For the next few minutes, I scoured¹ the bazaar² in vain. Maybe the old merchant's eyes had betrayed him. Except he'd seen the blue kite. The thought of getting my hands on that kite... I poked³ my head behind every lane, every shop. No sign of Hassan.

有那么几分钟，我徒劳无功地在市场中搜寻着。兴许那个老人看走了眼，可是他看到了蓝色的风筝。想到亲手拿着那只风筝……我探头寻找每条通道，每家店铺。没有哈桑的踪迹。

I had begun to worry that darkness would fall before I found Hassan when I heard voices from up ahead. I'd reached a secluded⁴, muddy road. It ran perpendicular⁵ to the end of the main thoroughfare bisecting the bazaar. I turned onto the rutted track and followed the voices. My boot squished in mud with every step and my breath puffed⁶ out in white clouds before me. The narrow path ran parallel on one side to a snow-filled ravine through which a stream may have tumbled in the spring. To my other side stood rows of snow-burdened cypress⁷ trees peppered among flat-topped clay houses--no more than mud shacks⁸ in most cases--separated by narrow alleys¹⁰.

我正在担心天就快黑了，听到前面传来一阵声响。我来到一条僻静、泥泞的小巷。市场被一条大路分成两半，它就在那条大路的末端，成直角伸展开去。小巷车辙宛然，我走在上面，随着声音而去。靴子在泥泞中吱嘎作响，我呼出的气变成白雾。这狭窄的巷道跟一条冻结小溪平行，要是在春天，会有溪水潺潺流淌。小巷的另外一边是成排的柏树，枝头堆满积雪，散落在一些窄巷交错的平顶黏土房屋之间--那些房子比土屋茅舍好不了多少。

I heard the voices again, louder this time, coming from one of the alleys. I crept close to the mouth of the alley⁹. Held my breath. Peeked¹¹ around the corner.

我又听见那声音，这次更响了，从某条小巷传出来。我悄悄走进巷口，屏住呼吸，在拐角处窥探。

Hassan was standing¹² at the blind end of the alley in a defiant¹³ stance: fists curled, legs slightly apart. Behind him, sitting on piles of scrap¹⁴ and rubble¹⁵, was the blue kite. My key to Baba's heart.

那小巷是死胡同，哈桑站在末端，摆出一副防御的姿势：拳头紧握，双腿微微张开。在他身后，有一堆破布瓦砾，摆着那只蓝风筝。那是我打开爸爸心门的钥匙。

Blocking Hassan's way out of the alley were three boys, the same three from that day on the hill, the day after Daoud Khan's coup¹⁶, when Hassan had saved us with his slingshot. Wali was standing on one side, Kamal on the other, and in the middle, Assef. I felt my body clench¹⁷ up, and something cold rippled¹⁸ up my spine¹⁹. Assef seemed relaxed, confident. He was twirling his brass²⁰ knuckles²¹. The other two guys shifted nervously²² on their feet, looking from Assef to Hassan, like they'd cornered some kind of wild animal that only Assef could tame.

挡住哈桑去路的是三个男孩，就是达乌德汗发动政变隔日，我们在山脚遇到、随后又被哈桑用弹弓打发走的那三个。瓦里站在一边，卡莫在另外一边，阿塞夫站在中间。我感到自己身体收缩，一阵寒意从脊背升起。阿塞夫神态放松而自信，他正在戴上他的不锈钢拳套。其他两个家伙紧张地挪动着双脚，看看阿塞夫，又看看哈桑，仿佛他们困住某种野兽，只有阿塞夫才能驯服。

"Where is your slingshot, Hazara?" Assef said, turning the brass knuckles in his hand. "What was it you said? ‘They'll have to call you One-Eyed Assef.?That's right. One-Eyed Assef. That was clever. Really clever. Then again, it's easy to be clever when you're holding a loaded weapon."

"你的弹弓呢，哈扎拉人?"阿塞夫说，玩弄着手上的拳套,"你说过什么来着?'他们会管你叫独眼龙阿塞夫。'很好，独眼龙阿塞夫。太聪明了，真的很聪明。再说一次，当人们手里握着上了膛的武器，想不变得聪明也难。"

I realized I still hadn't breathed out. I exhaled²³, slowly, quietly. I felt paralyzed. I watched them close in on the boy I'd grown up with, the boy whose harelipped face had been my first memory.

我觉得自己无法呼吸。我慢慢地、安静地呼着气，全身麻木。我看见他们逼近那个跟我共同长大的男孩，那个我懂事起就记得他的兔唇的男孩。

"But today is your lucky day, Hazara," Assef said. He had his back to me, but I would have bet he was grinning. "I'm in a mood to forgive. What do you say to that, boys?"

"但你今天很幸运，哈扎拉人。"阿塞夫说。他背朝我，但我敢打赌他脸上一定挂着邪恶的笑容。"我心情很好，可以原谅你。你们说呢，小子们?"

"That's generous," Kamal blurted²⁴, "Especially after the rude manners he showed us last time." He was trying to sound like Assef, except there was a tremor²⁵ in his voice. Then I understand: He wasn't afraid of Hassan, not really. He was afraid because he had no idea what Assef had in mind.

"太宽宏大量了，"卡莫喊道，"特别是考虑到他上次对我们那样粗鲁无礼。"他想学着阿塞夫的语调，可是声音里面有些颤抖。于是我明白了：他害怕的不是哈桑，绝对不是。他害怕，是因为不知道阿塞夫在打什么主意。