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- Herausgeber: Pushkin Children's Books
- Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
- Sprache: Englisch
The award-winning children's classic - now a major film Peter was so excited that Grandpa was coming to live with his family - but he hadn't expected Grandpa to take his room... Peter loves his Grandpa, but now he feels he has only one choice: to declare war! With the help of his friends, Peter devises outrageous plans to make Grandpa surrender the room. But Grandpa is tougher than he looks. Rather than give in, Grandpa plans to get even. They used to be such great pals. Has their war gone too far?
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Seitenzahl: 114
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020
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Contents
1
Peter Stokes’s True and Real Story
this is the true and real story of what happened when Grandpa came to live with us and took my room and how I went to war with him and him with me and what happened after that.
I am typing it out on paper without lines on my dad’s typewriter because Mrs. Klein, she’s my 5th grade English teacher, said that we should write a story about something important that happened to us and to tell it “true and real” and put in words that people said if we can remember and to put quote marks around them and everything.
She also said to keep the sentences short. Looking back on how I began, I can see I’m doing terrible already. The first two sentences took up almost ½ the page.
My little sister, Jennifer, just came in and asked me what I’m doing and I told her. She told me to put Pac-Man in my story and maybe Wonder Woman she watches reruns of every afternoon on Channel 6. “No,” I said.10
“Why not?”
“Because it is a story about Grandpa and me, silly. Not some made-up thing like on TV.”
“Could it have a horse in it?” she asked.
Jennifer loves horses a lot. She cuts pictures of them out of magazines and tacks them up on the wall in her room. “No horses.”
“A magic fairy?”
“No!”
“I bet it’s going to be a stupid story,” she said.
Jennifer was wearing a Pac-Man cap, her Superman T-shirt, a jeans belt that said jeans on it, and sneakers that said left and right on the toes. She looked like a walking billboard.
“It is going to be a great story,” I said.
“How does it begin?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I was trying to remember when you came marching in.”
“I think it should begin with me,” Jenny said, “because I found out Grandpa was coming to live here before you even knew about it.”
“Good idea,” I said.
“And put in the story that I am very beautiful with long blond hair and lovely blue eyes.”
“I just did.”
“Now you’ll have a good story,” she said.
2
The Beginning
i like to read stories that have lots of chapters that are short. Because it makes the book go faster and you always can find your place. So you can bet my story is going to have a bunch of teeny-tiny chapters.
It really began when Jennifer came into my room with that look on her face that usually means she knows something that I don’t. That’s one thing Jennifer likes best in life—a secret. Not that she is so good at keeping secrets. She is no good at all in that department. In fact, I can usually get her to tell me anything I want because I’m her big brother and she’s only a little kid.
“I know something you don’t,” Jennifer said. She headed across my room to the broken rocking chair.
“Don’t sit on my rocker,” I replied.
She looked at me and made one of her faces where her eyes roll back in her head and she pouts. “Why not?”
“Because you will make the arm pop out of the back like you always do because you rock too hard.”
“I will not,” she said, which was a lie. She always breaks my rocker.12
The rocker used to be in the living room until it broke. My mom was going to throw it in the trash, but I rescued it and brought it up to my room. One of these days my dad says he will glue the arm really solid so it won’t pop out all the time.
Jennifer was standing right near my rocker. “Don’t even touch it!” I said before she could.
“Don’t you want to know what I know?” Jennifer asked me.
“I already know everything you know and a whole lot more,” I said. I picked up the book on my bed like I didn’t want to talk anymore and pretended to begin reading.
“It’s about Grandpa.”
I kept on reading.
“Grandpa Jack.”
I ignored her.
“From Florida.”
That made me laugh. We have only one Grandpa Jack and he lives in Fort Lauderdale in Florida. “I remember him,” I said.
“It’s not funny, Peter Stokes,” Jennifer said. “Grandpa Jack is too lonely down in Florida since Grandma died, so he sold their house and he’s coming to live with us. Right here, in this very house. I heard Mom talking to Dad about it on the telephone. We’re supposed to cheer him up, you and me, because his leg is hurting him a lot and all. And he’s very sad about Grandma.”13
“Grandpa’s coming to live here?” I said.
“Yop.” She nodded.
“I’m glad,” I said, and I was. I like Grandpa a lot, but I don’t get to see him much because he lives so far away. “For once you found out a good secret, Jenny,” I said.
“That’s not the secret,” she said, putting her hand on her hip and posing like a statue or something. “Where do you think his room will be?”
“I don’t know. Upstairs on the third floor, probably, in the guest room.”
She smiled and put her tongue between her teeth so it showed. “Oh, no,” she said, “that’s where you are going.”
“Me!”
“Yop.” She smiled at me because I was groaning out loud.
“You mean Grandpa is getting my room?”
“I can’t tell you,” Jennifer said. “That’s the secret.”
3
A Room Without Gloom
let me tell you about my room. i love it!!!
