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the kite runner-第105部分

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hing; I try to remember what she said about the apples。 
 Sour apples;  I said。  _Mashallah_; you re just about the smartest little guy I ve ever met; Sohrab jan。  His ears reddened with a blush。
 Will you take me to that red bridge? The one with the fog?  he said。
 Absolutely;  I said。  Absolutely。 
 And we ll drive up those streets; the ones where all you see is the hood of the car and the sky? 
 Every single one of them;  I said。 My eyes stung with tears and I blinked them away。
 Is English hard to learn? 
 I say; within a year; you ll speak it as well as Farsi。 
 Really? 
 Yes。  I placed a finger under his chin; turned his face up to mine。  There is one other thing; Sohrab。 
 What? 
 Well; Mr。 Faisal thinks that it would really help if we could。。。 if we could ask you to stay in a home for kids for a while。 
 Home for kids?  he said; his smile fading。  You mean an orphanage? 
 It would only be for a little while。 
 No;  he said。  No; please。 
 Sohrab; it would be for just a little while。 I promise。 
 You promised you d never put me in one of those places; Amir agha;  he said。 His voice was breaking; tears pooling in his eyes。 I felt like a prick。
 This is different。 It would be here; in Islamabad; not in Kabul。 And I d visit you all the time until we can get you out and take you to America。 
 Please! Please; no!  he croaked。  I m scared of that place。 They ll hurt me! I don t want to go。 
 No one is going to hurt you。 Not ever again。 
 Yes they will! They always say they won t but they lie。 They lie! Please; God! 
I wiped the tear streaking down his cheek with my thumb。  Sour apples; remember? It s just like the sour apples;  I said softly。
 No it s not。 Not that place。 God; oh God。 Please; no!  He was trembling; snot and tears mixing on his face。
 Shhh。  I pulled him close; wrapped my arms around his shaking little body。  Shhh。 It ll be all right。 We ll go home together。 You ll see; it ll be all right。 
His voice was muffled against my chest; but I heard the panic in it。  Please promise you won t! Oh God; Amir agha! Please promise you won t! 
How could I promise? I held him against me; held him tightly; and rocked badk and forth。 He wept into my shirt until his tears dried; until his shaking stopped and his frantic pleas dwindled to indecipherable mumbles。 I waited; rocked him until his breathing slowed and his body slackened。 I remembered something I had read somewhere a long time ago: That s how children deal with terror。 They fall asleep。
I carried him to his bed; set him down。 Then I lay in my own bed; looking out the window at the purple sky over Islamabad。
THE SKY WAS A DEEP BLACK when the phone jolted me from sleep。 I rubbed my eyes and turned on the bedside lamp。 It was a little past 10:30 P。M。; I d been sleeping for almost three hours。 I picked up the phone。  Hello? 
 Call from America。  Mr。 Fayyaz s bored voice。
 Thank you;  I said。 The bathroom light was on; Sohrab was taking his nightly bath。 A couple of clicks and then Soraya:
 Salaam!  She sounded excited。
 How did the meeting go with the lawyer? 
I told her what Omar Faisal had suggested。  Well; you can forget about it;  she said。  We won t have to do that。 
I sat up。  Rawsti? Why; what s up? 
 I heard back from Kaka Sharif。 He said the key was getting Sohrab into the country。 Once he s in; there are ways of keeping him here。 So he made a few calls to his INS friends。 He called me back tonight and said he was almost certain he could get Sohrab a humanitarian visa。 
 No kidding?  I said。  Oh thank God! Good ol  Sharifjan! 
 I know。 Anyway; we ll serve as the sponsors。 It should all happen pretty quickly。 He said the visa would be good for a year; plenty of time to apply for an adoption petition。 
 It s really going to happen; Soraya; huh? 
 It looks like it;  she said。 She sounded happy。 I told her I loved her and she said she loved me back。 I hung up。
 Sohrab!  I called; rising from my bed。  I have great news。  I knocked on the bathroom door。  Sohrab! Soraya jan just called from California。 We won t have to put you in the orphanage; Sohrab。 We re going to America; you and I。 Did you hear me? We re going to America! 
I pushed the door open。 Stepped into the bathroom。
Suddenly I was on my knees; screaming。 Screaming through my clenched teeth。 Screaming until I thought my throat would rip and my chest explode。
Later; they said I was still screaming when the ambulance arrived。
TWENTY…FIVE
They won t let me in。
I see them wheel him through a set of double doors and I follow。 I burst through the doors; the smell of iodine and peroxide hits me; but all I have time to see is two men wearing surgical caps and a woman in green huddling over a gurney。 A white sheet spills over the side of the gurney and brushes against grimy checkered tiles。 A pair of small; bloody feet poke out from under the sheet and I see that the big toenail on the left foot is chipped。 Then a tall; thickset man in blue presses his palm against my chest and he s pushing me back out through the doors; his wedding band cold on my skin。 I shove forward and I curse him; but he says you cannot be here; he
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