殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(81)

“Just go.” He had me park at the south end of the street. He reached in his coat pocket and handed me a set of keys. “There,” he said, pointing to the car in front of us. It was an old model Ford, long and wide, a dark color I couldn’t discern in the moon light. “It needs painting, and I’ll have one of the guys at the station put in new shocks, but it runs.”
I took the keys, stunned. I looked from him to the car.
“You’ll need it to go to college,” he said.
I took his hand in mine. Squeezed it. My eyes were tearing over and I was glad for the shadows that hid our faces. “Thank you, Baba.”
We got out and sat inside the Ford. It was a Grand Torino. Navy blue, Baba said. I drove it around the block, testing the brakes, the radio, the turn signals. I parked it in the lot of our apartment building and shut off the engine. “Tashakor, Baba jan,” I said. I wanted to say more, tell him how touched I was by his act of kindness, how much I appreciated all that he had done for me, all that he was still doing. But I knew I’d embarrass him. “Tashakor,” I repeated instead.
He smiled and leaned back against the headrest, his forehead almost touching the ceiling. We didn’t say anything. Just sat in the dark, listened to the tink-tink of the engine cooling, the wail of a siren in the distance. Then Baba rolled his head toward me. “I wish Hassan had been with us today,” he said.
A pair of steel hands closed around my windpipe at the sound of Hassan’s name. I rolled down the window. Waited for the steel hands to loosen their grip.
I WOULD ENROLL in junior college classes in the fall, I told Baba the day after graduation. He was drinking cold black tea and chewing cardamom seeds, his personal trusted antidote for hang over headaches.
“I think I’ll major in English,” I said. I winced inside, waiting for his reply.
“English?”
“Creative writing.”
He considered this. Sipped his tea. “Stories, you mean. You’ll make up stories.” I looked down at my feet.
“They pay for that, making up stories?”
“If you’re good,” I said. “And if you get discovered.”
“How likely is that, getting discovered?”
“It happens,” I said.
He nodded. “And what will you do while you wait to get good and get discovered? How will you earn money? If you marry, how will you support your khanum?”
I couldn’t lift my eyes to meet his. “I’ll... find a job.”
“Oh,” he said. “Wah wah! So, if I understand, you’ll study several years to earn a degree, then you’ll get a chatti job like mine, one you could just as easily land today, on the small chance that your degree might someday help you get... discovered.” He took a deep breath and sipped his tea. Grunted something about medical school, law school, and “real work.”
My cheeks burned and guilt coursed through me, the guilt of indulging myself at the expense of his ulcer, his black fingernails and aching wrists. But I would stand my ground, I decided. I didn’t want to sacrifice for Baba anymore. The last time I had done that, I had damned myself.
Baba sighed and, this time, tossed a whole handful of car damom seeds in his mouth.

“只管開過去，”他讓我停在街道的南端。他把手伸進外衣的口袋，掏給我一串鑰匙，“那邊。”他指着停在我們前面的一輛轎車。那是一輛舊款的福特，又長又寬，車身很暗，在月光下我辨認不出是什麼顏色。“它得烤漆，我會讓加油站的夥計換上新的避震器，但它還能開。”
我看着鑰匙，驚呆了。我看看他，看看轎車。
“你上大學需要一輛車。”他說。
我捧起他的手，緊緊握住。淚水從我眼裏涌出來，我慶幸陰影籠罩了我們的面龐。“謝謝你，爸爸。”
我們下車，坐進福特車。那是一輛“大都靈”。“海軍藍。”爸爸說。我繞着街區開，試試剎車、收音機、轉向燈。我把它停在我們那棟樓的停車場，熄了引擎。“謝謝你，親愛的爸爸。”我說。我意猶未盡，想告訴他，他慈祥的行爲讓我多麼感動，我多麼感激他過去和現在爲我所做的一切。但我知道那會讓他不好意思,“謝謝。”我只是重複了一次。
他微微一笑，靠在頭枕上，他的前額幾乎碰到頂篷。我們什麼也沒說，靜靜坐在黑暗中，聽着引擎冷卻的“嘀嘀”聲，遠處傳來一陣警笛的鳴叫。然後爸爸將頭轉向我,“要是哈桑今天跟我們在一起就好了。”
聽到哈桑的名字，我的脖子好像被一對鐵手掐住了。我把車窗搖下，等待那雙鐵手鬆開。
畢業典禮隔日，我告訴爸爸，秋天我就要去專科學校註冊了。他正在喝冷卻的紅茶，嚼着豆蔻子，他自己用來治頭痛的偏方。
“我想我會主修英文。”我說，內心忐忑，等着他的回答。
“英文?”
“創作。”
他想了想，啜他的紅茶,“故事，你是說，你要寫故事?”我低頭看着自己的雙腳。
“寫故事能賺錢嗎?”
“如果你寫得好，”我說，“而且又被人發掘的話。”
“被人發掘?機會有多大?”
“有機會的。”我說。
他點點頭。“那你在寫得好和被人發掘之前準備幹什麼呢?你怎麼賺錢?要是結婚了，你怎麼撐起自己的家庭?”
我不敢看着他的眼睛,“我會……找份工作。”
“哦!”他說，“哇!哇!這麼說，如果我沒理解錯，你將會花好幾年，拿個學位，然後你會找一份像我這樣卑微的工作，一份你今天可以輕易找到的工作，就爲渺茫的機會，等待你拿的學位也許某天會幫助你……被人發掘。”他深深呼吸，啜他的紅茶，咕噥地說着什麼醫學院、法學院，還有“真正的工作”。
我臉上發燒，一陣罪惡感涌上心頭。我很負疚，我的放縱是他的潰瘍、黑指甲和痠痛的手腕換來的。但我會堅持自己的立場，我決定了。我不想再爲爸爸犧牲了。這是最後一次了，我咒罵自己。
爸爸嘆氣，這一次，扔了一大把豆蔻子到嘴裏。