the kite runner-第24章

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t……but　then　he　just　wants　to　crawl　under　his　blanket。　Can　I　ask　you　something？　
　If　you　have　to。　
　After　that　kite　tournament；　he　came　home　a　little　bloodied　and　his　shirt　was　torn。　I　asked　him　what　had　happened　and　he　said　it　was　nothing；　that　he　d　gotten　into　a　little　scuffle　with　some　kids　over　the　kite。　
I　didn　t　say　anything。　Just　kept　pushing　the　egg　around　on　my　plate。
　Did　something　happen　to　him；　Amir　agha？　Something　he　s　not　telling　me？　
I　shrugged。　　How　should　I　know？　
　You　would　tell　me；　nay？　_Inshallah_；　you　would　tell　me　if　some　thing　had　happened？　
　Like　I　said；　how　should　I　know　what　s　wrong　with　him？　　I　snapped。　　Maybe　he　s　sick。　People　get　sick　all　the　time；　Ali。　Now；　am　I　going　to　freeze　to　death　or　are　you　planning　on　lighting　the　stove　today？　
THAT　NIGHT　I　asked　Baba　if　we　could　go　to　Jalalabad　on　Friday。　He　was　rocking　on　the　leather　swivel　chair　behind　his　desk；　reading　a　newspaper。　He　put　it　down；　took　off　the　reading　glasses　I　disliked　so　much……Baba　wasn　t　old；　not　at　all；　and　he　had　lots　of　years　left　to　live；　so　why　did　he　have　to　wear　those　stupid　glasses？
　Why　not！　　he　said。　Lately；　Baba　agreed　to　everything　I　asked。　Not　only　that；　just　two　nights　before；　he　d　asked　me　if　I　wanted　to　see　_El　Cid_　with　Charlton　Heston　at　Cinema　Aryana。　　Do　you　want　to　ask　Hassan　to　e　along　to　Jalalabad？　
Why　did　Baba　have　to　spoil　it　like　that？　　He　s　mazreez；　　I　said。　Not　feeling　well。
　Really？　　Baba　stopped　rocking　in　his　chair。　　What　s　wrong　with　him？　
I　gave　a　shrug　and　sank　in　the　sofa　by　the　fireplace。　　He　s　got　a　cold　or　something。　Ali　says　he　s　sleeping　it　off。　
　I　haven　t　seen　much　of　Hassan　the　last　few　days；　　Baba　said。　　That　s　all　it　is；　then；　a　cold？　　I　couldn　t　help　hating　the　way　his　brow　furrowed　with　worry。
　Just　a　cold。　So　are　we　going　Friday；　Baba？　
　Yes；　yes；　　Baba　said；　pushing　away　from　the　desk。　　Too　bad　about　Hassan。　I　thought　you　might　have　had　more　fun　if　he　came。　
　Well；　the　two　of　us　can　have　fun　together；　　I　said。　Baba　smiled。　Winked。　　Dress　warm；　　he　said。
IT　SHOULD　HAVE　BEEN　just　the　two　of　us……that　was　the　way；　I　wanted　it……but　by　Wednesday　night；　Baba　had　managed　to　invite　another　two　dozen　people。　He　called　his　cousin　Homayoun……he　was　actually　Baba　s　second　cousin……and　mentioned　he　was　going　to　Jalalabad　on　Friday；　and　Homayoun；　who　had　studied　engineering　in　France　and　had　a　house　in　Jalalabad；　said　he　d　love　to　have　everyone　over；　he　d　bring　the　kids；　his　two　wives；　and；　while　he　was　at　it；　cousin　Shafiqa　and　her　family　were　visiting　from　Herat；　maybe　she　d　like　to　tag　along；　and　since　she　was　staying　with　cousin　Nader　in　Kabul；　his　family　would　have　to　be　invited　as　well　even　though　Homayoun　and　Nader　had　a　bit　of　a　feud　going；　and　if　Nader　was　invited；　surely　his　brother　Faruq　had　to　be　asked　too　or　his　feelings　would　be　hurt　and　he　might　not　invite　them　to　his　daughter　s　wedding　next　month　and。。。
