雙語名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(185)

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。

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IN THE MIDDLE DRAWER of the dresser beside my bed, I had found an old _National Geographic_ magazine, a chewed-up pencil, a comb with missing teeth, and what I was reaching for now, sweat pouring down my face from the effort: a deck of cards. I had counted them earlier and, surprisingly, found the deck complete. I asked Sohrab if he wanted to play. I didn’t expect him to answer, let alone play. He’d been quiet since we had fled Kabul.But he turned from the window and said, “The only game I know is panjpar.”“I feel sorry for you already, because I am a grand master at panjpar. World renowned.”He took his seat on the stool next to me. I dealt him his five cards. “When your father and I were your age, we used to play this game. Especially in the winter, when it snowed and we couldn’t go outside. We used to play until the sun went down.”
He played me a card and picked one up from the pile. I stole looks at him as he pondered his cards. He was his father in so many ways: the way he fanned out his cards with both hands, the way he squinted while reading them, the way he rarely looked a person in the eye.We played in silence. I won the first game, let him win the next one, and lost the next five fair and square. “You’re as good as your father, maybe even better,” I said, after my last loss. “I used to beat him sometimes, but I think he let me win.” I paused before saying, “Your father and I were nursed by the same woman.”
“I know.”
“What... what did he tell you about us?”
“That you were the best friend he ever had,” he said.I twirled the jack of diamonds in my fingers, flipped it back and forth. “I wasn’t such a good friend, I’m afraid,” I said. “But I’d like to be your friend. I think I could be a good friend to you. Would that be all right? Would you like that?” I put my hand on his arm, gingerly, but he flinched. He dropped his cards and pushed away on the stool. He walked back to the window. The sky was awash with streaks of red and purple as the sun set on Peshawar. From the street below came a succession of honks and the braying of a donkey, the whistle of a policeman. Sohrab stood in that crimson light, forehead pressed to the glass, fists buried in his armpits.AISHA HAD A MALE ASSISTANT help me take my first steps that night. I only walked around the room once, one hand clutching the wheeled IV stand, the other clasping the assistant’s fore arm. It took me ten minutes to make it back to bed, and, by then, the incision on my stomach throbbed and I’d broken out in a drenching sweat. I lay in bed, gasping, my heart hammering in my ears, thinking how much I missed my wife.Sohrab and I played panjpar most of the next day, again in silence. And the day after that. We hardly spoke, just played panjpar, me propped in bed, he on the three-legged stool, our routine broken only by my taking a walk around the room, or going to the bathroom down the hall. I had a dream later that night. I dreamed Assef was standing in the doorway of my hospital room, brass ball still in his eye socket. “We’re the same, you and I,” he was saying. “You nursed with him, but you’re my twin.”
I TOLD ARMAND early that next day that I was leaving.
“It’s still early for discharge,” Armand protested. He wasn’t dressed in surgical scrubs that day, instead in a button-down navy blue suit and yellow tie. The gel was back in the hair. “You are still in intravenous antibiotics and--”
“I have to go,” I said. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, all of you. Really. But I have to leave.”
“Where will you go?” Armand said.
“I’d rather not say.”

在我床頭柜子中間的抽屜里面，我找到一本舊《國家地理》雜志，一枝用過的鉛筆，一把缺了些梳齒的梳子，還有我汗流滿面努力伸手去拿的：一副撲克牌。早些時候我數(shù)過，出乎意料的是，那副牌竟然是完整的。我問索拉博想不想玩。我沒指望他會回答，更別說玩牌了。自我們離開喀布爾之后，他一直很安靜。但他從窗口轉(zhuǎn)身說：“我只會玩‘番吉帕’?！薄罢嫣婺愀械竭z憾，因為我是玩番吉帕的高手，全世界都知道。”他在我旁邊的凳子上坐下，我給他發(fā)了五張牌?！爱?dāng)你爸爸和我像你這么大的時候，我們經(jīng)常一起玩這游戲。特別是在冬季，天下雪、我們不能出去的時候，我們常常玩到太陽下山。”
他出了一張牌，從牌堆抽起一張。他望著牌思考的時候，我偷偷看著他。他很多地方都像他父親：將牌在手里展成扇形的樣子，瞇眼看牌的樣子，還有他很少看別人眼睛的樣子。我們默默玩著。第一盤我贏了，讓他贏了第二盤，接下來五局沒使詐，但都輸了。“你打得跟你父親一樣好，也許還要好一些?！蔽逸斄俗詈笠痪种笳f，“我過去經(jīng)常贏他，不過我覺得那是他讓我的?！蔽翌D了頓，又說：“你父親和我是吃同一個女人的奶長大的?！?br />“我知道?！?br />“他……他跟你怎么說起我們？”
“他說你是他一生最好的朋友。”他說。我捏著方塊杰克上下?lián)u動?！翱峙挛覜]他想的那么好?！蔽艺f，“不過我想跟你交朋友。我想我可以成為你的好朋友。好不好？你愿意嗎？”我輕輕將手放在他手臂上，但他身子后縮。他將牌放下，從凳子上站起來，走回窗邊。太陽在白沙瓦落下，天空鋪滿了紅色和紫色的云霞。下面的街道傳來陣陣?yán)嚷?，驢子的叫聲，警察的哨聲。索拉博站在紅色的斜暉中，額頭靠著玻璃，把手埋在腋下。那天晚上，在艾莎和一名男性護(hù)理的幫助下，我跨了第一步。我一只手抓住裝著滑輪的輸液架，另一只手扶在助理的前臂上，繞了房間一圈。十分鐘后，我回到床邊，體內(nèi)肺腑翻涌，也冒出渾身大汗。我躺在床上，喘息著，耳邊聽到心臟怦怦跳，心里十分想念我的妻子。隔日，索拉博和我仍是默默無語，幾乎整天都在玩“番吉帕”。又那樣度過一天。我們只是玩著“番吉帕”，幾乎沒有說過話，我斜倚在床上，他坐在三腳凳上。除了我在房間里走動，或者到走廊盡頭的衛(wèi)生間去，我們一直都在打牌。那天深夜我做了個夢。我夢見阿塞夫站在病房的門口，眼眶仍嵌著銅球?！拔覀兪峭环N人，你和我?！彼f，“你跟他一個奶媽，但你是我的孿生兄弟?！?br />第二天早晨，我告訴阿曼德我想離開。
“現(xiàn)在出院太早了?！卑⒙驴棺h說。那天他穿著的并非手術(shù)袍，而是一套海軍藍(lán)西裝，系著黃色領(lǐng)帶，頭發(fā)又涂著睹喱水。“你還在靜脈注射抗生素期間，還有……”
“我非走不可。”我說，“謝謝你，謝謝你們?yōu)槲宜龅囊磺?。真的。但我必須離開?！?br />“你要去哪里？”阿曼德說。
“我不能說?！?