Endgame, page 34
I am a human being.
You wrote this.
And those you write about cannot be other than what they are.
They cannot.
XLVII
When I woke that fairy-tale town was gone.
The shimmering golden dome, the beach, the sand-coloured houses, the palm trees, the oleander, the olive trees, the vineyards, the little squares and narrow streets, the plane trees, the flower gardens, the jasmine and honeysuckle and the clementine trees, this perfect town was dark under a cloud of thick black smoke. It was now nothing but a ruin that reeked of smoke and ash.
Even the sea was dark.
Columns of smoke rose from all corners.
And a terrifying silence reigned.
The town was now no different from the ruined church up on the hill.
I’d slept through the whole day and the sun was now setting.
Hamiyet hadn’t come.
The house was steeped in a crepuscular gloom, the caramel-coloured stones darkened and cold.
It seemed abandoned.
I threw on some clothes and instinctively put my gun in my belt; there was something eerie about the smoke-scented silence.
I went out onto the veranda and ate a little stale bread and cheese that I’d scraped together in the kitchen.
Then I shut and locked the door to the veranda and went upstairs to pack my bags.
In pursuit of this chimerical treasure they ended up burning the actual prize.
There was nothing left for me to do here.
It is difficult to explain the sadness and grief I felt then as I knew I was on brink of leaving not only the town but Zuhal – I would never see her again.
As my life was barrelling forward in one direction, the word fine had switched the tracks and like a train I was off in another direction.
I’d grown fond of the place.
There was something enchanting about it; you had the feeling of looking out over it from a distance when the surroundings were actually quietly drawing you in, making you a part of them.
I had become a part of the town and it had become a part of me.
Like an ice breaker, Zuhal had cleared a way forward for me and I was consumed by the entire town and all its people and their struggles and their lies and the murders and dark desires. To leave a place knowing that you would never return, that you would never see the people there again and that among those people there was a woman with whom you had shared dreams and with whom you had imagined a future, makes the moment of departure that much more difficult.
That moment suddenly seemed so difficult that I actually considered staying.
It was enticing to think of sharing an intimate moment with Zuhal again, meeting her on the street somewhere or in a restaurant, but at the same time I knew how painful this would be, stripping me of all my strength, turning me into a wretched fool.
And Zuhal would sense this.
In fact that would be the moment I would truly lose her.
I knew that not seeing her didn’t mean losing her. I wasn’t going to see her again but I was always going to be a part of her life, hidden behind a secret door, resting like a place of worship, and sometimes she would come in to look at what we’d lived through together.
I suppose the fear that I would ruin this place weighed heavily on me.
I was all the more resolved to leave.
I wondered what they would do with my books after they were married. Would they burn them? Throw them away? Or would Mustafa simply dismiss them, tucking them away in some corner of their home?
What strange thoughts people have.
How much importance is placed on the trivial in moments like these.
It was one of the rare moments when solitude was painful.
Like an empty hotel room, the bed in disarray after love-making and empty plates strewn over the table.
The memories remained there but the creators of those memories were gone.
Darkness was falling.
The town was sinking into the darkening sky.
The last wisps of daylight seemed darker.
I don’t know why but I wanted to slip into the dusk.
I felt so helpless and so powerless then that I was seized by the horrific thought that those emotions might stay with me for the rest of my life. I suppose I wasn’t thinking clearly, or perhaps I wasn’t thinking at all. I had given in to fragile and feeble emotions, and they were driving me to make all the wrong decisions.
I put my suitcase on an armchair and sat down.
‘I’ll leave in the morning,’ I said.
No doubt I was fooling myself, hoping that in the morning I would change my mind and stay; in deciding to go I had actually decided to stay but I couldn’t admit this to myself, as conflicting thoughts and emotions waged a civil war in my head, a war in which I could not take a side.
There and then I understood why people cannot tolerate solitude for very long and have a pressing need for the company of others. I understood this as the town vanished into the smoke and the encroaching darkness, and in the twilight a giant serpent slowly wrapped around my body, pressing down on me, and with the coming darkness I felt the need to find another human being, someone to push this oppressive weight off my shoulders.
Someone to save me.
I was in no state to get up and go or wait till morning.
I was collapsing into darkness, like the town.
Collapsing in on myself.
I couldn’t breathe.
There have been very few moments in my life when I felt so helpless and alone.
I would have sacrificed nearly anything simply to hear a voice.
Did God then hear the bartering in my mind? I don’t know.
Was he listening and then came to an agreement without consulting me?
The phone rang.
I remember that the last red dot of the setting sun was just disappearing into the sea.
I was so jittery that I dropped the receiver.
When I finally got it up against my ear I heard that teasing voice.
‘Oh, so excited you dropped the phone then?’
‘Yes. I really did.’
‘What are you doing? Getting ready to go?’
The woman had spine-chilling intuitive powers.
