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Little Hossein was the first person I knew who died. We started calling him Little Hossein when Big Hossein moved down from the mountains to live with his brother Mohammed, our cook. Little Hossein was older than me, but just my size. His head was shaved. His father, Mashala, our gardener, spent the whole day, every day, watering the rose bushes, because the minute he stopped they got dusty. Little Hossein’s skin was the color of the dust and smelled like 1)kerosene. One day, Big Hossein found him stealing 2)Kool Pops from our refrigerator and hit him on the head with his 3)flip-flops. Over and over. Harder and harder. Little Hossein started to cry, and so did I.
After that I guess we were friends, except I spied on him and he spied on me. He crept onto the terrace and looked through my bedroom window. I told him the picture of President Kennedy on my 4)dresser was the 5)Shah of 6)Emrika. He stared through my window at that picture a lot. Or maybe he was looking at my 7)piggy bank right next to it. He’d stand outside my window where my bike was parked. It was a three-speed from the States, but finally I let him borrow it. He rode it outside the gate to the village. He didn’t let the village boys ride it, but he rode it round and round the square while the boys tried to push him off. Every morning I had to walk past the 8)sand dunes on my way from the gate to the school bus. The village boys hid behind the sand dunes. They threw stones that hit the gravel near my feet. One day when I came back from school Little Hossein was hiding with them.
Then my bike disappeared. Mohammed saw the village boys riding it. That evening I heard Mohammed and Mashala and Big Hossein yelling at Little Hossein. You could hear the flip-flops slapping his head all the way from the servants’ 9)quarters. Early in the morning Little Hossein tapped on my window 10)screen. We snuck out of the gate and hid behind the sand dunes. We waited. The sun rose. The 11)mullah stopped singing. The roosters stopped kukulooing. Then Hassan, the tall, skinny, meanest one, appeared from far across the desert, riding my bike, 12)skidding and scraping the tires. He was singing when he passed us. Little Hossein jumped from behind the sand dunes and 13)knocked him over. I shouted, “Thief. Thief. Thief!” Hassan scraped his face on the gravel but held tight to the bike. They were yelling about money and Hassan kept saying, “Hossein 14)AGHA! Mr. Hossein. BIG Hossein!” Then he yelled, “15)TEEF. TEEF. TEEF!” and turned my bike upside down. The tires were still spinning fast. He grabbed Little Hossein by the back of his neck. He pushed Little Hossein’s face at the bicycle, pressing his tongue against the tire until the spinning stopped. Then Hassan 16)yanked Little Hossein’s head back and at me. His tongue was covered with dirt and
Big Hossein didn’t get fired for selling my bike. Little Hossein stopped sneaking around my window, even when the 10-speed came from 18)A.P.O. He hid with the village boys and whispered, “Teef. Teef, Teef,” with them every day when I got off the school bus. The snot stayed on his face and his throat got swollen. Finally Mashala took him to the hospital. The next morning when the Mullah stopped singing I heard Mashala crying so loud that the roosters hushed. Mohammed said it was the will of God.
