BOSPHORUS 23

CHAPTER 23

         Sara unlocked the door to the apartment. The air was heavy and smelled of must. On the top of the table at the entrance, a week's mail stood unopened. Most of the envelopes were addressed to Ali. She hung her coat on a hook and entered the kitchen. The dishwater they had dumped the last breakfast dishes in had grayed, and green fur had grown on a small piece of cheese on the floor.

         She opened a couple of windows and entered the bedroom. The smell of spearmint shook her like the first time. She took the sheets off the bed together with his pajamas and put them in the laundry bag. Then, she took them out again and placed them into a plastic bag. "They are for keeps," she said out loud. Their history was not washable or disposable.

         She found clean sheets for the bed and fixed it. The street was throbbing with the morning traffic, and children were jostling each other on their way to school.

         "Still early," she mumbled to herself. Large puddles from last night's rain glittered under the burst of sunlight. "The sun will dry the rain," she thought. All that was needed was a dazzle. Real or imagined, light healed the spirit, and nothing was impossible. She recalled Ali's face at daybreak and their joy in that pure strong light. Death was not so bad after all. It was not final and that changed things incredibly.

         "Sara, Sara," She heard the knock at the door. "Why are you home?" Emel was crying.

         "It is all right." She let her in. "He was happy when it happened. I have to go back soon. There are things to be done."

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         It rained the next day. She heard each separate drop during the funeral and afterwards as she stood by the mound of earth alone. But it was not him there. It was what was left of him like his pajamas and the sheets in the plastic bag. She put her hand on her heart. She knew where he was and where he would always be.

         Ahmet and Ayten wanted to take her with them, but she wanted to go home. "I have things to do," she said. "I made promises to him that I'm going to keep."

         Shortly, within that week, Sara started school.

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         There were times when she weakened, and some days and nights took their toll, piece by piece. She woke up in the dark, searching for him, longing eating into her like deadly bacteria. But she grasped her decision and persevered. As a result, a new pattern of working deep into the night evolved in her schedule.

         Toward the end of the month, just before the Holiday of the Feast of Sacrifice, Hamdi called and asked her to come back to work.

         "I can't," Sara said. "I have school during daytime."

         "I am not asking you to take your old job. There is an opening in the investigative division where Ali had started out. Actually, his boss asked for you. You choose your own time."

         "Maybe. There's one thing. At the end of December, I'll go to Germany for three months."

         "Why don't you talk to him after the holiday? At least, think about it, okay?"

         The first day of the Holiday was a Thursday. People were rejoicing. All terrorism had ended and the punishments were being carried out swiftly. Sara watched from the window as a man dragged a ram by its horns to his backyard for the sacrifice. She had spent a sleepless night, trying a different brush technique, and she had no stomach left for such things. She curled on the divan and closed her eyes.

         Ayten's voice and knocks at the door woke her up.

         "We came to take you with us," Ahmet said, as they walked in. "At least during the Holiday."

         "I'm all right," Sara said. "Don't worry about me."

         "Just a couple of nights," Ayten pleaded. "We could go visit Kenan."

         "Could we?" The bait had caught. "But I have work to do."

         "I know it is too soon for you. Still, it's a Holiday and you do want to see Kenan."

         "Once you get to know his mother better, you won't need me to take you to him," Ayten said. "She says she liked you a lot."

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         A sharp ache vibrated through Sara when she saw Kenan come running. She scolded herself later. If she had not looked into the amber lights in his eyes, she would not have cried. There was no need to act so stricken. She knew better.

         "Where's Daddy? Did you see him?"

         "I tried to explain," his mother said. "He doesn't understand much."

         "He went away to a very nice place," Sara told him. "He can't come back."

         "But he can. He has a car."

         "People don't use cars there."

         "What do they use?"

         Sara hadn't guessed this question coming. "I think it is something like going into the sunlight. I am not very sure how it works," she said.

         "Okay! I know. Like Star Wars." He clapped his hands. "Is Daddy still sick?"

         "No, he'll never be sick again. Let's play with your car now. See, you stand here and control it. It goes to wherever you want it."


         "Does your landlord still want you to move?" Ayten asked Kenan's mother.

         "He does. So he can charge more rent to the next tenant."

         "Do you have to stay here? I know of two apartments around where I live." Sara said.

         "I could go anywhere. My family is scattered. Depends on the price though."

