殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(151)
“What did you mean it may be too late?” I said.
“Would you like some chai? I could make some.”
“Nay, thank you. I’d rather we talk.”Zaman tilted back in his chair and crossed his arms on his chest. “What I have to tell you is not pleasant. Not to mention that it may be very dangerous.”
“For whom?”
“You. Me. And, of course, for Sohrab, if it’s not too late already.”
“I need to know,” I said.
He nodded. “So you say. But first I want to ask you a question: How badly do you want to find your nephew?”
I thought of the street fights we’d get into when we were kids, all the times Hassan used to take them on for me, two against one, sometimes three against one. I’d wince and watch, tempted to step in, but always stopping short, always held back by something.
I looked at the hallway, saw a group of kids dancing in a circle. A little girl, her left leg amputated below the knee, sat on a ratty mattress and watched, smiling and clapping along with the other children. I saw Farid watching the children too, his own mangled hand hanging at his side. I remembered Wahid’s boys and... I realized something: I would not leave Afghanistan without finding Sohrab. “Tell me where he is,” I said.
Zaman’s gaze lingered on me. Then he nodded, picked up a pencil, and twirled it between his fingers. “Keep my name out of it.”
“I promise.”
負責人的辦公室是這麼一間房子：四面空蕩蕩的開裂牆壁，一張地毯，一張桌子，兩張摺疊椅。察曼和我坐下的時候，我看見一隻灰色的老鼠從牆洞探出頭來，竄過房間。它嗅嗅我的鞋子，我身體一縮，接着它去嗅察曼的鞋子，這才奔出洞開的門。
“你剛纔說太遲了是什麼意思？”我說。
“你們想喝茶嗎？我可以去弄一些。”
“不了，謝謝。我們還是談談。”察曼身子倒在座椅上，雙臂抱胸，“我要告訴你的是不愉快的事情，更別提可能還很危險。”
“誰危險？”
“你，我。當然還有索拉博，如果還不算太遲的話。”
“我需要知道。”他點點頭：
“好的。但我首先想問你一個問題。你有多渴望想找到你的侄兒？”
我想起童年時代，我們在街頭和人打架，每次都是哈桑爲我挺身而出，一個打兩個，有時是三個。我畏縮旁觀，心裏想幫忙，但總是望而卻步，總是被不知道什麼東西拉退。
我望着走廊，看見一羣孩子，圍成一圈跳舞。有個小女孩，左腿從膝蓋以下不見了，她坐在破舊的墊子上觀望，微笑着，和其他孩子一起拍着手。我看見法裏德也在看着那些孩子，他殘廢的手就掛在身邊。我想起瓦希德的兒子……我恍然省悟：如果沒有找到索拉博，我絕不離開阿富汗。 “告訴我他在哪兒。”我說。
察曼凝望着我，然後他點點頭，撿起一枝鉛筆，在手指間轉動。“別說是我告訴你的。”
“我答應你。”
