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Authors: Robert Kimmel Smith

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BOOK: The War with Grandpa
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Let me tell the truth about it. I was also a little ashamed.

We were all upstairs in my room. My new horrible and totally gross room, not my old wonderful and beautiful room.

“So this is where they put you,” Steve said, looking around. “It's not an improvement.”

“It stinks,” Billy said.

“I'm getting used to it,” I said.

“Any action?” Billy asked.

I shook my head.

“The war is over,” Steve said, “just as I predicted,”

“You're a loser,” Billy said. He was sitting on the floor on the little braided rug in front of my bed. “I liked your old room better. It was roomier. And it had more light. And it didn't have a smell.”

“Smell?” I said. “What smell?”

“Don't you smell it?” Billy asked. He wrinkled his nose like a rabbit and sniffed.

“It smells okay,” I said. “Steve, you don't smell anything, do you?”

Steve took a breath through his nose.“Yes,” he said.

We waited for a moment, looking at Steve, but he didn't say anything more.“Yes, you do, or yes, you don't?” Billy asked.

“I smell something, of course,” Steve said. “My olfactory sense is working.”

“Your old factory
what?”
Billy asked. “I don't smell an old factory. More like some kind of cheese.”

“Olfactory,” Steve said. “O-l-f-a-c-t-o-r-y. Your nose and smelling glands, your sense of smell.”

“Oh,” Billy said. “You mean you're showing off your vocabulary again.”

“Precisely,” Steve said, grinning. “Or indubitably…or …”

“Let's play Monopoly,” I said before it went any further. Sometimes Steve could be a pain in the neck. And sometimes he really teased Billy too much.

I went to my toy cabinet and took out the Monopoly game. Steve sat down on the floor next to Billy.“I'll be banker,” I said.

“Of course,” Billy said.

“Pete is always banker,” Steve said, “and he always wins.”

“What does that mean?” I said.

Steve shrugged.“Nothing,” he said in a way that sounded like it meant a lot more than nothing. ^

“Can we just play, for Pete's sake!” Billy said.

I sat down on the floor with the guys and set the game down in front of me. Then I took off the cover. Then I saw something so unbelievable, I couldn't believe it.

The Monopoly board was in the box, all right, but nothing else was.

There was no money, no playing pieces, no properties, no rules. All there was was a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it. It was a note, printed with a ball-point pen. This is what it said:

TWO CAN PLAY AT THIS GAME.
BUT YOU CAN'T PLAY THIS GAME
NOW.

Down below it was signed:
THE OLD MAN.

AND DIRTY WORDS

I will not put down here the actual words that Billy and Steve said. I know I set out to tell this story like it happened, but I don't want to put those words down on paper. Especially in a story for my teacher to read.

So I will make up some words to use instead of the real ones.

“I can't believe this,” Billy said. “What a
gribetz mcplank
think to do!”

“Exactly,” Steve said, “it's
rorvishl”

“Only a
macnishtop
would pull a
furrzy
trick like this!” Billy said.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “And don't say that about my grandpa.”

“I'll say what I like,” Billy said. He was really mad. “He's a
macnishtop.
How can you deny it?”

“He is not a
macnishtop!”
I said in a loud voice. “My grandpa is a great guy.”

“And he pulls
furrzy
tricks,” Steve said.

Steve had me there. It was pretty
furrzy
all right.“Maybe,” I said. “But I sure have given him a couple of reasons for it. I started this war, don't forget.”

Well, the guys went on and on for a while, saying some more
rorvish
things about Grandpa. And I defended him. It took some time for all of us to simmer down. Then Steve got that funny look on his face and shut up while Billy ran down at the mouth.

“It may be terrific,” Steve said then.

“What's so terrific about it?” Billy asked.

“He has risen to the bait, don't you see?” said Steve. “I mean, he's in the game now, he wants to play. And that's good.”

“We can't play Monopoly now and you say it's good,” said Billy.

“You've got your grandpa involved now,” Steve said, ignoring Billy. “He's feeling the pressure. Now you've got to keep it up.”

“How?” I said.

“Attack, attack, attack,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” Billy said, “hit him again.”

“I'm not so sure,” I said. I really wasn't sure either.

“Burn his underwear!” Billy said.

“What?” I didn't think I heard Billy right.

“Sneak in, grab all his underwear, and burn it. A man can't go anywhere without his underwear.”

“And how do you burn underwear?” I asked sarcastically.

“Throw it in the furnace,” Billy said.

“Don't be stupid,” I said. I wouldn't go anywhere near our furnace for anything, much less throw underwear into it.

“Rip it up then,” Billy said. “J
ust
throw it in the trash. But do it.”

“Not on your life,” I said.

