Page 349 - The Kite Runner

338 Khaled Hosseini

back to me. “Now, a child has to be legally adopted according to
the laws and regulations of his own country. But when you have a
country in turmoil, say a country like Afghanistan, government
offices are busy with emergencies, and processing adoptions won’t
be a top priority.”
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. A pounding headache was set-
tling in just behind them.
“But let’s suppose that somehow Afghanistan gets its act
together,” Omar said, crossing his arms on his protruding belly.
“It still may not permit this adoption. In fact, even the more mod-
erate Muslim nations are hesitant with adoptions because in
many of those countries, Islamic law, Shari’a, doesn’t recognize
adoption.”
“You’re telling me to give it up?” I asked, pressing my palm to
my forehead.
“I grew up in the U.S., Amir. If America taught me anything,
it’s that quitting is right up there with pissing in the Girl Scouts’
lemonade jar. But, as your lawyer, I have to give you the facts,” he
said. “Finally, adoption agencies routinely send staff members to
evaluate the child’s milieu, and no reasonable agency is going to
send an agent to Afghanistan.”
I looked at Sohrab sitting on the bed, watching TV, watching us.
He was sitting the way his father used to, chin resting on one knee.
“I’m his half uncle, does that count for anything?”
“It does if you can prove it. I’m sorry, do you have any papers
or anyone who can support you?”
“No papers,” I said, in a tired voice. “No one knew about it.
Sohrab didn’t know until I told him, and I myself didn’t find out
until recently. The only other person who knows is gone, maybe
dead.”
“Hmm.”