Shouldn't You Be in School? by Lemony Snicket

Author:Lemony Snicket
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Young Adult, Childrens, Juvenile Fiction / Mysteries & Detective Stories, Juvenile Fiction / Social Issues / Adolescence, Juvenile Fiction / Family / General (See Also Headings Under Social Issues)
ISBN: 9780316123068
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2014-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

“We don’t have any ice,” I heard myself say, in a voice that was strange for me. My mask was off and my eyes were closed. I tried to breathe, but something sweet stuck in my throat. “Ice would reduce the swelling,” I was saying, “but all I have is this washcloth soaked in cold water.”

Something clammy lay down on my forehead. “I need you to wake up, Snicket,” I said, and sighed. The sigh helped the sweet smell slither deeper down into me. I didn’t like it and it reminded me of something. The Hemlock Tearoom and Stationery Shop, I thought. Those people pretending to be your parents. You fell asleep there and your entire time in Stain’d-by-the-Sea has been a dream. Go back to sleep. I told myself I was right and it was a good idea and then something startling was under my nose.

“Wake up,” I said, loudly now. Whatever was under my nose chased the sweet smell away. Now I smelled dirt and cinnamon and it made me cough. The clammy washcloth pressed down on my forehead and I frowned and opened my eyes.

I saw a big poster shouting LEARNING IS FUN! It was a fine time to bring that up.

“Are you awake?” I asked me, but it wasn’t me who was talking. It hadn’t been all along. I turned my head and ached and blinked and found myself staring into a pair of green eyes. They blinked below a pair of eyebrows curled up like question marks, and after she blinked, the girl gave me a smile that might have meant anything.

“Lemony Snicket,” she said.

“Ellington Feint,” I said. Her hair was black again—last I’d seen her it had been blond, so she could disguise herself as Cleo Knight. It was longer now, and twisted into two skinny braids that looked like sleeping snakes.

“Don’t call me Ellington Feint,” she said, and put down a handkerchief she was holding. It was knotted to hold something that she’d put under my nose to wake me up. “Here I’m using a different name. I’ve registered at the Wade Academy under the name Filene N. Gottlin.”

“That’s scarcely believable,” I said.

“I changed the letters around in ‘Ellington Feint’ so my assumed name would be an anagram of my real one. I suppose you could think of a better one?”

“Lifelong Intent,” I said. “Entitling Felon. No Flint Gentile. I’ve been thoroughly trained in anagrams. But that’s not what I meant. I mean it’s hard to believe you’ve enrolled in this school. Do you know what goes on here?”

“I’m trying to find out,” Ellington said. “I’m not here for a top-drawer education, Snicket. I’m here to find my father.”

“What makes you think he’s here?”

Ellington frowned, and walked away from where I lay. I sat up and, taking the wet washcloth off my aching head, took my first good look around. I was in a small, plain room, containing little more than a desk, a chair, a set of drawers, and the poster on the wall.

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