The Old House by Willo Davis Roberts Read Free Book Online

everybody has known her as Addie Ostrom. Even when Ed was still alive, I think they called her Ostrom. Sometimes they call Cassie Ostrom , too, even though she’s legally Mrs. Gus Miller.”
    Buddy was still intrigued by the idea that Addie wrote stories. “Are her stories any good?”
    â€œI don’t know. She never lets anybody read them. Probably not, or somebody would buy one, wouldn’t they?”
    â€œIt seems sad, that she keeps getting rejections.”
    â€œWell, if she cries about it, she does it in private,” Max stated.
    The idea of Addie crying struck Buddy as being very strange indeed. Especially when she remembered how her aunt had spoken to the school principal. Addie was tough.
    From behind them, through the open window into Grandpa’s room, came the artificial-sounding voice of his speaking watch. “The time is 4:20 p.m.”
    Max rolled his eyes. “Now you understand why they made him move downstairs. It wasn’tbecause he fell down the stairs, even if he did. It was because Addie couldn’t stand the sound of that stupid watch going off every few minutes, even in the middle of the night. He pushes it every time he can’t remember what time it is, which is all the time.”
    â€œAnd he can’t see the clocks,” Buddy mused. “It must be very hard to be almost blind.”
    â€œYeah. It’s hard on the rest of the family, too.” Max kicked at a rock that bordered the pathway to the garden. “He’s really upset because he can’t see to read anymore. And even when somebody else reads to him, or he plays those tapes from the Services for the Blind, he can’t remember until the next day what he’s heard. You could read him the same thing, over and over, every day, and he wouldn’t get tired of it, because he’s already forgotten it.”
    â€œIs that what you meant about the family being dys—dysfunctional ? But he can’t help it, can he?”
    â€œNo, he’s not the one who’s weird, except for being forgetful. It’s the rest of them. Addie and Cassie and my old man. Hey, you smell that?”
    â€œThe roast?” Buddy asked, confused. Whywould anyone look alarmed at the smell of cooking meat?
    â€œNo, not roast, it’s paper. I hope he didn’t start another fire—”
    Max spun around and raced into the house, with Buddy at his heels. She could smell it, too, now: burning paper.
    The kitchen was full of smoke. As they came in from the back hall, Cassie hurried into the room from the other direction. “Oh, Grandpa, what have you done?”
    Max moved quickly toward the electric stove to turn off the burner that was glowing bright red. Then he reached for a metal spatula and shoved the burning newspaper off the burner into a dustpan he’d grabbed out of a broom closet.
    â€œHe laid the paper on the stove again,” he said.
    â€œGrandpa, you mustn’t turn on the stove,” Cassie scolded him mildly, nudging him toward a chair at the table. “Don’t you remember?”
    â€œTime for tea,” Grandpa said. “Isn’t it?” He punched his watch and listened to it tell the time. “I was going to heat the water.”
    â€œBut there’s no teakettle,” Cassie protested. She began to fan the smoke toward the back door, where Max had carried the still smoldering newspaper.
    â€œI told you,” Addie said, entering from the dining room. “We’re going to have to take the knobs off that stove or he’s going to burn the place down. In fact, I’m going to remove them right now. That’s the second time in two weeks he’s set something on fire.”
    â€œAren’t I going to get my tea, Sister?” Grandpa asked. “And maybe a cookie?”
    â€œWell, I’ll heat some water first. We could all use a cup of tea,” Cassie said, opening a cupboard for cups. “It’ll be