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。
下面就跟小編一起來(lái)欣賞雙語(yǔ)名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(188)的精彩內(nèi)容吧!
“Two thou--” he began. His lower lip was quivering a little. Later, when he pulled away from the curb, he honked twice and waved. I waved back. I never saw him again.
I returned to the hotel room and found Sohrab lying on the bed, curled up in a big C. His eyes were closed but I couldn’t tell if he was sleeping. He had shut off the television. I sat on my bed and grimaced with pain, wiped the cool sweat off my brow. I wondered how much longer it would hurt to get up, sit down, roll over in bed. I wondered when I’d be able to eat solid food. I wondered what I’d do with the wounded little boy lying on the bed, though a part of me already knew.
There was a carafe of water on the dresser. I poured a glass and took two of Armand’s pain pills. The water was warm and bitter. I pulled the curtains, eased myself back on the bed, and lay down. I thought my chest would rip open. When the pain dropped a notch and I could breathe again, I pulled the blanket to my chest and waited for Armand’s pills to work.
WHEN I WOKE UP, the room was darker. The slice of sky peeking between the curtains was the purple of twilight turning into night. The sheets were soaked and my head pounded. I’d been dreaming again, but I couldn’t remember what it had been about. My heart gave a sick lurch when I looked to Sohrab’s bed and found it empty I called his name. The sound of my voice startled me. It was disorienting, sitting in a dark hotel room, thousands of miles from home, my body broken, calling the name of a boy I’d only met a few days ago. I called his name again and heard nothing. I struggled out of bed, checked the bathroom, looked in the narrow hallway outside the room. He was gone.
I locked the door and hobbled to the manager’s office in the lobby, one hand clutching the rail along the walkway for support. There was a fake, dusty palm tree in the corner of the lobby and flying pink flamingos on the wallpaper. I found the hotel manager reading a newspaper behind the Formica-topped check-in counter. I described Sohrab to him, asked if he’d seen him. He put down his paper and took off his reading glasses. He had greasy hair and a square-shaped little mustache speckled with gray. He smelled vaguely of some tropical fruit I couldn’t quite recognize.
“Boys, they like to run around,” he said, sighing. “I have three of them. All day they are running around, troubling their mother.” He fanned his face with the newspaper, staring at my jaws.
“I don’t think he’s out running around,” I said. “And we’re not from here. I’m afraid he might get lost.”He bobbed his head from side to side. “Then you should have kept an eye on the boy, mister.”
“I know,” I said. “But I fell asleep and when I woke up, he was gone.”
“Boys must be tended to, you know.”
“Yes,” I said, my pulse quickening. How could he be so oblivious to my apprehension? He shifted the newspaper to his other hand, resumed the fanning. “They want bicycles now”
“Who?”
“My boys,” he said. “They’re saying, ‘Daddy, Daddy, please buy us bicycles and we’ll not trouble you. Please, Daddy!” He gave a short laugh through his nose. “Bicycles. Their mother will kill me, I swear to you.”
I imagined Sohrab lying in a ditch. Or in the trunk of some car, bound and gagged. I didn’t want his blood on my hands. Not his too. “Please...” I said. I squinted. Read his name tag on the lapel of his short-sleeve blue cotton shirt. “Mr. Fayyaz, have you seen him?”
“The boy?”