“You're not a Secret Warrior,” Billy said. “You're a chicken.”

“I'm a grandson,” I said. “There are some things I'm not going to do, no matter how much my friends egg me on.”

“Chicken!” Billy said.

“It's not your war,” I said.

“Gribetz Mcplank!”
Billy called me, which he knows I don't like. I didn't say anything back.

“You've got to do something,” Steve said.

“I will,” I said.

“What?” Steve asked.

“I don't know.”

“When?”

“Sometime, someplace,” I said.

Steve and Billy both laughed at me then. And in a little bit they left, both of them mad at me and me annoyed with them.

So Grandpa's first attack really worked after all. It took three good friends and made them
rorvish
with each other.

ROCKER AND ROLL

You can bet your life I went looking for Grandpa right after the boys left. But he was too clever for me. He hung around in the kitchen where Mom was preparing dinner. Then he played a few hands of casino with Jenny. By that time Dad was home from the office.

I didn't get to speak to him alone and in private until after school the next day. And he was up in my room when I got home. He had his big toolbox up there and he was sitting on my bed, carving a little piece of wood with his knife.“Hello, Pete,” he said in a friendly way, “how was school today?”

I put my knapsack down.“A lot you care,” I said.

“I care, I care,” Grandpa said.

“How did you know we were going to play Monopoly?” I asked him.

“Ah-ah.” He grinned. “A military secret.”

“I suppose you think it was funny. ”

Grandpa chuckled. “Wasn't it? Here you guys get together to play a game and
surprise!”
Grandpa took the little piece of wood and knelt down next to my rocking chair. Then he tried to fit it into the hole in the back of the chair where the arm kept coming loose. “Just a touch too big,” he said.

“You're fixing my rocker,” I said.

“Trying to,” Grandpa said. He had a piece of sandpaper and was rubbing that little piece of wood like crazy.

“Are you going to glue it again?” I asked.

“Nope,” said Grandpa.“Glue won't do it. I'm repegging it, Pete. You see this hole in the back of the arm? I took the old peg out. It used to fit in this other hole here in the back of the rocker.” ” Grandpa tried to put the little piece of wood into place, but it wouldn't fit.“Just a little more sanding now,” he said.

“What about all the stuff from my Monopoly game? Can I have it back now?”

“Not until,” he said.

“Until what?”

“Until our little disagreement, or whatever you want to call it, is over.”

I looked at Grandpa, but he was busy sanding.“I don't think that's fair,” I said.

“It's not,” he said. “Let's just say your Monopoly pieces are prisoners of war. As soon as we make peace, back they come.”

“I'll never do that. Not until you give up my room.”

“Then they'll stay prisoners a long time,” Grandpa said.

He took a pair of pliers and gripped them around the middle of the wooden peg. Then he stuck it into the arm hole and kind of twisted it while pushing all the time. It took a lot of effort, but Grandpa had big hands and big muscles and it finally went into the hole about halfway.“Got it,” Grandpa said, “solid as the Rock of Gibraltar.”

“I gave you back your slippers,” I said.

“It seems to me that I had to come up here and find those slippers myself,” he said. “I didn't see you hand them over, Pete.”

I thought about that while Grandpa put the pliers away and got out a hammer from the toolbox. The hammer had a rubber tip on the hitting part.

“I'm going to have to get you back for this,” I said. “The Secret Warrior will strike again.”

“I know that,” Grandpa said, grinning. “That's the fun of it.”

I couldn't believe he'd said that. “You think it's fun?”

“Sure is,” he answered.“Oh, it took me a-while to see it. And then I realized something. I had darn near lost my whole sense of humor. Hadn't had a good time for ages and ages. Not the last year anyway. Imagine me slapping you like that. What a fool thing to do.” ” He lined up the hole in the back of the rocker with the peg that was stuck in the arm. “Now, watch this, Pete old boy.”

Tap-tap-tap!
That's all it took, three good taps with Grandpa's hammer and the arm of the rocker was attached to the back. I sat right down in the rocker and tried it out. It was solid, just like Grandpa said.

“You're a good fixer,” I said.“Thanks.” I kissed his forehead.

“I'm the best,” Grandpa said. “You know, Pete, I used to build whole
houses
from the bottom up. Still would, if it wasn't for this bum leg. But I'm starting to feel good again. Got my old pizzazz back, I think. There's lots of things in this house that need fixing. And I'm the man for the job, kiddo.”

He gave me a hug then, and it felt good. But when he let me go I looked at him and said,
“I'm going to get you for that Monopoly trick, you know.”

“Sure you will,” he said, then he laughed. “I can hardly wait.”

BOOK: The War with Grandpa
7.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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