Original: Chapter One of "The End", which can be found
here (though I actually wrote my version about two months before the book came out).
And mine:
A friend of mine once asked the question:
What matters this creative endless toil
When, in a snatch, oblivion ends the coil?
[/i]
He was afraid that, at death, everything he had worked for all his life would screech to a halt, and whether his actions in life would really matter in the end. If that were the case, then it would make no difference whether he chose to be a noble volunteer or a villainous arsonist. However, despite this uncertain future, he and many others have lived their lives nobly, and those who make villainous choices still feel as if their life is unfulfilling. The Baudelaire orphans, in fact, had experienced this for themselves. Which brings me to some additional bad news.
I am not going to discourage you from reading this last tale in the chronicles of the Baudelaire orphans.
What you are about to read is the beginning of the end of the chronicled misfortunes of the Baudelaire orphans. It is filled with misfortune, just as the first twelve have been, but if you are reading this you probably already knew that. And if you have read the past misfortunes of these orphans, perhaps it is better if you continue. Because although this tale is filled with despondency, a word which here means despair, and will likely make you weep in anguish, you have likely experienced this before. And perhaps, having read this far and suffered so much already, it would actually be worse to never know what became of the Baudelaire orphans. Dear reader, you are caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, much like the Baudelaire orphans.
The phrase
caught between the devil and the deep blue sea means that there is no safe path to take, and that no matter what choice you make, misfortune will follow. And indeed, the lives of the Baudelaire orphans did seem to be that way. In the short space of time since their parents had died, they had been passed from guardian to guardian, their misfortunes mounting with each successive change, until finally, they had nowhere left to turn. Indeed, at that very moment, they were rowing away from the burning wreckage of a hotel into the unknown depths of the ocean. And accompanying them was none other than the villainous Count Olaf.
Worse still, the memories of their own villainous actions had stowed away with them. Violet Baudelaire, the eldest of the three, had used her remarkable inventing skills to help Count Olaf escape the scene of a crime. She tied her hair up in a ribbon to think of a solution to their predicament while she rowed, but was not able to invent anything.
Klaus, the second Baudelaire, had used his exceptional researching skills to help Olaf escape, just like his elder sister. While he rowed, he searched his mind for any information he might have read that could help them, but was not able to think of anything.
Sunny, the youngest Baudelaire, had become an accomplice of Count Olaf by helping to burn down the last safe place. She rubbed her teeth together as she rowed, trying to find something to bite that could help them escape, but was not able to find anything.
The three orphans glanced over at Olaf, grinning wickedly in the back of the boat, then at the endless blue that stretched ahead of them. They realized that they were, in fact, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.
“Mush!” Olaf called to them, noticing their hesitation. “Mush, mush, orphans! I didn’t tell you to stop!”
“No Iditarod!” Sunny said indignantly.
“Idita-what?” Olaf asked.
“Sunny wants you to use a term more appropriate for rowing,” Violet explained. “And we’re getting tired, Olaf. Could you come help us row?”
“That’s nonsense! N-O-N-C-E…“ he trailed off. “Pick up your oar, you four-eyed orphan!”
But Klaus did not hear Olaf. He was staring off into the distance, a vague expression on his face.
“Klaus?” Violet asked, nudging her brother.
“Klaus?” Sunny asked, biting her brother’s hand softly
He started and then turned toward his shipmates. “Look out on the horizon,” he said, pointing towards the east. “Do you see those clouds?”
Sunny strained her eyes to see the clouds, then nodded. “Shade,” she said gratefully, wiping sweat from her forehead.
Klaus shook his head. “Those aren’t just any clouds, Sunny, those are storm clouds. And that means unless we find land soon, we’ll be caught in a sea storm. In this tiny craft, even a small rainstorm will be enough to knock us about.” He thought back to the 17 books about storms he had read shortly before his eleventh birthday. “If a lightning storm catches us on open water, it could electrocute us. And if any of the larger storms – a gale, a hurricane, a squall, a typhoon, or a tempest – happen to hit us, our boat will be torn to pieces.”
“Now will you help us row, Olaf?” Violet asked.
Olaf swallowed nervously, staring out at the sea, but then shook his head. “How do we know you’re telling the truth, orphan?” he asked gruffly.
I am sorry to say that Klaus was telling the full and complete truth, and that his words would prove to be nearly prophetic in the description of what would befall them. But the four sailors were not to know that. They simply stared out to sea again, watching as lightning lit up the faraway clouds.
Far in the distance, thunder began to rumble.