“Yes.” I remembered the words from Hassan’s letter. I have told much about you to Farzana jan and Sohrab, about us growing up together and playing games and running in the streets. They laugh at the stories of all the mischief you and I used to cause! “I owe you thanks too, Sohrab jan,” I said. “You saved my life.”
He didn’t say anything. I dropped my hand when he didn’t take it. “I like your new clothes,” I mumbled.
“They’re my son’s,” Farid said. “He has outgrown them. They fit Sohrab pretty well, I would say.” Sohrab could stay with him, he said, until we found a place for him. “We don’t have a lot of room, but what can I do? I can’t leave him to the streets. Besides, my children have taken a liking to him. Ha, Sohrab?” But the boy just kept looking down, twirling the line with his finger.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Farid said, a little hesitantly. “What happened in that house? What happened between you and the Talib?”
“Let’s just say we both got what we deserved,” I said. Farid nodded, didn’t push it. It occurred to me that somewhere between the time we had left Peshawar for Afghanistan and now, we had become friends. “I’ve been meaning to ask something too.”
“What?”
I didn’t want to ask. I was afraid of the answer. “Rahim Khan,” I said.
“He’s gone.”
My heart skipped. “Is he--”
“No, just... gone.” He handed me a folded piece of paper and a small key. “The landlord gave me this when I went looking for him. He said Rahim Khan left the day after we did.”
“Where did he go?” Farid shrugged. “The landlord didn’t know He said Rahim Khan left the letter and the key for you and took his leave.” He checked his watch. “I’d better go. Bia, Sohrab.”
“Could you leave him here for a while?” I said. “Pick him up later?” I turned to Sohrab. “Do you want to stay here with me for a little while?”
He shrugged and said nothing.
“Of course,” Farid said. “I’ll pick him up just before evening _namaz_.”
“是的。”我想起哈桑信里那些话。我告诉亲爱的法莎娜和索拉博很多次，那些我们过去一起长大、玩游戏、在街上追风筝的事情。听到我们过去的恶作剧，他们会大笑起来！“我也得谢谢你，亲爱的索拉博。”我说，“你救了我一命。”
他默默不语，没跟我握手。我把手放下，“我喜欢你的新衣服。”我低声说。
“那是我儿子的。”法里德说，“这些衣服他穿不下了。我觉得它们穿在索拉博身上真好看。”他说索拉博可以跟着他，直到我们为他找到去处。“我们房间不够，但我能怎么办呢？我不能任他露宿街头。再说，我的孩子们也很喜欢索拉博。对吧，索拉博？”但那个男孩只是低着头，将线缠在手指上。
“我一直想问，”法里德有点犹疑地说，“在那座屋子里面究竟发生了什么？你和那个塔利班之间究竟发生了什么事？”
“这么说吧，我们都是罪有应得。”我说。法里德点点头，不再追问。我突然发觉，就在我们离开白沙瓦、前往阿富汗到现在，不知什么时候起，我们已经成了朋友。“我也有一直想要问的事情。”
“什么？”我突然不想问，我害怕听到答案。
“拉辛汗。”我说。
“他走了。”
我的心一沉：“他……”
“不，只是……走了。”他递给我一张折好的信纸，还有一把小钥匙。“我前去寻他，房东把这个交给我。他说我们走后隔日，拉辛汗也走了。”
“他去哪里？”法里德耸耸肩：“房东也不知道。他说拉辛汗留下那封信和钥匙给你，就走了。”他看看手表，“我得走了。走吧，索拉博。”
“你能让他在这儿留一会吗？”我说，“迟点再来接他？”我转向索拉博：“你愿意留下来陪我一会儿吗？”
他耸耸肩，一语不发。
“当然，”法里德说，“做晚祷之前我会来接他。”