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TheHouseonMangoStreetWedidn’talwaysliveonMangoStreet.BeforethatwelivedonLoomisonthethirdfloor,andbeforethatwelivedonKeeleritwasPaulina,andbeforethatIcan’tremember,ButwhatIremembermostismovingalot.Eachtimeitseemsthere’dbeonemoreofus.BythetimewegottoMangoStreetweweresix—Mama,Papa,Carlos,Kiki,mysisterNennyandme.ThehouseonMangoStreetisours,andwedon'thavetopayrenttoanybody,orsharetheyardwiththepeopledownstairs,orbecarefulnottomaketoomuchnoise,andthereisn'talandlordbangingontheceilingwithabroom.Butevenso,it'snotthehousewe'dthoughtwe'dget.WehadtoleavetheflatonLoomisquick.Thewaterpipesbrokeandthelanlordwouldn'tfixthembecausethehousewastooold.Wehadtoleavefast.Wewereusingthewashroomnextdoorandcarryingwateroverinemptymilkgallons.That'swhyMamaandPapalookedforahouse,andthat'swhywemovedintothehouseonMangoStreet,faraway,ontheothersideoftown.Theyalwaystoldusthatonedaywewouldmoveintoahouse,arealhousethatwouldbeoursforalwayssowewouldn'thavetomoveeachyear.Andourhousewouldhaverunningwaterandpipesthatworked.Andinsideitwouldhaverealstairs,nothallwaystairs,butstairsinsidelikethehousesonT.V.Andwe'dhaveabasementandatleastthreewashroomssowhenwetookabathwewouldn'thavetotelleverybody.Ourhousewouldbewhitewithtreesaroundit,agreatbigyardandgrassgrowingwithoutafence.ThiswasthehousePapatalkedaboutwhenheheldalotteryticketandthiswasthehouseMamadreamedupinthestoriesshetoldusbeforewewenttobed.ButthehouseonMangoStreetisnotthewaytheytolditatall.It'ssmallandredwithtightstepsinfrontandwindowssosmallyou'dthinktheywereholdingtheirbreath.Bricksarecrumblinginplaces,andthefrontdoorissoswollenyouhavetopushhardtogetin.Thereisnofrontyardonlyfourlittleelmsthecityplantedbythecurb.Outbackisasmallgarageforthecarwedon'townyetandasmallyardthatlookssmallerbetweenthetwobuildingsoneitherside.Therearestairsinourhouse,butthey'reordinaryhallwaystairs,andthehousehasonlyonewashroom.Everybodyhastoshareabedroom—MamaandPapa,CarlosandKiki,meandNenny.OncewhenwewerelivingonLoomis,anunfrommyschoolpassedbyandsawmeplayingoutfront.ThelaundromatdownstairshadbeenboardedupbecauseithadbeenrobbedtwodaysbeforeandtheownerhadpaintedonthewoodYESWE'REOPENsoasnottolosebusiness.Wheredoyoulive?Sheasked.There,Isaidpointinguptothethirdfloor.Youlivethere?There.Ihadtolooktowhereshepointed—thethirdfloor,thepaintpeeling,woodenbarsPapahadnailedonthewindowssowewouldn'tfallout.Youlivethere?Thewayshesaiditmademefeellikenothing.There.Ilivedthere.Inodded.IknewthenIhadtohaveahouse.Arealhouse.OneIcouldpointto.Butthisisn'tit.ThehouseonMangoStreetisn'tit.Forthetimebeing,Mamasays.Temporary,saysPapa.ButIknowhowthosethingsgo.下附译文芒果街上的小屋我们先前不住芒果街。先前我们住鲁米斯的三楼。再先前我们住吉勒。吉勒往前是波琳娜，再前面我就不记得了。我记得最清楚的是：搬了好多次家。似乎每搬一次，我们就多出一个人。搬到芒果街时，我们有了六个——妈妈、爸爸、卡洛斯、奇奇、妹妹蕾妮和我。芒果街上的小屋是我们的，我们不用交房租给任何人，或者和楼下的人合用一个院子，或者小心翼翼别弄出太多的声响，这里也没有拿扫帚猛敲天花板的房东。可就算这样，它也不是我们原来以为自己可以得到的那样的房子。我们得赶紧搬出鲁米斯的公寓。水管破了，房东不愿来修理，因为房子太老。我们得快快离开。我们借用着邻居的卫生间，用空的牛奶壶把水装过来。这就是为什么爸妈要找房子,这就是为什么我们搬进了芒果街上的小屋,远远地，从城市的那一边。他们一直对我们说,有一天，我们会搬进一所房子,一所真正的大屋,永远属于我们,那样我们就不用每年搬家了。我们的房子会有自来水和好用的水管。里面还有真正的楼梯,不是门厅台阶，而是像电视上的房子里那样的楼梯。我们会有一个地下室和至少三个卫生间,那样洗澡的时候就不用告诉每个人。我们的房子会是白色的,四周有树木,还有一个很大的院子,草儿生长着,没有篱笆把它们圈起来。这是爸爸手握彩票时讲的房子,这是妈妈在给我们讲的睡前故事里幻想着的房子。可是芒果街上的小屋全然不是他们讲的那样。它很小,是红色的,门前一方窄台阶,窗户小得让你觉得它们像是在屏着呼吸。几处墙砖蚀成了粉。前门那么鼓,你要用力推才进得来。这里没有前院,只有四棵市政栽在路边的小榆树。屋后有个小车库,是用来装我们还没买的小汽车的,还有个小院子,夹在两边的楼中间,越发显得小了。我们的房子里有楼梯,可那只是普通的门厅台阶,而且房子里只有一个卫生间。每个人都要和别人合用一间卧房—妈妈和爸爸、卡洛斯和奇奇、我和蕾妮。我们住在鲁米斯时,有一回学校的嬷嬷经过那里,看到我在房前玩。楼下的自助洗衣店被用木板封了起来，因为两天前刚被洗劫过。为了不走掉生意，人主在木头上涂抹了几个字是“是的，我们在营业”“你住在哪里？”她问。那里。我说。指了指三楼。你住在那里？那里。我不得不朝她指的地方看去——三层楼上，那里墙皮斑驳，窗上横着几根木条，是爸爸钉上去的，那样我们就不会掉出来。你住在那里？她说话的样子让我觉得自己什么都不是。那里。我住在那里。我点头。于是我明白，我得有一所房子。一所真正的大屋。一所可以指给别人看的房子。可这里不是。芒果街上的小屋不是。目前就这样，妈妈说。这是暂时的，爸爸说。可我知道事情是怎样的。