殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(74)

TOOR’S BAD LUCK. Hadn’t I overheard that in a snippet of conversation back at Mahipar?
We rolled into Jalalabad about an hour before sunrise. Karim ushered us quickly from the truck into a one-story house at the intersection of two dirt roads lined with flat one-story homes, acacia trees, and closed shops. I pulled the collar of my coat against the chill as we hurried into the house, dragging our belongings. For some reason, I remember smelling radishes.
Once he had us inside the dimly lit, bare living room, Karim locked the front door, pulled the tattered sheets that passed for curtains. Then he took a deep breath and gave us the bad news: His brother Toor couldn’t take us to Peshawar. It seemed his truck’s engine had blown the week before and Toor was still waiting for parts.
“Last week?” someone exclaimed. “If you knew this, why did you bring us here?”
I caught a flurry of movement out of the corner of my eye. Then a blur of something zipping across the room, and the next thing I saw was Karim slammed against the wall, his sandaled feet dangling two feet above the floor. Wrapped around his neck were Baba’s hands.
“I’ll tell you why,” Baba snapped. “Because he got paid for his leg of the trip. That’s all he cared about.” Karim was making guttural choking sounds. Spittle dripped from the corner of his mouth.
“Put him down, Agha, you’re killing him,” one of the passengers said.
“It’s what I intend to do,” Baba said. What none of the others in the room knew was that Baba wasn’t joking. Karim was turning red and kicking his legs. Baba kept choking him until the young mother, the one the Russian officer had fancied, begged him to stop.
Karim collapsed on the floor and rolled around fighting for air when Baba finally let go. The room fell silent. Less than two hours ago, Baba had volunteered to take a bullet for the honor of a woman he didn’t even know. Now he’d almost choked a man to death, would have done it cheerfully if not for the pleas of that same woman.
Something thumped next door. No, not next door, below.
“What’s that?” someone asked.
“The others,” Karim panted between labored breaths. “In the basement.”
“How long have they been waiting?” Baba said, standing over Karim.
“Two weeks.”

圖爾的黴運。在瑪希帕那邊，我不是從短暫的交談中聽到過這句話嗎?
大約在太陽上山之前一個鐘頭，我們駛進了賈拉拉巴特。卡林匆匆將我們從卡車領進一座房子。那是單層的平房，位於兩條土路的交叉處，路的兩邊是平房，還有沒開門的商店，種着合歡樹。我們拖着行李走進屋子裏頭，我拉起衣領，以抵禦嚴寒。不知道爲什麼，我記得有蘿蔔的味道。
我們剛進入那間昏暗且一無所有的房間，卡林就把前門鎖上，拉上那代替窗簾的破布。跟着他深深吸了一口氣，告訴我們壞消息。他的兄弟圖爾沒法送我們去白沙瓦。上個星期，他那卡車的發動機壞了，圖爾還在等零件。
“上星期?”有人叫道，“要是你知道這事情，爲什麼還把我們帶到這裏來?”
我用眼角的餘光瞥見一陣急遽的動作。隨後有個模糊的身影穿過房間，接下來我看到的事情是，卡林猛然撞在牆上，爸爸的雙手掐住他的脖子。
“我來告訴你們爲什麼，”爸爸憤怒地說，“因爲他要賺這一程的車費，他只在乎這個。”卡林發出哽咽的聲音，唾液從嘴角流出來。
“把他放下來，老爺，你會殺了他的。”有個乘客說。
“我正要這麼做。”爸爸說。這個屋子裏面其他人所不知道的是，爸爸並非在開玩笑。卡林臉色漲紅，雙腳亂踢。爸爸仍掐着他，直到那個年輕的媽媽，被俄國兵看中那個，求他放手。
爸爸終於放手，卡林癱倒在地板上，翻滾喘氣，房間安靜下來。不到兩個鐘頭之前，爲了一個素昧平生的女子的清白，爸爸甘願吃一顆子彈。而如今，若非同一個女人的求情，他會毫不猶豫地將一個漢子掐死。
隔壁傳來一陣敲打的聲音。不，不是隔壁，是地下。
“那是什麼?”有人問。
“其他人，”卡林呼吸艱難地喘息着，“在地下室。”
“他們等多久了?”爸爸說，眼睛盯着卡林。
“兩個星期。”