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第42章

my name is red-我的名字叫红-第42章

小说: my name is red-我的名字叫红 字数: 每页4000字

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others  did  and  I  understood  his  soul。  I  took  out  pen  and  paper;  and  in  one 
sitting; without having to think; I wrote the following: 
 
All right then; before the evening prayer is called; I’ll meet you at the house of 
the Hanged Jew。 Finish my father’s book as soon as possible。 
 
I did not reply to Hasan。 Even if he was actually going to the judge today; I 
didn’t believe that the men he and his father were assembling would raid our 
house immediately。 If he were indeed ready to take such action he’d have done 
so  without  writing  a  letter  or  awaiting  my  reply。  He’s  surely  awaiting  my 
response; and; when it doesn’t arrive; it’ll drive him mad。 Only then will he 
begin assembling people and prepare to abduct me。 Don’t think I’m not afraid 
of him at all。 But; I’m counting on Black to protect me。 Anyway; let me tell you 
what’s  going  on  in  my  heart  just  now:  I  believe  I’m  not  so  afraid  of  Hasan 
because I love him as well。 
If  you  object  and  think  to  yourselves;  “Now  what  is  this  love  about?”  I’d 
find  you  justified。  It’s  not  that  I  failed  to  notice  during  the  years  we  waited 
under  the  same  roof  for  my  husband’s  return;  how  pitiful;  weak  and  selfish 
this man was。 But now that Esther tells me he earns a lot of money—and I can 
always tell when she’s being truthful from her raised eyebrows—since he has 
money;   and   with   it   self…confidence;   the   overbearing   Hasan   has   surely 
disappeared; exposing the dark; jinnlike peculiarity that attracts me to him。 I 
discovered this side of him through the letters he stubbornly sent to me。 
Both Black and Hasan have suffered for their love of me。 Black disappeared; 
traveling  for  twelve  years。 The other; Hasan; sent me letters every day; in the 
154 
 
corners of which he’d illustrated birds and gazelles。 At first I was frightened of 
him; but later; I loved to read his letters again and again。 
As I well knew that Hasan was thoroughly curious about everything having 
to do with me; I wasn’t surprised that he knew I’d seen my husband’s corpse 
in  a  dream。  What  I  suspected  was  that  Esther  was  letting  Hasan  read  the 
letters  I’d  sent  to  Black。  That’s  why  I  sent  no  response  to  Black  by  way  of 
Esther。 You know better than I whether my suspicions are justified。 
“Where were you?” I said to the children when they returned。 
They  quickly  understood  that  I  wasn’t  really  angry。  Discreetly;  I  pulled 
Shevket aside; to the edge of the darkened closet。 I lifted him onto my lap。 I 
kissed his head and the nape of his neck。 
“You’re  cold;  my  dear;”  I  said。  “Give  me  those  pretty  hands  of  yours  so 
Mother can warm them up…” 
His hands had a foul smell; but I didn’t ment。 Pressing his head to my 
bosom; I gave him a long hug。 In a short time he warmed up; relaxing like a 
kitten; sweetly mewling with pleasure。 
“So then; you love your mother quite a lot; don’t you?” 
“Ummmhmmm。” 
“Is that a ”yes‘?“ 
“Yes。” 
“More than anybody else?” 
“Yes。” 
“Then I’m going to tell you something;” I said as if divulging a secret。 “But 
you won’t tell anyone; all right?” I whispered in his ear: “I love you more than 
anyone; you know that?” 
“More than Orhan; even?” 
“More  than  Orhan;  even。  Orhan’s  young;  like  a  small  bird;  he  doesn’t 
understand anything。 You’re smarter; you’re able to understand。” I kissed and 
smelled his hair。 “So; I’m going to ask you a favor。 Remember how you secretly 
brought Black a blank piece of paper yesterday? You’ll do the same today; all 
right?” 
“He’s the one who killed Father。” 
“What?” 
155 
 
“He  killed  my  father。  He  himself  said  so  yesterday  in  the  house  of  the 
Hanged Jew。” 
“What did he say?” 
“”I killed your father;“ he said。 ”I’ve killed plenty of men;“ he said。” 
Suddenly something happened。 Shevket slid down my lap and began to cry。 
Why was this child crying now? All right then; I confess; I must’ve been unable 
to  control  myself  just  then;  and  I  slapped  him。  I  wouldn’t  want  anyone  to 
think I was hard…hearted。 But how could he say such nonsense about a man 
I’d  been  making  arrangements  to  marry—and  that;  with  the  well…being  of 
these boys in mind。 
My poor little fatherless boy was still crying; and all at once; this upset me 
greatly。 I; too; was on the verge of tears。 We hugged each other。 He hiccuped 
occasionally。 Did this slap merit so much crying? I stroked his hair。 
This is how it all began: The previous day; as you know; I’d told my father in 
passing  that  I’d  dreamed  my  husband  had  died。  Actually;  as  happened  quite 
frequently  over  these  four  years  during  which  my  husband  never  returned 
from battling the Persians; I dreamed of him fleetingly; and there was also a 
corpse; but was he the corpse? This was a mystery to me。 
Dreams are always used as a means to other ends。 In Portugal; from where 
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。” 
“I

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