雙語名著·追風箏的人 The Kite Runner(110)

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·追風箏的人 The Kite Runner(110)的精彩內(nèi)容吧！

She stood up now. “Pakistan?”
“Rahim Khan is very sick.” A fist clenched inside me with those words.
“Kaka’s old business partner?” She’d never met Rahim Khan, but I had told her about him. I nodded.
“Oh,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Amir.”
“We used to be close,” I said. “When I was a kid, he was the first grown-up I ever thought of as a friend.” I pictured him and Baba drinking tea in Baba’s study, then smoking near the window, a sweetbrier-scented breeze blowing from the garden and bending the twin columns of smoke.
“I remember you telling me that,” Soraya said. She paused. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. He wants to see me.”
“Is it...”
“Yes, it’s safe. I’ll be all right, Soraya.” It was the question she’d wanted to ask all along--fifteen years of marriage had turned us into mind readers.

“I’m going to go for a walk.”
“Should I go with you?”
“Nay, I’d rather be alone.”
I DROVE TO GOLDEN GATE PARK and walked along Spreckels Lake on the northern edge of the park. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon; the sun sparkled on the water where dozens of miniature boats sailed, propelled by a crisp San Francisco breeze. I sat on a park bench, watched a man toss a football to his son, telling him to not sidearm the ball, to throw over the shoulder. I glanced up and saw a pair of kites, red with long blue tails. They floated high above the trees on the west end of the park, over the windmills.
I thought about a comment Rahim Khan had made just before we hung up. Made it in passing, almost as an afterthought. I closed my eyes and saw him at the other end of the scratchy longdistance line, saw him with his lips slightly parted, head tilted to one side. And again, something in his bottomless black eyes hinted at an unspoken secret between us. Except now I knew he knew. My suspicions had been right all those years. He knew about Assef, the kite, the money, the watch with the lightning bolt hands. He had always known.
Come. There is a way to be good again, Rahim Khan had said on the phone just before hanging up. Said it in passing, almost as an afterthought.
A way to be good again.

她當即站起來：“巴基斯坦？”
“拉辛汗病得很厲害?！蔽艺f著這話的時候內(nèi)心絞痛。
“叔叔以前的合伙人嗎？”她從未見過拉辛汗，但我提及過他。我點點頭。
“哦，”她說，“我很難過，阿米爾。”
“過去我們很要好?！蔽艺f，“當我還是孩子的時候，他是第一個被我當成朋友的成年人?！蔽颐枋銎饋?，說到他和爸爸在書房里面喝茶，然后靠近窗戶吸煙，和風從花園帶來陣陣薔薇的香味，吹得兩根煙柱裊裊飄散。
“我記得你提到過?！彼骼耪f。她沉默了一會，“你會去多久？”
“我不知道，他想看到我。”
“那兒……”
“是的，那兒很安全。我會沒事的，索拉雅?！彼雴柕氖沁@個問題——十五年的琴瑟和鳴讓我們變得心有靈犀。
“我想出去走走?！?br />“要我陪著你嗎？”
“不用，我想一個人。
”我驅(qū)車前往金門公園，獨自沿著公園北邊的斯普瑞柯湖邊散步。那是個美麗的星期天下午，太陽照在波光粼粼的水面上，數(shù)十艘輕舟在舊金山清新的和風吹拂中漂行。我坐在公園的長椅上，看著一個男人將橄欖球扔給他的兒子，告訴他不可橫臂投球，要舉過肩膀。我抬起頭，望見兩只紅色的風箏，拖著藍色的長尾巴。它們越過公園西端的樹林，越過風車。
我想起掛電話之前拉辛汗所說的一句話。他不經(jīng)意間提起，卻宛如經(jīng)過深思熟慮。我閉上眼，看見他在嘈雜的長途電話線那端，看見他歪著頭，嘴唇微微分合。再一次，他深邃莫測的黑色眼珠中，有些東西暗示著我們之間未經(jīng)說出的秘密。但是此刻我知道他知道。我這些年來的懷疑是對的。他知道阿塞夫、風箏、錢，還有那個指針閃光的手表的事情。他一直都知道。
“來吧。這兒有再次成為好人的路?！崩梁乖趻祀娫捴罢f了這句話。不經(jīng)意間提起，卻宛如經(jīng)過深思熟慮。
再次成為好人的路。