora’s tests or defending herself and her family from the cruel insults of the other students, Carmelita liked to spend her time in the library. After she found a book that captured her interest, she would find a comfortable spot (either in one of the chairs or in a secluded corner somewhere) where she would sit quietly and read. When she wasn’t busy reading, she would make herself useful by placing returned books back on the shelves or helping someone find a particular book. Before her escapades with Olaf and Esmé, the only times Carmelita had picked up a book was when she was planning to throw it at someone, but since then she had come to realize that books were good for more than just hurting people with. So far, Carmelita’s favorite authors were Roald Dahl, Lloyd Alexander, Lewis Carroll, and George McDonald; and her favorite genres were fantasy and science-fiction. She didn’t care much for drama or horror, due to the fact that she had experienced so much of it in real life and didn’t see how anyone could possibly be entertained by such things.
The library not only proved to be a good distraction from the problems in Carmelita’s life, but also helped to ease her loneliness due to the fact that several weeks had passed since she’d last seen Esmé and Jerome.
Mrs. Miller, the librarian, found Carmelita to be a particularly pleasant and lovely child, and had even referred to her as “quiet” on one occasion when she had asked Mr. Remora about his new student.
“You mean Carmelita Spats?” Mr. Remora had said. “Yes, she’s a student of mine, but she’s attended Prufrock Prep for nearly three years now.”
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Miller had replied. “I don’t recall ever seeing her in the library before.”
Mr. Remora shrugged. “I guess she just never bothered to come.”
One Saturday afternoon in the library, while Carmelita sat curled up in a chair with her feet tucked beneath her as she looked over some recent notes she had taken in Mr. Remora’s class, Mrs. Miller approached her. Since it was the weekend, the library was mostly empty, and so Carmelita was rather surprised when she lifted her head and saw the librarian smiling down at her.
“Hello, Carmelita,” Mrs. Miller said. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m fine,” Carmelita replied, making an effort to smile. “Thank you.”
“I was wondering,” said Mrs. Miller, “since you seem to enjoy reading about fantasy and science-fiction so much, I have a book I think you might enjoy.” From behind her back she produced a copy of Madeleine L’Engel’s
A Wrinkle in Time, and held it up for Carmelita to see. “This was my favorite book as a girl.” Smiling, Mrs. Miller placed the book in Carmelita’s outstretched hands. “I saw it the other day in a bookstore and immediately thought of you.”
“I promise I’ll take very good care of it,” Carmelita promised, “and give it back to you in perfect condition.”
“Give it back?” Mrs. Miller laughed. “Sweetheart, it’s a gift.
I’m the one’s who’s giving it to
you.”For a long moment, all Carmelita could do was stare up at the librarian in utter bemusement. This was the first time in her life that anyone (aside from Esmé and Jerome, of course) had ever given her
anything— let alone anything
new —and she was utterly speechless. In the past, whenever there had been something Carmelita wanted, she would just take it without giving a single thought to who might miss it.
“Are you sure?” She still couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Yes.” Mrs. Miller gently pressed the book against Carmelita’s chest. “Think of it as a thank you for all the work you’ve done.”
Carmelita thought she might start to cry, but she forced back her tears and smiled instead. “Okay,” she said.
Later that morning when Carmelita returned to her dorm, she discovered a great surprise waiting for her.
Or rather,
two surprises.
“Esmé!” she exclaimed. “Jerome!” Dropping her things by the door, Carmelita dove across the room and into the waiting arms of her adoptive parents.
“Oh, darling,” Esmé said, giving the little girl an extra big hug, “I’m so sorry it took us this long to make it up here to see you.”
“We’ve missed you so much,” Jerome said, putting his arms around Carmelita and drawing her into a warm, fatherly embrace.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Carmelita replied, wary of the fact that she was quickly losing the battle with her tears. “But I’m so glad you came.” Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she stood back in order to receive a better look at the two most important people in her life who she hadn’t seen in quite some time, and cocked her head at Esmé. “Esmé, you look…
different.”Esmé instinctively rested her hand on her belly, which was more than three times the size it had been the day Jerome had returned to the penthouse apartment and discovered her examining herself in the bathroom mirror, and smiled. “Yes,” she replied. She no longer felt as self-conscious about her appearance as she had in the beginning, and there was something in her face whenever she smiled that proved it. She was not anywhere near as selfish as she once had been, nor was she as quick to snip at her husband for something he said or did that she didn’t approve of. Esmé had the sneaking suspicion that if Jerome had his way, then she would stay pregnant forever. It was an amusing thought, and although it had managed to crack a smile across her face on more than one occasion, she was careful to never bring it up as it would most likely embarrass him.
Just then, Carmelita reached out and was about to put her hand to Esmé’s belly when she stopped at the last moment and said, “Can I…?”
Esmé smiled and nodded for Carmelita to go ahead. Carmelita did so, and was amazed to feel the slightest kick coming from inside. A wide grin spread across her face, and she looked up at Esmé. “Wow,” Carmelita said. “I think I just felt the baby.”
Esmé and Jerome exchanged smiles.