I was born here. Well, I was born in a hospital, really, but I have lived in this room all my life. Ten years so far. My crib used to be in the corner near the window that looks out on the driveway. Now my bed is on the long wall. I have these bookshelves right behind my head-board and my high-intensity lamp is there too. My desk is in the corner where my crib used to be and I can look out the window while I do my homework. I have these yellow toy cabinets with all my stuff in them. On top of the cabinets are shoeboxes where I have all my baseball cards. There’s a thick carpet on the floor that used to tickle my feet when I was little. And I have a poster up on the wall over my dresser of Hank Aaron hitting his 715th home run.
This room is MINE. Nobody else in my family ever lived here. Nobody. I know how my room is in the morning, when the sun peeps over the roof of the Murphy house behind ours and comes through my Venetian blinds. I know the sound when it rains 15hard and pings against the windows and the drainpipe outside. I can get up out of my bed in the middle of the night and walk around my room without even looking because I know where every single thing is.
Nothing about my room is scary. When floorboards creak at night I know it’s floorboards and not some monster. When the wind rubs the maple tree against the side of the porch outside I’m not afraid some crook is sneaking into our house.
When you live in a room your whole life, that room is yours. It doesn’t belong to Jennifer, or my mom or my dad. And it certainly doesn’t belong to Grandpa Jack, who never even lived one day in this house.
This room is mine. I love it. I belong in it. And I don’t ever want to live anywhere else.
4
The Deadly Dinner
this chapter is about what happened at dinner that night. I’m not too proud about how I acted, but I’m going to write it anyway. Because it is true and real.
I didn’t go dashing off to my mother when Jennifer dropped the news on me about Grandpa coming. I have a feeling about bad news. I always let it come to me instead of running around like an idiot looking for it.
But I can tell you I was feeling pretty awful that whole afternoon. And I didn’t have much appetite for dinner.
My dad came home at his usual time that night, about six o’clock. My dad’s name is Arthur and he’s an accountant. An accountant works with money, in case you didn’t know, figuring out how much money people and companies have and what they should do with money besides spending it. In the spring when people have to pay their income taxes my dad is very busy and sometimes comes home very late and even works on weekends. Tax Time, he calls it, and it goes on for months. During Tax Time he disappears downstairs 17into his office in the basement and doesn’t come out until it’s over.
Now, after telling you all that, I have to be truthful and say I don’t know what Dad does exactly. Except he uses a calculator and some big books called ledgers a lot.
Anyway, we were on dessert and milk when the subject of Grandpa came up and it was Mom who spoke about it.
“Children,” she said, “I have some wonderful news.”
Wonderful? I was thinking. If this was wonderful then maybe Thursday was Sunday.
“You know that Grandpa Jack has been very sad down in Florida since Grandma died. Well, I was speaking to him the other day and guess what? He’s sold the house down there and he’s coming to live with us. Isn’t that exciting?”
Mom was looking at me with such a happy expression on her face that I had to smile. Just a little. “Terrific,” I said, which was maybe one of the biggest lies of my life.
“You’ll finally get to know your grandpa,” Dad said. “He’s a great guy, Peter, and he loves you and Jenny a lot.”
“I love him up to the sky and down to the ocean,” Jenny said. “He always sends me candy on my birthday.”
That’s my silly sister. If Frankenstein gave her chocolate, she’d be his best friend.
“When is Grandpa coming?” I asked.18
“In about a week,” Mom said. “He’s just finishing some last-minute things and then he’ll fly up here to stay.”
“We’ve got to make Grandpa feel welcome, kids,” Dad said. “Our home is his home now. I expect you to treat him just like a member of the family. With respect and courtesy. And maybe with a little extra understanding because he misses Grandma so.”
“It may be strange in the beginning,” Mom said, “having Grandpa here all the time, but I know you’ll do everything you can to make him happy.”
“Can I show him my ballet routines?” Jenny asked.
“Perhaps,” Dad said, smiling. “He’ll probably enjoy them.”
“Will he play the piano for me while I dance?”
“Not unless he’s suddenly learned how to play the piano,” Mom said.
“Will he play casino with me?” Jenny asked.
“Jenny,” Dad said, “let’s not jump all over Grandpa Jack the minute he walks in here. Let him settle in and get comfortable.” Dad looked over at me. “Peter? Why so silent?”
“Just thinking,” I said.
“Are you worried about Grandpa coming here?” Mom asked.
“A little,” I said. I saw a funny look pass from Mom to Dad. “Where is he going to stay?” I asked. “In the guest room?”19
“Well,” Dad said with a kind of sigh, “no, Peter.”
“Where then?” I asked. “Exactly.”
“Let’s talk about it,” Dad began. “You see, Peter, Grandpa’s leg is really bad. He can’t walk stairs very well. So putting him on the top floor of the house, up two whole flights of stairs, that’s not a good idea.”
“And the bathroom on the top floor is only half a bath, Peter,” Mom said. “If we put Grandpa up there, he’d have to go down a flight of stairs to shower, then up again.”
“Couldn’t you put a shower in the top-floor bathroom?” I asked.
“Not really,” Dad said.
“Why not?” I said. “There’s only those old dinky rooms up there where we store things away. You could make the bathroom bigger.”
“Look, Peter,” Dad said, “we’ve been thinking awfully hard about where Grandpa can stay, and there seems to be only one answer.”
“No!”
