the kite runner- 第51部分

　You　shouldn　t　have　burdened　yourselves。　All　of　you；　　Baba　croaked。
　It　s　no　burden；　　Khanum　Taheri　said。
　No　burden　at　all。　More　importantly；　do　you　need　anything？　　General　Taheri　said。　　Anything　at　all？　Ask　me　like　you　d　ask　a　brother。　
I　remembered　something　Baba　had　said　about　Pashtuns　once。　We　may　be　hardheaded　and　I　know　we　re　far　too　proud；　but；　in　the　hour　of　need；　believe　me　that　there　s　no　one　you　d　rather　have　at　your　side　than　a　Pashtun。
Baba　shook　his　head　on　the　pillow。　　Your　ing　here　has　brightened　my　eyes。　　The　general　smiled　and　squeezed　Baba　s　hand。　　How　are　you；　Amir　jan？　Do　you　need　anything？　
The　way　he　was　looking　at　me；　the　kindness　in　his　eyes。。。　　Nay　thank　you；　General　Sahib。　I　m。。。　　A　lump　shot　up　in　my　throat　and　my　eyes　teared　over。　I　bolted　out　of　the　room。
I　wept　in　the　hallway；　by　the　viewing　box　where；　the　night　before；　I　d　seen　the　killer　s　face。
Baba　s　door　opened　and　Soraya　walked　out　of　his　room。　She　stood　near　me。　She　was　wearing　a　gray　sweatshirt　and　jeans。　Her　hair　was　down。　I　wanted　to　find　fort　in　her　arms。
　I　m　so　sorry；　Amir；　　she　said。　　We　all　knew　something　was　wrong；　but　we　had　no　idea　it　was　this。　
I　blotted　my　eyes　with　my　sleeve。　　He　didn　t　want　anyone　to　know。　
　Do　you　need　anything？　
　No。　　I　tried　to　smile。　She　put　her　hand　on　mine。　Our　first　touch。　I　took　it。　Brought　it　to　my　face。　My　eyes。　I　let　it　go。　　You　d　better　go　back　inside。　Or　your　father　will　e　after　me。　
She　smiled　and　nodded。　　I　should。　　She　turned　to　go。　　Soraya？　
　Yes？　
　I　m　happy　you　came；　It　means。。。　the　world　to　me。　
THEY　DISCHARGED　BABA　two　days　later。　They　brought　in　a　specialist　called　a　radiation　oncologist　to　talk　Baba　into　getting　radiation　treatment。　Baba　refused。　They　tried　to　talk　me　into　talking　him　into　it。　But　I　d　seen　the　look　on　Baba　s　face。　I　thanked　them；　signed　their　forms；　and　took　Baba　home　in　my　Ford　Torino。
That　night；　Baba　was　lying　on　the　couch；　a　wool　blanket　covering　him。　I　brought　him　hot　tea　and　roasted　almonds。　Wrapped　my　arms　around　his　back　and　pulled　him　up　much　too　easily。　His　shoulder　blade　felt　like　a　bird　s　wing　under　my　fingers。　I　pulled　the　blanket　back　up　to　his　chest　where　ribs　stretched　his　thin；　sallow　skin。
　Can　I　do　anything　else　for　you；　Baba？　
　Nay；　bachem。　Thank　you。　
I　sat　beside　him。　　Then　I　wonder　if　you　ll　do　something　for　me。　If　you　re　not　too　exhausted。　
　What？　
　I　want　you　to　go　khastegari。　I　want　you　to　ask　General　Taheri　for　his　daughter　s　hand。　
Baba　s　dry　lips　stretched　into　a　smile。　A　spot　of　green　on　a　wilted　leaf。　　Are　you　sure？　
　More　sure　than　I　ve　ever　been　about　anything。　
　You　ve　thought　it　over？　
　Balay；　Baba。　
　Then　give　me　the　phone。　And　my　little　notebook。　
I　blinked。　　Now？　
　Then　when？　
I　smiled。　　Okay。　　I　gave　him　the　phone　and　the　little　black　notebook　where　Baba　had　scribbled　his　Afghan　friends　　numbers。
He　looked　up　the　Taheris。　Dialed。　Brought　the　receiver　to　his　ear。　My　heart　was　doing　pirouettes　in　my　chest。
　Jamila　jan？　Salaam　alaykum；　　he　said。　He　introduced　himself。　Paused。　　Much　better；　thank　you。　It　was　so　gracious　of　you　to　e。　　He　listened　for　a　while。　Nodded。　　I　ll　remember　that；　thank　you。　Is　General　Sahib　home？　　Pause。　　Thank　you。　
His　eyes　flicked　to　me。　I　wanted　to　laugh　for　some　reason。　Or　scream。　I　brought　the　ball　of　my　hand　to　my　mouth　and　bit　on　it。　Baba　laughed　softly　through　his　nose。
　General　Sahib；　Salaam　alaykum。。。　Yes；　much　much　better。。。　Balay。。。　You　re　so　kind。　General　Sahib；　I　m　calling　to　ask　if　I　may　pay　you　and　Khanum　Taheri　a　visit　tomorrow　morning。　It　s　an　honorable　matter。。。　Yes。。。　Eleven　o　clock　is　just　fine。　Until　then。　Khoda　h~afez。　
He　hung　up。　We　looked　at　each　other。　I　burst　into　giggles。　Baba　joined　in。
BABA　WET　HIS　HAIR　and　bed　it　back。　I　helped　him　into　a　clean　white　shirt　and　knotted　his　tie　for　him；　noting　the　two　inches　of　empty　space　between　the　collar　button　and　Baba　s　neck。　I　thought　of　all　the　empty　spaces　Baba　would　leave　behind　when　he　was　gone；　and　I　made　myself　think　of　something　else。　He　wasn　t　gone。　Not　yet。　And　this　was　a　day　for　good　thoughts。　The　jacket　of　his　brown　suit；　the　one　he　d　worn　to　my　graduation；　hung　over　him……too　much　of　Baba　had　melted　away　to　fill　it　anymore。　I　had　to　roll　up　the　sleeves。　I　stooped　and　tied　his　shoelaces　for　him。
The　Taheris　lived　in　a　flat；　one…story　house　in　one　of　the　residential　areas　in　Fremont　known　for　housing　a　large　number　of　Afghans。　It　had　bay　windows；　a　pitched　roof；　and　an　enclosed　front　porch　on　which　I　saw　potted　geraniums。　The　general　s　gray　van　was　parked　in　the　driveway。
I　helped　Baba　out　of　the　Ford　and　slipped　back　behind　the　wheel。　He　leaned　in　the　passenger　window。　　Be　home；　I　ll　call　you　in　an　hour。　
　Okay；　Baba；　　I　said。　　Good　luck。　
He　smiled。
I　drove　away。　In　the　rearview　mirror；　Baba　was　hobbling　up　the　Taheris　　driveway　for　one　last　fatherly　duty。
I　PACED　THE　LIVING　ROOM　of　our　apartment　waiting　for　Baba　s　call。　Fifteen　paces　long。　Ten　and　a　half　paces　wide。　What　if　the　general　said　no？　What　if　he　hated　me？　I　kept　going　to　the　kitchen；　checking　the　oven　clock。
The　phone　rang　just　before　noon。　It　was　Baba。
　Well？　
　The　gene