Rabbit's New Street

The Last Box

Everything in Imani's new room came from a box, except the room itself. The walls were unfamiliar. The window looked onto the wrong tree. Even Rabbit seemed surprised when Imani set him on the bed.

“Our old house knew where we kept everything,” Imani said. “This house does not know us.”

Dad opened the last box. Inside lay the patchwork blanket, the night-light and a jar of paper stars.

Teaching a House

They put the blanket on the bed. Imani placed Rabbit where the pillow met the wall. She stuck one paper star beside the door.

Then they walked outside. Number twelve had wind chimes. Number sixteen had a red bicycle. At number eighteen, a child watered mint in a pot and waved.

“I am Noor,” the child said. “The street sounds strange at night, but it is only the late bus and Mr Chen closing his gate.”

Imani listened that evening. Rumble: the bus. Clink: the gate. Tinkle: the wind chimes.

A New Familiar

For seven nights, Imani added one star to the wall and one thing she had learned. The kitchen floor creaked near the fridge. Morning sun found Rabbit's left ear. Noor knocked twice when she came to play.

On the eighth night, Dad asked whether the house knew them yet.

Imani looked at the stars, the blanket and Rabbit's bright morning ear. “It is learning,” she said.

Outside came the bus, the gate and the chimes. This time they did not sound wrong. They sounded like Imani's new street saying goodnight.