the kite runner- 第156部分

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　by　his　bed　until　he　fell　asleep。　Something　was　lost　between　Sohrab　and　me。　Until　my　meeting　with　the　lawyer；　Omar　Faisal；　a　light　of　hope　had　begun　to　enter　Sohrab　s　eyes　like　a　timid　guest。　Now　the　light　was　gone；　the　guest　had　fled；　and　I　wondered　when　it　would　dare　return。　I　wondered　how　long　before　Sohrab　smiled　again。　How　long　before　he　trusted　me。　If　ever。
So　I　left　the　room　and　went　looking　for　another　hotel；　unaware　that　almost　a　year　would　pass　before　I　would　hear　Sohrab　speak　another　word。
IN　THE　END；　Sohrab　never　accepted　my　offer。　Nor　did　he　decline　it。　But　he　knew　that　when　the　bandages　were　removed　and　the　hospital　garments　returned；　he　was　just　another　homeless　Hazara　orphan。　What　choice　did　he　have？　Where　could　he　go？　So　what　I　took　as　a　yes　from　him　was　in　actuality　more　of　a　quiet　surrender；　not　so　much　an　acceptance　as　an　act　of　relinquishment　by　one　too　weary　to　decide；　and　far　too　tired　to　believe。　What　he　yearned　for　was　his　old　life。　What　he　got　was　me　and　America。　Not　that　it　was　such　a　bad　fate；　everything　considered；　but　I　couldn　t　tell　him　that。　Perspective　was　a　luxury　when　your　head　was　constantly　buzzing　with　a　swarm　of　demons。
And　so　it　was　that；　about　a　week　later；　we　crossed　a　strip　of　warm；　black　tarmac　and　I　brought　Hassan　s　son　from　Afghanistan　to　America；　lifting　him　from　the　certainty　of　turmoil　and　dropping　him　in　a　turmoil　of　uncertainty。
ONE　DAY；　maybe　around　1983　or　1984；　I　was　at　a　video　store　in　Fremont。　I　was　standing　in　the　Westerns　section　when　a　guy　next　to　me；