The War With Grandpa

Peter likes to read books with short chapters, so his story will feature tiny chapters.

Returning to the story, Jennifer goes into Peter’s room, and he warns her not to sit in his rocking chair. She rocks too hard in it, causing the arm to pop out. Peter’s mom was going to throw out the rocking chair, but Peter saved it. His dad promises to glue the arm, but that hasn’t happened.

Jennifer has news: Grandpa Jack is going to move in with them. He lives in Florida, and he’s lonely and sad: His wife (Peter and Jennifer’s grandma) died, and they’re supposed to lift his spirits.

The news comes with a secret: Grandpa’s room won’t be in the third-floor guest room—that’ll be Peter’s new room. Grandpa will take over Peter’s current room.

Peter loves his room—it’s his. No one else in his family has ever occupied the space. He has lived in it for all 10 years of his life. His crib was once in the corner. His bed is there now, and there are bookshelves above his headboard. He also has toy cabinets, a carpet, a poster of Hank Aaron hitting his 715th home run, and shoeboxes full of baseball cards. He knows how the sun lights up his room, and, at night, he moves around fine—he knows where everything is, and he knows its sounds. There is nothing scary about his room.

Peter’s dad, Arthur, is an accountant, so he works with money—calculating how much people have, advising people on what to do with it, and helping people pay their taxes. During “Tax Time,” Arthur is busy. He comes home late and spends a lot of time in his basement office.

Peter and his family have dinner, and during dessert, Peter’s mom drops the news: Grandpa Jack is moving in. Jenny is happy. Grandpa always gives her candy on her birthday. She can’t wait to show Grandpa her ballet moves.

Peter pretends to be happy and brings up the room situation. Arthur says Grandpa has a bad leg, and they don’t want to make him walk up two flights of stairs. Besides, the bathroom on the third floor doesn’t have a shower. Grandpa would have to walk down to shower. Peter suggests putting a shower in the third-floor bathroom. His dad shoots down that idea, so Peter must surrender his room.

Peter protests. He screams no, and he suggests Jenny gives up her room. His mom calls Jenny a “baby,” though Jenny says she’s not a baby. Either way, his mom wants Jenny closer to her room.

Peter concludes that the situation isn’t fair. His dad says Grandpa’s life isn’t fair—life in general isn’t fair. His mom stays positive; maybe Peter will like it on the third floor. Peter doesn’t think so. He leaves the table and cries in his room.

Reflecting on Chapter 4, Peter thinks about how long it took him to write it: Five days. Peter can’t fathom how people write long books. It must take them their entire lives.

Returning to the story, Peter is sad. He thinks about how parents can make their kids do things they don’t want. Aside from the room, Peter’s mom makes him take piano lessons. Peter wishes he could take baseball lessons instead. Maybe he wouldn’t strike out so much.

Peter and his dad talk in his room. Peter says the situation “stinks,” and his dad agrees, but if Peter maintains his negative attitude, things won’t get better. His dad wants Peter to give his new room a chance. As Peter doesn’t have a choice, Arthur doesn’t want to discuss the matter further.

Peter makes a promise: When he becomes a parent, he won’t make his child do anything they don’t want to do. He then makes a few exceptions: He’d make his child brush their teeth and eat their vegetables, and he wouldn’t let them run across a busy street, play with poison or matches, or skip school—Peter realizes these issues are related to his hypothetical child’s health, safety, and education.

Peter has another observation about his writing: His sentences can get rather lengthy—he’ll try and keep them short.

Back to the story: His parents move things—baseball cards, board games, books, trophies, and posters—from his second-floor room to his new third-floor room. The move lasts multiple days. As more things leave Peter’s room, the less it feels like his. The night before Grandpa arrives, they move his bed upstairs.

Arthur asks Peter if he’s okay, and Peter promises not to cry. His dad tells him growing up involves doing things that he doesn’t want to do. Peter restates his hatred for his new room. His dad understands, but he tells Peter not to tell Grandpa—it’ll make him feel bad. Peter and his dad hug, but he still feels horrible.

After kissing his mom goodnight, Peter goes to his new room on the third floor. It’s scary: The staircase is narrow and creaky, and there’s not much light. The hallway is dark, and the empty rooms look like dangerous caves. Peter knows there’s no such thing as a boogeyman, but he’s on edge. In his room, the sounds and light faze him, and he remembers what his mom sometimes says, “Be still, my heart” (47).

Peter’s fear turns into anger. He doesn’t know why he’s the only person sacrificing for Grandpa. He thinks about John Paul Jones, a famous naval captain who helped the United States defeat the British in the Revolutionary War. Paul has a book about sea battles, and under Jones’s picture are the words “I have just begun to fight!” (48).