Little Hossein was the first person I knew who died. We started calling him Little Hossein when Big Hossein moved down from the mountains to live with his brother Mohammed, our cook. Little Hossein was older than me, but just my size. His head was shaved. His father, Mashala, our gardener, spent the whole day, every day, watering the rose bushes, because the minute he stopped they got dusty. Little Hossein’s skin was the color of the dust and smelled like 1)kerosene. One day, Big Hossein found him stealing 2)Kool Pops from our refrigerator and hit him on the head with his 3)flip-flops. Over and over. Harder and harder. Little Hossein started to cry, and so did I.
小侯赛因是我认识的人之中最早过世的。大侯赛因从山上搬下来和他的哥哥——我们的厨师穆罕默德一起住，从那时候起我们就叫他小侯赛因。小侯赛因比我年长，但是个头跟我差不多，头发被剃光了。他的爸爸马萨拉是我们的花匠，他每天给玫瑰花洒水，一弄就是一整天，因为只要他停下来，玫瑰就会染尘。小侯赛因的肤色就像尘土的颜色一样，身上闻起来有股煤油味。有一次，大侯赛因发现他从我们的冰箱里偷棒冰吃，就用自己的人字拖打他的头，打了一下又一下，越打越猛。小侯赛因哭了，我也哭了。