12歲的阿富汗富家少爺阿米爾與仆人哈桑情同手足。然而,在一場風(fēng)箏比賽后,發(fā)生了一件悲慘不堪的事,阿米爾為自己的懦弱感到自責(zé)和痛苦,逼走了哈桑,不久,自己也跟隨父親逃往美國。
成年后的阿米爾始終無法原諒自己當(dāng)年對哈桑的背叛。為了贖罪,阿米爾再度踏上暌違二十多年的故鄉(xiāng),希望能為不幸的好友盡最后一點心力,卻發(fā)現(xiàn)一個驚天謊言,兒時的噩夢再度重演,阿米爾該如何抉擇?
故事如此殘忍而又美麗,作者以溫暖細(xì)膩的筆法勾勒人性的本質(zhì)與救贖,讀來令人蕩氣回腸。
下面就跟小編一起來欣賞雙語名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(176)的精彩內(nèi)容吧!
“PUT IT DOWN!”
“PUT IT DOWN!”
Assef let go of my throat. Lunged at Sohrab.The slingshot made a thwiiiiit sound when Sohrab released the cup. Then Assef was screaming. He put his hand where his left eye had been just a moment ago. Blood oozed between his fingers. Blood and something else, something white and gel-like. That’s called vitreous fluid, I thought with clarity. I’ve read that somewhere. Vitreous fluid.
Assef rolled on the carpet. Rolled side to side, shrieking, his hand still cupped over the bloody socket.
“Let’s go!” Sohrab said. He took my hand. Helped me to my feet. Every inch of my battered body wailed with pain.
Behind us, Assef kept shrieking.
“OUT! GET IT OUT!” he screamed.Teetering, I opened the door. The guards’ eyes widened when they saw me and I wondered what I looked like. My stomach hurt with each breath. One of the guards said something in Pashtu and then they blew past us, running into the room where Assef was still screaming. “OUT!”
“Bia,” Sohrab said, pulling my hand. “Let’s go!”I stumbled down the hallway, Sohrab’s little hand in mine. I took a final look over my shoulder. The guards were huddled over Assef, doing something to his face. Then I understood: The brass ball was still stuck in his empty eye socket.
The whole world rocking up and down, swooping side to side, I hobbled down the steps, leaning on Sohrab. From above, Assef’s screams went on and on, the cries of a wounded animal. We made it outside, into daylight, my arm around Sohrab’s shoulder, and I saw Farid running toward us.
“Bismillah! Bismillah!” he said, eyes bulging at the sight of me. He slung my arm around his shoulder and lifted me. Carried me to the truck, running. I think I screamed. I watched the way his sandals pounded the pavement, slapped his black, calloused heels. It hurt to breathe. Then I was looking up at the roof of the Land Cruiser, in the backseat, the upholstery beige and ripped, listen ing to the ding-ding-ding signaling an open door. Running foot steps around the truck. Farid and Sohrab exchanging quick words. The truck’s doors slammed shut and the engine roared to life. The car jerked forward and I felt a tiny hand on my forehead. I heard voices on the street, some shouting, and saw trees blurring past in the window Sohrab was sobbing. Farid was still repeating, “Bis millah! Bismillak!”It was about then that I passed out.
“把它放下!”
“別打了?!?br />“把它放下!”阿塞夫放開我的喉嚨,朝索拉博撲去。索拉博松開弓杯,彈弓發(fā)出嘶嘶的聲音。接著阿塞夫慘叫起來,用手掩著片刻之前還是左眼所在的地方。血滲出他的指縫。血,還有其他東西,像嗜喱水一樣的白色的東西。那叫玻璃狀液,我清楚地想起來。我在某個地方讀到過,玻璃狀液。
阿塞夫在地毯上打滾,翻來覆去,不斷慘叫,雙手仍掩著血淋淋的眼眶。
“我們走!”索拉博說,他拉起我的手,把我扶起來。我被痛擊過的身體每一寸都在發(fā)痛。
阿塞夫在我們后面叫著。
“出去!滾出去!”他高聲尖叫。我跌跌撞撞打開門。衛(wèi)兵看到我的時候,眼睛睜得大大的,我在想自己像什么樣子,每次呼吸都帶來胃痛。有個衛(wèi)兵用普什圖語說了幾句,接著飛也似的跑過我們,奔進(jìn)房間。阿塞夫仍在里面不停喊著“出去!”。
“快走,”索拉博說,拉著我的手,“我們走?!蔽依骼┑男∈?,掙扎著走下門廳。我回頭看了最后一眼,衛(wèi)兵在阿塞夫身邊亂成一團(tuán),朝他臉上做著什么。我恍然大悟:銅球還嵌在他空洞的眼眶里。
我覺得天旋地轉(zhuǎn),倚著索拉博,蹣跚走下樓梯。樓上傳來阿塞夫聲聲慘叫,如同受傷野獸的哀嚎。我們走出來了,走進(jìn)陽光中,我的手臂壓在索拉博肩膀上,然后我看見法里德朝我們跑來。
“奉安拉之名!奉安拉之名!”他說,眼睛大大地瞪著我。他將我的手臂摔在肩膀,背起我,朝卡車飛奔而去。我想我尖叫了。我看見他的拖鞋嘭嘭蹬著地面,甩打著他粗黑的后腳跟。呼吸很痛。然后我看到了陸地巡洋艦的車頂,被放進(jìn)后座,看到發(fā)皺的米色坐墊,聽見車門打開的叮叮叮聲音。一陣跑步聲繞過車身,法里德和索拉博匆匆談了幾句,車門用力關(guān)上,引擎發(fā)動。車子猛然前沖,我感到額頭上有只小手。我聽見街道上的聲音,幾聲呼喝,看見窗外的模糊的樹朝后退去。索拉博在哭泣,法里德仍不停重復(fù)著:“奉安拉之名!奉安拉之名!”大約在那時,我昏了過去。