Glass Collector Read Online Free PDF Page B

has vanished, after stopping to talk to a friend.
    Aaron lets go of Abe’s shoulder when they spot the soccer ball resting on the same spot on the stained concrete floor where he left it earlier. Abe runs to kick it into the air, but suddenly Lijah’s there and belts it with the flat of his arm. The ball shoots to the ceiling, bouncing back with a thump. They scramble to catch it, but Lijah knocks Abe out of the way, grabs the ball with one hand, and tackles Aaron to the floor, kicking him in the side for good measure the second he’s down. Lijah has only one method of communicating: his fists and feet.
    Aaron curls into a ball to protect himself, but Lijah loses interest and walks off with the ball under his arm, smiling happily.
    “Hey! Hey!” Abe shouts.
    “Don’t worry.” Aaron picks himself up. “He only wants it because you’re with me. He hates soccer.”
    But Abe’s close to tears. Lijah’s taken the only thing he owns.
    “I promise you’ll get it back.”
    Doing his best to reassure Abe, Aaron leads the way up the filthy concrete stairs to the muggy room where his family eats, lives, and sleeps. In a corner cupboard is a hole in the floor—the toilet. Four curling mats are thrown against three walls. A small gas stove dominates a tiny area full of bent pots and pans crusted with baked-on food. There’s a blackened bucket and tap beside it and two threadbare towels on a nail. Soiled sweatshirts sit on top of a straggle of dirty jeans. Another bucket, a large metal box, a picture of Jesus on the cross, and an apple core are under the small open space that serves as a window.
    Aaron drags the metal box out to the middle of the floor and edges off the lid with his fingernails. A whiff of stale herbs and sweet spices fills the air as it clatters to the concrete floor. Half-empty screw-top jars of paprika, coriander seeds, black peppercorns, and green cardamom pods roll from side to side, clonking against the sides of the tin. Paper bags of rice, lentils, falafels, three fat tomatoes, and a bottle of chilli sauce take up the corner spaces, along with a bunch of hibiscus leaves, a stack of flatbreads, and a box of eggs.
    Abe gazes in amazement at the contents. “How come you’ve got so much food?”
    “It’s Monday. Hosi buys everything for the week today. It will all be gone by Wednesday at the latest. Here.”
    In a flash he hands Abe bread, a tomato, two crumbling falafel and the bottle of chili sauce, then sits on the floor beside him to picnic.
    “Wait a minute.”
    Aaron leans over to replace the lid on the box so he can drop his food on top before awkwardly getting up to turn on the tap and wash his hands, as the priest said they must before eating. But the dirt is too ingrained for the water to make much difference to the color of his skin, and the scrap of soap stuck to the sink is dirtier than he is.
    Aaron shoves his mouth under the sparkling, warm water, gulping quickly before patting a dirty towel with dripping fingers. Abe’s too busy pushing bread into his mouth to follow suit and is almost finished before Aaron starts. Three minutes later they’re on their feet, wiping crumbs from their jeans, and Aaron smiles.
    “You wanna sit on the wall, then?” he asks.
    “What about my soccer ball?” Abe can’t believe Aaron’s forgotten about it already.
    “Lijah’s always hanging around near the church.”
    Aaron tries bending his knee once or twice before putting his weight on his left foot. It doesn’t feel too bad, but the side where Lijah kicked him is tender to the touch. He tries not to think again about how much he’d like to kill Lijah.
    “Don’t worry,” he says. “We’ll find him. Do you know who I saw today?”
    “No. Who?”
    Flies track their footsteps as they leave the dark room and head into the harsh, airless heat of the afternoon.
    “Mary, Mother of God.” Aaron smiles nervously.
    “The picture that Jacob’s cousin Karim has stuck on the back of his cart? I