“Why didn’t you call earlier? I’ve been sick with tashweesh! My mother’s praying and doing nazr every day.”

“你为什么不早点打电话来？我担心得都生病了！我妈妈每天祷告，还许愿！”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’m fine now.” I had told her I’d be away a week, two at the most. I’d been gone for nearly a month. I smiled. “And tell Khala Jamila to stop killing¹ sheep.”

“我很抱歉没打电话。我现在没事了。”我曾经跟她说我会离开一个星期，也许两个星期，但我离开将近一个月了。我微笑。“跟雅米拉阿姨说不要再杀羊了。”

“What do you mean ‘fine now’? And what’s wrong with your voice?” “你说‘没事’是什么意思？你的声音怎么回事？”

“Don’t worry about that for now. I’m fine. Really. Soraya, I have a story to tell you, a story I should have told you a long time ago, but first I need to tell you one thing.”

“现在别担心这个。我没事，真的。索拉雅，我要告诉你一个故事，一个我早就该告诉你的故事，但我得先告诉你一件事。”

“What is it?” she said, her voice lower now, more cautious².

“什么事？”她放低声音说，语气谨慎一些了。

“I’m not coming home alone. I’m bringing a little boy with me.” I paused. “I want us to adopt him.”

“我不会一个人回家。我会带着一个小男孩。”我顿了顿，说，“我想我们要收养他。”

“What?”I checked my watch. “I have fifty-seven minutes left on this stupid calling card and I have so much to tell you. Sit some where.” I heard the legs of a chair dragged hurriedly across the wooden floor.

“什么？”我看看时间：“这张该死的电话卡还剩下四十七分钟，我有很多话要对你说。找个地方坐下。”我听见椅脚匆匆拖过木地板的声音。

“Go ahead,” she said.Then I did what I hadn’t done in fifteen years of marriage: I told my wife everything. Everything. I had pictured this moment so many times, dreaded³ it, but, as I spoke⁴, I felt something lifting off my chest. I imagined Soraya had experienced⁵ something very similar the night of our khastegari, when she’d told me about her past.By the time I was done with my story, she was weeping.

“说吧。”她说。然后我做了结婚十五年来没做过的事：我向妻子坦白了一切事情。一切事情。我很多次设想过这一刻，害怕这一刻，可是，我说了，我感到胸口有些东西涌起来。我觉得就在提亲那夜，索拉雅跟我说起她的过去，也体验过某种非常相似的感觉。但这一次，说故事的人是我，她在哭泣。

“What do you think?” I said.

“你怎么想？”我说。

“I don’t know what to think, Amir. You’ve told me so much all at once.”

“我不知道该怎么想，阿米尔。你一下子告诉我太多了。”

“I realize that.”I heard her blowing her nose. “But I know this much: You have to bring him home. I want you to.”

“我知道。”我听见她擦鼻子的声音。“但我很清楚地知道的是：你必须把他带回家。我要你这么做。”

“Are you sure?” I said, closing my eyes and smiling.

“你确定吗？”我说，闭上双眼，微笑起来。

“Am I sure?” she said. “Amir, he’s your qaom, your family, so he’s my qaom too. Of course I’m sure. You can’t leave him to the streets.” There was a short pause. “What’s he like?”

“我确定吗？”她说，“阿米尔，他是你的侄儿，你的家人，所以他也是我的侄儿。我当然确定，你不能任他流落街头。”她停顿了一会，“他性子怎样？”

I looked over at Sohrab sleeping on the bed. “He’s sweet, in a solemn⁶ kind of way.”

我望向睡在床上的索拉博：“他很可爱，很严肃那种。”

“Who can blame him?” she said. “I want to see him, Amir. I really do.”

“谁能怪他呢？”她说，“我想见到他，阿米尔。我真的想。”

“Soraya?”

“索拉雅？”

“Yeah.”

“嗯。”