A Little Piece of Ground by Elizabeth Laird

Author:Elizabeth Laird
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, ebook
ISBN: 978-1-60846-583-5
Publisher: Haymarket Books
Published: 2016-01-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The metal door at the front of the little stone house was ajar and Hopper pushed it further open, kicking off his shoes to leave them on the step outside. Karim and Joni followed shyly.

They’d entered a small living room with plain whitewashed walls. A sofa, bright with embroidered cushions, ran the length of one wall, and two big armchairs and a low coffee table, on which stood a small display of artificial flowers, used up most of the rest of the space. An old man was sitting on one of the chairs. His head was covered with a snowy-white keffiyeh, which was held in place by two circles of black rope. His eyes were bright and sharp against the weathered, wrinkled skin of his nut-brown face. He had been staring down at the floor, his hands resting on the head of his stick, but when the boys came in he looked up and his face brightened.

“Ya, Sami,” he said, looking at Hopper.

“Sami?” thought Karim, surprised. That must be Hopper’s real name.

He looked at Hopper again. Having an ordinary name made him seem younger somehow.

Hopper bent down to kiss his grandfather.

“These are my friends, sidi,” he said. “Karim and Joni.”

“You are very welcome.” The old man waved a hand. “Sit down. Sit down.”

Hopper disappeared through an open doorway. Karim and Joni, sitting tongue-tied on the edge of the sofa, heard the clatter of dishes and murmur of voices beyond, then Hopper reappeared with his mother following. Karim recognized the woman carrying the sack who had called out to him before. She showed no sign of remembering him. Her eyes were red and her face was heavy with exhaustion, but she summoned up a smile.

“This is Joni. He goes to a private school,” Hopper said, trying to impress her. “And Karim. He’s my friend from our school. He lives on the other side of town. He gets really good marks for everything.”

Karim wriggled with embarrassment. He could hardly believe the transformation that had come over Hopper. The daring, free-spirited boy had been replaced by a dutiful, respectful son. He seemed to have shrunk, to have become younger and smaller.

Hopper’s mother pulled a few coins out of her pocket and passed them to him with a murmured instruction. He darted out of the main door and a few minutes later was back with a clutch of soda bottles in each hand. He opened them with a flick of the bottle opener lying on the table and passed them around. Karim and Joni drank gratefully, suddenly aware of their thirst.

“Is that Salim?” asked Karim, looking up at a framed picture hanging high on the wall, just below the ceiling. It showed a slim-faced young man with a serious expression.

“No. It’s an old one. It’s my father,” said Hopper.

The old man sighed and shook his head.

“Peace be upon him.”

Joni and Karim exchanged looks, feeling uncomfortable. Hopper’s mother sighed heavily.

“It was one year ago, almost exactly,” she said.

“He went to Kuwait to find work,” Hopper explained gruffly.

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