         "I have two empty apartments I can't touch. I don't want to rent them out either. One belonged to my mother. The other one is the one Ali and I built." She paused a little and then continued. "You'd be paying no rent."

         "Maybe you'll change your mind later," Kenan's mother had a surprised look on her face. "The wound is still fresh, you know."

         "No, I won't change my mind if it has to do with Kenan."

         "I know how Sara feels," Ayten said. "She would like to see Kenan more often and she feels responsible for him like Ali would have."

         "You would be doing me a favor, please consider it," Sara begged.

         When they were back at Ahmet's place, Ayten patted Sara on the back. "You have done a wonderful gesture," she said. "I truly admire you."

         "It was not a gesture," Sara said, "I really want him as close to me as possible."

         "Sara, take your time with things. You'll start feeling good again. That's what Ali would have wanted you to do." Ahmet said at the door as he was leaving to run an errand.

         "I do feel good about many things. Just to have known him like I did, if only for short time, is the luckiest anyone can get."

         "He felt the same way about you." Ayten said, getting up to close the door after Ahmet. "Because he couldn't stand your slightest pain, he kept that book away from you."

         "So there was a fourth book. I thought for a while that my mind was playing tricks on me."

         "Sara, I'll give that fourth one to you for the simple reason that after Ali you're the rightful owner and also I don't like it that you doubt him inside your mind. If you don't want to read it, that's fine. But I believe you should be the one to keep it."

         Ayten brought the notebook with the black leather cover from the bedroom. At that moment Ahmet returned.

         "I knew I had seen four. Why wouldn't Ali tell me?"

         "Sara, don't read it. Throw it away," Ahmet said, throwing an irritated glance at Ayten.

         "That bad... But why?" Sara asked.

         "He's trying to protect you." Ayten said. Then she turned to her husband. "Don't you think she should be the one to decide that, now?"

         "I think I'll take care of it at home, later," Sara said. The last thing she needed was to witness a domestic quarrel.

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         Sara paced the living room. She did not bother lighting the stove; the weather was not very cold yet. The notebook, like a vessel before sinking in the storm, lay untouched near the sketchpad and the blanket on the divan. It looked ominous.

         It would have been easier if Ali had not tried to protect her. She could face things as they came. If what was in there was so terrible, would he want her to read it, especially now? Yet, she had to make up her own mind. She folded her legs under, wrapped the blanket about her, and leafed through the book.

          This note-book was more like a journal and it belonged to the later years. It was the one Sara had seen Lamia write into one night, a long time ago. The first few pages were notes, figures, names and dates. She could spend more time on those to find out more on Lamia's affairs, but did it matter now? This notebook started out as a ledger but Lamia had continued writing into it like a diary. Sara started reading here and there.

          Sales were below. I hated catering to people in that jail-like store. If it wasn't for Enver, I would have been stuck there with a self-righteous sassy little kid and customers who put me down. I love this new job now. If I can only get my daughter to see the light! But there's time for that.

         It was getting dark. Sara shuffled to the kitchen and made herself a sandwich for supper. Then, she switched on the light and snuggled into the blanket.

         I feel needed in this job. I think it is the greatest satisfaction in the world that you've really pleased somebody. What we offer them, they can't get at home. We're doing it for them and they are paying us willingly. I've never had any customer put me down. No one can convince me that our work is lower than the average entertainment or counseling business. Higher, yes. Sara is into this morality kick. I know it is my fault. I left her to my mother and she filled her head with old-fashioned formulas of life that never work. I know that first hand. I was married to her father. Someday, I'll teach her.

         It was not revolting so far. Sara felt only slightly disturbed. Then, Lamia had a right to her opinions. Most of the following pages repeated the same pattern of thought, which Sara was familiar with already. So, she read on skipping as much as she could.

          If we have to make progress with her, we have to take short cuts. Enver is right. We have to push her. Sara can be such an invaluable asset to us, once she realizes what she can do to men, but she lives in her own dream world. If we let her alone, she'll conform to a dull life, go to school, get married and have a bunch of children like one of my sanctimonious friends who died of childbirth. What a waste...

         Sara is just the right age to get into the business. She is young and pretty. Why, she could have her own program, even go international... She can be better than me, anytime. Besides, we need her now. Desperately. She need not do anything she doesn't want. Her mere presence even like an administrator would encourage business. I could set her up in Ankara where the biggies are. She doesn't know what she's missing.

         'So mother was a pro,' Sara thought. 'Her difference from the other pros was that she enjoyed her business and she wished to include me in it. Probably that's why Ali didn't want me to see this. Is it possible that there's more to it?' She read on.

