Page 113 - And the Mountains Echoed (novel)

“I am a mazdoor, a simple laborer. I earn a dollar, maybe two, on a good day,

Sahib. And I already have five children of my own. One of them blind. Now
this.” He sighs. “I think to myself sometimes—God forgive me—I say to myself,
maybe Allah should have let Roshi … well, you understand. It might have been
better. Because I ask you, Sahib, what boy would marry her now? She will never
find a husband. And then who will take care of her? I will have to. I will have to
do it forever.”
Idris knows he has been cornered. He reaches for his wallet.
“Whatever you can spare, Sahib. Not for me, of course. For Roshi.”
Idris hands him a pair of bills. The uncle blinks, looks up from the money. He

begins to say, “Two—” then clamps his mouth shut as though worried that he
will alert Idris to a mistake.
“Buy her some decent shoes,” Idris says, walking down the steps.
“Allah bless you, Sahib,” the uncle calls out behind him. “You are a good
man. You are a kind and good man.”

Idris visits the next day, and the day after that. Soon, it becomes a
routine, and he is at Roshi’s side every day. He comes to know the orderlies by
name, the male nurses who work the ground floor, the janitor, the underfed,
tired-looking guards at the hospital gates. He keeps the visits as secret as
possible. On his calls overseas, he has not told Nahil about Roshi. He does not
tell Timur where he is going either, why he isn’t joining him on the trip to
Paghman or for a meeting with an official at the Ministry of Interior. But Timur
finds out anyway.

“Good for you,” he says. “It’s a decent thing you’re doing.” He pauses before
adding, “Tread carefully, though.”
“You mean stop visiting.”
“We leave in a week, bro. You don’t want to get her too attached to you.”

Idris nods. He wonders if Timur may not be slightly jealous of his
relationship with Roshi, perhaps even resentful that he, Idris, may have robbed
him of a spectacular opportunity to play hero. Timur, emerging in slow motion
from the blazing building, holding a baby. The crowd exploding in a cheer. Idris
is determined not to let Timur parade Roshi in that way.
Still, Timur is right. They are going home in a week, and Roshi has started
calling him Kaka Idris. If he arrives late, he finds her agitated. She ties her arms