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Esther’s grandmother had emigrated; it seems dreams were used as an excuse
to prove heretics met with the Devil and made love。 For example; even if
Esther’s forebears denied their Jewishness by declaring; “We’ve bee
Catholics like you;” the Jesuit torturers of the Portuguese Church;
unconvinced; would torture them; forcing them to describe the jinns and
demons of their dreams; as well as burdening them with dreams they never
had。 Then they’d force the Jews to confess these dreams so in the end they
could burn them at the stake。 In this way; dreams could be manipulated over
there; to show that people were having sex with the Devil and to accuse and
condemn Jews。
Dreams are good for three things:
ALIF:
You want something but you just can’t ask for it。 So you’ll say that
you’ve dreamed about it。 In this manner; you can ask for what you want
without actually asking for it。
156
The dreams we recount are never the ones we actually see in our sleep。
When people say they’ve “seen it;” they simply describe the dream that is
“dreamed” during the day; and there’s always an underlying purpose。 Only an
idiot would describe his actual nighttime dreams exactly as he’s had them。 If
you do; everyone will make fun of you or; as always; interpret the dream as a
bad omen。 No one takes real dreams seriously; including those who dream
them。 Or; pray tell; do you?
Through a dream that I half…heartedly recounted; I hinted that my husband
might truly be dead。 Though my father at first wouldn’t accept this as an
indication of the truth; after returning from the funeral; he was suddenly
persuaded by the evidence of the dream; and concluded that my husband was
indeed dead。 Thus; everyone not only believed that my husband; who was
virtually immortal these past four years; had died in a dream; they couldn’t
have been more certain of his death had it been officially announced。 It was
only then that the boys truly realized that they’d been left fatherless。 It was
then that they truly began to grieve。
“Do you ever have dreams?” I asked Shevket。
“Yes;” he said smiling。 “My father doesn’t return home; and I end up
marrying you。”
His narrow nose; dark eyes and broad shoulders resemble me more than his
father。 Occasionally; I feel guilty that I wasn’t able to pass on to my children
their father’s high; broad forehead。
“Go on then; play ”swordsman‘ with your brother。“
BA:
You want to harm someone。 For example; you want to slander a
woman。 So; you’ll say that such…and…such woman is mitting
adultery or that such…and…such pasha is pilfering wine by the jug。 I
dreamed it; you’ll say。 In this fashion; even if they don’t believe you; the
mere mention of the sinful deed is almost never forgotten。
DJIM:
You want something; but you don’t even know what it is。 So; you’ll
describe a confusing dream。 Your friends or family will immediately
interpret the dream and tell you what you need or what they can do for
you。 For example; they’ll say: You need a husband; a child; a house…
157
“Can we use father’s old sword?”
“Yes。”
For some time; I gazed at the ceiling; listening to the sounds of the boys’
swords striking each other; as I struggled to quell the fear and anxiety that was
brewing within me。 I went down to the kitchen and said to Hayriye: “My
father’s been asking for fish soup for quite some time now。 Maybe I ought to
send you to Galleon Harbor。 Why don’t you take a few strips of that dried
fruit pulp that Shevket likes out of its hiding place and let the kids have some。”
While Shevket was eating in the kitchen; Orhan and I went upstairs。 I lifted
him onto my lap and kissed his neck。
“You’re covered in sweat;” I said。 “What happened here?”
“Shevket hit me with our uncle’s red sword。”
“It’s bruised;” I said and touched the spot。 “Does it hurt? How thoughtless
our Shevket is。 Listen to what I have to say。 You’re very smart and sensitive。 I
have a request to make of you。 If you do what I say; I’ll tell you a secret that I
won’t tell Shevket or anyone else。”
“What is it?”
“Do you see this piece of paper? You’re to go to your grandfather; and
without letting him see; you’re to place this in Black Effendi’s hand。 Do you
understand?”
“I understand。”
“Will you do it?”
“What’s the secret?”
