Ivy and Bean_ Books 4,5,6 - Annie Barrows [33]
“I don’t know,” Ivy said again. Bean could see the outline of Ivy’s head as she looked from side to side. “Maybe the sign was old. Maybe there’s nothing in here.”
For a moment, they stood there in the dark. It was so quiet that they heard the sound of the quiet. Bean began to think of all the things that might be slithering silently toward them.
“Ivy? I’m not liking this so much,” she said.
Ivy linked her arm into Bean’s. That was better. A little. “There’s got to be a light switch in here somewhere,” said Ivy. “If we walk around, I bet we’ll find one. And once we turn on the light, we’ll figure out where to hide our backpacks.”
Slowly, with their arms out, they walked toward the wall. Bean’s hands brushed against cool glass. No light switches there. She felt around its edges.
“Hey,” said Ivy. “Here’s a button thing. Should I push it?”
“Um,” said Bean. “What if it opens a trapdoor and water gushes out?”
Too late. Ivy had pushed the button. The wall in front of them began to glow with red light. For a second, they blinked at the brightness. And then they saw. Behind the glass was black water rising high above their heads. They pressed their faces to the window. Was it just empty water?
“I don’t see any fish,” Bean began to say—and then a massive mouth came hurtling toward them, shining with thousands of needle teeth. “YIKES!” Bean took an enormous leap backward, dragging Ivy behind her.
“Holy moly cannoli!” she squeaked. “What the heck is that?”
Ivy didn’t say anything, but her hand held tight to Bean’s. The giant mouth was attached to a long snaky creature that glared at them with tiny bright eyes.
“I guess this is what it’s like at the bottom of the sea,” whispered Ivy.
Bean shivered.
On the other side of the glass wall, a fish swam by, a thin arm sprouting from its head. At the end of the arm was a glowing lump. The fish swished its head from side to side, and the glowing lump swung like a lantern.
Slowly the two girls made their way around the room. Long white worms poked from tubes. See-through fish wiggled along, trailing other fish with glowing eyeballs. Shining blobs with no heads or tails rolled on the floor of the tank. Were they alive?
“Could we turn the lights off again?” Ivy asked in a small voice. “I can’t stop looking at those blobs.”
Bean reached over to the button under the glass and pressed it. The red light faded into darkness. Thick nighttime darkness. With worms and giant mouths in it.
“Ivy?” said Bean. “I don’t think I can live in here for two weeks.”
“Sure you can,” said Ivy, but her voice didn’t sound sure. “They’re inside tanks. Tank glass is super-strong.”
There was a pause.
“I keep thinking they’re watching us,” said Bean.
“I keep thinking the glass is going to break,” said Ivy.
Bean pictured the giant mouth whizzing toward her. She jumped up and pressed the button again.
But it was a different button. The red light did not begin to glow. Instead, a serious voice began to talk.
“The most famous creature of the deep sea can’t be seen in an aquarium because it has never been captured alive. The giant squid, which may reach a length of forty feet, is shown here in a rare video….”
The voice went on talking, but Bean and Ivy didn’t hear it.
They were watching the video. An enormous white blob flapped in empty black water, its long, blubbery white arms trailing behind. Around and around it spun and ruffled and circled, dancing in the water. It was like a horrible Wili, Bean thought. Its legs flailed and waved. Then, with a giant flap and whirl, the squid shot toward them. Its head, huge and soft, turned, and suddenly a single monster eye, an eye the size of a plate, stared right into theirs. It could see them.
For a second, Ivy and Bean stood frozen.
And then they began to run.
IN HOT WATER
Bean couldn’t stop running. She was gasping for air and her backpack was slamming