1 hey buried Nana in a corner of the cemetery¹ in GulDaman. Mariam stood beside Bibi jo, with the women, asMullah Faizullah recited prayers at the graveside and the menlowered Nana's shrouded² body into the ground-Afterward, Jalilwalked Mariam to thekolba, where, in front of the villagers whoaccompanied them, he made a great show of tending toMariam. He collected a few of her things, put them in asuitcase. He sat beside her cot, where she lay down, andfanned her face. He stroked her forehead, and, with awoebegone expression on his face, asked if sheneededanything? anything? - he said it like that, twice.
"I want Mullah Faizullah," Mariam said.
"Of course. He's outside. I'll get him for you."It was when Mullah Faizullah's slight, stooping figure appearedin thekolba's doorway³ that Mariam cried for the first time thatday.
"Oh, Mariam jo."He sat next to her and cupped her face in his hands. "Yougo on and cry, Mariam jo. Go on. There is no shame in it.
But remember, my girl, what the Koran says, 'Blessed is He inWhose hand is the kingdom, and He Who has power over allthings, Who created death and life that He may try you.' TheKoran speaks the truth, my girl.
Behind every trial and every sorrow that He makes usshoulder, God has a reason."But Mariam could not hear comfort in God's words. Not thatday. Not then. All she could hear was Nana saying,I'll die ifyou go. I'll just die. All she could do was cry and cry and lether tears fall on the spotted⁴, paper-thin skin of MullahFaizullah's hands.
* * *On the ride to his house, Jalil sat in the backseat of his carwith Mariam, his arm draped over her shoulder.
"You can stay with me, Mariam jo," he said. "I've asked themalready to clean a room for you. It's upstairs. You'll like it, Ithink. You'll have a view of the garden."For the first time, Mariam could hear him with Nana's ears.
She could hear so clearly now the insincerity that had alwayslurked beneath, the hollow, false assurances. She could notbring herself to look at him.
When the car stopped before Jalil's house, the driver openedthe door for them and carried Mariam's suitcase. Jalil guidedher, one palm cupped around each of her shoulders, throughthe same gates outside of which, two days before, Mariam hadslept on the sidewalk waiting for him. Two days before-whenMariam could think of nothing in the world she wanted morethan to walk in this garden with Jalil-felt like another lifetime.

分享到：