Page 24 - And the Mountains Echoed (novel)

“Maybe.”

“You won’t live far.”
“What if you get sick of me?”
She jabbed his side with her elbow. “I wouldn’t!”
Abdullah grinned to himself. “All right, fine.”

“You’ll be close by.”
“Yes.”
“Until we’re old.”
“Very old.”

“For always.”
“Yes, for always.”
From the front of the wagon, she turned to look at him. “Do you promise,
Abollah?”
“For always and always.”

Later, Father hoisted Pari up on his back, and Abdullah was in the rear,
pulling the empty wagon. As they walked, he fell into a thoughtless trance. He
was aware only of the rise and fall of his own knees, of the sweat beads trickling
down from the edge of his skullcap. Pari’s small feet bouncing against Father’s
hips. Aware only of the shadow of his father and sister lengthening on the gray
desert floor, pulling away from him if he slowed down.

It was Uncle Nabi who had found this latest job for Father—Uncle
Nabi was Parwana’s older brother and so he was really Abdullah’s stepuncle.
Uncle Nabi was a cook and a chauffeur in Kabul. Once a month, he drove from
Kabul to visit them in Shadbagh, his arrival announced by a staccato of honks
and the hollering of a horde of village kids who chased the big blue car with the
tan top and shiny rims. They slapped the fender and windows until he killed the
engine and emerged grinning from the car, handsome Uncle Nabi with the long
sideburns and wavy black hair combed back from his forehead, dressed in his
oversize olive-colored suit with white dress shirt and brown loafers. Everyone
came out to see him because he drove a car, though it belonged to his employer,
and because he wore a suit and worked in the big city, Kabul.

It was on his last visit that Uncle Nabi had told Father about the job. The
wealthy people he worked for were building an addition to their home—a small