the kite runner-第99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！


ng。　Gain　your　quwat　back；　your　strength。　Do　you　want　me　to　help　you？　
He　held　my　glance；　then　looked　away；　his　face　set　like　stone。　His　eyes　were　still　lightless；　I　saw；　vacant；　the　way　I　had　found　them　when　I　had　pulled　him　out　of　the　bathtub。　I　reached　into　the　paper　bag　between　my　feet　and　took　out　the　used　copy　of　the　Shah　namah　I　had　bought　at　the　Persian　bookstore。　I　turned　the　cover　so　it　faced　Sohrab。　　I　used　to　read　this　to　your　father　when　we　were　children。　We　d　go　up　the　hill　by　our　house　and　sit　beneath　the　pomegranate。。。　　I　trailed　off。　Sohrab　was　looking　through　the　window　again。　I　forced　a　smile。　　Your　father　s　favorite　was　the　story　of　Rostam　and　Sohrab　and　that　s　how　you　got　your　name；　I　know　you　know　that。　　I　paused；　feeling　a　bit　like　an　idiot。　　Any　way；　he　said　in　his　letter　that　it　was　your　favorite　too；　so　I　thought　I　d　read　you　some　of　it。　Would　you　like　that？　
Sohrab　closed　his　eyes。　Covered　them　with　his　arm；　the　one　with　the　bruise。
I　flipped　to　the　page　I　had　bent　in　the　taxicab。　　Here　we　go；　　I　said；　wondering　for　the　first　time　what　thoughts　had　passed　through　Hassan　s　head　when　he　had　finally　read　the　_Shahnamah_　for　himself　and　discovered　that　I　had　deceived　him　all　those　times。　I　cleared　my　throat　and　read。　　Give　ear　unto　the　bat　of　Sohrab　against　Rostam；　though　it　be　a　tale　replete　with　tears；　　I　began。　　It　came　about　that　on　a　certain　day　Rostam　rose　from　his　couch　and　his　mind　was　filled　with　forebodings。　He　bethought　him。。。　　I　read　him　most　of　chapter　1；　up　to　the　part　where　the　young　warrior　Sohrab　es　to　his　mother；　Tahmineh；　the　princess　of　Samen　gan；　and　demands　to　know　the　identity　of　his　father。　I　closed
the　book。　　Do　you　want　me　to　go　on？　There　are　battles　ing　up；　remember？　Sohrab　leading　his　army　to　the　White　Castle　in　Iran？　Should　I　read　on？　
He　shook　his　head　slowly。　I　dropped　the　book　back　in　the　paper　bag。　　That　s　fine；　　I　said；　encouraged　that　he　had　responded　at　all。　　Maybe　we　can　continue　tomorrow。　How　do　you　feel？　
Sohrab　s　mouth　opened　and　a　hoarse　sound　came　out。　Dr。　Nawaz　had　told　me　that　would　happen；　on　account　of　the　breathing　tube　they　had　slid　through　his　vocal　cords。　He　licked　his　lips　and　tried　again。　　Tired。　
　I　know。　Dr。　Nawaz　said　that　was　to　be　expected……　　He　was　shaking　his　head。
　What；　Sohrab？　
He　winced　when　he　spoke　again　in　that　husky　voice；　barely　above　a　whisper。　　Tired　of　everything。　
I　sighed　and　slumped　in　my　chair。　There　was　a　band　of　sunlight　on　the　bed　between　us；　and；　for　just　a　moment；　the　ashen　gray　face　looking　at　me　from　the　other　side　of　it　was　a　dead　ringer　for　Hassan　s；　not　the　Hassan　I　played　marbles　with　until　the　mullah　belted　out　the　evening　azan　and　Ali　called　us　home；　not　the　Hassan　I　chased　down　our　hill　as　the　sun　dipped　behind　clay　rooftops　in　the　west；　but　the　Hassan　I　saw　alive　for　the　last　time；　dragging　his　belongings　behind　Ali　in　a　warm　summer　downpour；　stuffing　them　in　the　trunk　of　Baba　s　car　while　I　watched　through　the　rain…soaked　window　of　my　room。
