"Did you hear?" he says, panting a little. "They killed him.
Ahmad Shah Massoud. He's dead.""What?"From the doorway2, Tariq tells her what he knows.
"They say he gave an interview to a pair of journalists whoclaimed they were Belgians originally from Morocco. As they'retalking, a bomb hidden in the video camera goes off. KillsMassoud and one of the journalists. They shoot the other oneas he tries to run. They're saying now the journalists wereprobably Al-Qaeda men."Laila remembers the poster of Ahmad Shah Massoud thatMammy had nailed to the wall of her bedroom. Massoudleaning forward, one eyebrow3 cocked, his face furrowed4 inconcentration, as though he was respectfully listening tosomeone. Laila remembers how grateful Mammy was thatMassoud had said a graveside prayer at her sons' burial, howshe told everyone about it. Even after war broke out betweenhis faction6 and the others, Mammy had refused to blamehim.He's a good man, she used to say.
He wants peace. He wants to rebuild Afghanistan. But theywon 't let him. They just won 't let him.For Mammy, even inthe end, even after everything went so terribly wrong andKabul lay in ruins, Massoud was still the Lion of Panjshir.
Laila is not as forgiving- Massoud's violent end brings her nojoy, but she remembers too well the neighborhoods razedunder his watch, the bodies dragged from the rubble7, thehands and feet of children discovered on rooftops or the highbranch of some tree days after their funeral She rememberstoo clearly the look on Mammy's own face moments before therocket slammed in and, much as she has tried to forget, Babi'sheadless torso landing nearby, the bridge tower printed on hisT-shirt poking8 through thick fog and blood.
"There is going to be a funeral," Tariq is saying. "I'm sure ofit. Probably in Rawalpindi. It'll be huge."Zalmai, who was almost asleep, is sitting up now, rubbing hiseyes with balled fists.
Two days later, they are cleaning a room when they hear acommotion. Tariq drops the mop and hurries out. Laila tailshim.
Thenoise is coming from the hotel lobby. There is a loungearea to the right of the reception desk, with several chairs andtwo couches upholstered in beige suede10. In the corner, facingthe couches, is a television, and Sayeed, the concierge11, andseveral guests are gathered in front of.
Laila and Tariq work their way in.
The TV is tuned12 to BBC. On the screen is a building, atower, black smoke billowing from its top floors. Tariq sayssomething to Sayeed and Sayeed is in midreply when a planeappears from the corner of the screen. It crashes into theadjacent tower, exploding into a fireball that dwarfs13 any ball offire that Laila has ever seen. A collective yelp14 rises fromeveryone in the lobby.
In less than two hours, both towers have collapsedSoon all the TV stations are talking about Afghanistan and theTaliban and Osama bin9 Laden15.
* * *"Did you hear what the Taliban said?" Tariq asks. "About binLaden?"Aziza is sitting across from him on the bed, considering theboard. Tariq has taught her to play chess. She is frowning andtapping her lower lip now, mimicking16 the body language herfather assumes when he's deciding on a move.
Zalmai's cold is a little better. He is asleep, and Laila isrubbing Vicks on his chest.
"I heard," she says.
The Taliban have announced that they won't relinquish17 binLaden because he is amehman, a guest, who has foundsanctuary in Afghanistan and it is against thePashiunwali codeof ethics18 to turn over a guest. Tariq chuckles19 bitterly, and Lailahears in his chuckle20 that he is revolted by this distortion of anhonorable Pashtun custom, this misrepresentation of his people'sways.
A few days after the attacks, Laila and Tariq are in the hotellobby again. On the TV screen, George W. Bush is speaking.
There is a big American flag behind him. At one point, hisvoice wavers, and Laila thinks he is going to weep.
Sayeed, who speaks English, explains to them that Bush hasjust declared war.
"On whom?" says Tariq.
"On your country, to begin with."* * *"It may not be such a bad thing," Tariq says.
They have finished making love. He's lying beside her, hishead on her chest, his arm draped over her belly21. The firstfew times they tried, there was difficulty. Tariq was all apologies,Laila all reassurances22. There are still difficulties, not physicalnow but logistical. The shack23 they share with the children issmall. The children sleep on cots below them and so there islittle privacy. Most times, Laila and Tariq make love in silence,with controlled, muted passion, fully5 clothed beneath the blanketas a precaution against interruptions by the children. They areforever wary24 of the rustling25 sheets, the creaking bedsprings. Butfor Laila, being with Tariq is worth weathering theseapprehensions. When they make love, Laila feels anchored, shefeels sheltered. Her anxieties, that their life together is atemporary blessing26, that soon it will come loose again in stripsand tatters, are allayed27. Her fears of separation vanish.
"What do you mean?" she says now.
"What's going on back home. It may not be so bad in theend."Back home, bombs are falling once again, this time Americanbombs-Laila has been watching images of the war every dayon the television as she changes sheets and vacuums. TheAmericans have armed the warlords once more, and enlistedthe help of the Northern Alliance to drive out the Taliban andfind bin Laden.
