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old sword to scare thieves off。
Black hastily returned with his money purse。 “Clothier woman；” he said；
making himself heard to the meddling landlady rather than myself。 “Take this
and bring it to our suffering patient。 If he has any response for me； I’ll be
waiting。 You can find me at Master Enishte’s house； where I’ll spend the rest
of the day。”
There’s no need for all of these games。 No cause for a young brave…heart like
Black to hide his amatory maneuvers； the signals he receives； the handkerchiefs
and letters he sends in pursuit of a maiden。 Or does he truly have his eye on
his landlady’s daughter？ At times； I didn’t trust Black at all and was afraid that
he was deceiving Shekure terribly。 How is it that； despite spending his entire
day with Shekure in the same house； he’s incapable of giving her a sign？
Once I was outside； I opened the purse。 It contained twelve silver coins and
a letter。 I was so curious about the letter that I nearly ran to Hasan。 Vegetable…
sellers had spread out cabbage； carrots and the rest in front of their shops。 But
I didn’t even have it in me to touch the plump leeks that were crying out to
me to fondle them。
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 plete 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
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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 ment 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 Jeed 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
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find the beautiful woman； but they hanged her brother； who’d been living
alone。“
“If Shekure doesn’t wait for my brother to e 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 e so close to being thoroughly evil that he could no
longer ask。 Once one accepts evil—and rejection in love is a significant cause
for doing so—cruelty folloe 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 pote of stewed grapes。 Without any hesitation； I
requested some rose…petal jam； a spoonful of which I stirred into the pote
before topping off my meal。 Afterward； I went on to deliver the letters to my
melancholy Shekure。
149
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
e…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 bee 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 des