After ingesting peppermints to induce allergic reactions, Mr. Poe allows the Baudelaires return to Aunt Josephine’s house just as Hurricane Herman’s effects can be felt with. Wind has picked up some speed while it’s starting to rain. As Violet and Sunny take a baking soda bath to sooth the itch from their hives, Klaus goes into the library to see if he could make anything out of Aunt Josephine’s note. With the help of some grammar books, he discovered that Aunt Josephine had purposefully written the mistakes in the note to hide a message reading, “Curdled Cave.” But as soon as his sisters rejoin him and he reveals that their guardian isn’t dead and hiding there, Hurricane Herman reaches peak force. Since she had told the children earlier that she hid anything to do with Lake Lachrymose under her bed, they venture there where they find an atlas. But once lightning strikes a stilt supporting Aunt Josephine’s house, they must escape as the house collapses and falls into the lake.
The song I use for this one is Cream’s “White Room.” Written by poet Pete Brown for bassist Jack Bruce’s already composed score, the original version is about hopelessness and depression and the “white room” is an empty apartment. According to Brown, it was in this apartment that he realized his talent as a song writer, came to terms with stuff going on in his life, and turned his life around. In this version, I have Klaus discovering the errors in the note while Aunt Josephine’s house falls apart around them.
Sung by Violet and Klaus Baudelaire
The wide window with glass shattered near the statue.
High winds rising, strong waves crashing, heavy rainfall.
Sitting near the grammar library with her death note.
Somehow errors read like some kind coded message.
I’ll wait in this place as I correct these mistakes;
Wait in this place while the girls take baths for their hives.
Aunt Jo’s not dead, merely hiding in a cavern.
She made errors, to give us a hidden message.
She wants us to go and find her at Curdled Cave.
Storm winds blowing, rain is soaking through the window.
Let’s make an escape while the hurricane rage;
But any map of Lake Lachrymose was stashed away.
She must’ve stashed the lake’s atlas under her bed.
Take it with us since we’ll need it for the ferry.
Bolt of lightning strikes the cliff stilts, house is shaking.
Winds at peak force, we are leaving, house collapsing.
We’ll run to the docks and find us a boat;
We’ll sail cross the cave as the house falls from the cliff.