         Enver has a fix on Sara. I can understand why. It is her fiery temper he likes. Other than that who knows, there are so many pretty girls around him! Enver says, now she's going around with that kid, and if she settles with him, it will be the end for her. Not necessarily. That boy's father is among our regulars and he likes class. Like father like son.

         Sara's stomach had started bothering her. She could now see why Ali had it concealed from her. But what did Sara mean by the last remark? She went into the bedroom and pulled out a handkerchief from the drawer. She was coming down with the first cold of the winter.

         The notebook was filled with other details of Lamia's life, none very flattering. She skimmed through those concentrating on what Lamia had written about her.

          Enver is really obsessing with Sara. He's the kind of man who takes what he wants. It is fine with me. I told him that. With the condition that he use tact, of course. We shouldn't scare her off.

         Enver is worried about that kid. He has them followed. She'll get nowhere with him, he says. I told him to go ahead and handle it. Then I changed my mind. I still don't want him to get rid of the kid. If he's anything like his father, he'll end up being a good customer. Actually, a better idea occurred to me. I'll have his mother tipped as to what Sara's mother's real business is. That will be the end of their relationship.

         Sara's stomach tightened and churned. Then nausea came up like a tidal wave. She barely made it to the bathroom. Afterwards as she washed her face, she thought about Ali. No, he probably would never tell her all this, and probably she'd have been better off without the information. Ali knew what he was doing and he knew her also.

         It was too late now. She had to read the rest of it. Curiosity would twist her mind all her life. Without realizing, she had lived with injustice of the worst kind, the kind that was directed at her by her own mother. That roughed her up the most. 'She must have known about the mob all along. They almost had Orhan killed,' she thought.

          I'm so mad at Enver. He told me he took her by force. He says he lost his temper. I know of his temper but he should have been careful. He should have her consent first. Sara was easily frightened as a child. Thanks to my mother's pampering, she became even worse. When she was a child, I couldn't stand her dependency, her fears, her phobias...Because of this, what Enver did had a negative effect. I wanted Sara to grow up, but not like that. I didn't want her hurt; she is my daughter. Now she'll be afraid of men. When is Enver going to learn about women? Sara would have been such a valuable asset to us.

         Sara couldn't believe it. Her mother had no scruples. She had known about everything all along. No wonder Ali had stayed quiet during her funeral. Lamia really had some business going, and she saw Sara as her commodity.

          She finally told me. That means, to a degree, I have her confidence. I was worried about that. When we had only one store, she enjoyed helping me. She was so dutiful. After Enver and I started working together, I made her stop. I had to. She was too young. I didn't want her to learn how broad the business was. As a result she felt left out. She has resented Enver ever since.

         I didn't know what to tell her when she told me. Truth is, she caught me by surprise. Enver is wrong, but admitting that wouldn't be wise. I had to tell her that I didn't believe her. I didn't think she'd take this so hard. She ran out on me. I called Enver. He said to let her be. He said, 'it is tough outside, she'll come back, she can't survive on her own.' But old Madam Arakian is sheltering her. For how long, I can't guess. Now I have to get her back without involving Enver. I realize that I have to go her way, so she can come to mine.

         Although Sara wasn't feeling well, she was stung awake by Lamia's words. She knew she had a lot to overcome now, but she had to complete the notebook first, and she had the entire night for that. Then she'd have to burn these pages. If it had not been for the investigation, Ali would have done that earlier.

          She graduated from high school today. It would have helped our relationship if I could go, but I just couldn't. I have to make this up to Sara. The reason was, we had a serious enough problem with "them". Dursun found out about Enver's building that mosque. Now as retribution, he wants double the amount plus more privileges. They are all hustlers. The whole thing is ridiculous. It is Enver's fault. He talks to both sides too much and boasts about how well he's doing. Then he tries to cover all corners.

         Well, in order to buy time, I took care of those guys my way with a big party at the hotel. The kind they usually enjoy.

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         Something good has happened. Enver says they aren't seeing each other anymore. I believe my tip to the boy's mother has worked. But Sara probably told Madam Arakian about Enver's mishandling her. Madam Arakian believes her. I saw it in her eyes. Madam Arakian was a good friend of my mother's. Those moldy heads think alike. Too bad. But, there isn't much I can do about other people.

         I went over to Madam Arakian several times. We talked. She firmly believes Sara will be better off away from me, at least for a while. I know what she thinks. She wants her away from Enver.

