The House With Chicken Legs by Anderson Sophie

Author:Anderson, Sophie [Anderson, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Childrens
ISBN: 9781474948340
Google: 9yZKDwAAQBAJ
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 33832945
Publisher: Scholastic, Inc.
Published: 2018-04-04T22:00:00+00:00

Salma holds my hand and pulls me along crowded paths between rows of stalls. At first I’m worried I’ll fade and she’ll feel my hand disappear, but I’m soon distracted by the living. There are hundreds of them, young and old, dressed in clothes and hats of every shade and design I could ever have imagined. I try to pretend I’m one of them, just a normal, living girl, out for a walk with a friend.

Everything feels unreal, or somehow more than real, like all the colours and sounds have been made richer. Conical mounds of too-bright spices are piled so high they seem to defy gravity. Shining brass lamps and silverware glint like broken pieces of the sun and moon. A monkey in a waistcoat shrieks from a sea of blue-and-white ceramics, and a snake charmer smiles at me in front of a rainbow of jewelled slippers.

Last time I was here I followed Baba through these streets, carrying basketfuls of supplies. She told me not to draw attention to us, that we had to be wary of the living: “Beware the goat from the front, the horse from the rear, and the living from all sides.”

Thinking of Baba brings an ache to my heart and a hollowness to my belly. When she returns, I’ll tell her how I walked safely through the market with Salma. Maybe we don’t have to be so wary of the living after all. Maybe things can be different for us in the future.

“This is where my sister works.” Salma pulls me up to a large stall shaded by long, flowing silks and I’m confronted by a smiling, round lady who looks like an older version of Salma.

“Hello, I’m Aya.” Her gaze runs over my apron and old woollen dress and she shakes her head. “You must be roasting in that. I’ll make you a cool mint tea while you look around.” She disappears out the back and Salma leads me around the stall, picking up dresses and holding them under my chin.

“You have to try this one on.” She passes me a long green dress that matches my new headscarf, and once again, I’m reminded of Nina. The fabric is soft and light, and tiny shining beads swirl around the neckline.

“Oh, yes.” Aya emerges with a tray of iced mint tea and dates. “That looks like it was made for you.”

“It is beautiful.” I stare at the dress, unsure. It seems so fragile.

“Go on.” Salma nudges me into a changing area. “I’ll buy some chebakia while you try it on.”

By the time Salma returns, I feel like royalty. I’m sipping sweet mint tea while Aya paints my hands with henna. The dress is a cool breeze on my skin, and the beads catch the light like dewdrops.

“You look so different.” Salma smiles as she offers me a flower-shaped sesame cookie. “You have to get that dress.”

It’s easy to go along with Salma’s decision. I choose a scarf for Baba too; a black one with huge red flowers and long golden tassels.

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