Amir's Letters

Dear Hassan,

There are many things that I would like to say that I should've said years ago, back before the war happened. First, thank you. You've brought me great happiness not only in childhood but with Sohrab. He is just like you! He enjoys kite running and is just as good as you were. Around the time that Sohrab came to live with my wife, Soraya, and I, we went kite flying. I did that move-the lift and dive move-the one you loved. Before I had even realized what I was saying, I blurted out, "For you, a thousand times over!" I remember when you said that to me. It had been amazing, winning the championship...You know, before that happened. Your assault. Second, I'm sorry. I've wronged you so many times and in so many ways. I felt envy towards you, I've wished bad will upon you, and I tricked you. And yet, after I had gone and left you, you still asked Rahim Khan about me, about me, and you told your son stories about us and the fun, childish times we had. But this isn't the only thing that I'm apologetic for. Sohrab. I told him I wouldn't take him to an orphanage but I thought I had to. He almost ended his life, went silent, because of me. And I'm sorry.

-Amir
***
Dear Hassan,

Sohrab has finally started speaking again. It's slight but it's there. He smiles more, too. It's something, some form of progress, at least. And he has shown interest in seeing the San Francisco bridge. I took him and, on that day, the sky was a clear blue, the sun was shining without a cloud in the sky. And, in that moment, Sohrab took my hand. He, I believe-I hope-is beginning to trust me again. That is another thing that I'm sorry for. I betrayed Sohrab's trust and he hurt himself because of it. I have committed many sins and I hope that you, and Allah, will forgive me. Just as Sohrab has learned to speak, so have I. In that alley, years ago, even if I didn't run to your aid like I could have-like you would have for me, I believe-I should've at least told someone. Ali asked me if something was wrong when you were quiet. I told him no. I should have said something and I didn't. I'm sorry. We, as children, were told that, since we were fed by the same woman that we were bound together. However, I found out, and I feel like you should know too, that we are half brothers. While I was angry at Baba, Ali, and Rahim Khan for lying to us, whenever I look at Sohrab I understand why they would lie to protect us. While I understand, I will not allow my and Sohrab's relationship to be made of lies. I promise you, Hassan, that, when Sohrab's old enough, I will tell him everything.

Your brother,

Amir
***
Dear Hassan,

Today, I took Sohrab on a little road trip. We drove up the steep streets of San Francisco-Bradford, Prentiss, Nevada. Sohrab's eyes were probably the size of baseballs. As we drove, we could only see the sky, the deep gray clouds that promised rain, and the hood of my car. Afterward, we took a trolley and wandered a bit. As we did, we just so happened to have passed a store that sold slingshots. I offered to buy him whichever one he wanted. Of course, much like you would have, he declined even while looking at them longingly. So we made a deal: I buy him a slingshot of his choosing and he teaches me how to use one too. This deal seemed to pacify him and he hesitatingly grabbed one for him and one for me. While he isn't bouncing off the walls like other children I've seen, I like to think that he's getting more comfortable, that he knows he's safe, and maybe that the pain he left in Afghanistan is dulling, even a little.

Your brother,

Amir
***
Dear Hassan,

Sohrab has been teaching me how to use the slingshot with the diligence of any good teacher. It's amusing, really, to see him showing me how to hold the slingshot correctly for the fiftieth time, a look of thinly veiled frustration that will only bubble to the surface with deathly accurate hits of the cans placed in a row in the backyard. He seemed to enjoy himself exponentially. Also, a new development has occurred. Sohrab has decided to teach himself English. Of course, he's been picking up pieces here and there but he's decided to challenge himself with the language. I've hired a tutor to help Sohrab with his language speaking and writing. Whenever the tutor isn't here, Sohrab reads either to myself or Soraya. When this first occurred, she was absolutely delighted. Her face lit up like the sun on the horizon at dawn.

Your brother,

Amir
***
Dear Hassan,

Sohrab's reading has become fluent and his writing more polished. He's even gotten the hang of different English dialects and incorporated this into his writing. In fact, while he was reading, my agent came to my home to discuss my book that's in the process of being published. When I glanced up from our plans, I saw Sohrab watching us through the crack in the door. I beckoned him in and he listened to our conversation. With a little prodding, he even shared his ideas and thoughts on it. He had some very good ones! But this wasn't all. As we finished up, Sohrab quietly announced, "I want to publish a book, too." When my agent left, that's just what we did. I got some paper and string and made our own. You should've seen how proud he was when he grabbed his pen and wrote a story using his careful, precise penmanship. Some time later, on my birthday, he gave it to me in a box that was wrapped a bit roughly but obviously with tender care. He was so excited, smiling brilliantly. It was a long time coming and I would've been happy with just that smile. However, when I opened up the box, I found the book inside. His face turned the shade of a tomato when I read it out loud but he seemed pleased, maybe even more so when I placed it proudly on our bookshelf in the living room so, "everyone can see it when they come to our home."

Your brother,

Amir

Unbeknownst to Amir, years before, as Hassan learned to write, he wasn't the only one who kept unsent letters. However, Hassan wrote only three words.

I forgive you.