雙語名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(58)

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。

成年后的阿米爾始終無法原諒自己當(dāng)年對哈桑的背叛。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心力，卻發(fā)現(xiàn)一個驚天謊言，兒時的噩夢再度重演，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，讀來令人蕩氣回腸。

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“I want you to stop harassing me. I want you to go away,” I snapped. I wished he would give it right back to me, break the door open and tell me off--it would have made things easier, better. But he didn’t do anything like that, and when I opened the door minutes later, he wasn’t there. I fell on my bed, buried my head under the pillow, and cried.
HASSAN MILLED ABOUT the periphery of my life after that. I made sure our paths crossed as little as possible, planned my day that way. Because when he was around, the oxygen seeped out of the room. My chest tightened and I couldn’t draw enough air; I’d stand there, gasping in my own little airless bubble of atmosphere. But even when he wasn’t around, he was. He was there in the hand-washed and ironed clothes on the cane-seat chair, in the warm slippers left outside my door, in the wood already burning in the stove when I came down for breakfast. Everywhere I turned, I saw signs of his loyalty, his goddamn unwavering loyalty.
Early that spring, a few days before the new school year started, Baba and I were planting tulips in the garden. Most of the snow had melted and the hills in the north were already dotted with patches of green grass. It was a cool, gray morning, and Baba was squatting next to me, digging the soil and planting the bulbs I handed to him. He was telling me how most people thought it was better to plant tulips in the fall and how that wasn’t true, when I came right out and said it. “Baba, have you ever thought about get ting new servants?”
He dropped the tulip bulb and buried the trowel in the dirt. Took off his gardening gloves. I’d startled him. “Chi? What did you say?”
“I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“Why would I ever want to do that?” Baba said curtly.
“You wouldn’t, I guess. It was just a question,” I said, my voice fading to a murmur. I was already sorry I’d said it.
“Is this about you and Hassan? I know there’s something going on between you two, but whatever it is, you have to deal with it, not me. I’m staying out of it.”
“I’m sorry, Baba.”
He put on his gloves again. “I grew up with Ali,” he said through clenched teeth. “My father took him in, he loved Ali like his own son. Forty years Ali’s been with my family. Forty goddamn years. And you think I’m just going to throw him out?” He turned to me now, his face as red as a tulip. “I’ve never laid a hand on you, Amir, but you ever say that again...” He looked away, shaking his head. “You bring me shame. And Hassan... Hassan’s not going anywhere, do you understand?”
I looked down and picked up a fistful of cool soil. Let it pour between my fingers.
“I said, Do you understand?” Baba roared.
I flinched. “Yes, Baba.”

“我要你別再騷擾我，我要你走開?！蔽也荒蜔┑卣f。我希望他會報復(fù)我，破門而入，將我臭罵一頓——這樣事情會變得容易一些，變得好一些。但他沒有那樣做，隔了幾分鐘，我打開門，他已經(jīng)不在了。我倒在自己的床上，將頭埋在枕上，眼淚直流。
自那以后，哈桑攪亂了我的生活。我每天盡可能不跟他照面，并以此安排自己的生活。因為每當(dāng)他在旁邊，房間里的氧氣就會消耗殆盡。我的胸口會收縮，無法呼吸；我會站在那兒，被一些沒有空氣的泡泡包圍，喘息著?？删退闼辉谖疑磉叄胰匀桓杏X到他在，他就在那兒，在藤椅上那些他親手漿洗和熨燙的衣服上，在那雙擺在我門外的溫暖的便鞋里面，每當(dāng)我下樓吃早餐，他就在火爐里那些熊熊燃燒的木頭上。無論我走到哪兒，都能看見他忠心耿耿的信號，他那該死的、毫不動搖的忠心。
那年早春，距開學(xué)還有幾天，爸爸和我在花園里種郁金香。大部分積雪已經(jīng)融化，北邊的山頭開始露出一片片如茵綠草。那是個寒冷、陰沉的早晨，爸爸在我身旁，一邊說話，一邊掘開泥土，把我遞給他的球莖種下。他告訴我，有很多人都以為秋天是種植郁金香的最好季節(jié)，然而那是錯的。這當(dāng)頭，我問了他一個問題:“爸爸，你有沒有想過請新的傭人?”
他扔下球莖，把鏟子插在泥土中，扔掉手里的工作手套，看來我讓他大吃一驚，“什么?你剛才說什么?”
“我只是想想而已，沒別的?！?br />“為什么我要那樣做?”爸爸粗聲說。
“你不會，我想。那只是一個問題而已。”我說，聲音降低了。我已經(jīng)后悔自己那樣說了。
“是因為你和哈桑嗎?我知道你們之間有問題，但不管那是什么問題，應(yīng)該處理它的人是你，不是我。我會袖手旁觀?！?br />“對不起，爸爸?！?br />他又戴上手套?！拔液桶⒗镆黄痖L大?！彼а狼旋X地說，“我爸爸將他帶回家，他對阿里視如己出。阿里待在我家四十年了，整整四十年。而你認(rèn)為我會將他趕走?”他轉(zhuǎn)向我，臉紅得像郁金香一樣,“我不會碰你一下，阿米爾，但你要是膽敢再說一次……”他移開眼睛，搖搖頭，“你真讓我覺得羞恥。至于哈?！Ｄ睦镆膊蝗?。你知不知道?”
我望著地面，手里抓起一把冷冷的泥土，任由它從我指縫間滑落。
“我說，你知不知道?”爸爸咆哮了。
我害怕了:“我知道，爸爸。”