the kite runner-第103章

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He　shrugged　and　said　nothing。
　Of　course；　　Farid　said。　　I　ll　pick　him　up　just　before　evening　_namaz_。　
THERE　WERE　THREE　OTHER　PATIENTS　in　my　room。　Two　older　men；　one　with　a　cast　on　his　leg；　the　other　wheezing　with　asthma；　and　a　young　man　of　fifteen　or　sixteen　who　d　had　appendix　surgery。　The　old　guy　in　the　cast　stared　at　us　without　blinking；　his　eyes　switching　from　me　to　the　Hazara　boy　sitting　on　a　stool。　My　roommates　　families……old　women　in　bright　shalwar…kameezes；　children；　men　wearing　skullcaps……shuffled　noisily　in　and　out　of　the　room。　They　brought　with　them　pakoras；　_naan_；　sa；nosas；　biryani。　Sometimes　people　just　wandered　into　the　room；　like　the　tall；　bearded　man　who　walked　in　just　before　Farid　and　Sohrab　arrived。　He　wore　a　brown　blanket　wrapped　around　him。　Aisha　asked　him　something　in　Urdu。　He　paid　her　no　attention　and　scanned　the　room　with　his　eyes。　I　thought　he　looked　at　me　a　little　longer　than　necessary。　When　the　nurse　spoke　to　him　again；　he　just　spun　around　and　left。
　How　are　you？　　I　asked　Sohrab。　He　shrugged；　looked　at　his　hands。
　Are　you　hungry？　That　lady　there　gave　me　a　plate　of　biryani；　but　I　can　t　eat　it；　　I　said。　I　didn　t　know　what　else　to　say　to　him。　　You　want　it？　
He　shook　his　head。
　Do　you　want　to　talk？　
He　shook　his　head　again。
We　sat　there　like　that　for　a　while；　silent；　me　propped　up　in　bed；　two　pillows　behind　my　back；　Sohrab　on　the　three…legged　stool　next　to　the　bed。　I　fell　asleep　at　some　point；　and；　when　I　woke　up；　daylight　had　dimmed　a　bit；　the　shadows　had
stretched；　and　Sohrab　was　still　sitting　next　to　me。　He　was　still　looking　down　at　his　hands。
THAT　NIGHT；　after　Farid　picked　up　Sohrab；　I　unfolded　Rahim　Khan　s　letter。　I　had　delayed　reading　it　as　long　as　possible。　It　read：
Amirjan；　_Inshallah_；　you　have　reached　this　letter　safely。　I　pray　that　I　have　not　put　you　in　harm　s　way　and　that　Afghanistan　has　not　been　too　unkind　to　you。　You　have　been　in　my　prayers　since　the　day　you　left。　You　were　right　all　those　years　to　suspect　that　I　knew。　I　did　know。　Hassan　told　me　shortly　after　it　happened。　What　you　did　was　wrong；　Amir　jan；　but　do　not　forget　that　you　were　a　boy　when　it　happened。　A　troubled　little　boy。　You　were　too　hard　on　yourself　then；　and　you　still　are……I　saw　it　in　your　eyes　in　Peshawar。　But　I　hope　you　will　heed　this：　A　man　who　has　no　conscience；　no　goodness；　does　not　suffer。　I　hope　your　suffering　es　to　an　end　with　this　journey　to　Afghanistan。
Amir　jan；　I　am　ashamed　for　the　lies　we　told　you　all　those　years。　You　were　right　to　be　angry　in　Peshawar。　You　had　a　right　to　know。　So　did　Hassan。　I　know　it　doesn　t　absolve　anyone　of　anything；　but　the　Kabul　we　lived　in　in　those　days　was　a　strange　world；　one　in　which　some　things　mattered　more　than　the　truth。
Amir　jan；　I　know　how　hard　your　father　was　on　you　when　you　were　growing　up。　I　saw　how　you　suffered　and　yearned　for　his　affections；　and　my　heart　bled　for　you。　But　your　father　was　a　man　torn　between　two　halves；　Amir　jan：
you　and　Hassan。　He　loved　you　both；　but　he　could　not　love　Hassan　the　way　he　longed　to；　openly；　and　as　a　father。　So　he　took　it　out　on　you　instead……Amir；　the　socially　legitimate　half；　the　half　that　represented　the　riches　he　had　inherited　and　the　sin…with…impunity　privileges　that　came　with　them。　When　he　saw　you；　he　saw　himself。　And　his　guilt。　You　are　still　angry　and　I　realize　it　is　far　too　early　to　expect　you　to　accept　this；　but　maybe　someday　you　will　see　that　when　your　father　was　hard　on　you；　he　was　also　being　hard　on　himself。　Your　father；　like　you；　was　a　tortured　soul；　Amir　jan。
I　cannot　describe　to　you　the　depth　and　blackness　of　the　sorrow　that　came　over　me　when　I　learned　of　his　passing。　I　loved　him　because　he　was　my　friend；　but　also　because　he　was　a　good　man；　maybe　even　a　great　man。　And　this　is　what　I　want　you　to　understand；　that　good；　real　good；　was　born　out　of　your　father　s　remorse。　Sometimes；　I　think　everything　he　did；　feeding　the　poor　on　the　streets；　building　the　orphanage；　giving　money　to　friends　in　need；　it　was　all　his　way　of　redeeming　himself。　And　that；　I　believe；　is　what　true　redemption　is；　Amir　jan；　when　guilt　leads　to　good。
I　know　that　in　the　end；　God　will　forgive。　He　will　forgive　your　father；　me；　and　you　too。　I　hope　you　can　do　the　same。　Forgive　your　father　if　you　can。　Forgive　me　if　you　wish。　But；　most　important；　forgive　yourself。
I　have　left　you　some　money；　most　of　what　I　have　left；　in　fact。　I　think　you　may　have　some　expenses　when　you　return　here；　and　the　money　should　be　enough　to　cover　them。　There　is　a　bank　in　Peshawar；　Farid　knows　the　location。　The　money　is　in　a　safe…deposit　box。　I　have　given　you　the　key。
As　for　me；　it　is　time　to　go。　I　have　little　time　left　and　I　wish