I need to find him； Agha。
What is he to you？ he said。 I didn t see the point of his question； but I reminded myself that impatience wasn t going to make him tell me any faster。
He s our servant s son； I said。
The old man raised a pepper gray eyebrow。 He is？ Lucky Hazara； having such a concerned master。 His father should get on his knees； sweep the dust at your feet with his eyelashes。
Are you going to tell me or not？
He rested an arm on the mule s back； pointed south。 I think I saw the boy you described running that way。 He had a kite in his hand。 A blue one。
He did？ I said。 For you a thousand times over； he d promised。 Good old Hassan。 Good old reliable Hassan。 He d kept his promise and run the last kite for me。
Of course； they ve probably caught him by now； the old merchant said； grunting and loading another box on the mule s back。
Who？
The other boys； he said。 The ones chasing him。 They were dressed like you。 He glanced to the sky and sighed。 Now； run along； you re making me late for nainaz。
But I was already scrambling down the lane。
For the next few minutes； I scoured the bazaar in vain。 Maybe the old merchant s eyes had betrayed him。 Except he d seen the blue kite。 The thought of getting my hands on that kite。。。 I poked my head behind every lane； every shop。 No sign of Hassan。
I had begun to worry that darkness would fall before I found Hassan when I heard voices from up ahead。 I d reached a secluded； muddy road。 It ran perpendicular to the end of the main thoroughfare bisecting the bazaar。 I turned onto the
rutted track and followed the voices。 My boot squished in mud with every step and my breath puffed out in white clouds before me。 The narrow path ran parallel on one side to a snow…filled ravine through which a stream may have tumbled in the spring。 To my other side stood rows of snow…burdened cypress trees peppered among flat…topped clay houses……no more than mud shacks in most cases……separated by narrow alleys。
I heard the voices again； louder this time； ing from one of the alleys。 I crept close to the mouth of the alley。 Held my breath。 Peeked around the corner。
Hassan was standing at the blind end of the alley in a defiant stance： fists curled； legs slightly apart。 Behind him； sitting on piles of scrap and rubble； was the blue kite。 My key to Baba s heart。
Blocking Hassan s way out of the alley were three boys； the same three from that day on the hill； the day after Daoud Khan s coup； when Hassan had saved us with his slingshot。 Wali was standing on one side； Kamal on the other； and in the middle； Assef。 I felt my body clench up； and something cold rippled up my spine。 Assef seemed relaxed； confident。 He was twirling his brass knuckles。 The other two guys shifted nervously on their feet； looking from Assef to Hassan； like they d cornered some kind of wild animal that only Assef could tame。
Where is your slingshot； Hazara？ Assef said； turning the brass knuckles in his hand。 What was it you said？ They ll have to call you One…Eyed Assef。 That s right。 One…Eyed Assef。 That was clever。 Really clever。 Then again； it s easy to be clever when you re holding a loaded weapon。
I realized I still hadn t breathed out。 I exhaled； slowly； quietly。 I felt paralyzed。 I watched them close in on the boy I d grown up with； the boy whose harelipped face had been my first memory。
But today is your lucky day； Hazara； Assef said。 He had his back to me； but I would have bet he was grinning。 I m in a mood to forgive。 What do you say to that； boys？
That s generous； Kamal blurted； Especially after the rude manners he showed us last time。 He was trying to sound like Assef； except there was a tremor in his voice。 Then I understood：
He wasn t afraid of Hassan； not really。 He was afraid because he had no idea what Assef had in mind。
Assef waved a dismissive hand。 Bakhshida。 Forgiven。 It s done。 His voice dropped a little。 Of course； nothing is free in this world； and my pardon es with a small price。
That s fair； Kamal said。
Nothing is free； Wali added。
You re a lucky Hazara； Assef said； taking a step toward Hassan。 Because today； it s only going to cost you that blue kite。 A fair deal； boys； isn t it？
More than fair； Kamal said。
Even from where I was standing； I could see the fear creeping into Hassan s eyes； but he shook his head。 Amir agha won the tournament and I ran this kite for him。 I ran it fairly。 This is his kite。
A loyal Hazara。 Loyal as a dog； Assef said。 Kamal s laugh was a shrill； nervous sound。
But before you sacrifice yourself for him； think about this：
Would he do the same for you？ Have you ever wondered why he never includes you in games when he has guests？ Why he only plays with you when no one else is around？ I ll tell you why； Hazara。 Because to him； you re nothing but an ugly pet。 Something he can play with when he s bored； something he can kick when he s angry。 Don t ever fool yourself and think you re something more。
Amir agha and I are friends； Hassan said。 He looked flushed。
Friends？ Assef said； laughing。 You pathetic fool！ Someday you ll wake up from your little fantasy and learn just how good of a friend he is。 Now； bas！ Enough of this。 Give us that kite。
Hassan stooped and picked up a rock。
Assef flinched。 He began to take a step back； stopped。 Last chance； Hazara。
Hassan s answer was to cock the arm that held the rock。
Whatever you wish。 Assef unbuttoned his winter coat； took it off； folded it slowly and deliberately。 He placed it against the wall。
I opened my mouth； almost said something。 Almost。 The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I had。 Bu