I turned onto the side street, and saw that the blind Tatar was there waiting to heckle me again. “Tuh,” I spat in his direction; that was all. Why doesn’t this biting cold freeze these vagrants to death?
As Hasan silently read the letter, I could barely maintain my patience. Finally, unable to restrain myself, I suddenly said “Yes?” and he began reading aloud:
My Dearest Shekure, you’ve requested that I complete your father’s book. You can be certain that I have no other goal. I visit your house for this reason; not to pester you, as you’d earlier indicated. I’m quite aware that my love for you is my own concern. Yet, due to this love, I’m unable properly to take up my pen and write what your father-my dear Uncle-has requested for his book. Whenever I sense your presence in the house, I seize up and am of no service to your father. I’ve mulled this over extensively and there can be but one cause: After twelve years, I’ve seen your face only once, when you showed yourself at the window. Now, I quite fear losing that vision. If I could once more see you close-up, I’d have no fear of losing you, and I could easily finish your father’s book. Yesterday, Shevket brought me to the abandoned house of the Hanged Jew. No one will see us there. Today, at whatever time you see fit, I’ll go there and wait for you. Yesterday, Shevket mentioned that you dreamt your husband had died.
Hasan read the letter mockingly, in places raising his already high-pitched voice even higher like a woman’s, and in places, emulating the trembling supplication of a lover who’d lost all reason. He made light of Black’s having written his wish “to see you just once” in Persian. He added, “As soon as Black saw that Shekure had given him some hope, he quickly began to negotiate. Such haggling isn’t something a genuine lover would resort to.”
“He’s genuinely in love with Shekure,” I said naively.
“This comment proves that you’ve taken Black’s side,” he said. “If Shekure has written that she dreamt my older brother was dead, it means she accepts her husband’s death.”
“That was just a dream,” I said like an idiot.
“I know how smart and cunning Shevket is. We lived together for many years! Without his mother’s permission and prodding, he’d never have taken Black to the house of the Hanged Jew. If Shekure thinks she’s through with my older brother-with us-she’s terribly mistaken! My older brother is still alive and he’ll return from the war.”
Before he had a chance to conclude, he went into the next room where he intended to light a candle, but succeeded only in burning his hand. He let out a howl. All the while licking the burn, he finally lit the candle and placed it beside a folding worktable. He produced a reed pen from its case, dipped it into an inkwell and began furiously writing on a small piece of paper. I sensed his pleasure at my watching him, and to show that I wasn’t afraid, I smiled exaggeratedly.
“Who is this Hanged Jew, you must know?” he asked.
“Just beyond these houses there’s a yellow one. They say that Moshe Hamon, the beloved doctor of the previous Sultan and the wealthiest of men, had for years hidden his Jewish mistress from Amasya and her brother there. Years ago in Amasya, on the eve of Passover, when a Greek youth supposedly ”disappeared“ in the Jewish quarter, people claimed that he’d been strangled so unleavened bread could be made from his blood. When false witnesses were brought forward, an execution of Jews began; however, the Sultan’s beloved doctor helped this beautiful woman and her brother escape, and hid them with the permission of the Sultan. After the Sultan died, His enemies couldn’t find the beautiful woman, but they hanged her brother, who’d been living alone.”
“If Shekure doesn’t wait for my brother to come back from the front, they’ll punish her,” said Hasan, handing me the letters.
No anger or wrath could be seen on his face, just the misfortune and sorrow particular to the love-stricken. I suddenly saw in his eyes how fast love had aged him. The money he’d begun to earn working in customs hadn’t made him more youthful at all. After all his offended grimaces and threats, it dawned on me that he might once again ask me how Shekure could be won over. But he’d come so close to becoming thoroughly evil that he could no longer ask. Once one accepts evil-and rejection in love is a significant cause for doing so-cruelty follows quickly. I became afraid of my thoughts and that terrible red sword the boys talked about, which severed whatever it touched; in my desperation to leave, in a near frenzy, I stumbled outside onto the street.
This was how I fell unwitting victim to the curses of the Tatar beggar. But I immediately pulled myself together. I softly dropped a small stone I’d picked off the ground into his handkerchief and said, “There you go, mangy Tatar.”
Without laughing, I watched his hand reach hopefully for the stone he thought was a coin. Ignoring his curses, I headed toward one of my “daughters,” whom I’d married off to a good husband.
That sweet “daughter” of mine served me a piece of spinach pie, a leftover, but still crisp. For the afternoon meal she was preparing lamb stew in a sauce heavy with beaten eggs and spiced with sour plum, just the way I like it. So as not to disappoint her, I waited and ate two full ladles with fresh bread. She’d also made a nice compote of stewed grapes. Without any hesitation, I requested some rose-petal jam, a spoonful of which I stirred into the compote before topping off my meal. Afterward, I went on to deliver the letters to my melancholy Shekure.
I, SHEKURE
I was in the midst of folding and putting away the clothes that had been washed and hung out to dry yesterday when Hayriye announced Esther had come…or, this was what I planned to tell you. But why should I lie? All right then, when Esther arrived, I was spying on my father and Black through the closet peephole, impatiently waiting for the letters from Black and Hasan, and thus, my mind was preoccupied with her. Just as I sensed that my father’s fears of death were justified, I also knew Black’s interest in me wasn’t eternal. He was in love insofar as he wanted to be married, and because he wanted to be married, he easily fell in love. If not me, he’d love. If not me, he’d marry another, taking care to fall in love with her beforehand.
In the kitchen, Hayriye sat Esther in a corner and handed her a glass of rosewater sherbet, as she gave me a guilty look. I realized that since Hayriye had become my father’s mistress, she might be reporting to him everything she sees. I’m afraid that this may indeed be the case.
“My black-eyed girl, my dark-fortuned beauty, my stunning beauty of beauties, I was delayed because Nesim, my pig of a husband, kept me occupied with all sorts of nonsense,” said Esther. “You have no husband senselessly haranguing you, and I hope you know the value of this.”
She took out the letters; I snatched them from her hand. Hayriye withdrew to a corner where she wouldn’t be in the way, but could still hear everything that passed between us. So Esther wouldn’t be able to see my expression, I turned my back on her and read Black’s letter first. When I thought about the house of the Hanged Jew, I shuddered for a moment. “Don’t be afraid, Shekure, you can manage in any situation,” I said to myself and began reading Hasan’s letter. He was on the verge of madness:
Shekure, I’m burning with desire, yet I know you’re not in the least concerned. In my dreams, I see myself chasing you over deserted hilltops. Every time you leave one of my letters-that I know you read-unanswered, a three-feathered arrow pierces my heart. I’m writing in hopes that you’ll respond this time. The word is out, everyone’s spreading the news, even your children are saying it: You’ve dreamed that your husband has died, and now you claim that you’re free. I cannot say whether or not it’s true. What I do know is that you’re still married to my older brother and bound to this household. Now that my father finds me justified, we’re both going to the judge to have you returned here. We’ll be coming with a group of men we’ve assembled; so let your father be forewarned. Collect your things, you’re to come back to this house. Send your response with Esther immediately.