the kite runner-第134部分

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ins　to　mutter　that　prayer　again：
La　illaha　il　Allah；　Muhammad　u　rasul　ullah。
They　had　to　transfuse　several　units　of　red　cells……　How　will　I　tell　Soraya？
Twice；　they　had　to　revive　him……I　will　do　_namaz_；　I　will　do　_zakat_。
They　would　have　lost　him　if　his　heart　hadn　t　been　young　and　strong……
I　will　fast。
He　is　alive。
Dr。　Nawaz　smiles。　It　takes　me　a　moment　to　register　what　he　has　just　said。　Then　he　says　more　but　I　don　t　hear　him。　Because　I　have　taken　his　hands　and　I　have　brought　them　up　to　my　face。　I　weep　my　relief　into　this　stranger　s　small；　meaty　hands　and　he　says　nothing　now。　He　waits。
THE　INTENSIVE　CARE　UNIT　is　L…shaped　and　dim；　a　jumble　of　bleeping　monitors　and　whirring　machines。　Dr。　Nawaz　leads　me　between　two　rows　of　beds　separated　by　white　plastic　curtains。　Sohrab　s　bed　is　the　last　one　around　the　corner；　the　one　nearest　the　nurses　　station　where　two　nurses　in　green　surgical　scrubs　are　jotting　notes　on　clipboards；　chatting　in　low　voices。　On　the　silent　ride　up　the　elevator　with　Dr。　Nawaz；　I　had　thought　I　d　weep　again　when　I　saw　Sohrab。　But　when　I　sit　on　the　chair　at　the　foot　of　his　bed；　looking　at　his　white　face　through　the　tangle　of　gleaming　plastic　tubes　and　IV　lines；　I　am　dry…eyed。　Watching　his　chest　rise　and　fall　to　the　rhythm　of　the　hissing　ventilator；　a　curious　numbness　washes　over　me；　the　same　numbness　a　man　might　feel　seconds　after　he　has　swerved　his　car　and　barely　avoided　a　head…on　collision。
I　doze　off；　and；　when　I　wake　up；　I　see　the　sun　rising　in　a　buttermilk　sky　through　the　window　next　to　the　nurses　　station。　The　light　slants　into　the　room；　aims　my　shadow　toward　Sohrab。　He　hasn　t　moved。
　You　d　do　well　to　get　some　sleep；　　a　nurse　says　to　me。　I　don　t　recognize　her……there　must　have　been　a　shift　change　while　I　d　napped。　She　takes　me　to　another
lounge；　this　one　just　outside　the　ICU。　It　s　empty。　She　hands　me　a　pillow　and　a　hospital…issue　blanket。　I　thank　her　and　lie　on　the　vinyl　sofa　in　the　corner　of　the　lounge。　I　fall　asleep　almost　immediately。
I　dream　I　am　back　in　the　lounge　downstairs。　Dr。　Nawaz　walks　in　and　I　rise　to　meet　him。　He　takes　off　his　paper　mask；　his　hands　suddenly　whiter　than　I　remembered；　his　nails　manicured；　he　has
neatly　parted　hair；　and　I　see　he　is　not　Dr。　Nawaz　at　all　but　Raymond　Andrews；　the　little　embassy　man　with　the　potted　tomatoes。　Andrews　cocks　his　head。　Narrows　his　eyes。
IN　THE　DAYTIME；　the　hospital　was　a　maze　of　teeming；　angled　hallways；　a　blur　of　blazing…white　overhead　fluorescence。　I　came　to　know　its　layout；　came　to　know　that　the　fourth…floor　button　in　the　east　wing　elevator　didn　t　light　up；　that　the　door　to　the　men　s　room　on　that　same　floor　was　jammed　and　you　had　to　ram　your　shoulder　into　it　to　open　it。　I　came　to　know　that　hospital　life　has　a　rhythm；　the　flurry　of　activity　just　before　the　morning　shift　change；　the　midday　hustle；　the　stillness　and　quiet　of　the　late…night　hours　interrupted　occasionally　by　a　blur　of　doctors　and　nurses　rushing　to　revive　someone。　I　kept　vigil　at　Sohrab　s　bedside　in　the　daytime　and　wandered　through　the　hospital　s　serpentine　corridors　at　night；　listening　to　my　shoe　heels　clicking　on　the　tiles；　thinking　of　what　I　would　say　to　Sohrab　when　he　woke　up。　I　d　end　up　back　in　the　ICU；　by　the　whooshing　ventilator　beside　his　bed；　and　I　d　be　no　closer　to　knowing。
After　three　days　in　the　ICU；　they　withdrew　the　breathing　tube　and　transferred　him　to　a　ground…level　bed。　I　wasn　t　there　when　they　moved　him。　I　had　gone　back　to　the　hotel　that　night　to　get　some　sleep　and　ended　up　tossing　around　in　bed　all　night。　In　the　morning；　I　tried　to　not　look　at　the　bathtub。　It　was　clean　now；　someone　had　wiped　off　the　blood；　spread　new　floor　mats　on　the　floor；　and　scrubbed　the　walls。　But　I　couldn　t　stop　myself　from　sitting　on　its　cool；　porcelain　edge。　I　pictured　Sohrab　filling　it　with　warm　water。　Saw　him　undressing。　Saw　him　twisting　the　razor　handle　and　opening　the　twin　safety　latches　on　the　head；　sliding　the　blade　out；　holding　it　between　his　thumb　and　forefinger。　I　pictured　him　lowering　himself　into　the　water；　lying　there　for　a　while；　his　eyes　closed。　I　wondered　what　his　last　thought　had　been　as　he　had　raised　the　blade　and