(Q).
Macy Golong peeked into Mallie Mae's room and was not surprised to see her sleeping. Elmo's mother rarely stayed up past 10:00 PM, and it was nearly 11:00. She closed the door and started to go back to her room across the hall. She was halfway through a romance novel. But Hadley's delicious oatmeal raisin cookies were calling to her. She walked down the stairs to the kitchen and put a few cookies on a plate. Then she poured a glass of milk. She wondered what Elmo was doing. Was he in the Media Room with Carsie? Their Media Room? Before Elmo and Carsie got together, Elmo and Macy used to spend hours almost every night in that room. Some nights he had almost kissed her. She left her milk and cookies on the kitchen counter and went down another flight of stairs, which came out in the Recreation Room. Macy could hear the sound of the TV coming from Media Room. She tiptoed to the open doorway and peeked in. There she was--that conniving slut--sitting where Macy should have been. How could Elmo have replaced her like that? She thought he had been falling in love with her. How could she have been so wrong? But it could still happen--if that woman would just go away. Elmo said, "Yeah. So, beginning Monday there will be two doctors in the office. That should take a little pressure off. If I need to be out for a day or two, Dr. Edwards can fill in for me." "Yeah, or if you need to take off a week for a trip to Hawaii with your beautiful new wife." Carsie gave him a sexy smile. "That's right. Dr. Ernie will take care of everything while I'm gone." "Dr. Ernie?" "Yeah. I asked if he would mind being called 'Dr. Ernie'. His name is Ernest, but I thought 'Dr. Ernie' would fit in well with the Sesame Street theme of my office." "So the two of you are Drs. Elmo and Ernie?" "Yep." Question: What happened after Macy went downstairs to the recreation room? Options: - She saw Elmo and Carsie sitting in the Media room.   - She got some of Hadley's delicious cookies.   - not enough information   - She wondered about what Elmo might be doing. === The correct answer is
(A).
She saw Elmo and Carsie sitting in the Media room.


(Q).
November always dragged around the station, but today was one dead Sunday. Not one car pulled off the interstate all morning. Nothing hit the drive but a thin steady rain, puddling slow rainbows in the oil. Me and Harnie just tilted back our chairs against the cigarette rack, watched the monster movie, and waited for the game to start. The big flying turtle was about set to barbeque downtown Tokyo when the drive bell rang, and up sluiced a car so damn gorgeous it hurt to look at it. A '37 Buick Roadmaster it was, painted a red so rich it was nearly black, that straight eight engine whispering like a lover while teardrops of rain rolled down the chrome grill. Out climbed this tall fellow, dressed like God's grandpa done up for a wedding or a funeral. His skin was brown as a buckwheat cake, with creases deep as drainage ditches. Took a mighty long stretch of sweat and toil, love and birth and dying, to carve a face like that. He flexed his shoulders, then rolled his neck till it cracked. He pulled a pack of Camel straights from inside his vest and flipped one out. "Got a light?" His voice was deep and warm, half gravel, half honey. I tossed him a pack of matches through the open door; he caught it left-handed, then flipped it open, folded over a match, and struck it with his thumb. "This the town with the dead fiddler?" he said after a long drag on the smoke. "You might say so," I said, ignoring the look Harnie gave me. Nobody talked about her; I wondered how this fellow had even heard about her. "Ain't a fiddle, though. It's a cello, like in the symphony." The stranger shrugged. "Close enough." "She ain't d-dead, neither," Harnie said. "M-more sleeping, like." He puffed out a wreath of smoke. Then another. "Let's go wake her up," he said. "You best not try, mister," I said. "She been sleeping for thirty some year." Question: Who did the man ask for? Options: - directions   - not enough information   - dead fiddler   - mechanic === The correct answer is
(A).
dead fiddler


(Q).
I have never been a stop-and-smell-the-roses type of person. For me, there’s always something that has to be done. In fact, the biggest complaint that my husband and two children have about me is that I’m “always busy.” Seventeen years ago, when my oldest son was about a year old, he woke up in a very fussy mood. Instead of being his usual cheerful and compliant self, he just wanted to be cuddled. A mother’s dream, right? Well, not for me. There was too much to be done; I didn’t have time to hold him. I was well aware that in addition to some projects I was working on, there was laundry to be washed and ironed, breakfast dishes to do, a house that needed cleaning. My usual response would have been to try to coax my son into cheerfulness, or to put him back to bed to sleep it off. But it was clear that he was unwell, so against my usual inclination, I decided that I would just hold him. The chores could wait another day. So I settled into the recliner chair in the lounge room and held my son while he slept. I dozed occasionally too, waking up now and then to enjoy the feeling of snuggling my baby and looking at the world beyond the window. It was a cold day, but clear and sunny. The trees rustled in the gentle breeze, and birds and butterflies flitted about the garden. Inside, my son and I stayed snuggled together under a blanket for most of the day. He slept while I, for one of the few times in my life, just drank in the beauty of the world and the happiness of sharing this time with my son. Better mothers than I am must have done similar things many, many times with their children. But for me, this very small decision, this day of ‘laziness’, became a treasured memory. Question: How long did the mother cuddle with her son? Options: - a few minutes   - not enough information   - a few hours   - 24 hours === The correct answer is
(A).

a few hours