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to open my mouth。 Forgot about the wires again。
The worst laceration was on your upper lip； Armand said。 The impact had cut your upper lip in two； clean down the mid dle。 But not to worry； the plastics guys sewed it back together and they think you will have an excellent result； though there will be a scar。 That is unavoidable。
There was also an orbital fracture on the left side； that s the eye socket bone； and we had to fix that too。 The wires in your jaws will e out in about six weeks； Armand said。 Until then it s liq uids and shakes。 You will lose some weight and you will be talking like Al Pacino from the first Godfather
movie for a little while。 He laughed。 But you have a job to do today。 Do you know what it is？
I shook my head。
Your job today is to pass gas。 You do that and we can start feeding you liquids。 No fart； no food。 He laughed again。
Later； after Aisha changed the IV tubing and raised the head of the bed like I d asked； I thought about what had happened to me。 Ruptured spleen。 Broken teeth。 Punctured lung。 Busted eye socket。 But as I watched a pigeon peck at a bread crumb on the windowsill； I kept thinking of something else Armand/Dr。 Faruqi had said： The impact had cut your upper lip in two； he had said； clean down the middle。 Clean down the middle。 Like a harelip。
FARID AND SOHRAB came to visit the next day。 Do you know who we are today？ Do you remember？ Farid said； only half…jokingly。 I nodded。
Al hamdullellah！ he said； beaming。 No more talking non sense。
Thank you； Farid； I said through jaws wired shut。 Armand was right……I did sound like Al Pacino from The Godfather。 And my tongue surprised me every time it poked in one of the empty spaces left by the teeth I had swallowed。 I mean； thank you。 For everything。
He waved a hand； blushed a little。 Bas； it s not worthy of thanks； he said。 I turned to Sohrab。 He was wearing a new outfit； light brown pirhan…tumban that looked a bit big for him； and a black skullcap。 He was looking down at his feet； toying with the IV line coiled on the bed。
We were never properly introduced； I said。 I offered him my hand。 I am Amir。
He looked at my hand； then to me。 You are the Amir agha Father told me about？ he said。
Yes。 I remembered the words from Hassan s letter。 I have told much about you to Farzana jan and Sohrab； about us growing up together and playing games and running in the streets。 They laugh at the stories of all the mischief you and I used to cause！ I owe you thanks too； Sohrab jan； I said。 You saved my life。
He didn t say anything。 I dropped my hand when he didn t take it。 I like your new clothes； I mumbled。
They re my son s； Farid said。 He has outgrown them。 They fit Sohrab pretty well； I would say。 Sohrab could stay with him； he said； until we found a place for him。 We don t have a lot of room； but what can I do？ I can t leave him to the streets。 Besides； my children have taken a liking to him。 Ha； Sohrab？ But the boy just kept looking down； twirling the line with his finger。
I ve been meaning to ask； Farid said； a little hesitantly。 What happened in that house？ What happened between you and the Talib？
Let s just say we both got what we deserved； I said。
Farid nodded； didn t push it。 It occurred to me that somewhere between the time we had left Peshawar for Afghanistan and now； we had bee friends。 I ve been meaning to ask something too。
What？
I didn t want to ask。 I was afraid of the answer。 Rahim Khan； I said。
He s gone。
My heart skipped。 Is he……
No； just。。。 gone。 He handed me a folded piece of paper and a small key。 The l