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the kite runner-第14部分

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 they too saw what had happened behind me。
I turned and came face to face with Hassan s slingshot。 Hassan had pulled the wide elastic band all the way back。 In the cup was a rock the size of a walnut。 Hassan held the slingshot pointed directly at Assef s face。 His hand trembled with the strain of the pulled elastic band and beads of sweat had erupted on his brow。
 Please leave us alone; Agha;  Hassan said in a flat tone。 He d referred to Assef as  Agha;  and I wondered briefly what it must be like to live with such an ingrained sense of one s place in a hierarchy。
Assef gritted his teeth。  Put it down; you motherless Hazara。 
 Please leave us be; Agha;  Hassan said。
Assef smiled。  Maybe you didn t notice; but there are three of us and two of you。 
Hassan shrugged。 To an outsider; he didn t look scared。 But Hassan s face was my earliest memory and I knew all of its subtle nuances; knew each and every twitch and flicker that ever rippled across it。 And I saw that he was scared。 He was scared plenty。
 You are right; Agha。 But perhaps you didn t notice that I m the one holding the slingshot。 If you make a move; they ll have to change your nickname from Assef  the Ear Eater  to  One…Eyed Assef;  because I have this rock pointed at your left eye。  He said this so flatly that even I had to strain to hear the fear that I knew hid under that calm voice。
Assef s mouth twitched。 Wali and Kamal watched this exchange with something akin to fascination。 Someone had challenged their god。 Humiliated him。 And; worst of all; that someone was a skinny Hazara。 Assef looked from the rock to Hassan。 He searched Hassan s face intently。 What he found in it must have convinced him of the seriousness of Hassan s intentions; because he lowered his fist。
 You should know something about me; Hazara;  Assef said gravely。  I m a very patient person。 This doesn t end today; believe me。  He turned to me。  This isn t the end for you either; Amir。 Someday; I ll make you face me one on one。  Assef retreated a step。 His disciples followed。
 Your Hazara made a big mistake today; Amir;  he said。 They then turned around; walked away。 I watched them walk down the hill and disappear behind a wall。
Hassan was trying to tuck the slingshot in his waist with a pair of trembling hands。 His mouth curled up into something that was supposed to be a reassuring smile。 It took him five tries to tie the string of his trousers。 Neither one of us said much of anything as we walked home in trepidation; certain that Assef and his friends would ambush us every time we turned a corner。 They didn t and that should have forted us a little。 But it didn t。 Not at all。
FOR THE NEXT COUPLE of years; the words _economic development_ and _reform_ danced on a lot of lips in Kabul。 The constitutional monarchy had been abolished; replaced by a republic; led by a president of the republic。 For a
while; a sense of rejuvenation and purpose swept across the land。 People spoke of women s rights and modern technology。
And for the most part; even though a new leader lived in _Arg_……the royal palace in Kabul……life went on as before。 People went to work Saturday through Thursday and gathered for picnics on Fridays in parks; on the banks of Ghargha Lake; in the gardens of Paghman。 Multicolored buses and lorries filled with passengers rolled through the narrow streets of Kabul; led by the constant shouts of the driver assistants who straddled the vehicles  rear bumpers and yelped directions to the driver in their thick Kabuli accent。 On _Eid_; the three days of celebration after the holy month
of Ramadan; Kabulis dressed in their best and newest clothes and visited their families。 People hugged and kissed and greeted each other with  _Eid Mubarak_。  Happy Eid。 Children opened gifts and played with dyed hard…boiled eggs。
Early that following winter of 1974; Hassan and I were playing in the yard one day; building a snow fort; when Ali called him in。  Hassan; Agha sahib wants to talk to you!  He was standing by the front door; dressed in white; hands tucked under his armpits; breath puffing from his mouth。
Hassan and I exchanged a smile。 We d been waiting for his call all day: It was Hassan s birthday。  What is it; Father; do you know? Will you tell us?  Hassan said。 His eyes were gleaming。
Ali shrugged。  Agha sahib hasn t discussed it with me。 
 e on; Ali; tell us;  I pressed。  Is it a drawing book? Maybe a new pistol? 
Like Hassan; Ali was incapable of lying。 Every year; he pretended not to know what Baba had bought Hassan or me for our birthdays。 And every year; his eyes betrayed him and we coaxed the goods out of him。 This time; though; it seemed he was telling the truth。
Baba never missed Hassan s birthday。 For a while; he used to ask Hassan what he wanted; but he gave up doing that because Hassan was always too modest to actually suggest a present。 So every winter Baba picked something out himself。 He bought him a Japanese toy truck one year; an electric lootive and train track set another year。 The previous year; Baba had surprised Hassan with a leather cowboy hat just like the one Clint Eastwood wore in _The Good; the Bad; and t
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