Even after Mariam put the rice and the lamb and okra qurma in front of him, he wouldn't touch it.
He said nothing, and went on chewing the bread, his temples working, the vein on his forehead, full and angry.
He went on chewing and staring ahead, and when Mariam spoke to him,
he looked at her without seeing her face and put another piece of bread into his mouth.
Mariam was relieved when Ramadan ended. Back at the kolba, on the first of three days of Eid-ul-Fitr celebration,
that followed Ramadan, Jalil would visit Mariam and Nana. Dressed in suit and tie, he would come bearing Eid presents.
One year, he gave Mariam a wool scarf. The three of them would sit for tea and then Jalil would excuse himself.
“Off to celebrate Eid with his real family,” Nana would say as he crossed the stream and waved. Mullah Faizullah would come too.
He would bring Mariam chocolate candy wrapped in foil, a basketful of dyed boiled eggs, cookies.
After he was gone, Mariam would climb one of the willows with her treats. Perched on a high branch,
she would eat Mullah Faizullah's chocolates and drop the foil wrappers until they lay scattered about the trunk of the tree like silver blossoms.
When the chocolate was gone, she would start in on the cookies, and, with a pencil, she would draw faces on the eggs he had brought her now.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색