02 - Stay Out of the Basement by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead) Page B

Dad—” Casey called
excitedly. “Dad—can we see?”
    They were halfway down when their father appeared at the foot of the stairs.
He glared up at them angrily, his skin strangely green under the fluorescent
light fixture. He was holding his right hand, drops of red blood falling onto
his white lab coat.
    “Stay out of the basement!” he bellowed, in a voice they’d never heard
before.
    Both kids shrank back, surprised to hear their father scream like that. He
was usually so mild and soft-spoken.
    “Stay out of the basement,” he repeated, holding his bleeding hand.
“Don’t ever come down here—I’m warning you.”

 
 
2
     
     
    “Okay. All packed,” Mrs. Brewer said, dropping her suitcases with a thud in
the front hallway. She poked her head into the living room where the TV was
blaring. “Do you think you could stop the movie for one minute to say good-bye
to your mother?”
    Casey pushed a button on the remote control, and the screen went blank. He
and Margaret obediently walked to the hallway to give their mother hugs.
    Margaret’s friend, Diane Manning, who lived just around the corner, followed
them into the hallway. “How long are you going to be gone, Mrs. Brewer?” she
asked, her eyes on the two bulging suitcases.
    “I don’t know,” Mrs. Brewer replied fretfully. “My sister went into the
hospital in Tucson this morning. I guess I’ll have to stay until she’s able to
go home.”
    “Well, I’ll be glad to baby-sit for Casey and Margaret while you’re away,” Diane joked.
    “Give me a break,” Margaret said, rolling her eyes. “I’m older than you are,
Diane.”
    “And I’m smarter than both of you,” Casey added with typical modesty.
    “I’m not worried about you kids,” Mrs. Brewer said, glancing nervously at her
watch. “I’m worried about your father.”
    “Don’t worry,” Margaret told her seriously. “We’ll take good care of him.”
    “Just make sure that he eats something once in a while,” Mrs. Brewer said.
“He’s so obsessed with his work, he doesn’t remember to eat unless you tell
him.”
    It’s going to be really lonely around here without Mom, Margaret thought. Dad
hardly ever comes up from the basement.
    It had been two weeks since he yelled at Casey and her to stay out of the
basement. They had been tiptoeing around ever since, afraid to get him angry
again. But in the past two weeks, he had barely spoken to them, except for the
occasional “good morning” and “good night.”
    “Don’t worry about anything, Mom,” she said, forcing a smile. “Just take good
care of Aunt Eleanor.”
    “I’ll call as soon as I get to Tucson,” Mrs. Brewer said, nervously lowering
her eyes to her watch again. She took three long strides to the basement door, then shouted down, “Michael—time to take me to the airport!”
    After a long wait, Dr. Brewer called up a reply. Then Mrs. Brewer turned back
to the kids. “Think he’ll even notice I’m gone?” she asked in a loud whisper.
She meant it to be a light remark, but her eyes revealed some sadness.
    A few seconds later, they heard footsteps on the basement stairs, and their
dad appeared. He pulled off his stained lab coat, revealing tan slacks and a
bright yellow T-shirt, and tossed the lab coat onto the banister. Even though it
was two weeks later, his right hand, the hand that had been bleeding, was still
heavily bandaged.
    “Ready?” he asked his wife.
    Mrs. Brewer sighed. “I guess.” She gave Margaret and Casey a helpless look,
then moved quickly to give them each one last hug.
    “Let’s go, then,” Dr. Brewer said impatiently. He picked up the two bags and
groaned. “Wow. How long are you planning to stay? A year?” Then he headed out
the front door with them, not waiting for an answer.
    “Bye, Mrs. Brewer,” Diane said, waving. “Have a good trip.”
    “How can she have a good trip?” Casey asked sharply. “Her sister’s in the
hospital.”
    “You know what I