I Think of You: Stories Read Free Page A

green raincoat. She runs into my father’s arms and I embrace her legs. She bends to pick me up and she is laughing and crying at the same time.
    Now I remember a new home. It is much smaller than the ones we’ve left behind and not so pretty. But there is a fire in the living room wall. Everything here is much colder, much darker than I’m used to. There is no one; no one except my parents. And I don’t see very much of them, for I am sent to school. My parents are pleased that I find my feet and learnthe new language so easily. I miss my aunts and uncles and grandparents. But now I like my new friends. I like sitting on the floor on a huge sheet of paper and painting gray castles and soldiers in red and black uniforms. I like cuddling up to Miss Eve at storytime. I like taking a goldfish home for the holidays. I miss the sun. But I like the evenings when I sit at my mother’s feet in front of the fire. She reads and writes and I look at pictures. There are no sugar dolls, no Ramadan lantern, no Eid, and no sheep. But instead there is Father Christmas and a stockingful of presents.
    A new routine is introduced: I am initiated into a semi-grown-up role. Once a week my parents go out in the evening and I am left on my own. My mother gives me my bath and my dinner, then tucks me up in bed with a hot-water bottle. Both my mother and father kiss me good night. A small night-light is left burning. I don’t mind at all. I tell myself stories till I fall asleep. In the morning the brownie will have visited me and left a chocolate or a packet of sweets under my pillow. He always comes when my parents go out in the evening. He never forgets. I try to wait up for him but I always fall asleep.
    One night after I’ve fallen asleep I am suddenly wide awake. I sit up in bed and there, by the wall, I see him. He is a cross between a tiny man and a hamster. He is running quickly, upright on two legs, and he wears a little green suit and hat. He has a human face with a black mouse snout and pointed pixie ears. I know instantly that it’s the brownie and I sit very still so as not to frighten him away. Then I wonder about his gift. I slip my hand under the pillow, but there’snothing there. I twist around to look and make sure. Still nothing. When I look up, he has gone. I know he will be back with my present, so I sit up to wait for him. The next thing I know it is morning and my mother is waking me up. There is a bag of licorice under the pillow. Over cornflakes I tell my parents that I’ve seen the brownie. At first they smile; then as I describe the scene in detail, they start to look anxious.
    “You couldn’t have, dear.”
    “But I did.”
    “You must have dreamt it.”
    “But I was sitting up in bed. I wasn’t asleep.”
    “You couldn’t really have seen the brownie.”
    “Why?”
    “Because … well, because he can only come when you’re asleep.”
    “But I was asleep. Then I woke up and he ran away.”
    They stop arguing with me but they still look uncomfortable and I cannot understand why.
    An important event now takes place: I learn to read. One day, all of a sudden, the black marks around the pictures make sense and I am reading. Now every day on the way home from school, we stop at the public library and get me a book. Also, once a week I buy Playhour and Robin. I want to do nothing but read. I read and I read and I make up more sto-r ies. I go r ight through Little Gray Rabbit and Noddy and Hans Christian Andersen and my world is peopled with fascinating characters and bursting with adventure. Pinocchio and Squirrel go with me everywhere. I take to saving up my pocketmoney and buying comics. The brownie stops bringing me sweets and brings me books instead. Every book is a treasure trove and I play a part in every story.
    One week I go to get my Playhour and am attracted by another comic. The cover shows a man in a black cloak and a beautiful blonde lady. The lady is tired, so he is carrying her and smiling.