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the navigator； and set up
our display on Sundays。 Brass lamps。 Baseball gloves。 Ski jackets with broken zippers。 Baba greeted acquaintances from the old country and I haggled with buyers over a dollar or two。 Like any of it mattered。 Like the day I would bee an orphan wasn t inching closer with each closing of shop。
Sometimes； General Taheri and his wife strolled by。 The general； ever the diplomat； greeted me with a smile and his two…handed shake。 But there was a new reticence to Khanum Taheri s demeanor。 A reticence broken only by her secret； droopy smiles and the furtive； apologetic looks she cast my way when the general s attention was engaged elsewhere。
I remember that period as a time of many firsts ： The first time I heard Baba moan in the bathroom。 The first time I found blood on his pillow。 In over three years running the gas station； Baba had never called in sick。 Another first。
By Halloween of that year； Baba was getting so tired by mid…Saturday afternoon that he d wait behind the wheel while I got out and bargained for junk。 By Thanksgiving； he wore out before noon。 When sleighs appeared on front lawns and fake snow on Douglas firs； Baba stayed home and I drove the VW bus alone up and down the peninsula。
Sometimes at the flea market； Afghan acquaintances made remarks about Baba s weight loss。 At first； they were plimentary。 They even asked the secret to his diet。 But the queries and pliments stopped when the weight loss didn t。 When the pounds kept shedding。 And shedding。 When his cheeks hollowed。 And his temples melted。 And his eyes receded in their sockets。
Then； one cool Sunday shortly after New Year s Day； Baba was selling a lampshade to a stocky Filipino man while I rummaged in the VW for a blanket to cover his legs with。
Hey； man； this guy needs help！ the Filipino man said with alarm。 I turned around and found Baba on the ground。 His arms and legs were jerking。
Komak！ I cried。 Somebody help！ I ran to Baba。 He was frothing at the mouth； the foamy spittle soaking his beard。 His upturned eyes showed nothing but white。
People were rushing to us。 I heard someone say seizure。 Some one else yelling； Call 911！ I heard running footsteps。 The sky darkened as a crowd gathered around us。
Baba s spittle turned red。 He was biting his tongue。 I kneeled beside him and grabbed his arms and said I m here Baba； I m here； you ll be all right； I m right here。 As if I could soothe the convulsions out of him。 Talk them into leaving my Baba alone。 I felt a wetness on my knees。 Saw Baba s bladder had let go。 Shhh； Baba jan； I m here。 Your son is right here。
THE DOCTOR； white…bearded and perfectly bald； pulled me out of the room。 I want to go over your father s CAT scans with you； he said。 He put the films up on a viewing box in the hallway and pointed with the eraser end of his pencil to the pictures of Baba s cancer； like a cop showing mug shots of the killer to the victim s family。 Baba s brain on those pictures looked like cross sections of a big walnut； riddled with tennis ball…shaped gray things。
As you can see； the cancer s metastasized； he said。 He ll have to take steroids to reduce the swelling in his brain and antiseizure medications。 And I d remend palliative radiation。 Do you know what that means？
I said I did。 I d bee conversant in cancer talk。
All right； then； he said。 He checked his beeper。 I have to go； but you can have me paged if you have any questions。
Thank you。
I spent the night sitting on a chair next to Baba s bed。
THE NEXT MORNING； the waiting room down the hall was jammed with Afghans。 The butcher from Newark。 An engineer who d worked with Baba on his orphanage。 They filed in and paid Baba their respects in hushed tones。 Wished him a swift recovery。 Baba was awake then； groggy and tired； but awake。
Midmorning； General Taheri and his wife came。 Soraya followed。 We glanced at each other； looked away at the same time。 How are you； my friend？ General Taheri said； taking Baba s hand。
Baba motioned to the IV hanging from his arm。 Smiled thinly。 The general smiled back。
You shouldn t have burdened yourselves。 All of you； Baba croaked。
It s no burden； Khanum Taheri said。
No burden at all。 More importantly； do you need anything？ General Taheri said。 Anything at all？ Ask me like you d ask a brother。
I remembered something Baba had said about Pashtuns once。 We may be hardheaded and I know we re far too proud； but； in the hour of need； believe me that there s no one you d rather have at your side than a Pashtun。
Baba shook his head on the pillow。 Your ing here has brightened my eyes。 The general smiled and squeezed Baba s hand。 How are you； Amir jan？ Do you need anything？
The way he was looking at me； the kindness in his eyes。。。 Nay thank you； General Sahib。 I m。。。 A lump shot up in my throat and my eyes teared over。 I bolted out of the room。
I wept in the hallway； by the viewing box where； the night before； I d seen the killer s face。
Baba s door opened and Soraya walked out of his room。 She stood near me。 She was wearing a gray sweatshirt and jeans。 Her hair was down。 I wanted to find fort in her arms。
I m so sorry； Amir； she said。 We all knew something was wrong； but we had no idea it was this。
I blotted my eyes with my sleeve。 He didn t want anyone to know。
Do you need anything？
No。 I tried to smile。 She put her hand on mine。 Our first touch。 I took it。 Brought it to my face。 My eyes。 I let it go。 You d better go back inside。 Or your father will e after me。
She smiled and nodded。 I should。 She turned to go。 Soraya？
Yes？
I m happy you came； It means。。。 the world to me。
THEY DISCHARGED BABA two days later。 They brought in a specialist called a radiation oncologist to talk Baba into getting radiation treatment。 Baba refused。 They tried to talk me into talking him into it。 But I d seen the look on Baba s face。 I thanked them； signed their forms； and took Baba home in my Ford Torino。
That night； Baba was lying on the couch； a wool blanket covering him。 I brought him hot tea and roasted almonds。 Wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him up much too easily。 His shoulder blade felt