the kite runner-第59部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


ing　in　March　1991。　Khala　Jamila　had　watered　the　roses　and　her　new　honeysuckles；　and　their　fragrance　mixed　with　the　smell　of　cooking　fish。　Twice　already；　she　had　reached　across　her　chair　to　caress　Soraya　s　hair　and　say；　　God　knows　best；　bachem。　Maybe　it　wasn　t　meant　to　be。　
Soraya　kept　looking　down　at　her　hands。　She　was　tired；　I　knew；　tired　of　it　all。　　The　doctor　said　we　could　adopt；　　she　murmured。
General　Taheri　s　head　snapped　up　at　this。　He　closed　the　barbecue　lid。　　He　did？　
　He　said　it　was　an　option；　　Soraya　said。
We　d　talked　at　home　about　adoption。　Soraya　was　ambivalent　at　best。　　I　know　it　s　silly　and　maybe　vain；　　she　said　to　me　on　the　way　to　her　parents　　house；　　but　I　can　t　help　it。　I　ve　always　dreamed　that　I　d　hold　it　in　my　arms　and　know　my　blood　had　fed　it　for　nine　months；　that　I　d　look　in　its　eyes　one　day　and　be　startled　to　see　you　or　me；　that　the　baby　would　grow　up　and　have　your　smile　or　mine。　Without　that。。。　Is　that　wrong？　
　No；　　I　had　said。
　Am　I　being　selfish？　
　No；　Soraya。　
　Because　if　you　really　want　to　do　it。。。　
　No；　　I　said。　　If　we　re　going　to　do　it；　we　shouldn　t　have　any　doubts　at　all　about　it；　and　we　should　both　be　in　agreement。　It　wouldn　t　be　fair　to　the　baby　otherwise。　
She　rested　her　head　on　the　window　and　said　nothing　else　the　rest　of　the　way。
Now　the　general　sat　beside　her。　　Bachem；　this　adoption。。。　thing；　I　m　not　so　sure　it　s　for　us　Afghans。　　Soraya　looked　at　me　tiredly　and　sighed。
　For　one　thing；　they　grow　up　and　want　to　know　who　their　natural　parents　are；　　he　said。　　Nor　can　you　blame　them。　Sometimes；　they　leave　the　home　in　which　you　labored　for　years　to　provide　for　them　so　they　can　find　the　people　who　gave　them　life。　Blood　is　a　powerful　thing；　bachem；　never　forget　that。　
　I　don　t　want　to　talk　about　this　anymore；　　Soraya　said。
　I　ll　say　one　more　thing；　　he　said。　I　could　tell　he　was　getting　revved　up；　we　were　about　to　get　one　of　the　general　s　little　speeches。　　Take　Amir　jan；　here。　We　all　knew　his　father；　I　know　who　his　grandfather　was　in　Kabul　and　his　great…grandfather　before　him；　I　could　sit　here　and　trace　generations　of　his　ancestors　for　you　if　you　asked。　That　s　why　when　his　father……God　give　him　peace……came　khastegari；　I　didn　t　hesitate。　And　believe　me；　his　father　wouldn　t　have　agreed　to　ask　for　your　hand　if　he　didn　t　know　whose　descendant　you　were。　Blood　is　a　powerful　thing；　bachem；　and　when　you　adopt；　you　don　t　know　whose　blood　you　re　bringing　into　your　house。
　Now；　if　you　were　American；　it　wouldn　t　matter。　People　here　marry　for　love；　family　name　and　ancestry　never　even　e　into　the　equation。　They　adopt　that　way　too；　as　long　as　the　baby　is　healthy；　everyone　is　happy。　But　we　are　Afghans；　bachem。　
　Is　the　fish　almost　ready？　　Soraya　said。　General　Taheri　s　eyes　lingered　on　her。　He　patted　her　knee。　　Just　be　happy　you　have　your　health　and　a　good　husband。　
　What　do　you　think；　Amir　jan？　　Khala　Jamila　said。
I　put　my　glass　on　the　ledge；　where　a　row　of　her　potted　geraniums　were　dripping　water。　　I　think　I　agree　with　General　Sahib。　
Reassured；　the　general　nodded　and　went　back　to　the　grill。
We　all　had　our　reasons　for　not　adopting。　Soraya　had　hers；　the　general　his；　and　I　had　this：　that　perhaps　something；　someone；　somewhere；　had　decided　to　deny　me　fatherhood　for　the　things　I　had　done。　Maybe　this　was　my　punishment；　and　perhaps　justly　so。　It　wasn　t　meant　to　be；　Khala　Jamila　had　said。　Or；　maybe；　it　was　meant　not　to　be。
A　FEW　MONTHS　LATER；　we　used　the　advance　for　my　second　novel　and　placed　a　down　payment　on　a　pretty；　two…bedroom　Victorian　house　in　San　Francisco　s　Bernal　Heights。　It　had　a　peaked　roof；　hardwood　floors；　and　a　tiny　backyard　which　ended　in　a　sun　deck　and　a　fire　pit。　The　general　helped　me　refinish　the　deck　and　paint　the　walls。　Khala　Jamila　bemoaned　us　moving　almost　an　hour　away；　especially　since　she　thought　Soraya　needed　all　the　love　and　support　she　could　get……oblivious　to　the　fact　that　her　well…intended　but　overbearing　sympathy　was　precisely　what　was　driving　Soraya　to　move。
SOMETIMES；　SORAYA　SLEEPING　NEXT　TO　ME；　I　lay　in　bed　and　listened　to　the　screen　door　swinging　open　and　shut　with　the　breeze；　to　the　crickets　chirping　in　the　yard。　And　I　could　almost　feel　the　emptiness　in　Soraya　s　womb；　like　it　was　a　living；　breathing　thing。　It　had　seeped　into　our　marriage；　that　emptiness；　into　our　laughs；　and　our　lovemaking。　And　late　at　night；　in　the　darkness　of　our　room；
I　d　feel　it　rising　from　Soraya　and　settling　between　us。　Sleeping　between　us。　Like　a　newborn　child。
FOURTEEN
_June　2001_
I　lowered　the　phone　into　the　cradle　and　stared　at　it　for　a　long　time。　It　wasn　t　until　Aflatoon　startled　me　with　a　bark　that　I　realized　how　quiet　the　room　had　bee。　Soraya　had　muted　the　television。
　You　look　pale；　Amir；　　she　said　from　the　couch；　the　same　one　her　parents　had　given　us　as　a　housewarming　gift　for　our　first　apartment。　She　d　been　tying　on　it　with　Aflatoon　s　head　nestled　on　her　chest；　her　legs　buried　under　the　worn　pillows。　She　was　halfwatching　a　PBS　special　on　the　plight　of　wolves　in　Minnesota；　half…correcting　essays　from　her　summer…school　class……she　d　been　teaching　at　the　same　school　now　for　six　years。　She　sat　up；　and　Aflatoon　leapt　down　from　the　cou