Page 335 - The Kite Runner

324 Khaled Hosseini

“Sohrab?”
“Yes.”
“Have you given any thought to what I asked you before?”
His smiled faded. He rolled to his back. Laced his hands
under his head. The mullahs decided that Ayub’s son would go to
hell after all for wearing his pants the way he did. They claimed it
was in the Haddith. “I’ve thought about it,” Sohrab said.
“And?”
“It scares me.”
“I know it’s a little scary,” I said, grabbing onto that loose thread

of hope. “But you’ll learn English so fast and you’ll get used to—”
“That’s not what I mean. That scares me too, but...”
“But what?”
He rolled toward me again. Drew his knees up. “What if you
get tired of me? What if your wife doesn’t like me?”
I struggled out of bed and crossed the space between us. I sat
beside him. “I won’t ever get tired of you, Sohrab,” I said. “Not
ever. That’s a promise. You’re my nephew, remember? And Soraya
jan, she’s a very kind woman. Trust me, she’s going to love you. I
promise that too.” I chanced something. Reached down and took
his hand. He tightened up a little but let me hold it.
“I don’t want to go to another orphanage,” he said.
“I won’t ever let that happen. I promise you that.” I cupped his
hand in both of mine. “Come home with me.”
His tears were soaking the pillow. He didn’t say anything for a
long time. Then his hand squeezed mine back. And he nodded.
He nodded.

The connection went through on the fourth try. The
phone rang three times before she picked it up. “Hello?” It was