殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(193)

“You’re not dirty at all.”
“--they did things... the bad man and the other two... they did things... did things to me.”
“You’re not dirty, and you’re not full of sin.” I touched his arm again and he drew away. I reached again, gently, and pulled him to me. “I won’t hurt you,” I whispered. “I promise.” He resisted a lit tle. Slackened. He let me draw him to me and rested his head on my chest. His little body convulsed in my arms with each sob.A kinship exists between people who’ve fed from the same breast. Now, as the boy’s pain soaked through my shirt, I saw that a kinship had taken root between us too. What had happened in that room with Assef had irrevocably bound us.I’d been looking for the right time, the right moment, to ask the question that had been buzzing around in my head and keep ing me up at night. I decided the moment was now, right here, right now, with the bright lights of the house of God shining on us.
“Would you like to come live in America with me and my wife?”
He didn’t answer. He sobbed into my shirt and I let him.
FOR A WEEK, neither one of us mentioned what I had asked him, as if the question hadn’t been posed at all. Then one day, Sohrab and I took a taxicab to the Daman-e-Koh Viewpoint--or “the hem of the mountain.” Perched midway up the Margalla Hills, it gives a panoramic view of Islamabad, its rows of clean, tree-lined avenues and white houses. The driver told us we could see the presidential palace from up there. “If it has rained and the air is clear, you can even see past Rawalpindi,” he said. I saw his eyes in his rearview mirror, skipping from Sohrab to me, back and forth, back and forth. I saw my own face too. It wasn’t as swollen as before, but it had taken on a yellow tint from my assortment of fading bruises. We sat on a bench in one of the picnic areas, in the shade of a gum tree. It was a warm day, the sun perched high in a topaz blue sky. On benches nearby, families snacked on samosas and pakoras. Somewhere, a radio played a Hindi song I thought I remembered from an old movie, maybe Pakeeza. Kids, many of them Sohrab’s age, chased soccer balls, giggling, yelling. I thought about the orphanage in Karteh-Seh, thought about the rat that had scurried between my feet in Zaman’s office. My chest tightened with a surge of unexpected anger at the way my countrymen were destroying their own land.
“What?” Sohrab asked. I forced a smile and told him it wasn’t unrolled one of the hotel’s bathroom towels on the picnic table and played panjpar on it. It felt good being there, with my half brother’s son, playing cards, the warmth of the sun patting the back of my neck. The song ended and another one started, one I didn’t recognize.
“Look,” Sohrab said. He was pointing to the sky with his cards. I looked up, saw a hawk circling in the broad seamless sky. “Didn’t know there were hawks in Islamabad,” I said.
“Me neither,” he said, his eyes tracing the bird’s circular flight. “Do they have them where you live?”
“San Francisco? I guess so. I can’t say I’ve seen too many, though.”

“你一點都不髒。”
“……他們對我……那個壞人和其他兩個……他們對我……對我做了某些事情。”
“你不髒，你身上沒有罪。”我又去碰他的手臂，他抽開。我再伸出手，輕輕地將他拉近。“我不會傷害你，”我低聲說，“我保證。”他掙扎了一下，全身放鬆，讓我將他拉近，把頭靠在我胸膛上。他小小的身體在我懷裏隨着每聲啜泣抽動。喝着同樣的奶水長大的人之間會有親情。如今，就在這個男孩痛苦的淚水浸溼我的衣裳時，我看到我們身上也有親情開始生長出來。在那間房間裏面和阿塞夫發生的事情讓我們緊緊聯繫在一起，不可分開。我一直在尋找恰當的機會、恰當的時間，問出那個縈繞在我腦裏、讓我徹夜無眠的問題。我決定現在就問，就在此地，就在此刻，就在照射着我們的真主房間的藍色燈光之下。
“你願意到美國去、跟我和我的妻子一起生活嗎？”
他沒有回答，他的淚水流進我的襯衣，我隨他去。
整整一個星期，我們兩個都沒提起我所問過他的，似乎那個問題從來沒被說出來。接着某天，我和索拉博坐出租車，前往“達曼尼科”——它的意思是“那座山的邊緣”——觀景臺。 它坐落在瑪加拉山半腰，可以看到伊斯蘭堡的全景，樹木夾道的縱橫街路，還有白色房子。司機告訴我們，從上面能看到總統的宮殿。“如果剛下過雨，空氣清新，你們甚至能看到拉瓦爾品第[Rawalpindi，伊斯蘭堡附近古城].”他說。我從他那邊的觀後鏡，看見他掃視着我和索拉博，來回看個不停。我也看到自己的臉，不像過去那樣浮腫，但各處消退中的淤傷在它上面留下黃色的痕跡。我們坐在橡膠樹的陰影裏面，野餐區的長椅上。那天很暖和，太陽高懸在澄藍的天空中，旁邊的長椅上坐着幾個家庭，在吃土豆餅和炸蔬菜餅。不知何處傳來收音機播放印度音樂的聲音，我想我在某部舊電影裏面聽過，也許是《純潔》 [Pakeeza，1971年公映，巴基斯坦電影]吧。一些孩子追逐着足球，他們多數跟索拉博差不多年紀，咯咯發笑，大聲叫喊。我想起卡德察區那個恤孤院，想起在察曼的辦公室，那隻老鼠從我雙腳之間穿過。我心口發緊，猛然升起一陣始料不及的怒火，爲着我的同胞正在摧毀他們的家園。
“怎麼了？”索拉博問。我擠出笑臉，跟他說沒什麼。我們把一條從旅館衛生間取來的浴巾鋪在野餐桌上，在它上面玩起番吉帕。在那兒跟我同父異母兄弟的兒子一起玩牌，溫暖的陽光照射在我脖子後面，那感覺真好。那首歌結束了，另外一首響起，我沒聽過。
“看。”索拉博說，他用撲克牌指着天空。我擡頭，見到有隻蒼鷹在一望無垠的天空中翱翔。“我還不知道伊斯蘭堡有老鷹呢。”
“我也不知道。”他說，眼睛看着那隻迴旋的鳥兒，“你生活的地方有老鷹嗎？”
“舊金山？我想有吧，不過我沒有見過很多。”