The Kite Runner: Parody
Jill Endaya
Hour 2
Crump – Fiction 214
Kite Runnin’: The Kite Runner Parody
December 2001 I’m not who I am because of where I went to college, or what I’ve done… it’s what I saw at the age of twelve in the winter of 1975. This incident changed my life forever… the alley changed my life forever. Hannah was my best friend, a girl yes, but none-the-less, my best friend. Who am I? I am Amy. Yes, probably the most feminine name you could ever give a boy, but I’m not feminine at all. Or am I? Maybe sometimes.
Papa told me that my mother really wanted a giggling baby girl. When I was born and I wasn’t that baby girl, she named me Amy instead. She died that night. Papa always said that I would never live up to my name. I knew I never would …show more content…
either.
As I lapse back from that memory, (because I tend to do that quite often) I receive a phone call from my home back in Afghanistan. The operator didn’t give a name, but I answered anyway… and all I heard was “there is a way to be good again.” who is this?! “there is a way to be good again.” HELLO?! “there is a way to be good again.” is this a prank call?! “there is a way to be good again.”
December 1975 We were sitting in the maple tree above a mound of dirt up the hill, over hill, over dale, where my best friend and I loved to hang out and read books.
I cleared my throat, and read “I do not like them here or there, I do not like them anywhere. I would not eat green eggs and ham. I do not like them. Sam I am.” I look at Hannah while she smiled at me and her lazy eye tried to look at me as well. Hannah was born with a lazy eye. It freaked me out. I never told her though, because I thought it would be too… well, feminine to bring up something like that. And I am by no means feminine. Just born with a feminine name. That reminds me of a …show more content…
memory…
It was a cold dark night when we were playing in the kitchen…
OH! oops. Getting off subject again. Ugh, I hate my memory lapses. I’ve been trying to kick the habit. ANYWAY. Hannah simply asks, “What does that word mean?”
“What word…?” I asked, trying to remember what we were even talking about.
“Eggs.”
“Do you really not know what that word means? Everyone at my school knows what it means. Everyone AND their mom knows what it means!” She slowly put her head down in embarrassment. “Let’s see. How to explain it…. egg. It means… smart. Intelligent. You know, like ‘Hannah, when it comes to words, are not egg.’”
“Oh…Amy agha! That makes plenty sense!”
This same day, Papa asked us to come inside. As soon as we walked in, he joyously said, “Hannah, meet your birthday present!” There were no toys, books, or boxes wrapped in sight. An eye surgeon stood in the middle of our living room and half-heartedly smiled at us. “Hannah, Dr. Facefixer can fix things…. Especially deficiencies of the face.” We all knew what this meant. Two days later after the surgery, I saw Hannah actually look at me. And I mean actually look at me, through her brand new non-lazy-eye. Hannah could see the world through a much ‘wider’ perspective. Which was ironic, because that was the winter Hannah stopped wanting to see the world.
Winter is the most popular time in Afghanistan because children in all neighborhoods have the chance to participate in Kite Running. Today was the day for me and Hannah. We were going to win.
“You can do it, you can do it, Amy agha! Just fly high and cut low!”
“I can’t do it, Hannah! I can’t!”
“YES YOU CAN!” And as soon as ‘can’ came out of her mouth, I cut the last beautiful kite in the sky. “Bravo! BRAVO AMY AGHA!”
“Will you run this kite for me, Hannah?”
“…um no.”
“Please?!”
“No. I’m tired and I really don’t feel like it.”
“PLEASE?!”
“Okay, fine Amy agha. Only because you’re my best friend.” As she ran off into the distance, she just kept yelling “For you a thousand times over, for you a thousand times over, for you a thousand times over!” I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, or why she was saying it so many times… but I knew it was something sentimental. I slowly but surely stayed within close proximity of Hannah as she kept sprinting and sprinting toward the descending kite.
The kite took a sharp corner and she followed right with it. As soon as she turned the corner, Ash and his two groupies were standing in the back alley. I wasn’t scared at all… no. I, Amy, am a very brave boy. But I just wanted to watch from afar. As I watched from the distance, I witnessed Ash and his compadres change Hannah forever. They pushed her in the corner and forced her to…. eat broccoli. It was the worst thing I had ever seen in my life and I did nothing to help her. It not only changed my life, but Hannah’s life forever too. I could never forgive myself for this incident… or I could I?
Later in 1975 to 1976ish…
Hannah and I stopped talking. I just avoided her at all cost. I kept trying to get Papa to kick them out of our house…but I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened to her in the alley.
March 1981
We were split up forever. I never saw Hannah again. At the time, I thought it was the best time of my life. A new start and a new time to make new friends. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened to Hannah in the alley.
California June 2001… or something like that.
I met a woman named Sam. We married, but couldn’t have children. Adoption wasn’t a choice, but what other choices were there? All I could think about was that darn alley situation… STILL.
December
2001 “There’s a way to be good again” flew in and out of my head like a kite. Who was this anonymous person, and what did he mean by this? I think he meant there was a way to forgive myself for what happen to Hannah in the alley. I flew to Afghanistan, and somehow found out that Hannah had a child, and I wanted to adopt her. There were many obstacles to overcome to get her, including a confrontation to Ash. Things were said, punches… were thrown, mostly at me. ( and NO, not because I’m feminine!) But in the end, I forced HIM to eat broccoli, and I never heard from him again. I felt… good again. I was good again. For you, Hannah, a million times under. For you a thousand times under? For you a million times over? Oh! I know! it’s ‘For you a thousand times over.’ …Yeah, that sounds right.