“兩干……”他說(shuō),下唇稍微有點(diǎn)顫抖。稍后,他駛離停車(chē)道的時(shí)候,撳了兩下喇叭,搖搖手。我也朝他招手。再也沒(méi)有見(jiàn)到他。
我回到旅館房間,發(fā)現(xiàn)索拉博躺在床上,身子彎成弓形。他雙眼合上,但我不知道他是不是睡著了。他關(guān)掉了電視。我坐在床上,痛得齜牙咧嘴,抹去額頭上的冷汗。我在想,要過(guò)多久,起身、坐下、在床上翻身才不會(huì)發(fā)痛呢?我在想,什么時(shí)候才能吃固體食物呢?我在想,我該拿這個(gè)躺在床上的受傷的小男孩怎么辦?不過(guò)我心里已經(jīng)有了想法。
柜臺(tái)上有個(gè)飲水機(jī)。我倒了一玻璃杯水,吞下兩片阿曼德的藥丸。水是溫的,帶有苦味。我拉上窗簾,慢慢躺在床上。我覺(jué)得自己的胸膛會(huì)裂開(kāi)。等到痛楚稍減、我又能呼吸的時(shí)候,我拉過(guò)毛毯蓋在身上,等著阿曼德的藥丸生效。
醒來(lái)之后,房間變黑了。窗簾之間露出一線天光,那是即將轉(zhuǎn)入黑夜的紫色斜暉。汗水浸透被褥,我腦袋昏重。我又做夢(mèng)了,但忘記夢(mèng)到什么。我望向索拉博的床,發(fā)現(xiàn)它是空的,心里一沉。我叫他的名字,發(fā)出的嗓音嚇了自己一跳。那真是茫然失措,坐在陰暗的旅館房間,離家萬(wàn)里,身體傷痕累累,呼喚著一個(gè)幾天前才遇到的男孩的名字。我又喊了他的名字,沒(méi)聽(tīng)到回答。我掙扎著起床,查看衛(wèi)生間,朝外面那條狹窄的走廊望去。他不見(jiàn)了。
我鎖上房門(mén),一只手扶在走廊的欄桿上,跌跌撞撞走到大堂的經(jīng)理辦公室。大堂的角落有株滿是塵灰的假棕櫚樹(shù),粉紅的火烈鳥(niǎo)在壁紙上飛舞。我在塑料貼面的登記柜臺(tái)后面,找到正在看報(bào)紙的經(jīng)理。我向他描繪索拉博的樣子,問(wèn)他有沒(méi)有見(jiàn)到過(guò)。他放下報(bào)紙,摘掉老花鏡。他的頭發(fā)油膩,整齊的小胡子有些灰白,身上依稀有種我叫不上名字的熱帶水果味道。
“男孩嘛,他們總喜歡出去玩?!彼麌@氣說(shuō),“我有三個(gè)男孩,他們整天都跑得不見(jiàn)蹤影,給他們母親惹麻煩。”他用報(bào)紙扇風(fēng),看著我的下巴。?
“我認(rèn)為他不是出去玩,”我說(shuō),“我們不是本地人,我擔(dān)心他會(huì)迷路?!彼麚u搖頭:“你應(yīng)該看好那個(gè)男孩,先生。”
“我知道,”我說(shuō),“但我睡著了,醒來(lái)他已經(jīng)不見(jiàn)了?!?br />“男孩應(yīng)該多加關(guān)心的,你知道。”
“是的。”我說(shuō),血?dú)馍嫌?。他怎么可以?duì)我的焦急如此無(wú)動(dòng)于衷?他把報(bào)紙交在另外一只手上,繼續(xù)扇風(fēng),“他們現(xiàn)在想要自行車(chē)?!?br />“誰(shuí)?”
“我的孩子?!彼f(shuō),“他們總在說(shuō):”爸爸,爸爸,請(qǐng)給我們買(mǎi)自行車(chē),我們不會(huì)給你帶來(lái)麻煩。求求你,爸爸?!毙σ宦?,自行車(chē)。他們的母親會(huì)殺了我,我敢向你保證?!?br />我想像著索拉博橫尸街頭,或者在某輛轎車(chē)的后廂里面,手腳被綁,嘴巴被塞住。我不想他死在我手里,不想他也因我而死?!奥闊┠恪蔽艺f(shuō),皺起眉頭,看見(jiàn)他那件短袖藍(lán)色棉襯衫翻領(lǐng)上的商標(biāo),“費(fèi)亞茲先生,你見(jiàn)過(guò)他嗎?”
“那個(gè)男孩?”