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the kite runner-第143章

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be away a week; two at the most。 I d been gone for nearly a month。 I smiled。  And tell Khala Jamila to stop killing sheep。 
 What do you mean  fine now ? And what s wrong with your voice? 
 Don t worry about that for now。 I m fine。 Really。 Soraya; I have a story to tell you; a story I should have told you a long time ago; but first I need to tell you one thing。 
 What is it?  she said; her voice lower now; more cautious。
 I m not ing home alone。 I m bringing a little boy with me。  I paused。  I want us to adopt him。 
 What? 
I checked my watch。  I have fifty…seven minutes left on this stupid calling card and I have so much to tell you。 Sit some where。  I heard the legs of a chair dragged hurriedly across the wooden floor。
 Go ahead;  she said。
Then I did what I hadn t done in fifteen years of marriage: I told my wife everything。 Everything。 I had pictured this moment so many times; dreaded it; but; as I spoke; I felt something lifting off my chest。 I imagined Soraya had experienced something very similar the night of our khastegari; when she d told me about her past。
By the time I was done with my story; she was weeping。
 What do you think?  I said。
 I don t know what to think; Amir。 You ve told me so much all at once。 
 I realize that。 
I heard her blowing her nose。  But I know this much: You have to bring him home。 I want you to。 
 Are you sure?  I said; closing my eyes and smiling。
 Am I sure?  she said。  Amir; he s your qaom; your family; so he s my qaom too。 Of course I m sure。 You can t leave him to the streets。  There was a short pause。  What s he like? 
I looked over at Sohrab sleeping on the bed。  He s sweet; in a solemn kind of way。 
 Who can blame him?  she said。  I want to see him; Amir。 I really do。 
 Soraya? 
 Yeah。 
 Dostet darum。  I love you。
 I love you back;  she said。 I could hear the smile in her words。  And be careful。 
 I will。 And one more thing。 Don t tell your parents who he is。 If they need to know; it should e from me。 
 Okay。 
We hung up。
THE LAWN OUTSIDE the American embassy in Islamabad was neatly mowed; dotted with circular clusters of flowers; bordered by razor…straight hedges。 The building itself was like a lot of buildings in Islamabad: flat and white。 We passed through several road blocks to get there and three different security officials conducted a body search on me after the wires in my jaws set off the metal
detectors。 When we finally stepped in from the heat; the airconditioning hit my face like a splash of ice water。 The secretary in the lobby; a fifty…something; lean…faced blond woman; smiled when I gave her my name。 She wore a beige blouse and black slacks……the first woman I d seen in weeks dressed in something other than a burqa or a shalwar…kameez。 She looked me up on the appointment list; tapping the eraser end of her pencil on the desk。 She found my name and asked me to take a seat。
 Would you like some lemonade?  she asked。
 None for me; thanks;  I said。
 How about your son? 
 Excuse me? 
 The handsome young gentleman;  she said; smiling at Sohrab。
 Oh。 That d be nice; thank you。 
Sohrab and I sat on the black leather sofa across the reception desk; next to a tall American flag。 Sohrab picked up a magazine from the glass…top coffee table。 He flipped the pages; not really looking at the pictures。
 What?  Sohrab said。
 Sorry? 
 You re smiling。 
 I was thinking about you;  I said。
He gave a nervous smile。 Picked up another magazine and flipped through it in under thirty seconds。
 Don t be afraid;  I said; touching his arm。  These people are friendly。 Relax。  I could have used my own ad
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