“Yes.” I remembered the words from Hassan’s letter. I have told much about you to Farzana jan and Sohrab, about us growing up together and playing games and running in the streets. They laugh at the stories of all the mischief you and I used to cause! “I owe you thanks too, Sohrab jan,” I said. “You saved my life.”
He didn’t say anything. I dropped my hand when he didn’t take it. “I like your new clothes,” I mumbled.
“They’re my son’s,” Farid said. “He has outgrown them. They fit Sohrab pretty well, I would say.” Sohrab could stay with him, he said, until we found a place for him. “We don’t have a lot of room, but what can I do? I can’t leave him to the streets. Besides, my children have taken a liking to him. Ha, Sohrab?” But the boy just kept looking down, twirling the line with his finger.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Farid said, a little hesitantly. “What happened in that house? What happened between you and the Talib?”
“Let’s just say we both got what we deserved,” I said. Farid nodded, didn’t push it. It occurred to me that somewhere between the time we had left Peshawar for Afghanistan and now, we had become friends. “I’ve been meaning to ask something too.”
“What?”
I didn’t want to ask. I was afraid of the answer. “Rahim Khan,” I said.
“He’s gone.”
My heart skipped. “Is he--”
“No, just... gone.” He handed me a folded piece of paper and a small key. “The landlord gave me this when I went looking for him. He said Rahim Khan left the day after we did.”
“Where did he go?” Farid shrugged. “The landlord didn’t know He said Rahim Khan left the letter and the key for you and took his leave.” He checked his watch. “I’d better go. Bia, Sohrab.”
“Could you leave him here for a while?” I said. “Pick him up later?” I turned to Sohrab. “Do you want to stay here with me for a little while?”
He shrugged and said nothing.
“Of course,” Farid said. “I’ll pick him up just before evening _namaz_.”