小小侯赛因
小侯赛因是我认识的人之中最早过世的。大侯赛因从山上搬下来和他的哥哥——我们的厨师穆罕默德一起住，从那时候起我们就叫他小侯赛因。小侯赛因比我年长，但是个头跟我差不多，头发被剃光了。他的爸爸马萨拉是我们的花匠，他每天给玫瑰花洒水，一弄就是一整天，因为只要他停下来，玫瑰就会染尘。小侯赛因的肤色就像尘土的颜色一样，身上闻起来有股煤油味。有一次，大侯赛因发现他从我们的冰箱里偷棒冰吃，就用自己的人字拖打他的头，打了一下又一下，越打越猛。小侯赛因哭了，我也哭了。
自那次以后，我想我们成了朋友，只是我会悄悄地偷看他，他也会偷瞄我。他会溜到阳台，从我房间的窗户往里看。我告诉他，梳妆台上那张照片上的肯尼迪总统就是美国的沙阿。他常常隔着我的窗户盯着那张照片看。或许他只是盯着旁边我那个小猪储钱罐。 他会站在窗外我停着自行车的地方。那是一辆从美国带回来的三倍变速自行车，但是我最终还是借给他骑了。他骑着自行车出了大门，去到村子里。他没有让村里的男孩骑，不过就算那些男孩想把他拉下车，他还是在广场那儿一圈又一圈地骑。每天早上，从大门走去坐校车的路上，我不得不经过一些沙丘。村里的男孩会藏在沙丘后面，往我脚边的碎石扔石头。有一天，我放学回来，看到小侯赛因和他们一起藏在沙丘后面。
之后，我的自行车就不见了。穆罕默德看到村里的男孩骑着它。那天晚上，我听到穆罕默德和马萨拉还有大侯赛因对小侯赛因大吼大叫。即使和仆人宿舍隔得老远，你也能听见人字拖拍打小侯赛因的头的声音。第二天一大早，小侯赛因就来敲我的纱窗。我们悄悄地逃出大门，藏在沙丘后面，静心等待着。太阳升起来了。毛拉的歌声停止了。公鸡也不再咕咕咕地叫了。接着，哈桑，那个瘦高且最卑鄙的，在沙漠的另一头出现了，骑着我的自行车，刹车减速时车胎摩擦着地面。他骑过我们旁边时还唱着歌。小侯赛因从沙丘后面跳出来，把他打下自行车。我大叫道：“小偷，小偷，小偷！”哈桑的脸擦到了 碎石，却还紧紧抓着自行车不放。他们喊着“钱”什么的，哈桑一直在说：“侯赛因大人！侯赛因先生。大侯赛因！”然后他一边叫着“小偷，小偷，小偷！”一边把我的自行车倒转过来。车轮还在飞快地转着。他抓住小侯赛因脖子的后部，把他的脸按到自行车上，再把他的舌头压到车胎上直至车轮停止转动。接着哈桑将小侯赛因的头猛地朝我这边一甩。小侯赛因的舌头已经沾满了尘土和鼻涕。
大侯赛因并没因为卖掉我的自行车而被解雇。小侯赛因也不再在我的窗户边走来走去，即便是那辆十倍变速的自行车从美国陆军军邮局送过来时。每天我从校车上下来时，他都和村里的男孩一起藏起来，轻声念叨着：“小偷，小偷，小偷。”他一直流着鼻涕，喉咙还肿了起来。最后，马萨拉带他去了医院。第二天，当毛拉停止晨唱时，我听到马萨拉在痛哭，哭声大得连公鸡都不敢叫了。穆罕默德说，这是天意。
After that I guess we were friends, except I spied on him and he spied on me. He crept onto the terrace and looked through my bedroom window. I told him the picture of President Kennedy on my 4)dresser was the 5)Shah of 6)Emrika. He stared through my window at that picture a lot. Or maybe he was looking at my 7)piggy bank right next to it. He’d stand outside my window where my bike was parked. It was a three-speed from the States, but finally I let him borrow it. He rode it outside the gate to the village. He didn’t let the village boys ride it, but he rode it round and round the square while the boys tried to push him off. Every morning I had to walk past the 8)sand dunes on my way from the gate to the school bus. The village boys hid behind the sand dunes. They threw stones that hit the gravel near my feet. One day when I came back from school Little Hossein was hiding with them.
Then my bike disappeared. Mohammed saw the village boys riding it. That evening I heard Mohammed and Mashala and Big Hossein yelling at Little Hossein. You could hear the flip-flops slapping his head all the way from the servants’ 9)quarters. Early in the morning Little Hossein tapped on my window 10)screen. We snuck out of the gate and hid behind the sand dunes. We waited. The sun rose. The 11)mullah stopped singing. The roosters stopped kukulooing. Then Hassan, the tall, skinny, meanest one, appeared from far across the desert, riding my bike, 12)skidding and scraping the tires. He was singing when he passed us. Little Hossein jumped from behind the sand dunes and 13)knocked him over. I shouted, “Thief. Thief. Thief!” Hassan scraped his face on the gravel but held tight to the bike. They were yelling about money and Hassan kept saying, “Hossein 14)AGHA! Mr. Hossein. BIG Hossein!” Then he yelled, “15)TEEF. TEEF. TEEF!” and turned my bike upside down. The tires were still spinning fast. He grabbed Little Hossein by the back of his neck. He pushed Little Hossein’s face at the bicycle, pressing his tongue against the tire until the spinning stopped. Then Hassan 16)yanked Little Hossein’s head back and at me. His tongue was covered with dirt and
Big Hossein didn’t get fired for selling my bike. Little Hossein stopped sneaking around my window, even when the 10-speed came from 18)A.P.O. He hid with the village boys and whispered, “Teef. Teef, Teef,” with them every day when I got off the school bus. The snot stayed on his face and his throat got swollen. Finally Mashala took him to the hospital. The next morning when the Mullah stopped singing I heard Mashala crying so loud that the roosters hushed. Mohammed said it was the will of God.
