“Yes they will！” I said。 “None of the children in that city have a mother or a
father。 Hayriye； go downstairs and check the doors again。 We’ll probably be
asleep by the middle of the story。”
“I won’t fall asleep；” said Orhan。
“Where is Black going to sleep tonight？” said Shevket。
“In the workshop；” I said。 “Snuggle up tight to your mother so we can
warm up nicely under the quilt。 Whose icy little feet are these？”
“Mine；” said Shevket。 “Where will Hayriye sleep？”
I’d begun telling the story； and as always； Orhan fell asleep first； after
which I lowered my voice。
“After I fall asleep； you’re not going to leave the bed； right； Mama？” said
Shevket。
“No； I won’t leave。”
I really didn’t intend to leave。 After Shevket fell asleep； I was musing about
how pleasurable it was to fall asleep cuddled up with my sons on the night of
my second wedding—with my handsome； intelligent and desirous husband in
the next room。 I’d dozed off with such thoughts； but my sleep was fitful。 Later；
this is what I remembered about that strange restless realm between dreaming
and wakefulness： First I settled accounts with my deceased father’s angry
spirit； then I fled the specter of that disgraceful murderer who wanted to send
me off to be with my father。 As he pursued me； the unyielding murderer； even
more terrifying than my father’s spirit； began making a clattering ruckus。 In
my dream； he tossed stones at our house。 They struck the windows and landed
on the roof。 Later； he tossed a rock at the door； at one point even trying to
force it open。 Next； when this evil spirit began to wail like some ungodly
animal； my heart began to pound。
I awoke covered in sweat。 Had I heard those sounds in my dream or had I
been awakened by sounds from somewhere in the house？ I couldn’t decide；
and so snuggled up with the children； and without moving； I waited。 I’d nearly
assured myself that the noises were only in my sleep when I heard the same
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wail。 Just then； something large landed in the courtyard with a bang。 Was this
also a rock； perhaps？
I was paralyzed with terror。 But the situation immediately got worse： I
heard noises from within the house。 Where was Hayriye？ In which room had
Black fallen asleep？ In what state was my father’s pitiful corpse？ My God； I
prayed； protect us。 The children were deep asleep。
Had this happened before I was married； I’d have risen from bed； and
taking charge of the situation like the man of the house； I’d have suppressed
my fears and scared away the jinns and spirits。 In my present condition；
however； I cowered and hugged the children。 It was as if there were no one else
in the world。 Nobody was going to e to the aid of the children and me。
Expecting something awful to happen； I prayed to Allah for deliverance。 As in
my dreams； I was alone。 I heard the courtyard gate open。 It was the courtyard
gate； wasn’t it？ Yes； absolutely。
I rose abruptly； grabbed my robe and quitted the room without even
knowing myself what I was doing。
“Black！” I hissed from the top of the stairs。
After hastily donning shoes； I descended the stairs。 The candle I’d lit at the
brazier blew out as soon as I stepped out onto the courtyard’s stone walkway。
A strong wind had begun to blow； though the sky was clear。 As soon as my
eyes adjusted； I saw that the half…moon was flooding the courtyard with
moonlight。 My dearest Allah！ The courtyard gate was open。 I stood stunned；
atremble in the cold。
Why hadn’t I brought a knife with me？ Neither did I have a candlestick or
even a piece of wood。 For a moment； in the blackness； I saw the gate move of
its own accord。 Later； after it appeared to have stilled； I heard it squeal。 I
remember thinking； This seems like a dream。
When I heard a noise from within the house； as if from just beneath the
roof； I understood that my father’s soul was struggling to leave his body。
Knowing my father’s soul was in such torment both put me at ease and
plunged me into agony。 If Father is the cause of these noises； I thought； then
no evil will befall me。 On the other hand； his tormented soul； frantically
fluttering about； trying to escape and ascend； so troubled me that I prayed to
Allah to fort him。 But when it occurred to me that his soul would protect
me and the children； a feeling of great relief washed over me。 If there were
truly some demon contemplating evil just beyond the gate； let him fear my
father’s restless soul。
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Just then； I worried that perhaps it was Black that was upsetting my father
so much。 Would my father bring evil upon Black？ Where was he？ Just then；
outside the courtyard gate； on the street； I noticed him and froze。 He was
speaking with somebody。
A man was talking to Black from the trees in the empty yard on the far side
of the street。 I was able to infer that the howling I’d heard as I lay in bed had
e from this man whom I straightaway knew to be Hasan。 There was a
plaintive strain； a weeping in his voice； but also a threatening overtone。 I
listened to them from a distance。 Within the silent night they’d given
themselves over to settling accounts。
I understood that I was all alone in the world with my children。 I was
