"Grandson, sir," said Lou.

"Don't quibble. You're in deep enough now, young man," said Gramps, but
he made the change. And, from there, he went without a misstep through
the phrasing of the disinheritance, causes for which were
disrespectfulness and quibbling.

* * * * *

In the paragraph following, the paragraph that had belonged to everyone
in the room at one time or another, Lou's name was scratched out and
Willy's substituted as heir to the apartment and, the biggest plum of
all, the double bed in the private bedroom.

"So!" said Gramps, beaming. He erased the date at the foot of the will
and substituted a new one, including the time of day. "Well--time to
watch the McGarvey Family." The McGarvey Family was a television serial
that Gramps had been following since he was 60, or for a total of 112
years. "I can't wait to see what's going to happen next," he said.

Lou detached himself from the group and lay down on his bed of pain by
the bathroom door. Wishing Em would join him, he wondered where she was.

He dozed for a few moments, until he was disturbed by someone stepping
over him to get into the bathroom. A moment later, he heard a faint
gurgling sound, as though something were being poured down the washbasin
drain. Suddenly, it entered his mind that Em had cracked up, that she
was in there doing something drastic about Gramps.

"Em?" he whispered through the panel. There was no reply, and Lou
pressed against the door. The worn lock, whose bolt barely engaged its
socket, held for a second, then let the door swing inward.

"Morty!" gasped Lou.

Lou's great-grandnephew, Mortimer, who had just married and brought his
wife home to the Ford menage, looked at Lou with consternation and
surprise. Morty kicked the door shut, but not before Lou had glimpsed
what was in his hand--Gramps' enormous economy-size bottle of
anti-gerasone, which had apparently been half-emptied, and which Morty
was refilling with tap water.

A moment later, Morty came out, glared defiantly at Lou and brushed past
him wordlessly to rejoin his pretty bride.

Shocked, Lou didn't know what to do. He couldn't let Gramps take the
mousetrapped anti-gerasone--but, if he warned Gramps about it, Gramps
would certainly make life in the apartment, which was merely
insufferable now, harrowing.

Lou glanced into the living room and saw that the Fords, Emerald among
them, were momentarily at rest, relishing the bot