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When his grandpa drew a yogurt mustache above Alan’s lips, the boy dissolved into giggles
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Picturing himself with real whiskers thrilled Alan, who thought that facial hair might make up for being shorter than the other boys in his class. “Your laughter woke me up, you cheeky monkey!” Uncle Soran, youngest of the six uncles and the only one awake, tousled Alan’s hair as he came onto the patio that opened to the yard. They sat around a nylon cloth spread atop a crimson handmade rug to eat breakfast. Alan laughed again. “Bapir, I want handlebars, please.” With a chapped finger, Bapir curled the ends of the yogurt mustache on either side of Alan’s puckered-up...