9 OCEAN LIFE GONE BAD

OCEAN LIFE GONE BAD Ivy and Bean came to a gray room. It didn't have any ocean life in it. What it did have in it were a lot of dishes. "We must be near, the cafeteria" said Ivy. A man walked into the room pushing a cart. He didn't look surprised to see them, but he didn't look happy either. "No kids in here," he said. "Cafeteria's that way." He pointed to a door.

"Okay," said Bean. She and Ivy went through a different door. Now they were in a dark hallway. A dark, small hallway. They could just barely see the sign on the wall. It said, "Life without Light: Creatures of the Deep Sea." "Perfect!" said Ivy.

"Perfect? For what?" asked Bean. It didn't look perfect to her. It looked dark. "Life without Light." said Ivy. "It's great for sleeping. Plus, no one will be able to see us." Bean looked around the little hall. "We're going to sleep in here?" "No. This is just where they put the sign. The fish and stuff are in there." She pointed to a doorway. Together they walked into a long, narrow room. At least Bean thought it was a long, narrow room. She couldn't really tell because it was so dark. It was even darker than the hall. "Why don't they turn on some lights?" whispered Bean. It seemed like a whispering place. "It's showing what it's like in the deep sea. The sun doesn't get all the way down there," whispered Ivy.

"So that's all? Just a dark room?" Bean shook her head. "I don't know. I can't tell. Do you see fish tanks anywhere?" Bean looked hard into the darkness. She could see some glimmering on the wall. Maybe it was glass. Or something else. Bean started to get a worried feeling. "Why aren't there any people in here?" she asked. "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.