小小侯赛因
小侯赛因是我认识的人之中最早过世的。大侯赛因从山上搬下来和他的哥哥——我们的厨师穆罕默德一起住，从那时候起我们就叫他小侯赛因。小侯赛因比我年长，但是个头跟我差不多，头发被剃光了。他的爸爸马萨拉是我们的花匠，他每天给玫瑰花洒水，一弄就是一整天，因为只要他停下来，玫瑰就会染尘。小侯赛因的肤色就像尘土的颜色一样，身上闻起来有股煤油味。有一次，大侯赛因发现他从我们的冰箱里偷棒冰吃，就用自己的人字拖打他的头，打了一下又一下，越打越猛。小侯赛因哭了，我也哭了。
自那次以后，我想我们成了朋友，只是我会悄悄地偷看他，他也会偷瞄我。他会溜到阳台，从我房间的窗户往里看。我告诉他，梳妆台上那张照片上的肯尼迪总统就是美国的沙阿。他常常隔着我的窗户盯着那张照片看。或许他只是盯着旁边我那个小猪储钱罐。 他会站在窗外我停着自行车的地方。那是一辆从美国带回来的三倍变速自行车，但是我最终还是借给他骑了。他骑着自行车出了大门，去到村子里。他没有让村里的男孩骑，不过就算那些男孩想把他拉下车，他还是在广场那儿一圈又一圈地骑。每天早上，从大门走去坐校车的路上，我不得不经过一些沙丘。村里的男孩会藏在沙丘后面，往我脚边的碎石扔石头。有一天，我放学回来，看到小侯赛因和他们一起藏在沙丘后面。
之后，我的自行车就不见了。穆罕默德看到村里的男孩骑着它。那天晚上，我听到穆罕默德和马萨拉还有大侯赛因对小侯赛因大吼大叫。即使和仆人宿舍隔得老远，你也能听见人字拖拍打小侯赛因的头的声音。第二天一大早，小侯赛因就来敲我的纱窗。我们悄悄地逃出大门，藏在沙丘后面，静心等待着。太阳升起来了。毛拉的歌声停止了。公鸡也不再咕咕咕地叫了。接着，哈桑，那个瘦高且最卑鄙的，在沙漠的另一头出现了，骑着我的自行车，刹车减速时车胎摩擦着地面。他骑过我们旁边时还唱着歌。小侯赛因从沙丘后面跳出来，把他打下自行车。我大叫道：“小偷，小偷，小偷！”哈桑的脸擦到了 碎石，却还紧紧抓着自行车不放。他们喊着“钱”什么的，哈桑一直在说：“侯赛因大人！侯赛因先生。大侯赛因！”然后他一边叫着“小偷，小偷，小偷！”一边把我的自行车倒转过来。车轮还在飞快地转着。他抓住小侯赛因脖子的后部，把他的脸按到自行车上，再把他的舌头压到车胎上直至车轮停止转动。接着哈桑将小侯赛因的头猛地朝我这边一甩。小侯赛因的舌头已经沾满了尘土和鼻涕。
大侯赛因并没因为卖掉我的自行车而被解雇。小侯赛因也不再在我的窗户边走来走去，即便是那辆十倍变速的自行车从美国陆军军邮局送过来时。每天我从校车上下来时，他都和村里的男孩一起藏起来，轻声念叨着：“小偷，小偷，小偷。”他一直流着鼻涕，喉咙还肿了起来。最后，马萨拉带他去了医院。第二天，当毛拉停止晨唱时，我听到马萨拉在痛哭，哭声大得连公鸡都不敢叫了。穆罕默德说，这是天意。