按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
a pair of scissors and calmly told me to cut off all my hair。 He watched while I did it。
I didn t step out of the house for weeks。 And when I did； I heard whispers or imagined them everywhere I went。 That was four years ago and three thousand miles away and I m still hearing them。
Fuck em； I said。
She made a sound that was half sob； half laugh。 When I told you about this on the phone the night of khastegari； I was sure you d change your mind。
No chance of that； Soraya。
She smiled and took my hand。 I m so lucky to have found you。 You re so different from every Afghan guy I ve met。
Let s never talk about this again； okay？
Okay。
I kissed her cheek and pulled away from the curb。 As I drove； I wondered why I was different。 Maybe it was because I had been raised by men； I hadn t grown up around women and had never been exposed firsthand to the double standard with which Afghan society sometimes treated them。 Maybe it was because Baba had been such an unusual Afghan father； a liberal who had lived by his own rules； a maverick who had disregarded or embraced societal customs as he had seen fit。
But I think a big part of the reason I didn t care about Soraya s past was that I had one of my own。 I knew all about regret。
SHORTLY AFTER BABA S DEATH； Soraya and I moved into a one…bedroom apartment in Fremont； just a few blocks away from the general and Khala Jamila s house。 Soraya s parents bought us a brown leather couch and a set of Mikasa dishes as
housewarming presents。 The general gave me an additional present； a brand new IBM typewriter。 In the box； he had slipped a note written in Farsi：
Amir jan；
I hope you discover many tales on these keys。
General Iqbal Taheri
I sold Baba s VW bus and； to this day； I have not gone back to the flea market。 I would drive to his gravesite every Friday； and； sometimes； I d find a fresh bouquet of freesias by the headstone and know Soraya had been there too。
Soraya and I settled into the routines……and minor wonders…… of married life。 We shared toothbrushes and socks； passed each other the morning paper。 She slept on the right side of the bed； I preferred the left。 She liked fluffy pillows； I liked the hard ones。 She ate her cereal dry； like a snack； and chased it with milk。
I got my acceptance at San Jose State that summer and declared an English major。 I took on a security job； swing shift at a furniture warehouse in Sunnyvale。 The job was dreadfully boring； but its saving grace was a considerable one： When everyone left at 6 P。M。 and shadows began to crawl between aisles of plastic…covered sofas piled to the ceiling； I took out my books and studied。 It was in the Pine…Sol…scented office of that furniture warehouse that I began my first novel。
Soraya joined me at San Jose State the following year and enrolled； to her father s chagrin； in the teaching track。
I don t know why you re wasting your talents like this； the general said one night over dinner。 Did you know； Amir jan； that she earned nothing but A s in high school？ He turned to her。 An intelligent girl like you could bee a lawyer； a political s