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“We don’t know,” replied Esmé. “We thought it would be fun to be surprised.”
“Oh.” Carmelita drew her hand away and looked from Esmé to Jerome before continuing. “Would you like me to give you a tour of the academy? Hardly anybody is here, so we can go pretty much anywhere we want.”
Jerome turned to Esmé. “How about it, Esmé?” he asked. “Do you feel up to taking a tour?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “I think that sounds like a simply
smashing idea!”
Carmelita dashed across the courtyard, pausing every couple of paces to look back over her shoulder and make sure that Esmé and Jerome were keeping up. Carmelita admired the way Jerome held Esmé’s hand while her other hand rested protectively on the bulge of her stomach. It felt nice to have the grounds to themselves for an afternoon, and for a while the three of them nearly forgot all about their troubles.
It was just as they were nearing the end of their tour of the courtyard, when Jerome happened to glance up and notice the Orphan’s Shack. Extending his arm and pointing towards the small tin shack, he asked, “Carmelita, what is that?”
Carmelita stopped in her tracks from where she had been walking only a little ways ahead of the two adults, and directed her eyes to where Jerome was pointing. “You mean
that?” asked Carmelita, lifting her arm and indicating the Orphan’s Shack. “That’s the Orphan’s Shack.”
“The Orphan’s Shack?”
Carmelita nodded. “It’s a place for children who don’t have any parents or guardians,” she explained. “If you don’t have anyone to sign your permission slip, then Vice Principal Nero makes you go live in the Orphan’s Shack. I’ve never been inside, but I hear that fungus drips from the ceiling and crabs populate the floor. Do you want to have a look inside?”
Jerome appeared absolutely appalled by the information Carmelita had just given him, and both she and Esmé were looking at him with great concern. The man seriously looked like he would cry at the drop of a hat. “No,” Jerome said unevenly. “No, I don’t believe I do.”
Carmelita was thankful now that she had left out the part about the Baudelaire orphans being forced to live inside the Orphan’s Shack during their entire time at Prufrock Prep, or of how she had made them feel less than welcome.
(“Cakesniffing orphans in the Orphan’s Shack!”) She felt even worse about it now than she did before, and she decided right then and there that if she ever met the Baudelaires again then the first thing she would do was apologize to them.
Aside from the Orphan’s Shack, the remainder of the tour was very pleasant, and by the time they arrived at the cafeteria— which was completely empty aside from three or four cafeteria workers —Jerome appeared to have recovered somewhat from his distressing encounter with the small tin shack.
They were served lasagna and garlic bread for dinner, and while they ate Esmé complimented Carmelita on a tour well given.
“Just think, Carmelita,” Esmé said in between bites of lasagna. “You might just grow up to be the world’s most famous tour guide one day.” She turned to Jerome. “Are you going to eat your bread?”
Jerome, who still looked a little pale, shook his head. “You can have it,” he replied, and dropped the garlic bread onto Esmé’s tray.
“Actually,” Carmelita said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and there is
something I’d like to be when I grow up.”
Esmé finished off her garlic bread and the rest of her lasagna, then with her fork she started to steal what was left on Jerome’s tray, which was quite a lot. “Really? Tell us, darling,” Esmé said.
Happy that she was finally getting to share something so personal with her adoptive parents, Carmelita smiled and replied, “Someday I would like very much to own and manage my own restaurant.”
Esmé and Jerome smiled at one another before turning back to Carmelita.
“Well, what do you think? Is that a good idea?”Carmelita asked.
“Carmelita,” Esmé said, reaching across the table and covering the little girl’s small hand with hers, “I think it’s
smashing.”“Yes,” Jerome agreed, and reached for Carmelita’s other hand. “You’ve grown into such a remarkable young lady, and we’re so very proud of you.”
She beamed ecstatically, thrilled that the first adult decision she had ever made was being met with such approval by her adoptive parents.
There is an old saying which simply states “all good things must come to an end”, and so it was the case with Esmé and Jerome’s visit with Carmelita soon after dinner. There were tears on both Esmé and Carmelita’s parts, and although Jerome was tempted to join them he forced himself to remain strong in order to hold everyone together.
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” he assured Carmelita as the three of them stood together in her dorm. “Maybe we can go for a drive. Would you like that?”
Carmelita nodded from where she stood hugging Esmé, her arms only long enough to get halfway around the pregnant woman’s waist. Despite the tears clinging to Carmelita’s eyes, she forced herself to smile regardless.
That evening after they had finished saying their goodbyes, Carmelita stood at the window and watched Esmé and Jerome as they got into their car. Esmé waved to Carmelita from the front seat, and Jerome tipped his hat to her right before climbing into the driver’s seat.
After they had driven off, Carmelita sat down at her desk. Pulling open one of the drawers, she took out a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote the following:
Dear Violet, Klaus, and Sunny:
I’m sorry about calling you all cakesniffers and for teasing you. It was really mean of me and I don’t know why I ever did it. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.
Sincerely,
Carmelita Spats Squalor
P.S.: If you see the Quagmires, tell them I’m sorry for teasing them, too.Carmelita crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the wastebasket. Then she climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her head.