Ivy and Bean Doomed to Dance (9 page)

“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 into her shoulders, but she couldn’t stop running.

Ivy slammed into a kid. “Excuse me,” she gasped.

“Watch out!” yelled a teacher as they pounded by. “No running in the aquarium!”

They couldn’t stop. The squid was back there, waiting for them. They had to get out.

They tore up a dark hallway filled with sardines and down a dark hallway filled with jellyfish.

They flashed past the sharks, past the penguins, past the alligator pit, and exploded through the heavy golden doors into the outside world.

Air instead of water. Light instead of darkness. People instead of fish.

They were safe.

For a moment, they stood there, panting and gasping. I love light, thought Bean. I love air. I love this white marble patio—

“BEAN! IVY! WHERE ON EARTH HAVE YOU BEEN?” Ms. Aruba-Tate rushed toward them with her arms open. “Did you get lost? We were looking everywhere! Oh dear, I was so worried!” She gathered them up in a giant hug. “Oh dear,” she said, “oh, honeys!”

Ivy and Bean let themselves be hugged. It felt nice, after that squid, to be hugged.

“We’re okay,” said Bean.

“We got lost,” Ivy said quickly. That was kind of true.

“Oh, sweeties!” Ms. Aruba-Tate hugged them again. “Why didn’t you go to one of the guards? Didn’t I tell you to go to a guard if you got lost?”

“There weren’t any guards,” said Bean. That was completely true.

Now the rest of Ms. Aruba-Tate’s class was clustering around.

“There you are!” said Emma. “See, Ms. Aruba-Tate, I told you they weren’t dead.”

“We got to see the eels and you didn’t,” said Eric. “They’re hecka gross.”

“I can’t believe you got lost,” said Vanessa. “Where’d you go?”

“Into a part of the aquarium that no one has ever seen before,” said Ivy.

“There was this squid with eyes this big,” said Bean, holding her hands apart.

“You’re making that up,” said Vanessa.

“We’re not!” said Ivy. “There were white worms and this mouth with teeth—”

“Girls!” interrupted Ms. Aruba-Tate. She looked very serious. “Girls, are you telling me that you were wandering around the aquarium having a good time? That you didn’t even try to find us?”

Ivy and Bean looked at each other. “Um,” said Bean.

“We were trying to find you, Ms. Aruba-Tate,” said Ivy. “We just happened to see a few worms and things while we were trying.”

“Ivy and Bean, I am very disappointed in you,” Ms. Aruba-Tate began. “Our class has discussed safety rules many times, and I was counting on you being mature enough to understand that a field trip is an educational experience, not an excuse for bad behavior.”

All the way to the bus Ms. Aruba-Tate talked about disappointment and safety and bad behavior. Ivy and Bean nodded. They said she was right and they were wrong. They said they were sorry.

She was going to have to tell their parents, Ms. Aruba-Tate said.

Ivy and Bean nodded. They knew she had to.

They also knew that their parents were going to be mad. And that they were going to get in trouble.

But Ivy and Bean didn’t care as long as each of them could hold one of Ms. Aruba-Tate’s hands on the bus ride home. As long as they never had to go back to that aquarium and see that squid again in their whole lives.

SQUIDARINAS

They were right. Bean’s mother was mad. “This is not what I expect from you, Bernice Blue. When you go on a trip of any kind, I expect you to listen to the grown-up in charge. This is something we’ve discussed a thousand times.” Bean’s mother folded her arms and glared at Bean.