He　gave　a　slow　shake　of　his　head。　　Tired　of　everything；　　he　repeated。
　What　can　I　do；　Sohrab？　Please　tell　me。　
　I　want……　　he　began。　He　winced　again　and　brought　his　hand　to　his　throat　as　if　to　clear　whatever　was　blocking　his　voice。　My　eyes　were　drawn　again　to　his　wrist　wrapped　tightly　with　white　gauze　bandages。　　I　want　my　old　life　back；　　he　breathed。
　Oh；　Sohrab。　
　I　want　Father　and　Mother　jan。　I　want　Sasa。　I　want　to　play　with　Rahim　Khan　sahib　in　the　garden。　I　want　to　live　in　our　house　again。　　He　dragged　his　forearm　across　his　eyes。　　I　want　my　old　life　back。　
I　didn　t　know　what　to　say；　where　to　look；　so　I　gazed　down　at　my　hands。　Your　old　life；　I　thought。　My　old　life　too。　I　played　in　the　same　yard；　Sohrab。　I　lived　in　the　same　house。　But　the　grass　is　dead　and　a　stranger　s　jeep　is　parked　in　the　driveway　of　our　house；　pissing　oil　all　over　the　asphalt。　Our　old　life　is　gone；　Sohrab；　and　everyone　in　it　is　either　dead　or　dying。　It　s　just　you　and　me　now。　Just　you　and　me。
　I　can　t　give　you　that；　　I　said。　　I　wish　you　hadn　t……　
　Please　don　t　say　that。　
　……wish　you　hadn　t。。。　I　wish　you　had　left　me　in　the　water。　
　Don　t　ever　say　that；　Sohrab；　　I　said；　leaning　forward。　　I　can　t　bear　to　hear　you　talk　like　that。　　I　touched　his　shoulder　and　he　flinched。　Drew　away。　I
dropped　my　hand；　remembering　ruefully　how　in　the　last　days　before　I　d　broken　my　promise　to　him　he　had　finally　bee　at　ease　with　my　touch。　　Sohrab；　I　can　t　give　you　your　old　life　back；　I　wish　to　God　I　could。　But　I　can　take　you　with　me。　That　was　what　I　was　ing　in　the　bathroom　to　tell　you。　You　have　a　visa　to　go　to　America；　to　live　with　me　and　my　wife。　It　s　true。　I　promise。　
He　sighed　through　his　nose　and　closed　his　eyes。　I　wished　I　hadn　t　said　those　last　two　words。　　You　know；　I　ve　done　a　lot　of　things　I　regret　in　my　life；　　I　said；　　and　maybe　none　more　than　going　back　on　the　promise　I　made　you。　But　that　will　never　happen　again；　and　I　am　so　very　profoundly　sorry。　I　ask　for　your　bakhshesh；　your　forgiveness。　Can　you　do　that？　Can　you　forgive　me？　Can　you　believe　me？　　I　dropped　my　voice。　　Will　you　e　with　me？　
As　I　waited　for　his　reply；　my　mind　flashed　back　to　a　winter　day　from　long　ago；　Hassan　and　I　sitting　on　the　snow　beneath　a　leafless　sour　cherry　tree。　I　had　played　a　cruel　game　with　Hassan　that　day；　toyed　with　him；　asked　him　if　he　would　chew　dirt　to　prove　his　loyalty　to　me。　Now　I　was　the　one　under　the　microscope；　the　one　who　had　to　prove　my　worthiness。　I　deserved　this。
Sohrab　rolled　to　his　side；　his　back　to　me。　He　didn　t　say　anything　for　a　long　time。　And　then；　just　as　I　thought　he　might　have　drifted　to　sleep；　he　said　with　a　croak；　　I　am　so　khasta。　　So　very　tired。　I　sat　b