殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(43)

"No monster," I said, feeling a little better, to my own surprise.

"沒有鬼怪。"我低聲說，出乎意料的是我竟然覺得好些了。

He smiled. "No monster."

他微笑:"沒有鬼怪。"

"Are you sure?"

"你確定?"

He closed his eyes. Nodded.

他閉上雙眼，點點頭。

I looked to the kids scampering down the street, flinging snowballs. "It is a beautiful day, isn't it?"

我看着那些在街道躥上躥下打雪仗的孩子，"今天是個好日子，對吧?"

"Let's fly," he said.

"我們來放風箏吧。"他說。

It occurred to me then that maybe Hassan had made up his dream. Was that possible? I decided it wasn't. Hassan wasn't that smart. I wasn't that smart. But made up or not, the silly dream had lifted some of my anxiety. Maybe I should take off my shirt, take a swim in the lake. Why not?

當時我覺得哈桑那個夢可能是他編出來的。那可能嗎?我確定不是，哈桑沒那麼聰明，我也沒那麼聰明。但不管是否是編造的，那個愚蠢的夢緩解了我的焦慮。興許我該除去衣服，到湖裏去遊一遊。爲什麼不呢?

"Let's do it,"I said.

"我們來放。"我說。

Hassan's face brightened. "Good,"he said. He lifted our kite, red with yellow borders, and, just beneath where the central and cross spars met, marked with Saifo's unmistakable signature. He licked his finger and held it up, tested the wind, then ran in its direction-on those rare occasions we flew kites in the summer, he'd kick up dust to see which way the wind blew it. The spool rolled in my hands until Hassan stopped, about fifty feet away. He held the kite high over his head, like an Olympic athlete showing his gold medal. I jerked the string twice, our usual signal, and Hassan tossed the kite.

哈桑神色一振:"好啊!"他舉起我們的風箏：紅色的風箏，鑲着黃邊，在豎軸和橫軸交叉的地方，有塞弗的親筆簽名。他舔舔手指，把它舉起，測試風向，然後順風跑去。我們偶爾也在夏天放風箏，他會踢起灰塵，看風吹向什麼方位。我手裏的卷軸轉動着，直到哈桑停下來，大約在五十英尺開外。他將風箏高舉過頂，彷彿一個奧運會的田徑運動員高舉獲得的金牌。按照我們往常的信號，我猛拉兩次線，哈桑放開了風箏。

Caught between Baba and the mullahs at school, I still hadn't made up my mind about God. But when a Koran ayat I had learned in my diniyat class rose to my lips, I muttered it. I took a deep breath, exhaled, and pulled on the string. Within a minute, my kite was rocketing to the sky. It made a sound like a paper bird flapping its wings. Hassan clapped his hands, whistled, and ran back to me. I handed him the spool, holding on to the string, and he spun it quickly to roll the loose string back on.

雖說爸爸和學校的老師誨我不倦，我終究無法對真主死心塌地。可是當時，從教義答問課程學到的某段《可蘭經》涌上嘴邊，我低聲唸誦，然後深深吸氣，呼氣，跟着拉線跑開。不消一分鐘，我的風箏扶搖直上，發出宛如鳥兒撲打翅膀的聲音。哈桑拍掌稱好，跑在我身後。我把卷軸交給他，雙手拉緊風箏線，他敏捷地將那鬆弛的線捲起來。

At least two dozen kites already hung in the sky, like paper sharks roaming for prey. Within an hour, the number doubled, and red, blue, and yellow kites glided and spun in the sky. A cold breeze wafted through my hair. The wind was perfect for kite flying, blowing just hard enough to give some lift, make the sweeps easier. Next to me, Hassan held the spool, his hands already bloodied by the string.

空中已經掛着至少二十來只風箏，如同紙製的鯊魚，巡遊搜獵食物。不到一個鐘頭，這個數字翻了一番，紅色的、藍色的、黃色的風箏在蒼穹來回飛舞，熠熠生輝。寒冷的微風吹過我的頭髮。這風正適宜放風箏，風速不大，恰好能讓風箏飄浮起來，也便於操控。哈桑在我身旁，幫忙拿着卷軸，手掌已被線割得鮮血淋漓。

Soon, the cutting started and the first of the defeated kites whirled out of control. They fell from the sky like shooting stars with brilliant, rippling tails, showering the neighborhoods below with prizes for the kite runners. I could hear the runners now, hollering as they ran the streets. Someone shouted reports of a fight breaking out two streets down.

頃刻間，割線開始了，第一批被挫敗的風箏斷了線，迴旋着跌落下來。它們像流星那樣劃過蒼天，拖着閃亮的尾巴，散落在臨近的街區，給追風箏的人帶來獎賞。我能聽得見那些追風箏的人，高聲叫嚷，奔過大街小巷。有人扯開喉嚨，報告說有兩條街上爆發衝突了。