Free The War with Grandpa by Robert Kimmel Smith

at him, and give him my
“heh-heh-heh.”
    I don't know if it had any effect or not. But it made me feel good.
    I waited through all of that week he'd made me almost late for school. I didn't want it to be a school day when I got my revenge. I wanted to be home so I could see everything that was going to happen.
    On Friday night, as I'd done once before, I set my alarm for the middle of the night. Sneaking down the dark, spooky stairs was a lot easier this time. The house was quiet, but I was even quieter.
    The doorknob on the door turned in my hand. I sneaked in on tippy-toes. The thing I was stealing was in a glass of water on Grandpa's night table. I took the glass of water and backed slowly out of the room. Grandpa was sleeping calm and peacefully. Not even snoring. I closed the door and made it upstairs very easily.
    I dumped the glass of water in the sink and let what was in the glass fall softly into my hand. I didn't want to hurt them. I took a whole bunch of face tissues from the box and wrapped them up nicely. They made a small, soft package.
    I had already figured out my hiding spot. There's a large garment bag in the closet of one of the attic rooms. The kind that opens with a zipper down the side of it. Mom keeps some of Dad's old suits and a few of her dresses in it. I slid open the zipper and found a pocket in one of Dad's jackets, then put the package inside. Then I scooted back to my room, jumped into bed, and pulled the covers up.
    Safe and sound. I'd done it. Now I'd haveto settle back and get some sleep. Because there sure was going to be a lot of excitement in the morning.
    Grandpa was going to be very, very angry when he woke up. And I couldn't blame him. It's really a disgusting trick to steal somebody's false teeth.

WAR'S END
    I couldn't believe I had slept peacefully through the rest of the night. But there was the time on my clock-radio: 8:30 in the morning. I lay back in my bed and tried to listen to the house. There were stirrings from someplace downstairs. Mom was probably up by now. Saturday was her supermarket day. She usually took Dad along to help her, and Jenny and me if we wanted to go.
    She was in the kitchen now. I heard the sound of the pot cabinet under the stove slamming shut. She was probably beginning to prepare our Saturday morning breakfast of French toast or pancakes. I heard the water running in my parents’ bathroom on the second floor. That meant Dad was up and washing.
    Then I heard what I'd been listening for. Uneven footsteps sounded on the stairs as Grandpa came limping up to see me. I waited.
    There was a knock on the door.“Come on in, Grandpa,” I called out. The door opened and Grandpa was there. He had one hand covering his mouth, but his eyes looked awfully angry. He came into the room sideways, his face turned toward the window and away from me.“Ma feef air miffing,” he said.
    I stared at him. “What?”
    “Ma feef,” he said. “You ot ma feef, ont you?”
    I got up out of bed. As I did that, Grandpa turned his back on me.“Ont ook at me!” he said.
    It sounded like he was talking pig Latin or some kind of weird language.
    “I don't understand you,” I said.
    “Ma feef
shouted Grandpa. “Iff me ack ma feef, oo ittle mobber.”
    Suddenly the dawn came up in my brain. That's the way Grandpa spoke without his teeth. Amazing. And weird.“You're asking me to give your teeth back to you, right?” I said.
    Grandpa nodded his head, his hand still covering his mouth.
    “Well,” I said, “you have to do something first.”
    “Om on, Fete, ma feef. I meed ma feef.”
    I translated that in my head. “You need yourteeth, right? Everybody needs teeth. But we're fighting a war here, remember?”
    “Oh, Feter,” he said, “ont be at way. Flease!”
    “Nope,” I said, “war is war. Surrender right now or I'll never ever give back your teeth. I mean it.”
    Grandpa turned his face toward me then. And there was such a sad look in his eyes, it almost made