THEY WEREN'T SHOOTING ducks after all. As it turned out, they hadn't shot much of anything that night of July 17, 1973. Kabul awoke the next morning to find that the monarchy was a thing of the past. The king, Zahir Shah, was away in Italy. In his absence, his cousin Daoud Khan had ended the king's forty-year reign with a bloodless coup.
他们根本不是在猎杀野鸭。真相终于大白：1973年7月17日夜里，他们根本就没有对什么东西开枪。翌日清晨，大梦初醒的喀布尔发现君主制已然成为历史。查希尔国王远在意大利，他的堂兄达乌德汗（MohammedDaoudKhan1909～1978，1973年起任阿富汗共和国总统，直到1978年被刺杀）趁他不在，发动了政变，没有多加杀戮，就终结了他四十年来的统治。

I remember Hassan and I crouching that next morning outside my father's study, as Baba and Rahim Khan sipped black tea and listened to breaking news of the coup on Radio Kabul.
我记得隔日早上，爸爸和拉辛汗喝着红茶，听着喀布尔广播电台播送的有关政变的最新消息，我跟哈桑躲在爸爸的书房外面。

"Amir agha?"Hassan whispered.
"阿米尔少爷?"哈桑低声说。

"What?"
"怎么啦?"

"What's a 'republic'?"
"什么是'共和'?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."On Baba's radio, they were saying that word, "republic",over and over again.
我耸耸肩:"我不懂。"爸爸的收音机一遍又一遍地传出"共和"这个词。

"Amir agha?"
"阿米尔少爷?"

"What?"
"怎么啦?"

"Does 'republic'mean Father and I will have to move away?"
"'共和'是不是要我和爸爸离开这里?"

"I don't think so,"I whispered back.
"我觉得不是。"我低声回答。

Hassan considered this. "Amir agha?"
哈桑想了想，说:"阿米尔少爷?"

"What?"
"什么呀?"

"I don't want them to send me and Father away."
"我不想他们把我跟爸爸送走。"

I smiled. "Bas, you donkey. No one's sending you away."
我露出微笑:"好啦，你这头驴子，没有人会送走你们。"

"Amir agha?"
"阿米尔少爷?"

"What?"
"什么呀?"

"Do you want to go climb our tree?"
"你想去爬我们的树吗?"

My smile broadened. That was another thing about Hassan. He always knew when to say the right thing--the news on the radio was getting pretty boring. Hassan went to his shack to get ready and I ran upstairs to grab a book. Then I went to the kitchen, stuffed my pockets with handfuls of pine nuts, and ran outside to find Hassan waiting for me. We burst through the front gates and headed for the hill.
我笑得更开心了。这也是哈桑的本领，他总是懂得在恰当的时间说恰当的事情--收音机的新闻实在是太闷了。哈桑回到他那寒碜的屋子去做准备，我跑上楼抓起一本书。接着我到厨房去，往口袋里塞一把松子，然后跑出去，哈桑在外面等我。我们穿过前门，朝那座山头进发。