‘Yes.’
‘Raci just called to tell me that their meetings would be going on till morning. Gülten’s in the city and I sent our bodyguards and servants to tend to their families. So you see, I’m all alone in this big house. Come to say goodbye if you want. Would you like that?’
‘I would very much.’
‘But no sweets … We’ll just have a chat and say goodbye. Still want to come?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, then come over. But don’t come by car. The place is swarming with gendarmes and police, and the car will only attract attention. You can take a minibus from the neighbouring village. They pass through. And if you can’t find one now then you can walk. Are you willing to walk that far?’
‘Yes.’
‘But I’ll say it again, no sweets … Still willing to walk?’
‘Yes.’
‘Fine, then. Come on over.’
I didn’t know then that I had come to the end of my life on earth. A little earlier I’d felt dead to the world, suffocating in grief and solitude, but after this conversation my emotions were sent into a tailspin, whipping up such an overwhelming feeling of joy and excitement that I wasn’t sure if what I’d felt just two minutes ago was real.
Human emotions can turn on a sixpence, flitting from one extreme to another, swinging from branch to branch like an ape, forgetting altogether the tree just left behind.
I put on a thin jacket and left the house.
I made my way down to the centre of town through the narrow and deserted back streets; the curtains of all the houses had been drawn and the streets were dark.
The centre of town was full of burned out shops, charred bits of boards scattered over the streets and broken glass that crunched under my feet. Columns of smoke rose up into the sky.
Soldiers and policemen were standing guard on the street corners.
And no one else was there.
Even the dogs were gone.
The streets were completely empty.
I headed out of town.
I estimated it would take me about half an hour to get there.
I heard a minibus behind me, and I started at first and stepped to the side of the road. Then I reasoned that with so many police and gendarmes around the hit men wouldn’t be out.
I flagged the minibus down.
It stopped.
There were no passengers inside.
I got in feeling a little scared, as the driver and his assistant might very well be hit men.
I checked my gun with my elbow just to be sure.
There was a bullet in the chamber and it would go off with a single squeeze of the trigger. This put me at ease.
I kept my hand on the butt of my gun throughout the trip, watching the two men softly speaking to each other.
I got off near Kamile’s place.
I had to pass a squad of soldiers.
The broad garden gate was open and it seem like no one was there.
I walked to the house and stepped up onto the veranda but the door swung open before I could knock.
She had a pleasant smile on her face.
‘So you did come even though there are no sweets … Are you that lonely?’
‘I don’t need loneliness to feel the need to see you.’
‘Oh God, always a quick answer. Come in.’
I stepped inside.
All the lights were on.
‘What’s it like out there?’ she asked.
‘Like a body torn to pieces.’
She grimaced.
‘One idiot’s stupidity … It’s completely ruined.’
She sat down opposite me, her skirt rolled up far over her knees. I looked and she laughed: ‘Your mind’s on the sweets, no? But none for you tonight!’
‘So be it. What’s there to do then?’
I knew that it wasn’t the right place for us to make love but she must have felt that anything could have happened in that enormous house; and I did too, though neither of us really wanted it. We both felt that strange rush of desire, a rising heat, as we sat there quietly across from each other.
I couldn’t stop looking at her legs.
‘If someone comes, you can say that you called to say goodbye and that I invited you over for a cup of coffee. And that you then stayed for dinner. Are you hungry?’
Looking at her legs, I said, ‘Yes.’ And she laughed.
‘I’m talking about food.’
‘Oh, I’m hungry for that too.’
This woman had a strange power over me, driving nearly every other thought out of my mind.
‘I’ll make something for us to eat then. I sent the girls away so I’ll have to do it myself.’
‘I’ll help you,’ I said.
I couldn’t help but think of how we searched for coffee in my kitchen the first time she came over.
‘Why not,’ she said, and we went to the kitchen together. As we set the plates and silverware and warmed up some food, I was close to her, our bodies touching, and then she rubbed her hips up against me as she pretended to look for something on a shelf.
I couldn’t resist: I stuck my hand up her skirt.
She grabbed my hand. ‘I said no sweets tonight.’
But she had turned to face me and as she turned away she pushed her ass right into me; she was certainly having fun.
‘Feeling the fire?’ she quipped.
‘Oh yes.’
‘I can see.’
We sat down across from each other at a long table.
Suddenly she was serious.
‘I wanted to thank you,’ she said.
‘For what?’
‘For saving Rahmi’s life.’
Then she became truly angry, a kind of anger I had never seen before.
‘They were going to kill Rahmi. If you hadn’t pulled him under the car they would have shot him, and I won’t forgive them for this. They would have shot him there and left him for dead.’
Her rage was different from any of the others in her family. It wasn’t threatening. It was eerily decisive. She wouldn’t forgive them. It was clear she didn’t leave any room for anyone to doubt her.
