殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(21)

An hour Later, as the evening sky dimmed, the two of them drove off in my father's car to attend a party. On his way out, Rahim Khan hunkered before me and handed me my story and another folded piece of paper. He flashed a smile and winked. "For you. Read it later."Then he paused and added a single word that did more to encourage me to pursue writing than any compliment any editor has ever paid me. That word was "Bravo".

過了一個鐘頭，夜色更加黯淡了。他們兩個開着爸爸的轎車去參加派對。拉辛汗快出門的時候，在我身前蹲下來，遞給我那篇故事，還有另外一張摺好 的紙。他亮起微笑，還眨眨眼。"給你，等會再看。"然後他停下來，加了一個詞：太棒了!就鼓勵我寫作而言，這個詞比如今任何編輯的恭維給了我更 多的勇氣。

When they left, I sat on my bed and wished Rahim Khan had been my father. Then I thought of Baba and his great big chest and how good it felt when he held me against it, how he smelled of Brut in the morning, and how his beard tickled my face. I was overcome with such sudden guilt that I bolted to the bathroom and vomited in the sink.

他們離開了，我坐在自己的牀上，心裏想要是拉辛汗是我父親就好了。隨後我想起爸爸，還有他寬廣的胸膛，他抱着我的時候，靠着它感覺多好啊。我 想起每天早晨他身上甜甜的酒味，想起他用鬍子扎我的臉蛋。一陣突如其來的罪惡感將我淹沒，我跑進衛生間，在水槽裏吐了。

Later that night, curled up in bed, I read Rahim Khan's note over and over. It read like this:

那夜稍晚的時候，我蜷縮在牀上，一遍遍讀着拉辛汗的字條。他寫道：

Amir jan,

親愛的阿米爾：

I enjoyed your story very much. "Mashallah", God has granted you a special talent. It is now your duty to hone that talent, because a person who wastes his God-given talents is a donkey. You have written your story with sound grammar and interesting style. But the most impressive thing about your story is that it has irony. You may not even know what that word means. But you will someday. It is something that some writers reach for their entire careers and never attain. You have achieved it with your first story.

我非常喜歡你的故事。我的天，真主賦予你獨特的天分。如今你的責任是磨鍊這份天才，因爲將真主給予的天分白白浪費的人是蠢驢。你寫的故事語法 正確，風格引人入勝。但最令人難忘的是，你的故事飽含諷刺的意味。你也許還不懂得諷刺是什麼，但你以後會懂的。有些作家奮鬥終生，對它夢寐以求，然而 徒喚奈何。你的第一篇故事已經達到了。

My door is and always will be open to you, Amir jan. I shall hear any story you have to tell. Bravo.

我的大門永遠爲你開着，親愛的阿米爾。我願意傾聽你訴說的任何故事。太棒了!

Your friend,

你的朋友，

Rahim

拉辛

Buoyed by Rahim Khan's note, I grabbed the story and hurried downstairs to the foyer where Ali and Hassan were sleeping on a mattress. That was the only time they slept in the house, when Baba was away and Ali had to watch over me. I shook Hassan awake and asked him if he wanted to hear a story.

拉辛汗的字條讓我飄飄然，我抓起那篇故事，直奔樓下而去，衝到門廊。阿里和哈桑睡在那兒的地毯上。只有當爸爸外出，阿里不得不照看我的時候， 他們纔會睡在屋子裏。我把哈桑搖醒，問他是否願意聽個故事。

He rubbed his sleep-clogged eyes and stretched. "Now? What time is it?"

他揉揉惺忪的睡眼，伸伸懶腰:"現在嗎?幾點了?"

"Never mind the time. This story's special. I wrote it myself,"I whispered, hoping not to wake Ali. Hassan's face brightened.

"別問幾點了。這個故事很特別，我自己寫的。"我不想吵醒阿里，低聲說。哈桑臉上神色一振。

"Then I have to hear it," he said, already pulling the blanket off him.

"那我一定要聽聽。"他拉開蓋在身上的毛毯，說道。