Hour 2
Crump – Fiction 214
Kite Runnin’: The Kite Runner Parody
December 2001 I’m not who I am because of where I went to college, or what I’ve done… it’s what I saw at the age of twelve in the winter of 1975. This incident changed my life forever… the alley changed my life forever. Hannah was my best friend, a girl yes, but none-the-less, my best friend. Who am I? I am Amy. Yes, probably the most feminine name you could ever give a boy, but I’m not feminine at all. Or am I? Maybe sometimes.
Papa told me that my mother really wanted a giggling baby girl. When I was born and I wasn’t that baby girl, she named me Amy instead. She died that night. Papa always said that I would never live up to my name. I knew I never would …show more content…
either.
As I lapse back from that memory, (because I tend to do that quite often) I receive a phone call from my home back in Afghanistan. The operator didn’t give a name, but I answered anyway… and all I heard was “there is a way to be good again.” who is this?! “there is a way to be good again.” HELLO?! “there is a way to be good again.” is this a prank call?! “there is a way to be good again.”
December 1975 We were sitting in the maple tree above a mound of dirt up the hill, over hill, over dale, where my best friend and I loved to hang out and read books.
I cleared my throat, and read “I do not like them here or there, I do not like them anywhere. I would not eat green eggs and ham. I do not like them. Sam I am.” I look at Hannah while she smiled at me and her lazy eye tried to look at me as well. Hannah was born with a lazy eye. It freaked me out. I never told her though, because I thought it would be too… well, feminine to bring up something like that. And I am by no means feminine. Just born with a feminine name. That reminds me of a …show more content…
memory…
It was a cold dark night when we were playing in the kitchen…
OH! oops. Getting off subject again. Ugh, I hate my memory lapses. I’ve been trying to kick the habit. ANYWAY. Hannah simply asks, “What does that word mean?”
“What word…?” I asked, trying to remember what we were even talking about.
“Eggs.”
“Do you really not know what that word means? Everyone at my school knows what it means. Everyone AND their mom knows what it means!” She slowly put her head down in embarrassment. “Let’s see. How to explain it…. egg. It means… smart. Intelligent. You know, like ‘Hannah, when it comes to words, are not egg.’”
“Oh…Amy agha! That makes plenty sense!”
This same day, Papa asked us to come inside. As soon as we walked in, he joyously said, “Hannah, meet your birthday present!” There were no toys, books, or boxes wrapped in sight. An eye surgeon stood in the middle of our living room and half-heartedly smiled at us. “Hannah, Dr. Facefixer can fix things…. Especially deficiencies of the face.” We all knew what this meant. Two days later after the surgery, I saw Hannah actually look at me. And I mean actually look at me, through her brand new non-lazy-eye. Hannah could see the world through a much ‘wider’ perspective. Which was ironic, because that was the winter Hannah stopped wanting to see the world.
Winter is the most popular time in Afghanistan because children in all neighborhoods have the chance to participate in Kite Running. Today was the day for me and Hannah. We were going to win.
“You can do it, you can do it, Amy agha! Just fly high and cut low!”
“I can’t do it, Hannah! I can’t!”
“YES YOU CAN!” And as soon as ‘can’ came out of her mouth, I cut the last beautiful kite in the sky. “Bravo! BRAVO AMY AGHA!”
“Will you run this kite for me, Hannah?”
“…um no.”
“Please?!”
“No. I’m tired and I really don’t feel like it.”
“PLEASE?!”
“Okay, fine Amy agha. Only because you’re my best friend.” As she ran off into the distance, she just kept yelling “For you a thousand times over, for you a thousand times over, for you a thousand times over!” I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, or why she was saying it so many times… but I knew it was something sentimental. I slowly but surely stayed within close proximity of Hannah as she kept sprinting and sprinting toward the descending kite.
The kite took a sharp corner and she followed right with it. As soon as she turned the corner, Ash and his two groupies were standing in the back alley. I wasn’t scared at all… no. I, Amy, am a very brave boy. But I just wanted to watch from afar. As I watched from the distance, I witnessed Ash and his compadres change Hannah forever. They pushed her in the corner and forced her to…. eat broccoli. It was the worst thing I had ever seen in my life and I did nothing to help her. It not only changed my life, but Hannah’s life forever too. I could never forgive myself for this incident… or I could I?
Later in 1975 to 1976ish…
Hannah and I stopped talking. I just avoided her at all cost. I kept trying to get Papa to kick them out of our house…but I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened to her in the alley.
March 1981
We were split up forever. I never saw Hannah again. At the time, I thought it was the best time of my life. A new start and a new time to make new friends. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened to Hannah in the alley.
California June 2001… or something like that.
I met a woman named Sam. We married, but couldn’t have children. Adoption wasn’t a choice, but what other choices were there? All I could think about was that darn alley situation… STILL.
December
2001 “There’s a way to be good again” flew in and out of my head like a kite. Who was this anonymous person, and what did he mean by this? I think he meant there was a way to forgive myself for what happen to Hannah in the alley. I flew to Afghanistan, and somehow found out that Hannah had a child, and I wanted to adopt her. There were many obstacles to overcome to get her, including a confrontation to Ash. Things were said, punches… were thrown, mostly at me. ( and NO, not because I’m feminine!) But in the end, I forced HIM to eat broccoli, and I never heard from him again. I felt… good again. I was good again. For you, Hannah, a million times under. For you a thousand times under? For you a million times over? Oh! I know! it’s ‘For you a thousand times over.’ …Yeah, that sounds right.