第十三章 - 追风筝的人 - 蜗牛双语阅读

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追风筝的人 | 第十三章

2/27

She led us through a brightly lit hallway to the living room. On the wood-paneled walls, I saw pictures of the people who would become my new family: A young bouffant-haired Khanum Taheri and the general -- Niagara Falls in the background; Khanum Taheri in a seamless dress, the general in a narrow-lapelled jacket and thin tie, his hair full and black; Soraya, about to board a wooden roller coaster, waving and smiling, the sun glinting off the silver wires in her teeth. A photo of the general, dashing in full military outfit, shaking hands with King Hussein of Jordan. A portrait of Zahir Shah.

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The living room was packed with about two dozen guests seated on chairs placed along the walls. When Baba entered, everybody stood up. We went around the room, Baba leading slowly, me behind him, shaking hands and greeting the guests. The general -- still in his gray suit -- and Baba embraced, gently tapping each other on the back. They said their Salaams in respectful hushed tones.

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The general held me at arm's length and smiled knowingly, as if saying, "Now, this is the right way -- the Afghan way -- to do it, bachem." We kissed three times on the cheek.

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We sat in the crowded room, Baba and I next to each other, across from the general and his wife. Baba's breathing had grown a little ragged, and he kept wiping sweat off his forehead and scalp with his handkerchief. He saw me looking at him and managed a strained grin. I'm all right," he mouthed.

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In keeping with tradition, Soraya was not present.

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追风筝的人 | 第十三章

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