The Paper House Read Online Free

back and stuck it back in a different spot. The mural did not even cover one wall yet. She needed more pictures if she was going to paper the whole house.
    Cucu could be hours with Mrs. Okella. Once they got together, the two old ladies forgot everything except their game.
    Safiyah tucked the paste jar under Cucu’s bench. Then, with a quick glance at the neighbor’s house, she headed down the street toward the garbage dump.

Chapter Seven
    Near the railroad tracks, Safiyah dodged around a tangle of writhing and snapping dogs. Up the bank, a crowd of boys chased a train, waving and jeering at the passengers who stared down from the windows. The grinding wheels blew garbage and smelly fumes into the air.
    When she caught sight of the little boy who had tried to steal her magazines, Safiyah turned away. But she was not quick enough.
    â€œHey, girl.” He pranced in front of her. “Are you going back for more pictures?”
    Safiyah tried to dodge around him. She was glad to see that his friends had not noticed her.
    The boy darted to the side so quickly, he was right in front of her again. He had no front teeth. The blue T-shirt that hung down almost to his bare feet had white writing scrawled across it. “Is that your team?” Safiyah asked. Lots of kids had the names of soccer teams on their shirts. Whenever a big game was playing, the roar of the crowds on the radio and the cheers and taunts of Kibera soccer fans echoed through the alleys.
    The boy peered down at himself. “I borrowed it from my cousin.” He giggled. “He doesn’t mind.” He danced around her. “Are you going up the garbage hill again? What did you do with the pictures?”
    She stuck her chin in the air and kept walking.
    â€œMy name’s Chidi. What’s yours?” The boy did not bother to wait for an answer. “If you find pictures of cars, can I have them? Or if I help, will you pay me?”
    Chidi was like a pesky mosquito, buzzing around and around, but never landing, Safiyah thought. He walked backward ahead of her until he tripped over. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed her arm. “We can get much more if we look together.”
    She shook him off. “You are a noisy brat.”
    The dump rose far above Safiyah. From down here, it reminded her of a dead dog she’d once seen in an alley, crawling with maggots and bugs. Hordes of people and birds rooted through the garbage. Adults and children dug with sticks and held things up to look at before throwing them back down or stuffing them in their pockets. Today, the man who roamed the alleys collecting tins was pulling his loaded cart along behind him. A tin rolled off and stopped at Safiyah’s feet. When she bent to pick it up, the man grabbed it. “That’s mine,” he said. “What’s yours is yours and what’s mine is mine.” His eyes flashed as he laughed.
    Chidi giggled. “That’s what Rasul says,” he told Safiyah. “But he says that what’s mine is his, and what’s his is his too.” He plucked at his shirt. “But I got this off him, didn’t I?” He giggled.
    â€œIs he your cousin? Blade?” asked Safiyah. “Are you in his gang?”
    â€œHe says I’m too small.” Chidi pulled himself up straight and tucked his chin into his chest. “I’m not small, am I?”
    â€œYou’re quite big,” she said. She knew that even runty things like Chidi did not like to think of themselves as little.
    â€œI’m not allowed to call my cousin that name,” Chidi told her “I live with him and my uncle and aunt. He had a sister but she died.” He wiped his thin wrist across his dripping nose.
    Safiyah could not bear to hear about anyone else dying: first her father, when she was just a baby, and then her mother so soon after they arrived in Kibera. Now this little boy’s cousin. Safiyah scrambled onto the garbage