We　filled　three　vans。　I　rode　with　Baba；　Rahim　Khan；　Kaka　Homayoun……Baba　had　taught　me　at　a　young　age　to　call　any　older　male　Kaka；　or　Uncle；　and　any　older　female；　Khala；　or　Aunt。　Kaka　Homayoun　s　two　wives　rode　with　us　too……the　pinch…faced　older　one　with　the　warts　on　her　hands　and　the　younger　one　who　always　smelled　of　perfume　and　danced　with　her　eyes　close……as　did　Kaka　Homayoun　s　twin　girls。　I　sat　in　the　back　row；　carsick　and　dizzy；　sandwiched　between　the　seven…year…old　twins　who　kept　reaching　over　my　lap　to　slap　at　each　other。　The　road　to　Jalalabad　is　a　two…hour　trek　through　mountain　roads　winding　along　a　steep　drop；　and　my　stomach　lurched　with　each　hairpin　turn。　Everyone　in　the　van　was　talking；　talking　loudly　and　at　the　same　time；　nearly　shrieking；　which　is　how　Afghans　talk。　I　asked　one　of　the　twins……Fazila　or　Karima；　I　could　never　tell　which　was　which……if　she　d　trade　her　window　seat　with　me　so　I　could　get　fresh　air　on　account　of　my　car　sickness。　She　stuck　her　tongue　out　and　said　no。　I　told　her　that　was　fine；　but　I　couldn　t　be　held　accountable　for　vomiting　on　her　new　dress。　A　minute　later；　I　was　leaning　out　the　window。　I　watched　the　cratered　road　rise　and　fall；　whirl　its　tail　around　the　mountainside；　counted　the　multicolored　trucks　packed　with　squatting　men　lumbering　past。　I　tried　closing　my　eyes；　letting　the　wind　slap　at　my　cheeks；　opened　my　mouth　to　swallow　the　clean　air。　I　still　didn　t　feel　better。　A　finger　poked　me　in　the　side。　It　was　Fazila/Karima。
　What？　　I　said。
　I　was　just　telling　everyone　about　the　tournament；　　Baba　said　from　behind　the　wheel。　Kaka　Homayoun　and　his　wives　were　smiling　at　me　from　the　middle　row　of　seats。
　There　must　have　been　a　hundred　kites　in　the　sky　that　day？　　Baba　said。　　Is　that　about　right；　Amir？　
　I　guess　so；　　I　mumbled。
　A　hundred　kites；　Homayoun　jan。　No　_laaf_。　And　the　only　one　still　flying　at　the　end　of　the　day　was　Amir　s。　He　has　the　last　kite　at　home；　a　beautiful　blue　kite。　Hassan　and　Amir　ran　it　together。　
　Congratulations；　　Kaka　Homayoun　said。　His　first　wife；　the　one　with　the　warts；　clapped　her　hands。　　Wah　wah；　Amir　jan；　we　re　all　so　proud　of　you！　　she　said。　The　younger　wife　joined　in。　Then　they　were　all　clapping；　yelping　their　praises；　telling　me　how　proud　I　d　made　them　all。　Only　Rahim　Khan；　sitting　in　the　passenger　seat　next　to　Baba；　was　silent。　He　was　looking　at　me　in　an　odd　way。
　Please　pull　over；　Baba；　　I　said。
　What？　
　Getting　sick；　　I　muttered；　leaning　across　the　seat；　pressing　against　Kaka　Homayoun　s　daughters。
Fazilal/Karima　s　face　twisted。　　Pull　over；　Kaka！　His　face　is　yellow！　I　don　t　want　him　throwing　up　on　my　new　dress！　　she　squealed。
Baba　began　to　pull　over；　but　I　didn　t　make　it。　A　few　minutes　later；　I　was　sitting　on　a　rock　on　the　side　of　the　road　as　they　air