the kite runner-第34章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


ho　had　caught　the　guard　s　eye。　The　soldier　flicked　his　unfinished　cigarette　and　unholstered　his　handgun。　So　this　is　where　Baba　dies；　I　thought。　This　is　how　it　s　going　to　happen。　In　my　head；　I　said　a　prayer　I　had　learned　in　school。
　Tell　him　I　ll　take　a　thousand　of　his　bullets　before　I　let　this　indecency　take　place；　　Baba　said。　My　mind　flashed　to　that　winter　day　six　years　ago。　Me；　peering　around　the　corner　in　the　alley。　Kamal　and　Wali　holding　Hassan　down。　Assef　s　buttock　muscles　clenching　and　unclenching；　his　hips　thrusting　back　and　forth。　Some　hero　I　had　been；　fretting　about　the　kite。　Sometimes；　I　too　wondered　if　I　was　really　Baba　s　son。
The　bulldog…faced　Russian　raised　his　gun。
　Baba；　sit　down　please；　　I　said；　tugging　at　his　sleeve。　　I　think　he　really　means　to　shoot　you。　
Baba　slapped　my　hand　away。　　Haven　t　I　taught　you　anything？　　he　snapped。　He　turned　to　the　grinning　soldier。　　Tell　him　he　d　better　kill　me　good　with　that　first　shot。　Because　if　I　don　t　go　down；　I　m　tearing　him　to　pieces；　goddamn　his　father！　
The　Russian　soldier　s　grin　never　faltered　when　he　heard　the　translation。　He　clicked　the　safety　on　the　gun。　Pointed　the　barrel　to　Baba　s　chest。　Heart　pounding　in　my　throat；　I　buried　my　face　in　my　hands。
The　gun　roared。
It　s　done；　then。　I　m　eighteen　and　alone。　I　have　no　one　left　in　the　world。　Baba　s　dead　and　now　I　have　to　bury　him。　Where　do　I　bury　him？　Where　do　I　go　after　that？
But　the　whirlwind　of　half　thoughts　spinning　in　my　head　came　to　a　halt　when　I　cracked　my　eyelids；　found　Baba　still　standing。　I　saw　a　second　Russian　officer　with　the　others。　It　was　from　the　muzzle　of　his　upturned　gun　that　smoke　swirled。　The　soldier　who　had　meant　to　shoot　Baba　had　already　holstered　his　weapon。　He　was　shuffling　his　feet。　I　had　never　felt　more　like　crying　and　laughing　at　the　same　time。
The　second　Russian　officer；　gray…haired　and　heavyset；　spoke　to　us　in　broken　Farsi。　He　apologized　for　his　rade　s　behavior。　　Russia　sends　them　here　to　fight；　　he　said。　　But　they　are　just　boys；　and　when　they　e　here；　they　find　the　pleasure　of　drug。　　He　gave　the　younger　officer　the　rueful　look　of　a　father　exasperated　with　his　misbehaving　son。　　This　one　is　attached　to　drug　now。　I　try　to　stop　him。。。　　He　waved　us　off。
Moments　later；　we　were　pulling　away。　I　heard　a　laugh　and　then　the　first　soldier　s　voice；　slurry　and　off…key；　singing　the　old　wedding　song。
WE　RODE　IN　SILENCE　for　about　fifteen　minutes　before　the　young　woman　s　husband　suddenly　stood　and　did　something　I　d　seen　many　others　do　before　him：　He　kissed　Baba　s　hand。
TOOR　S　BAD　LUCK。　Hadn　t　I　overheard　that　in　a　snippet　of　conversation　back　at　Mahipar？
We　rolled　into　Jalalabad　about　an　hour　before　sunrise。　Karim　ushered　us　quickly　from　the　truck　into　a　one…story　house　at　the　intersection　of　two　dirt　roads　lined　with　flat　one…story　homes；　acacia　trees；　and　closed　shops。　I　pulled　the
collar　of　my　coat　against　the　chill　as　we　hurried　into　the　house；　dragging　our　belongings。　For　some　reason；　I　remember　smelling　radishes。
Once　he　had　us　inside　the　dimly　lit；　bare　living　room；　Karim　locked　the　front　door；　pulled　the　tattered　sheets　that　passed　for　curtains。　Then　he　took　a　deep　breath　and　gave　us　the　bad　news：
His　brother　Toor　couldn　t　take　us　to　Peshawar。　It　seemed　his　truck　s　engine　had　blown　the　week　before　and　Toor　was　still　waiting　for　parts。
　Last　week？　　someone　exclaimed。　　If　you　knew　this；　why　did　you　bring　us　here？　
I　caught　a　flurry　of　movement　out　of　the　corner　of　my　eye。　Then　a　blur　of　something　zipping　across　the　room；　and　the　next　thing　I　saw　was　Karim　slammed　against　the　wall；　his　sandaled　feet　dangling　two　feet　above　the　floor。　Wrapped　around　his　neck　were　Baba　s　hands。
　I　ll　tell　you　why；　　Baba　snapped。　　Because　he　got　paid　for　his　leg　of　the　trip。　That　s　all　he　cared　about。　　Karim　was　making　guttural　choking　sounds。　Spittle　dripped　from　the　corner　of　his　mouth。
　Put　him　down；　Agha；　you　re　killing　him；　　one　of　the　passengers　said。
　It　s　what　I　intend　to　do；　　Baba　said。　What　none　of　the　others　in　the　room　knew　was　that　Baba　wasn　t　joking。　Karim　was　turning　red　and　kicking　his　legs。　Baba　kept　choking　him　until　the　young　mother；　the　one　the　Russian　officer　had　fancied；　begged　him　to　stop。
Karim　collapsed　on　the　floor　and　rolled　around　fighting　for　air　when　Baba　finally　let　go。　The　room　fell　silent。　Less　than　two　hours　ago；　Baba　had　volunteered　to　take　a　bullet　for　the　honor　of　a　woman　he　didn　t　even　know。　Now　he　d　almost　choked　a　man　to　death；　would　have　done　it　cheerfully　if　not　for　the　pleas　of　that　same　woman。
Something　thumped　next　door。　No；　not　next　door；　below。
　What　s　that？　　someone　asked。
　The　others；　　Karim　panted　between　labored　breaths。　　In　the　basement。　
　How　long　have　they　been　waiting？　　Baba　said；　standing　over　Karim。
　Two　weeks。　
　I　thought　you　said　the　truck　broke　down　last　week。　
Karim　rubbed　his　throat。　　It　might　have　been　the　week　before；　　he　croaked。
　How　long？　
　What？　
　How　long　for　the　parts？　　Baba　roared。　Karim　flinched　but　said　nothing。　I　was　glad　for　the　darkness。　I　didn　t　want　to　see　the　murderous　look　on　Baba　s　face。
THE　STENCH　OF　SOMETHING　DANK；　like　mildew；　bludgeoned　my　nostrils　the　moment　Karim　opened　the　door　that　led　down　the　creaky　steps　to　the　basement。　We　descended　in　single　file。　The　steps　groaned　under　Baba　s　weight。　Standing　in　the　cold　basement；　I　felt　watched　by　eyes　blinking　in　the　dark。　I　saw　shapes　huddled　around　the　room；　their　silhouettes　thrown　on　the　walls　by　the　dim　light　of　a　pair　of　kerosene　lamps。　A　low　murmur　buzzed　through　the　basement；　beneath　it　the　sound　of　water　drops　trickling　somewhere；　and；　something　else；　a　scratching　sound。
Baba　sighed　behind　me　and　dropped　t