第八章 - 追风筝的人 - 蜗牛双语阅读

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追风筝的人 | 第八章

2/24

I didn't say anything. Just kept pushing the egg around on my plate.

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"Did something happen to him, Amir agha? Something he's not telling me?"

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I shrugged. "How should I know?"

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"You would tell me, nay? Inshallah, you would tell me if some thing had happened?"

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"Like I said, how should I know what's wrong with him?" I snapped. "Maybe he's sick. People get sick all the time, Ali. Now, am I going to freeze to death or are you planning on lighting the stove today?"

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That night I asked Baba if we could go to Jalalabad on Friday. He was rocking on the leather swivel chair behind his desk, reading a newspaper. He put it down, took off the reading glasses I disliked so much -- Baba wasn't old, not at all, and he had lots of years left to live, so why did he have to wear those stupid glasses?

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"Why not!" he said. Lately, Baba agreed to everything I asked. Not only that, just two nights before, he'd asked me if I wanted to see El Cid with Charlton Heston at Cinema Aryana. "Do you want to ask Hassan to come along to Jalalabad?"

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追风筝的人 | 第八章

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