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 winked¹. "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".

过了一个钟头，夜色更加黯淡了。他们两个开着爸爸的轿车去参加派对。拉辛汗快出门的时候，在我身前蹲下来，递给我那篇故事，还有另外一张折好 的纸。他亮起微笑，还眨眨眼。"给你，等会再看。"然后他停下来，加了一个词：太棒了!就鼓励我写作而言，这个词比如今任何编辑的恭维给了我更 多的勇气。

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 tickled² my face. I was overcome with such sudden guilt³ that I bolted to the bathroom and vomited⁴ in the sink.

他们离开了，我坐在自己的床上，心里想要是拉辛汗是我父亲就好了。随后我想起爸爸，还有他宽广的胸膛，他抱着我的时候，靠着它感觉多好啊。我 想起每天早晨他身上甜甜的酒味，想起他用胡子扎我的脸蛋。一阵突如其来的罪恶感将我淹没，我跑进卫生间，在水槽里吐了。

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

那夜稍晚的时候，我蜷缩在床上，一遍遍读着拉辛汗的字条。他写道：

Amir jan,

亲爱的阿米尔：

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 irony⁵. 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 attain⁶. You have achieved it with your first story.

我非常喜欢你的故事。我的天，真主赋予你独特的天分。如今你的责任是磨炼这份天才，因为将真主给予的天分白白浪费的人是蠢驴。你写的故事语法 正确，风格引人入胜。但最令人难忘的是，你的故事饱含讽刺的意味。你也许还不懂得讽刺是什么，但你以后会懂的。有些作家奋斗终生，对它梦寐以求，然而 徒唤奈何。你的第一篇故事已经达到了。

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

我的大门永远为你开着，亲爱的阿米尔。我愿意倾听你诉说的任何故事。太棒了!

Your friend,

你的朋友，

Rahim

拉辛

Buoyed⁷ by Rahim Khan's note, I grabbed the story and hurried downstairs to the foyer where Ali and Hassan were sleeping on a mattress⁸. 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.

拉辛汗的字条让我飘飘然，我抓起那篇故事，直奔楼下而去，冲到门廊。阿里和哈桑睡在那儿的地毯上。只有当爸爸外出，阿里不得不照看我的时候， 他们才会睡在屋子里。我把哈桑摇醒，问他是否愿意听个故事。

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

他揉揉惺忪的睡眼，伸伸懒腰:"现在吗?几点了?"

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

"别问几点了。这个故事很特别，我自己写的。"我不想吵醒阿里，低声说。哈桑脸上神色一振。

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

"那我一定要听听。"他拉开盖在身上的毛毯，说道。