the kite runner-第88部分

小说： the kite runner 字数：每页4000字

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ief。　And　a　thief　of　the　worst　kind；　because　the　things　he　d　stolen　had　been　sacred：　from　me　the　right　to　know　I　had　a　brother；　from　Hassan　his　identity；　and　from　Ali　his　honor。　His　nang。　His　namoos。
The　questions　kept　ing　at　me：　How　had　Baba　brought　himself　to　look　Ali　in　the　eye？　How　had　Ali　lived　in　that　house；　clay　in　and　day　out；　knowing　he　had　been　dishonored　by　his　master　in　the　single　worst　way　an　Afghan　man　can　be　dishonored？
And　how　was　I　going　to　reconcile　this　new　image　of　Baba　with　the　one　that　had　been　imprinted　on　my　mind　for　so　long；　that　of　him　in　his　old　brown　suit；　hobbling　up　the　Taheris　　driveway　to　ask　for　Soraya　s　hand？
Here　is　another　clich椤y　creative　writing　teacher　would　have　scoffed　at；　like　father；　like　son。　But　it　was　true；　wasn　t　it？　As　it　turned　out；　Baba　and　I　were　more　alike　than　I　d　ever　known。　We　had　both　betrayed　the　people　who　would　have　given　their　lives　for　us。　And　with　that　came　this　realization：　that　Rahim　Khan　had　summoned　me　here　to　atone　not　just　for　my　sins　but　for　Baba　s　too。
Rahim　Khan　said　I　d　always　been　too　hard　on　myself。　But　I　wondered。　True；　I　hadn　t　made　Ali　step　on　the　land　mine；　and　I　hadn　t　brought　the　Taliban　to　the　house　to　shoot　Hassan。　But　I　had　driven　Hassan　and　Ali　out　of　the　house。　Was　it　too　far…fetched　to　imagine　that　things　might　have　turned　out　differently　if　I　hadn　t？　Maybe　Baba　would　have　brought　them　along　to　America。　Maybe　Hassan　would　have　had　a　home　of　his　own　now；　a　job；　a　family；　a　life　in　a　country　where　no　one　cared　that　he　was　a　Hazara；　where　most　people　didn　t　even　know　what　a　Hazara　was。　Maybe　not。　But　maybe　so。
I　can　t　go　to　Kabul；　I　had　said　to　Rahim　Khan。　I　have　a　wife　in　America；　a　home；　a　career；　and　a　family。　But　how　could　I　pack　up　and　go　back　home　when　my　actions　may　have　cost　Hassan　a　chance　at　those　very　same　things？
I　wished　Rahim　Khan　hadn　t　called　me。　I　wished　he　had　let　me　live　on　in　my　oblivion。　But　he　had　called　me。　And　what　Rahim　Khan　revealed　to　me　changed　things。　Made　me　see　how　my　entire　life；　long　before　the　winter　of　1975；　dating　back　to　when　that　singing　Hazara　woman　was　still　nursing　me；　had　been　a　cycle　of　lies；　betrayals；　and　secrets。
There　is　a　way　to　be　good　again；　he　d　said。
A　way　to　end　the　cycle。
With　a　little　boy。　An　orphan。　Hassan　s　son。　Somewhere　in　Kabul。
ON　THE　RICKSHAW　RIDE　back　to　Rahim　Khan　s　apartment；　I　remembered　Baba　saying　that　my　problem　was　that　someone　had　always　done　my　fighting　for　me。　I　was　thirty…eight　flow。　My　hair　was　receding　and　streaked　with　gray；　and　lately　I　d
traced　little　crow　s…feet　etched　around　the　corners　of　my　eyes。　I　was　older　now；　but　maybe　not　yet　too　old　to　start　doing　my　own　fighting。　Baba　had　lied　about　a　lot　of　things　as　it　turned　out　but　he　hadn　t　lied　about　that。
I　looked　at　the　round　face　in　the　Polaroid　again；　the　way　the　sun　fell　on　it。　My　brother　s　face。　Hassan　had　loved　me　once；　loved　me　in　a　way　that　no　one　ever　had　or　ever　would　again。　He　was　gone　now；　but　a　little　part　of　him　lived　on。　It　was　in　Kabul。
Waiting。
I　FOUND　RAHIM　KHAN　praying　_namaz_　in　a　corner　of　the　room。　He　was　just　a　dark　silhouette　bowing　eastward　against　a　bloodred　sky。　I　waited　for　him　to　finish。
Then　I　told　him　I　was　going　to　Kabul。　Told　him　to　call　the　Caldwells　in　the　morning。
　I　ll　pray　for　you；　Amir　jan；　　he　said。
NINETEEN
Again；　the　car　sickness。　By　the　time　we　drove　past　the　bulletriddled　sign　that　read　THE　KHYBER　PASS　WELES　YOU；　my　mouth　had　begun　to　water。　Something　inside　my　stomach　churned　and　twisted。　Farid；　my　driver；　threw　me　a　cold　glance。　There　was　no　empathy　in　his　eyes。
　Can　we　roll　down　the　window？　　I　asked。
He　lit　a　cigarette　and　tucked　it　between　the　remaining　two　fingers　of　his　left　hand；　the　one　resting　on　the　steering　wheel。　Keeping　his　black　eyes　on　the　road；　he　stooped　forward；　picked　up　the　screwdriver　lying　between　his　feet；　and　handed　it　to　me。　I　stuck　it　in　the　small　hole　in　the　door　where　the　handle　belonged　and　turned　it　to　roll　down　my　window。
Farid　gave　me　another　dismissive　look；　this　one　with　a　hint　of　barely　suppressed　animosity；　and　went　back　to　smoking　his　cigarette。　He　hadn　t　sai

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第88部分

the kite runner-第88部分

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