They could hear the buzz and hum of electronic machinery. And off to the right, they could see the glare of the bright white lights from Dr. Brewer's workroom. This is kind of fun, Margaret thought as the three of them made their way down the linoleum-covered stairway. It's an adventure. There's no harm in taking a peek. So why was her heart pounding? Why did she have this sudden tingle of fear? 3 "Yuck! It's so hot in here!" As they stepped away from the stairs, the air became unbearably hot and thick. Margaret gasped. The sudden change in temperature was suffocating. "It's so moist," Diane said. "Good for your hair and skin." "We studied the rain forest in school," Casey said. "Maybe Dad's building a rain forest." "Maybe," Margaret said uncertainly. Why did she feel so strange? Was it just because they were invading their father's domain? Doing something he had told them not to do? She held back, gazing in both directions. The basement was divided into two large, rectangular rooms. To the left, an unfinished rec room stood in darkness. She could barely make out the outlines of the Ping-Pong table in the center of the room. The workroom to the right was brightly lit, so bright they had to blink and wait for their eyes to adjust. Beams of white light poured down from large halogen lamps on tracks in the ceiling. "Wow! Look!" Casey cried, his eyes wide as he stepped excitedly toward the light. Reaching up toward the lights were shiny, tall plants, dozens of them, thick-stalked and broad-leafed, planted close together in an enormous, low trough of dark soil. "It's like a jungle!" Margaret exclaimed, following Casey into the white glare. The plants, in fact, resembled jungle plants -- leafy vines and tall, treelike plants with long, slender tendrils, fragile-looking ferns, plants with gnarled, cream-colored roots poking up like bony knees from the soil. "It's like a swamp or something," Diane said. "Did your father really grow these things in just five or six weeks?" "Yeah. I'm pretty sure," Margaret replied, staring at the enormous red tomatoes on a slender, yellow stalk. "Ooh. Feel this one," Diane said. Margaret glanced over to find her friend rubbing her hand over a large, flat leaf the shape of a teardrop. "Diane -- we shouldn't touch -- " "I know, I know," Diane said, not letting go of the leaf. "But just rub your hand on it." Margaret reluctantly obeyed. "It doesn't feel like a leaf," she said as Diane moved over to examine a large fern. "It's so smooth. Like glass." The three of them stood under the bright, white lights, examining the plants for several minutes, touching the thick stalks, running their hands over the smooth, warm leaves, surprised by the enormous size of the fruits some of the plants had produced. "It's too hot down here," Casey complained. He pulled his T-shirt off over his head and dropped it onto the floor. "What a bod!" Diane teased him. He stuck out his tongue at her. Then his pale blue eyes grew wide and he seemed to freeze in surprise. "Hey!" "Casey -- what's the matter?" Margaret asked, hurrying over to him. "This one -- " He pointed to a tall, treelike plant. "It's breathing!" Diane laughed. But Margaret heard it, too.
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