Episode 3

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 putted 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 mean," Diane replied, tossing back her long red hair and rolling her eyes. They watched the station wagon roll down the driveway, then returned to the living room. Casey picked up the remote control and started the movie. Diane sprawled on the couch and picked up the bag of potato chips she'd been eating. . "Who picked this movie?" Diane asked, crinkling the foil bag noisily. "I did," Casey said. "It's neat." He had pulled a couch cushion down to the living room carpet and was lying on it. Margaret was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back against the base of an armchair, still thinking about her mother and her aunt Eleanor. It's neat if you like to see a lot of people blown up and their guts flying all over," she said, making a face for Diane's benefit. "Yeah. It's neat," Casey said, not taking his eyes off the glowing TV screen. "I've got so much homework. I don't know why I'm sitting here," Diane said, reaching her hand into the potato chip bag. "Me, too," Margaret sighed. "I guess I'll do it after dinner. Do you have the math assignment? I think I left my math book at school." "Sshhh!" Casey hissed, kicking a sneakered foot in Margaret's direction

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