But it rankles28 Laila, what Tariq is saying. Shepushes his headroughly off her chest.
"Not so bad? People dying? Women, children, old people?
Homes destroyed again? Not so bad?""Shh.You'll wake the children.""How can you say that, Tariq?" she snaps. "After the so-calledblunder in Karam? A hundred innocent people! You saw thebodies for yourself!""No," Tariq says. He props29 himself up on his elbow, looksdown at Laila. "You misunderstand. What I meant was-""You wouldn't know," Laila says. She is aware that her voiceis rising, that they are having their first fight as husband andwife. "You left when the Mujahideen began fighting, remember?
I'm the one who stayed behind. Me. Iknow war.I lost myparents to war. Myparents, Tariq. And now to hear you saythat war is not so bad?""I'm sorry, Laila. I'm sorry." He cups her face in his hands.
"You're right. I'm sorry. Forgive me. What I meant wasthat maybe there will be hope at the other end of this war,that maybe for the first time in a long time-""I don't want to talk about this anymore," Laila says, surprisedat how she has lashed30 out at him. It's unfair, she knows, whatshe said to him-hadn't war taken his parents too?-andwhatever flared31 in her is softening32 already. Tariq continues tospeak gently, and, when he pulls her to him, she lets him.
When he kisses her hand, then her brow, she lets him. Sheknows that he is probably right. She knows how his commentwas intended. Maybe thisis necessary. Maybe theremil be hopewhen Bush's bombs stop falling. But she cannot bring herselfto say it, not when what happened to Babi and Mammy ishappening to someone now in Afghanistan, not when someunsuspecting girl or boy back home has just been orphanedby a rocket as she was. Laila cannot bring herself to say it.
It's hard to rejoice. It seems hypocritical, perverse33.
That night, Zalmai wakes up coughing. Before Laila can move,Tariq swings his legs over the side of the bed. He straps34 onhis prosthesis and walks over to Zalmai, lifts him up into hisarms. From the bed, Laila watches Tariq's shape moving backand forth35 in the darkness. She sees the outline of Zalmai'shead on his shoulder, the knot of his hands at Tariq's neck,his small feet bouncing by Tariq's hip36.
When Tariq comes back to bed, neither of them saysanything. Laila reaches over and touches his face. Tariq'scheeks are wet.
点击收听单词发音
1 bungalow | |
n.平房,周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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2 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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3 eyebrow | |
n.眉毛,眉 | |
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4 furrowed | |
v.犁田,开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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6 faction | |
n.宗派,小集团;派别;派系斗争 | |
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7 rubble | |
n.(一堆)碎石,瓦砾 | |
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8 poking | |
n. 刺,戳,袋 vt. 拨开,刺,戳 vi. 戳,刺,捅,搜索,伸出,行动散慢 | |
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9 bin | |
n.箱柜;vt.放入箱内;[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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10 suede | |
n.表面粗糙的软皮革 | |
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11 concierge | |
n.管理员;门房 | |
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12 tuned | |
adj.调谐的,已调谐的v.调音( tune的过去式和过去分词 );调整;(给收音机、电视等)调谐;使协调 | |
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13 dwarfs | |
n.侏儒,矮子(dwarf的复数形式)vt.(使)显得矮小(dwarf的第三人称单数形式) | |
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14 yelp | |
vi.狗吠 | |
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15 laden | |
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的 | |
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16 mimicking | |
v.(尤指为了逗乐而)模仿( mimic的现在分词 );酷似 | |
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17 relinquish | |
v.放弃,撤回,让与,放手 | |
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18 ethics | |
n.伦理学;伦理观,道德标准 | |
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19 chuckles | |
轻声地笑( chuckle的名词复数 ) | |
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20 chuckle | |
vi./n.轻声笑,咯咯笑 | |
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21 belly | |
n.肚子,腹部;(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分,膛 | |
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22 reassurances | |
n.消除恐惧或疑虑( reassurance的名词复数 );恢复信心;使人消除恐惧或疑虑的事物;使人恢复信心的事物 | |
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23 shack | |
adj.简陋的小屋,窝棚 | |
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24 wary | |
adj.谨慎的,机警的,小心的 | |
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25 rustling | |
n. 瑟瑟声,沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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26 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
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27 allayed | |
v.减轻,缓和( allay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28 rankles | |
v.(使)痛苦不已,(使)怨恨不已( rankle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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29 props | |
小道具; 支柱( prop的名词复数 ); 支持者; 道具; (橄榄球中的)支柱前锋 | |
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30 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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31 Flared | |
adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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32 softening | |
变软,软化 | |
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33 perverse | |
adj.刚愎的;坚持错误的,行为反常的 | |
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34 straps | |
n.带子( strap的名词复数 );挎带;肩带;背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 );用皮带抽打;包扎;给…打绷带 | |
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35 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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36 hip | |
n.臀部,髋;屋脊 | |
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