thinking that I loved Black； but to tell the truth； what I wanted was to love
only Black—for Hasan’s melancholy voice singed my heart。
“Tomorrow； I’ll return with the judge； Janissaries and witnesses who’ll
swear that my older brother is alive and still fighting in the mountains of
Persia；” he said。 “Your marriage is illegitimate。 You’re mitting adultery in
there。”
“Shekure wasn’t your wife； she was your late brother’s wife；” Black said。
“My older brother’s still alive；” Hasan said with conviction。 “There are
witnesses who have seen him。”
“This morning； based on the fact that he hasn’t returned after four years
campaigning； the üsküdar judge granted Shekure a divorce。 If he is alive； have
your witnesses tell him that he’s now a divorced man。”
“Shekure is restricted from remarrying for a month；” said Hasan。
“Otherwise it’s a sacrilege contrary to the Koran。 How could Shekure’s father
consent to such disgraceful nonsense？”
“Enishte Effendi；” Black said； “is very sick。 He’s on his death bed…and the
judge sanctified our marriage。”
“Did you work together to poison your Enishte？” said Hasan。 “Did you plan
this out with Hayriye？”
“My father…in…law is deeply distressed by what you’ve done to Shekure。
Your brother； if he’s really still alive； could also call you to account for your
dishonor。”
“These are all lies； each one！” said Hasan。 “These are only excuses cooked up
by Shekure so she could leave us。”
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There came a cry from within the house； it was Hayriye who’d screamed。
Next； Shevket screamed。 They shouted to each other。 Unwitting and afraid；
without being able to restrain myself； I shouted too and ran into the house
without knowing what I was doing。
Shevket ran down the stairs and fled out into the courtyard。
“My grandfather is as cold as ice；” he cried。 “My grandfather has died。”
We hugged each other。 I lifted him up。 Hayriye was still shouting。 Black and
Hasan heard the shouts and everything that was said。
“Mother； they’ve killed grandfather；” Shevket said this time。
Everyone heard this； too。 Had Hasan heard？ I squeezed Shevket tightly； and
calmly walked with him back inside。 At the top of the stairs； Hayriye was
wondering how the child had awoken and sneaked out。
“You promised you wouldn’t leave us；” said Shevket； who began to cry。
My mind was preoccupied now with Black。 Because he was busy with
Hasan； he didn’t think to close the gate。 I kissed Shevket on either cheek and
hugged him even tighter； taking in the scent of his neck； consoling him and；
finally handing him over to Hayriye； I whispered； “You two go upstairs。”
They went upstairs。 I returned and stood a few steps behind the gate。 I
assumed Hasan couldn’t see me。 Had he changed his position in the darkened
garden across the way； perhaps moving behind the trees that lined the street？
As it happened； however； he could see me； and as he spoke he addressed me；
too。 It was unnerving to convene in the dark with somebody whose face I
couldn’t see； but it was even worse； as Hasan accused me； accused us； to realize
deep down that he was justified。 With him； as with my father； I always felt
guilty； always in the wrong。 And now； moreover； I knew with great sadness that
I was in love with the man who was incriminating me。 My beloved Allah
please help me。 Love isn’t suffering for the sake of suffering； but a means to
reach You； is it not？
Hasan claimed that I’d killed my father in league with Black。 He said he’d
heard what Shevket had said； adding that everything had been laid bare and
that we’d mitted an unpardonable sin deserving of the torments of Hell。
e morning he’d go to the judge to explain it all。 If I were found to be
innocent； if my hands weren’t red with my father’s blood； he swore to have
me and the children returned to his house where he’d serve as father until his
older brother came back。 If； however； I were found guilty； a woman like me；
who’d mercilessly abandoned her husband—a man willing to make the
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highest sort of sacrifice—for her no punishment was too severe。 We patiently
listened to his fury； then noticed that there was an abrupt silence amid the
trees。
“If you return of your own free will to the home of your true husband；
now；” said Hasan； assuming a pletely different tone； “if you silently pitter…
patter back with your children without being seen by anyone； I’ll forget the
fake wedding ploy； the crimes you’ve mitted； all of it； I’ll forgive it all。 And；
we’ll wait together； Shekure； year after year； patiently； for my brother’s
return。”
Was he drunk？ There was something so infantile in his voice and what he
was now proposing to me in front of my husband that I feared it might cost
him his life。
“Do you understand？” he called out from among the trees。
I couldn’t determine exactly where he was in the blackness。 My dear God；
e to our aid； to us； Your sinning servants。
“Because you won’t be able to live under the same roof with the man who
killed your father； Shekure。 This I know。”
I momentarily thought that he could’ve been the one who killed my father；
and that he was now mocking us； perhaps。 This Hasan was the Devil incarnate。
But I couldn’t be certain of anything。
“