Page 284 - The Kite Runner

TWENTY-TWO

Farid eased the Land Cruiser up the driveway of a big house in
Wazir Akbar Khan. He parked in the shadows of willow trees that
spilled over the walls of the compound located on Street 15,
Sarak-e-Mehmana, Street of the Guests. He killed the engine and
we sat for a minute, listening to the tink-tink of the engine cooling
off, neither one of us saying anything. Farid shifted on his seat
and toyed with the keys still hanging from the ignition switch. I
could tell he was readying himself to tell me something.
“I guess I’ll wait in the car for you,” he said finally, his tone a
little apologetic. He wouldn’t look at me. “This is your business
now. I—”
I patted his arm. “You’ve done much more than I’ve paid you
for. I don’t expect you to go with me.” But I wished I didn’t have to
go in alone. Despite what I had learned about Baba, I wished he
were standing alongside me now. Baba would have busted through
the front doors and demanded to be taken to the man in charge,
piss on the beard of anyone who stood in his way. But Baba was