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殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(46)

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Then I was screaming, and everything was color and sound, everything was Alive and good. I was throwing my free arm around Hassan and we were hopping up and down, both of us laughing, both of us weeping. "You won, Amir agha! You won!"

然後我高聲尖叫,一切都是那麼色彩斑斕、那麼悅耳動聽,一切都是那麼鮮活、那麼美好。我伸出空手抱着哈桑,我們跳上跳下,我們兩個都笑着、哭着。"你贏了,阿米爾少爺!你贏了!"

"We won! We won!" was all I could say. This wasn't happening. In a moment, I'd blink and rouse from this beautiful dream, get out of bed, march down to the kitchen to eat breakfast with no one to talk to but Hassan. Get dressed. Wait for Baba. Give up. Back to my old life. Then I saw Baba on our roof. He was standing on the edge, pumping both of his fists. Hollering and clapping. And that right there was the single greatest moment of my twelve years of life, seeing Baba on that roof, proud of me at last.

"我們贏了!我們贏了!"我只說出這句話。這是真的嗎?在過去的日子裏,我眨眨眼,從美夢中醒來,起牀,下樓到廚房去吃早餐,除了哈桑沒人跟我說話。穿好衣服。等爸爸。放棄。回到我原來的生活。然後我看到爸爸在我們的屋頂上,他站在屋頂邊緣,雙拳揮舞,高聲歡呼,拍掌稱快。就在那兒,我體驗到有生以來最棒的一刻,看見爸爸站在屋頂上,終於以我爲榮。

殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(46)

But he was doing something now, motioning with his hands in an urgent way. Then I understood. "Hassan, we--"

但他似乎在做別的事情,雙手焦急地搖動。於是我明白了,"哈桑,我們……"

"I know," he said, breaking our embrace. "Inshallah, we'll celebrate later. Right now, I'm going to run that blue kite for you," he said. He dropped the spool and took off running, the hem of his green chapan dragging in the snow behind him.

"我知道,"他從我們的擁抱中掙脫,"安拉保佑,我們等會再慶祝吧。現在,我要去幫你追那隻藍風箏。"他放下卷軸,撒腿就跑,他穿的那件綠色長袍的後褶邊拖在雪地上。

"Hassan!" I called. "Come back with it!"

"哈桑!"我大喊,"把它帶回來!"

He was already turning the street corner, his rubber boots kicking up snow. He stopped, turned. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "For you a thousand times over!" he said. Then he smiled his Hassan smile and disappeared around the corner. The next time I saw him smile unabashedly like that was twenty-six years later, in a faded Polaroid photograph.

他的橡膠靴子踢起陣陣雪花,已經飛奔到街道的拐角處。他停下來,轉身,雙手放在嘴邊,說:"爲你,千千萬萬遍!"然後露出一臉哈桑式的微笑,消失在街角之後。再一次看到他笑得如此燦爛,已是二十六年之後,在一張褪色的寶麗萊照片上。

I began to pull my kite back as people rushed to congratulate me. I shook hands with them, said my thanks. The younger kids looked at me with an awestruck twinkle in their eyes; I was a hero. Hands patted my back and tousled my hair. I pulled on the string and returned every smile, but my mind was on the blue kite.

人羣涌上來向我道賀,我開始把風箏收回來。我跟他們握手,向他們道謝。那些比我更小的孩童望着我的眼神充滿敬畏,我是個英雄。人們伸手拍拍我的後背,摸摸我的頭髮。我邊拉着線,邊朝每個人微笑,但我的心思在那個藍風箏上。

Finally, I had my kite in hand. I wrapped the loose string that had collected at my feet around the spool, shook a few more hands, and trotted Home. When I reached the wrought-iron gates, Ali was waiting on the other side. He stuck his hand through the bars. "Congratulations," he said.

最後,我收回了自己的風箏。我撿起腳下的卷軸,把鬆弛的線收好,期間又握了幾雙手,接着走回家。走到那扇鍛鐵大門時,阿里在門後等着,他從柵欄伸出手,"恭喜。"

I gave him my kite and spool, shook his hand. "Tashakor, Ali jan."

我把風箏和卷軸給他,握握他的手,"謝謝你,親愛的阿里。"

"I was praying for you the whole time."

"我一直爲你祈禱。"

"Then keep praying. We're not done yet."

"繼續祈禱吧,我們還沒全贏呢。"

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