well…bred and widowed； yet with her honor still intact—and set it pounding。
And to discover that the letter was from one of the usual suitors； would； at the
very least； fortify my resolve and forbearance to await my husband’s return。
But these days； every time Esther leaves； I bee confused and feel all the
more wretched。
I listened to the sounds of my world。 From the kitchen came the bubbling
sound of boiling water and the smell of lemons and onions。 Hayriye was
boiling zucchini。 Shevket and Orhan were frolicking and playing “swordsman”
in the courtyard beneath the pomegranate tree； I heard their shouts。 My father
was sitting silently in the next room。 I opened and read Hasan’s letter and was
reassured that there was no cause for alarm。 Still； I grew a little more
frightened of him； and congratulated myself for withstanding his efforts to
make love to me when we shared the same house。 Next； I read Black’s letter；
holding it gently as if it were some delicate and sensitive bird； and my
thoughts became muddled。 I didn’t read the letters again。 The sun broke
through the clouds and it occurred to me that if I’d entered Hasan’s
bedchamber one night and made love with him； no one； except Allah；
would’ve been the wiser。 He did resemble my missing husband； it’d be the
same thing。 Sometimes a strange thought like this entered my head。 As the sun
quickly warmed me； I could feel my body： my skin； my neck； even my nipples。
Orhan slipped inside as the sunlight struck me through the open door。
“Mama； what are you reading？” he said。
All right then； remember how I said that I didn’t reread the letters Esther
had just delivered？ I lied。 I was in the midst of reading them again。 This time； I
truly did fold them up and tuck them away in my blouse。
“e here； you； onto my lap；” I said to Orhan。 He did so。 “Oh my； you’re
so heavy。 May God protect you； you’ve gotten quite big；” I said and kissed
him。 “You’re as cold as ice…”
“You’re so warm； Mama；” he interrupted； leaning back onto my bosom。
We were leaning tight against each other； enjoying sitting that way in
silence。 I smelled the nape of his neck and kissed him。 I hugged him even more
tightly。 We were still。
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“I’m feeling ticklish；” he said later。
“Tell me then；” I said in my serious voice。 “If the Sultan of the Jinns came
and said he’d grant you a wish； what would you want most of all？”
“I’d want Shevket to go away。”
“What besides？ Would you want to have a father？”
“No； when I grow up I’m going to marry you myself。”
It wasn’t aging； losing one’s beauty or even being bereft of husband and
money that was the worst of all calamities； what was truly horrible was not
having anyone to be jealous of you。 I lowered Orhan’s warming body from my
lap。 Thinking that a wicked woman like myself ought to wed someone with a
good soul； I went up to see my father。
“His Excellency Our Sultan will reward you after seeing for Himself that His
book has been pleted；” I said。 “You’ll go to Venice again。”
“I cannot be certain；” said my father。 “This murder has distressed me。 Our
enemies are apparently quite powerful。”
“I know； as well； that my own situation has emboldened them； giving rise
to misunderstandings and unfounded hopes。”
“How do you mean？”
“I ought to be wed as soon as possible。”
“What？” said my father。 “To whom？ But you are married。 Where did this
notion e from？” he asked。 “Who’s asked for your hand？ Even if we were to
find a reasonable and appealing prospect；” said my reasonable father； “I doubt
we’d be able to take him； not like that； you understand。” He summed up my
unfortunate situation as follows： “You’re aware that there are weighty and
plicated matters we must settle before you can marry again。” After a
protracted silence； he added； “Is it that you want to leave me； my dear
daughter？”
“Last night I dreamed that my husband had died；” I said。 I didn’t cry the
way a woman who’d actually seen such a dream would have。
“Like those who know how to read a picture； one should know how to read
a dream。”
“Would you consider it appropriate for me to describe my dream？”
There was a pause： We smiled at each other； quickly inferring—as intelligent
people do—all possible conclusions from the matter at hand。
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“By interpreting your dream； I might be convinced of his death； yet your
father…in…law； your brother…in…law and the judge； who is obligated to listen to
them； will demand more proof。”
“Two years have passed since I returned here with the children and my in…
laws haven’t been able to force me back…”
“Because they very well realize that they have their own misdeeds to answer
for；” said my father。 “This doesn’t mean that they’ll be willing to let you
petition for a divorce。”
