雙語(yǔ)名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(163)

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(chǎng)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(guó)。

成年后的阿米爾始終無(wú)法原諒自己當(dāng)年對(duì)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(diǎn)心力，卻發(fā)現(xiàn)一個(gè)驚天謊言，兒時(shí)的噩夢(mèng)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(lái)令人蕩氣回腸。

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TWENTY-TWO
Farid eased the Land Cruiser up the driveway of a big house in Wazir Akbar Khan. He parked in the shadows of willow trees that spilled over the walls of the compound located on Street 15, Sarak-e-Mehmana, Street of the Guests. He killed the engine and we sat for a minute, listening to the tink-tink of the engine cooling off, neither one of us saying anything. Farid shifted on his seat and toyed with the keys still hanging from the ignition switch. I could tell he was readying himself to tell me something.
“I guess I’ll wait in the car for you,” he said finally, his tone a little apologetic. He wouldn’t look at me. “This is your business now. I--”
I patted his arm. “You’ve done much more than I’ve paid you for. I don’t expect you to go with me.” But I wished I didn’t have to go in alone. Despite what I had learned about Baba, I wished he were standing alongside me now. Baba would have busted through the front doors and demanded to be taken to the man in charge, piss on the beard of anyone who stood in his way. But Baba was long dead, buried in the Afghan section of a little cemetery in Hayward. Just last month, Soraya and I had placed a bouquet of daisies and freesias beside his headstone. I was on my own.
I stepped out of the car and walked to the tall, wooden front gates of the house. I rang the bell but no buzz came--still no electricity--and I had to pound on the doors. A moment later, I heard terse voices from the other side and a pair of men toting Kalash nikovs answered the door.
I glanced at Farid sitting in the car and mouthed, I’ll be back, not so sure at all that I would be. The armed men frisked me head to toe, patted my legs, felt my crotch. One of them said something in Pashtu and they both chuckled. We stepped through the front gates. The two guards escorted me across a well-manicured lawn, past a row of geraniums and stubby bushes lined along the wall. An old hand-pump water well stood at the far end of the yard. I remembered how Kaka Homayoun’s house in Jalalabad had had a water well like that--the twins, Fazila and Karima, and I used to drop pebbles in it, listen for the plink.

第二十二章
法里德駕駛陸地巡洋艦，緩緩開(kāi)上瓦茲爾?阿克巴?汗區(qū)一座大房子的車(chē)道。那座院子在十五號(hào)街，迎賓大道，柳樹(shù)的枝條從圍墻上伸出來(lái)，法里德把車(chē)停在柳陰下。他熄了火，我們坐了那么一分鐘，聽(tīng)著發(fā)動(dòng)機(jī)嘀嘀的冷卻聲，沒(méi)有人說(shuō)話。法里德在座位上轉(zhuǎn)動(dòng)身子，撥弄那把還掛在點(diǎn)火鎖孔的鑰匙。我知道他心里有話要對(duì)我說(shuō)。
“我想我會(huì)留在車(chē)?yán)锏饶??！彼詈笳f(shuō)，他沒(méi)有看著我，我……”
語(yǔ)氣有點(diǎn)抱歉。“這是你的事情。我拍拍他的手臂?！澳闾嫖易龅氖虑椋任腋跺X(qián)請(qǐng)你做的還多。我沒(méi)想過(guò)要你陪我進(jìn)去。”但我希望自己不用獨(dú)自進(jìn)去。盡管已經(jīng)知道爸爸的真面目，我還是希望他現(xiàn)在就站在我身邊。爸爸會(huì)昂首挺胸走進(jìn)前門(mén)，要求去見(jiàn)他們的頭目，在那些膽敢攔住去路的人胡子上撒尿。可是爸爸死去很久了，長(zhǎng)埋在海沃德一座小小墓園的阿富汗區(qū)。就在上個(gè)月，索拉雅和我還在他的墳頭擺一束雛菊和小蒼蘭。我只有靠自己了。
我下車(chē)，走向那房子高高的木頭大門(mén)。我按下門(mén)鈴，但沒(méi)有反應(yīng)——還在停電，我只好嘭嘭敲門(mén)。片刻之后，門(mén)后傳來(lái)短促的應(yīng)聲，兩個(gè)扛著俄制步槍的男人打開(kāi)門(mén)。
我看了看坐在車(chē)?yán)锏姆ɡ锏?，大聲說(shuō)：“我會(huì)回來(lái)的?！钡睦飬s是忐忑不安。持著槍械的家伙搜遍我全身，拍拍我的腿，摸摸我的胯下。其中一個(gè)用普什圖語(yǔ)說(shuō)了幾句，他們兩個(gè)哈哈大笑。我們穿過(guò)前門(mén)。那兩個(gè)衛(wèi)兵護(hù)送著我，走過(guò)一片修剪齊整的草坪，經(jīng)過(guò)一排植在墻邊的天竺葵和茂密的灌木叢。遠(yuǎn)處，在院子盡頭，有一泵搖井。我記得霍瑪勇叔叔在賈拉拉巴特的房子也有這樣的水井——那對(duì)雙胞胎，法茜拉和卡麗瑪，還有我，經(jīng)常往里面丟石頭，聽(tīng)它落水的聲音。