雙語名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(153)

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，作者以溫暖細膩的筆法勾勒人性的本質(zhì)與救贖，讀來令人蕩氣回腸。

下面就跟小編一起來欣賞雙語名著·追風(fēng)箏的人 The Kite Runner(153)的精彩內(nèi)容吧！

“You call yourself a director?” Farid said.Zaman dropped his hands. “I haven’t been paid in over six months. I’m broke because I’ve spent my life’s savings on this orphanage. Everything I ever owned or inherited I sold to run this godforsaken place. You think I don’t have family in Pakistan and Iran? I could have run like everyone else. But I didn’t. I stayed. I stayed because of them.” He pointed to the door. “If I deny him one child, he takes ten. So I let him take one and leave the judging to Allah. I swallow my pride and take his goddamn filthy... dirty money. Then I go to the bazaar and buy food for the children.”Farid dropped his eyes.
“What happens to the children he takes?” I asked.Zaman rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “Some times they come back.”“Who is he? How do we find him?” I said.“Go to Ghazi Stadium tomorrow. You’ll see him at halftime. He’ll be the one wearing black sunglasses.” He picked up his broken glasses and turned them in his hands. “I want you to go now. The children are frightened.”He escorted us out.As the truck pulled away, I saw Zaman in the side-view mirror, standing in the doorway. A group of children surrounded him, clutching the hem of his loose shirt. I saw he had put on his broken glasses.
We crossed the river and drove north through the crowded Pashtunistan Square. Baba used to take me to Khyber Restaurant there for kabob. The building was still standing, but its doors were padlocked, the windows shattered, and the letters K and R missing from its name.
I saw a dead body near the restaurant. There had been a hanging. A young man dangled from the end of a rope tied to a beam, his face puffy and blue, the clothes he’d worn on the last day of his life shredded, bloody. Hardly anyone seemed to notice him.
We rode silently through the square and headed toward the WazirAkbar Khan district. Everywhere I looked, a haze of dust covered the city and its sun-dried brick buildings. A few blocks north of Pashtunistan Square, Farid pointed to two men talking animatedly at a busy street corner. One of them was hobbling on one leg, his other leg amputated below the knee. He cradled an artificial leg in his arms. “You know what they’re doing? Haggling over the leg.”
“He’s selling his leg?”

“你還說自己是負(fù)責(zé)人？”察曼放下手：“我已經(jīng)有六個月沒有收入了。我破產(chǎn)了，因為我畢生的積蓄，都投在這個恤孤院。我賣掉一切財產(chǎn)和遺產(chǎn)，來維持這個凄涼的地方。你以為我沒有家人在巴基斯坦和伊朗嗎？我完全可以像其他人那樣一走了之。但我沒有，我留下。我留下來，全是為了他們?！彼钢T，“如果我拒絕給他一個孩子，他會帶走十個。所以我讓他帶走，讓安拉來作決定。我忍氣吞聲，拿過他那些該死的、骯臟的臭錢，然后到市場去，給孩子買食物。”法里德垂下眼睛。
“被他帶走的孩子會怎樣？”我問。察曼用食指和拇指揉揉眼睛：“有時他們會回來?！薄八钦l？我們怎樣才能找到他？”“明天到伽茲體育館去，中場休息的時候你會看到他，他就是那個戴著黑色太陽鏡的人。”他撿起他的破眼鏡，在手里翻轉(zhuǎn)，“我要你們現(xiàn)在就離開，孩子嚇壞了?！彼臀覀兂鋈?。車開走的時候，我從側(cè)視鏡看到察曼，他站在門口，一群孩子圍在他身邊，拉著他松開的襯衣下擺。我看見他戴上那副破眼鏡。
我們過河，向北駛?cè)ィ┻^擁擠的普什圖廣場，從前爸爸常帶我到那兒的開伯爾餐館吃烤肉。那屋宇依然挺立，只是大門上了掛鎖，窗戶破裂，招牌上不見了“ K”和“ R”兩個字母。
在餐館附近，我見到一具尸體。那兒行過絞刑，有個年輕人被吊起來，繩索末端綁在橫梁上，他臉龐青腫，壽終那日，他穿著殘破的衣服，染著血跡。人們對他視而不見。
我們默默駛過廣場，直奔瓦茲爾?阿克巴?汗區(qū)。我目光所及，見到的總是一座塵霧籠罩的城市，還有生磚壘成的建筑。在普什圖廣場往北幾條街，法里德指著兩個男人，他們在繁忙的街角相談甚歡。其中有個金雞獨立，他另外那條腿從膝蓋以下不見了，懷里抱著一根義肢?！澳阒浪麄冊诟墒裁磫?？就那條腿討價還價呢?！?br />“他要賣掉他的腿？”