“If we were followers of the Maliki or the Hanbeli sects；” I said； “the judge；
acknowledging that four years have passed； would grant me a divorce in
addition to securing a support allowance for me。 But since we are； many
thanks to Allah； Hanefis； this option is not open to us。”
“Don’t mention the üsküdar judge’s Shafüte stand…in to me。 That’s not a
sound venture。”
“All the women of Istanbul whose husbands are missing at the front go to
him with their witnesses to get divorced。 Since he’s a Shafüte； he simply asks；
”Is your husband missing？“ ”How long has he been missing？“ ”Are you having
trouble making ends meet？“ ”Are these your witnesses？“ and immediately
grants the divorce。”
“My dear Shekure； who’s planted such schemes in your head？” he said。
“Who’s stripped you of your reason？”
“After I’m divorced once and for all； if there is a man who can truly strip
me of my reason； you will； of course； tell me who that might be and I shall
never question your decision about my husband。”
My shrewd father； realizing that his daughter was as shrewd as he； began to
blink。 My father would blink rapidly like this for three reasons： 1。 because he
was in a tight spot and his mind was racing to find a clever way out； 2。 because
he was on the verge of tears of hopelessness and sorrow； 3。 because he was in a
tight spot； cunningly bining reasons 1 and 2 to give the impression that he
might soon cry out of sorrow。
“Are you taking the children and abandoning your old father？ Do you
realize that on account of our book”—yes； he said “our book”—“I was afraid
of being murdered； but now that you want to take the children and leave； I
wele death。”
“My dear father； wasn’t it you who always said that only a divorce could
save me from that good…for…nothing brother…in…law？”
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“I don’t want you to abandon me。 One day your husband might return。
Even if he doesn’t； there’s no harm in your being married—so long as you live
in this house with your father。”
“I want nothing more than to live in this house with you。”
“Darling； weren’t you just now saying that you wanted to get married as
soon as possible？”
This is the dead end you reach by arguing with your father： In due course；
you too will be convinced that you’re in the wrong。
“I was；” I said； gazing at the ground in front of me。 Then； holding back my
tears and encouraged by the truth of what came to mind； I said：
“All right then； shall I never be married again？”
“There’s a special place in my heart for the son…in…law who won’t take you
far from me。 Who is your suitor； would he be willing to live here with us in
this house？”
I fell silent。 We both knew； of course； that my father would never respect a
son…in…law willing to live here together with us； and would gradually demean
and stifle him。 And as Father’s underhanded and expert belittling of the man
who’d moved in with his bride’s family proceeded I would soon want to be
that wife no more。
“Without a father’s approval； in your situation； you know that getting
married is practically impossible； don’t you？ I don’t want you to get married；
and I refuse to grant you permission to do so—”
“I don’t want to get married； I want a divorce。”
“—because some thoughtless beast of a man who cares about nothing but
his own concerns might hurt you。 You know how much I love you； don’t you；
my dear Shekure？ Besides； we must finish this book。”
I said nothing。 For if I were to speak—prompted by the Devil； who was
aware of my anger—I would tell my father right to his face that I knew he
slept with Hayriye at night。 But would it befit a woman like me to admit that
she knew that her elderly father slept with a slave girl？
“Who is it that wants to marry you？”
I gazed at the ground before me and barrassment；
but out of anger。 And recognizing the extent of my anger； but not being able to
respond in some manner made me even more furious。 At that juncture； I
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imagined my father and Hayriye in bed in that ridiculous and disgusting
position。 I was on the verge of tears when I said：
“There’s zucchini on the stove； I don’t want it to burn。”
I crossed to the room beside the staircase； the one with the always…closed
window that looked out onto the well。 In the dark； quickly locating the roll…up
mattress with my hands； I spread it open and lay down： Ah； what a wonderful
feeling； to lie down and fall asleep in a fit of tears like a child who’s been
wrongly chastised！ And what agony it is to know that I’m the only person in
the world who likes me。 As I cry in my solitude； only you； who hear my sobs
and moans； can e to my aid。
A while later； I found that Orhan had stretched out upon my bed。 He placed
his head between my breasts。 I saw that he was sighing； and crying too。 Pulling
him close to me； I held him。
“Don