Page 350 - The Kite Runner

The Kite Runner 339

“What are my options, Omar?”
“I’ll be frank. You don’t have a lot of them.”
“Well, Jesus, what can I do?”
Omar breathed in, tapped his chin with the pen, let his breath
out. “You could still file an orphan petition, hope for the best. You
could do an independent adoption. That means you’d have to live
with Sohrab here in Pakistan, day in and day out, for the next two
years. You could seek asylum on his behalf. That’s a lengthy
process and you’d have to prove political persecution. You could
request a humanitarian visa. That’s at the discretion of the attor-
ney general and it’s not easily given.” He paused. “There is
another option, probably your best shot.”
“What?” I said, leaning forward.
“You could relinquish him to an orphanage here, then file an
orphan petition. Start your I-600 form and your home study while
he’s in a safe place.”
“What are those?”
“I’m sorry, the I-600 is an INS formality. The home study is
done by the adoption agency you choose,” Omar said. “It’s, you
know, to make sure you and your wife aren’t raving lunatics.”
“I don’t want to do that,” I said, looking again at Sohrab. “I
promised him I wouldn’t send him back to an orphanage.”
“Like I said, it may be your best shot.”
We talked a while longer. Then I walked him out to his car, an
old VW Bug. The sun was setting on Islamabad by then, a flaming
red nimbus in the west. I watched the car tilt under Omar’s
weight as he somehow managed to slide in behind the wheel. He
rolled down the window. “Amir?”
“Yes.”
“I meant to tell you in there, about what you’re trying to do? I
think it’s pretty great.”