殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(166)

“Yes, Agha sahib,” the younger of the guards replied. “How could I forget?”I had read about the Hazara massacre in Mazar-i-Sharif in the papers. It had happened just after the Taliban took over Mazar, one of the last cities to fall. I remembered Soraya handing me the article over breakfast, her face bloodless.
“Door-to-door. We only rested for food and prayer,” the Talib said. He said it fondly, like a man telling of a great party he’d attended. “We left the bodies in the streets, and if their families tried to sneak out to drag them back into their homes, we’d shoot them too. We left them in the streets for days. We left them for the dogs. Dog meat for dogs.” He crushed his cigarette. Rubbed his eyes with tremulous hands. “You come from America?”
“How is that whore these days?”I had a sudden urge to urinate. I prayed it would pass. “I’m looking for a boy.”“Isn’t everyone?” he said. The men with the Kalashnikovs laughed. Their teeth were stained green with naswar.“I understand he is here, with you,” I said. “His name is Sohrab.”“I’ll ask you something: What are you doing with that whore? Why aren’t you here, with your Muslim brothers, serving your country?”“I’ve been away a long time,” was all I could think of saying. My head felt so hot. I pressed my knees together, held my Talib turned to the two men standing by the door. “That’s an answer?” he asked them.“Nay, Agha sahib,” they said in unison, turned his eyes to me. Shrugged. “Not an answer, they say.” He took a drag of his cigarette. “There are those in my circle who believe that abandoning watan when it needs you the most is the same as treason. I could have you arrested for treason, have you shot for it even. Does that frighten you?”
“I’m only here for the boy.”
“Does that frighten you?”
“Yes.”

“記得，老爺。”年輕那個衛兵回答說，“我怎麼會忘記呢？”我在報紙上看過有關馬紮裏沙里夫的哈扎拉人遭到屠殺的新聞。那在塔利班攻陷馬紮之後就發生了。馬紮是幾個最後淪陷的城市之一。我記得早餐後，索拉雅給我看那篇報道，她面無血色。
“挨家過戶。我們只有吃飯和禱告的時候才停手。”塔利班說。他說的時候神情愉悅，好像一個男人在描繪他參加過的盛宴。“我們將屍體扔在街道上，如果他們的家人試圖偷偷將他拉回家，我們就連他們一塊幹掉。我們將他們扔在街道上好多天，把他們留給狗吃，狗肉應該留給狗。”他吸了一口煙，用顫抖的手揉揉眼睛。“你從美國來？”
“那個婊子近來如何？”我突然想尿尿，祈禱尿意會消失。“我在找一個男孩。”“誰不是呢？”他說。持槍那兩個人哈哈大笑，露出被鼻菸薰成綠色的牙齒。“我知道他在這裏，跟你在一起。”我說，“他的名字叫索拉博。”“我要問你，你投奔那個婊子幹什麼呢？你爲什麼不留在這裏，跟你的穆斯林兄弟在一起，保衛你的國家？”“我離開很久了。”我只想得出這麼一句話。我頭腦發脹，緊緊壓住膝蓋，忍住尿意。塔利班轉向那兩個站在門口的男子，“這算是答案嗎？”他問。“不算，老爺。”他們笑着齊聲說。他把眼光轉向我，聳聳肩，“這不算答案，他們說。”他吸一口煙，“在我生活的圈子裏面，人們認爲，在祖國需要的時候離開，跟叛國一樣可惡。我可以用叛國的罪名逮捕你，甚至將你幹掉，你害怕嗎？”
“我來這裏只是要找那個男孩。”
“你害怕了嗎？”
“是的。”