‘I didn’t do anything,’ I said.
She smiled, turning back to her old self.
‘Now, enough with your chivalry …’
‘Really.’
‘Why did you do it?’
‘I hit the deck then pulled him down with me … Nothing more.’
‘And not just him, you saved us all, the entire family, because if something had happened to Rahmi we would have been torn apart …’
She paused and flashed that teasing smile.
‘Of course Rahmi will never repay the debt to you but I’ll give you everything I have … Are you going back to the city?’
‘Yes.’
‘When?’
‘Tomorrow morning.’
‘Will you think of those sweets when you’re there?’
‘Everywhere I go.’
‘Good. Then I’ll make a point of going there often. We’ll be more comfortable there. More time.’
She smiled. I had never seen a lustier smile in all my days. The smile reminded me of how she made love, insatiable, selfish lust swirling in her eyes.
We cleared the table together, our bodies touching.
Then we made coffee.
And she sat down across from me again.
Her legs crossed, she pulled up her skirt a little higher. ‘Have a good look then. You like to look. So take a good look now because you won’t be able to for some time.’
I sipped my coffee as I gazed at her legs.
I knew that it wouldn’t be easy to find another woman like her, a woman as lusty and a woman who so openly showed it.
I felt strangely addicted to her.
Towards ten, I said, ‘I should get going.’
She looked at her watch.
‘Have another cigarette before you go.’
As I was lighting my cigarette, the telephone rang.
She picked up.
The expression on her face changed.
It was the same expression that fell over her face when she’d said, ‘I won’t forgive him.’
‘Tell me when they leave,’ she said and hung up.
‘What’s up?’ I asked.
‘Oh nothing … Mustafa and his people are going to the city tonight.’
‘There’s no plane at this hour.’
‘They’re going by car.’
Then I understood.
Indeed I had already sensed it: she was the one who was making all the decisions.
She was the one who wouldn’t forgive them for what they had almost done to Rahmi.
They were informing Kamile Hanım, not Raci Bey, about Mustafa’s movements, which meant she had her own foot soldiers. I had already seen how the family bodyguards were sensitive around her, the way they held themselves with her, and how she gave them orders.
Suddenly I panicked and said, almost pleading, ‘Don’t do it.’
She flashed me a stern look.
‘Don’t do what?’
‘Don’t do anything to Mustafa’s people.’
‘Are you mad? I wouldn’t do anything to them. You think I have that kind of power? If I could, of course I would. I wouldn’t let them fire at Rahmi like that and then just up and leave, but all the same I don’t have the power to do anything.’
‘He wasn’t the one firing at Rahmi. The shooting just suddenly broke out and Rahmi was caught in the middle.’
‘If Mustafa hadn’t spurred them on, who would have even dared to start shooting in the first place?’
Beads of sweat were forming on my brow.
‘Don’t do it,’ I said again.
‘Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do what? Just what do you think I’m going to do? And then what’s it to you? The guy ran off with your girl and you’re telling me don’t do it … You’re really one of a kind.’
I wasn’t listening to her any more.
‘Please don’t do it,’ I said.
She looked into my eyes and suddenly seemed so far away, like a stranger.
‘You’re in love with that girl, aren’t you? That’s why you’re so paranoid, thinking that I’m going to do something to them. You’re panicking because you think something will happen to her. Now look, you should know better than to act like this. To fall in love with a girl like that. I can understand why you’d like her. You’d like any woman who’s willing to have you in bed. But to fall in love with her … and with a worthless girl like that. She’s pathetic. Mustafa this and Mustafa that, wandering about town, giving every man she sees the glad eye … God knows what she does with the men she consults for.’
‘I’m not in love with her.’
‘Then what’s this all about? You’ve suddenly lost your mind, dreaming things up. Jumping to conclusions after one telephone call. You’re insane.’
‘I’m worried about Mustafa. I don’t want anything to happen to either of them. Just let them go. You can stop this.’
‘Look, let me tell you something, you’re dreaming, making up all sorts of things, and anyway I’d only go ahead and do something about this if I had the power to do it. I’ll never forgive him for what he’s done. And if the men in this town have any balls they won’t forgive him either. So many people killed, the place burnt to the ground … and he’s just going to leave as if nothing’s happened? And he is … Now, maybe I can’t stop him myself but I would kiss the hand of anyone who did.’
She stopped and looked at me gravely, then smiled.
‘You should go and get some sleep. Forget all this and so will I. Because I don’t think we’ll ever be the same now that I’ve seen you this way. Go now, so I can forget all this.’
I suddenly realised how ridiculous I was being and I felt ashamed; I was probably blushing. It was just that imagining Mustafa and Zuhal blown to pieces in their car made me panic. I was tired, and on edge.
I laughed.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just that so many people have been killed and I guess that’s all that’s on my mind. Will I never taste those sweets again?’