         Funny, how some people judge others! Life is business. They, the moralists, are trying to sell also. They barter their values. The thing with them is, it doesn't get conducted as a business deal, but rather a social ritual. I think the real touchstone lies in what comes naturally to people. If I am so wrong, why do we have so many customers?

         Sara has chosen the other side. I would respect her choice if I had equal representation. This society raises daughters the wrong way. They indoctrinate them early. But, like I said, it is my fault for leaving her upbringing to my mother.

         Sometimes I think about Sara. I want to shake her up and say, "Look here, Kid, there's more to life. You can have all you want and then some."

         I truly love my daughter. There are things in her, I haven't seen anyone else possess. She should be able to pick and choose anything her heart desires: men, jobs, or money. She should be able to get into any business she wants. All I've ever asked for was equal opportunity with my daughter so I could represent my case. But no, my mother saw to it that I wouldn't get it. If Sara had started from the right viewpoint, she could be anything she wanted to be.

         She came searching for the cat and stayed until after the curfew two weeks ago; she might be losing some of her fears. She wasn't afraid of going out after the curfew. Later I went over. It seems we're on better terms. She has found a job. That surprised me. It goes to show how indispensable she would be in our business. I told her the sob story that everyone in town cherishes about Osman Aga's son and me. So ridiculous, but it worked. As I suspected, she is sentimental. She feels closer to me now.

         I went over to the bookstore where she works and asked for her. I told them I knew her from her previous school. I didn't tell them I was her mother. They had sent her to the Post Office on an errant. Her boss just raved about her. She has that effect on men. I must see to it that she uses her assets to our advantage. Our business needs someone like her desperately.

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         Enver says he has someone following her. He is one of their men and I am against the idea. I'm against Enver's involvement with his old chums so much. But he is beginning to find out what kind of people they are. They are pressuring him for more money. Thank God for the hotel. If it weren't for me, how would he have ends meet? I still had to sell some things to pay them off.

         Sara has a new interest in me, but I'm afraid to push it. I don't want to turn her away from me.

         Enver said she was seeing a policeman. We don't need that kind of a problem, do we? I told Enver to get rid of him. He said he knew she couldn't be very serious, and the man wasn't worth his blood. I wonder what's going on. I have to find it out from her.

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         I asked Sara about the policeman. She wasn't moved or sentimental at all. It turns out that he was only giving her a lift. Enver was right about that one.

         She also told me that the business side of things was starting to interest her. Only academic maybe, but still, it raised my hopes up.

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         Disaster! The hotel is burned to the ground. The work of the fundamentalists for sure! I'm certain it has something to do with the missing files. Enver wants to sell the business to pay the other side off. They had threatened him with cutting off their help. Sometimes I wonder about the true color of Enver's relationship with Dursun. Enver's wife left him because of them.

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         Enver told me all about it. They had a very hard time following her. Then Enver talked to her and Sara consented to marry him. Later, she changed her mind. Enver said he's going to put pressure on her. I don't want her hurt; I don't want Enver touch her again. But I am in no position to do anything about it at the moment. On the other hand, what counts is success. Enver has a way of getting around each girl and he has been very successful in the past.

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         Sara called me to say that she's going to Izmir, and that some awful men were after her. I didn't learn why until much later. I'm furious with Enver. Bookstore incident to one side, he shouldn't have touched Madam Arakian. Sara could have been hurt. I may be a lot of things but I'm not a killer of my own child. Besides, what if we're found out because of silly things like this?

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         Enver and I had a terrible fight. He defended his actions. He said if she were scared enough, Sara would come our way. But he also said he's sick of her and he wouldn't touch her again; if anything, he gave up on her. Now he tells me the whole thing was my fault because I wanted her in the business. That is true and I am to blame.

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         No news of Sara. I'm worried about them having done something to her. Enver and I are barely talking. I am starting to work through the clothing stores all over again. Am I glad I had given Sara some money! She'll need it. Like a fool, I told Enver that she was in Izmir. Poor kid, she's never safe because of her mother. There... I finally said it.

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         My mother had warned me about Enver. I guess he caused my fall; only it wasn't a fall. A fall is accidental. I knew what I was doing. Someday, if things go right, I may work with another hotel and have my own setup. Of course, my mother would cringe if she knew the kind of business I run. I have to find a way to set Sara up in this business. There is nothing wrong with the business itself except I did it wrong by having Enver as a partner.

