The Quagmires

Chapter 17: The Polished Poet

I may not be the first to say this, but poetry can truly save lives. It is not very common for people to say that poetry is life-saving, because most may not be able to interpret the meaning behind it. In this sad story, however, you might be able to understand how that is possible. In the Quagmires' case, poetry wasn't only capable of saving Duncan and Isadora's lives, but it was also capable of saving their shiny sapphires.

"Our mother was noble and brave, but look at you. You're such a coward that you let your Hench people do dangerous tasks. You just sit there and give orders," Duncan defended. He was shaking from fear, but he couldn't let anyone say anything unpleasant about his beloved mother.

"A coward? Oh I'll show you who the coward is," Count Olaf leaned closer to Duncan's face, so close that their noses were almost touching, and he slapped him across the face.

"Ouch," Duncan whimpered and he began to cry. He wasn't crying because he was physically in pain, he was crying because he couldn't handle all this mental pressure. He couldn't handle having to be locked in a dark, enclosed space again, he couldn't handle being kidnapped by a notorious villain, he couldn't handle losing his friends, and he couldn't handle all the losses he has had.

"How dare you!" Isadora cried. "You miscreant! You'll never get away with this!"

"So you keep telling me. Stash them in the fountain already! We want to make sure they're hidden before all the decent villagers wake up."

The Quagmires were finally trapped inside the closed belly of the fountain before Isadora dared to ask,

"Duncan, are you okay?"

He didn't answer, he just shook his head and allowed another set of tears to flow from his hazel green eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Duncan. I couldn't protect you from Count Olaf. I'm sorry."

Duncan wiped his tears and looked up at his sister, who he could barely see in the slight darkness, and said, "It's not your fault. Count Olaf is a greedy and wicked man."

"Duncan. Duncan, it's happening again." She began to shake and sweat. Her breath rate sped up more and more until she was hyperventilating. There was more space in the fountain, giving Duncan enough space to hug his sister, but he didn't. He knew if she had a fear of closed spaces, hugging her would only make it worse. He took her sweaty hand and said,

"Isadora Quagmire. 

I may not be a poet 

But I can still write a poem."

Isadora quickly began to calm down. Her breathing gradually went back to normal and she finally stopped shaking. 

"That does not rhyme," she giggled, "But thank you."

"You're welcome. Also, I don't have your talents, Isadora, I just write down what I observe."

"Obviously."

Her brother gave her an annoyed look, but his eyes told Isadora that he was really just laughing from the inside.

"Isadora, did you hear Count Olaf say something about the Baudelaires coming here?"

"No, but they must've followed us here."

"Well if they're here, then we must find a way to let them know where we are."

"You're right. Besides, your so-called poem gave me an idea." 

Duncan let out a small laugh. "What is it?"

"I'm not so sure this will work, but remember how V.F.D. used coded language to communicate in secret?"

"Yeah. We read about that in 'The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations' book."