“Just take him the paper;” I said。 I once again kissed his neck; which smelled
fragrantly。 And while we’re on the subject of fragrance; it’s been so very long
since Hayriye has taken these boys to the public bath。 They haven’t gone since
Shevket’s thing began to rise in front of the women there。 “I’ll tell you the
secret later。” I kissed him。 “You’re very bright and very pretty。 Shevket’s a
nuisance。 He’d even have the audacity to lift a hand against his mother。”
“I’m not going to deliver this;” he said。 “I’m afraid of Black Effendi。 He’s
the one who killed my father。”
“Shevket told you this; didn’t he?” I said。 “Quick; go downstairs and tell
him to e here。”
158
Orhan could see the rage in my face。 Terrified; he slid off my lap and ran
out of the room。 Maybe he was even slightly pleased that Shevket was in
trouble。 A while later; both of them returned flushed and blushing。 Shevket
was holding a strip of dried fruit in one hand and a sword in the other。
“You’ve told your brother that Black was the one who killed your father;” I
said。 “I don’t ever want you to say such a thing in this house again。 You should
both show respect and affection to Black。 Do we understand each other? I
won’t allow you to live your entire lives without a father。”
“I don’t want him。 I’d rather return to our house; where Uncle Hasan lives;
and wait for my father;” Shevket said brazenly。
This made me so irate that I slapped him。 He hadn’t put the sword down; it
fell from his hand。
“I want my father;” he said through his tears。
But I was crying more than he was。
“You have no father anymore; he won’t be ing back;” I said tearfully。
“You’re fatherless; don’t you understand; you bastards。” I was crying so much
that I was afraid they’d heard me from within。
“We aren’t bastards;” said Shevket; crying。
We all cried long and hard。 Weeping softened my heart and I sensed that I
was crying because it made me a better person。 In our munal fit of tears;
we embraced each other and lay upon the roll…up mattress。 Shevket had
snuggled his head down between my breasts as if to nap。 Sometimes; he’d
cuddle up with me like this; as if we were stuck together; but I could sense that
he wasn’t sleeping。 I might’ve dozed off with them; except that my mind was
preoccupied with what was going on downstairs。 I could smell the sweet
aroma of boiling oranges。 I abruptly sat up in bed and made such a sound that
the boys awoke。
“Go downstairs; have Hayriye fill your stomachs。”
I was alone in the room。 Snow had begun to fall outside。 I begged for
Allah’s help。 Then I opened the Koran; and after once again reading the section
in the “Family of Imran” chapter which stated that those who were killed in
battle; who were killed on the path of Allah; would join Him; I put myself at
ease with regard to my deceased husband。 Had my father shown Black Our
Sultan’s as yet unfinished portrait? My father claimed that this portrait would
be so lifelike that whoever beheld it would avert his eyes out of fear; as
happened to those who tried to look directly into Our Glorious Sultan’s eyes。
159
I called for Orhan; and without lifting him onto my lap; kissed him at
length on the forehead; crown and cheeks。 “Now then; without being scared;
and without letting your grandfather see; you’re to give this paper to Black。 Do
you understand?”
“My tooth is loose。”
“When you get back; if you want; I’ll pull it out;” I said。 “You’re to sidle up
to him。 He’ll be at a loss for what to do and he’ll hug you。 Then you’ll secretly
place the paper into his hand。 Am I understood?”
“I’m afraid。”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of。 If it weren’t for Black; do you know who
wants to bee your father in his stead? Uncle Hasan! Do you want Uncle
Hasan to bee your father?”
“No。”
“All right then; let’s see you go; my pretty and smart Orhan;” I said。 “If not;
watch out; I’ll be really angry…And if you cry; I’ll get even angrier。”
I folded my letter several times; then stuck it into his small hand now
stretched out in hopelessness and resignation。 Allah; e to my aid so that
these fatherless children aren’t left to fend for themselves。 I escorted him to
the door; holding his hand。 At the threshold he looked at me fearfully one last
time。
I watched him through the peephole as he took his uncertain steps toward
the sofa; approached my father and Black; stopped; and momentarily
hesitated—unsure what to do。 He glanced back at the peephole looking for
me。 He began to cry。 But with one final effort he succeeded in surrendering
himself to Black’s lap。 Black; clever enough to have earned the right to be
father to my children; didn’t panic to find Orhan crying unaccountably on his
lap and he checked to see if there was anything in the boy’s hands。
Orhan returned beneath the startled gaze of my father; and I ran to meet
him and took him onto my lap; kissing him at length。 I brought him
downstairs to the kitchen; and filled his mouth with the raisins he liked so
much。
“Hayriye; take the boys to Galleon Harbor and buy some gray mullet
suitable for soup from Kosta’s place。 Take these silver coins and with the
change from the fish; buy Orhan some dried yellow figs and cherries on the
way back。 Buy Shevket roasted chickpeas and sweetmeat sausage with walnuts。
160
Walk them around to wherever they want to go until the evening prayers are
called; but be careful they don’t catch cold。”
After they’d bundled up and left; the quiet in the house pleased me。 I went
upstairs and took out the little mirror that my father…in…law had made and my
husband had given me as a gift。 I kept it hidden away between pillowcases that
smelled of lavender。 I hung it up。 If I looked at myself in the mirror from a
distance; and moved oh so delicately; I could see my whole body。 My vest of
red broadcloth suited me; but I also wanted to don my mother’s purple
blouse which had been part of her trousseau。 I took out the long pistachio…
colored robe my grandmother had embroidered with flowers; and tried it on;
but it didn’t please me。