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         Enver has been acting really strange lately. He scares me.

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         Enver said he'd get lost for a while. There's pressure on him. So much the better. I could use a breather. He's been just too strange.

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         Sara called. She's back. I don't know what happened that she came back. Maybe I'll try to get close to her on her terms.

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         Sara and I are getting closer. She rented an apartment not far from mine and she works in a police station. I saw what she was doing. She was filing and sorting police files. What a life! She seems happy though. Without Enver's meddling, I can handle her better.

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         Enver was so weird on the phone... He said there was only one way to get out of his dilemma. He said, chances are that I wouldn't see him ever again. I'm so worried that he'll do something to himself. I had never thought Enver could be suicidal.


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         The telephone awakened her.

         "Sara, how are you?" Ayten asked her from the other end.

         "Fine," Sara said, checking her watch. "I overslept and missed school."

         "You needed the rest. Don't worry about anything else. Will you go in later?"

         "I don't think so. Most of my classes for today are over already."

         "Are you up to having company?"

         "Sure. Come over right away."

         "I won't be alone. Kenan's mother decided to take you up on your offer. Do you think we could show her the apartments?"

         "Great! We'll take her today."

         "Sara, I'm so sorry about the notebook. I thought about it and I'm not so sure I did the right thing. I just couldn't stand it when you doubted your rationality. Ahmet is furious with me. If you didn't read it, throw it away."

         "But I am not sorry that you did. You were right. I read it last night. I feel better because of the truth. I understand why Ali hid the notebook. I also know a lot more about my mother. In her weird warped way, she loved me." Her voice ebbed with the last sentence.

         Ahmet stopped by in the evening.

         "I had to see for myself if you're all right," he said.

         "I'm more than all right today," Sara answered him. "I decided to move into the new apartment as Ali and I had planned. When I was showing it today, I realized that's the thing to do. I'll rent the store downstairs for the time being. Kenan and his mother will be living in my mother's place. They came with Ayten today, didn't she tell you?"

         Ahmet looked away. "No."

         "Ahmet, Ayten was right about the book. I had to know. Especially the last few entries. I am glad I read it."

         "It was against Ali's wishes what she did."

         "Ali would have agreed to it, if he had foreseen the turn of events. Look at me. Do I seem bothered by it? On the contrary, I feel good about it for many reasons. Do you think Ali would object to this?"

         "I don't know." Ahmet paused. "I don't know how you handle everything everyday. I can't. He was my best friend."

         "He'd want you to cope. Things will get better. We'll both have to learn to live the way he'd want us to."

         "I went to their trial today. It was Dursun on the stand. He said Ali was a spy and there was only one sentence for spies. I left. I'd shoot him if I'd stayed longer."

         "Aren't you glad you didn't do that? All our work and waiting would be for nothing, except for a lowly revenge. Ali wouldn't be happy about that."

         "I guess so," Ahmet said. "One other thing," he continued. "Boss wants you to work for us. He asked me again to tell you to at least give it a try. You can go to school and choose your own hours. He'll give you time off for Germany. Plus, you'll get more training with us. He is impressed with everything you've done."

         "In that case, I am starting tomorrow after school," Sara said.


Few Months Later


         'After the rain, the shapes of things grow more precise and appear larger,' Sara thought. She was watching Bosphorus from the window of her house, the house that she and Ali had built. The view was awesome. How insignificant people looked in their tiny forms against the majesty of the hills and the iridescent water running with haste in its depths!

         The strait stood unmoved and unaware of glory and loss, conqueror and the conquered, glory and heartbreak. It had endured change and calamity, time after time. Neither the land nor the sea seemed secondary. The soul of Bosphorus had risen from the waves as life itself first did and settled the land. Here the edges blurred and the opposites melted into time. A vigorous liquidity highlighted the shores and the inhabitants.

         "I am a product of you," Sara whispered toward the sea, yet not losing view of the land. She was only twenty, but she felt as aged as a fifty-year old woman. She had seen, she had learned, and she had endured. And Bosphorus had stood there with Sara and would remain so after her, with its two shores -Asian and European- like two lovers that fell apart just before touching each other fully.

         "Sara, we have to leave for the airport now," Ahmet called from the hallway. "You don't want to miss your plane."

         Sara looked at the ripples once more. Something like magic, a flicker of amber light, winked at her through the flowing water. She smiled and blew a kiss to it. Then she pulled the curtains tight.

The End