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Raising himself slightly； he’d take the glass I’d brought him out of my hand
and say； “May the water bearer never want for anything；” before kissing me on
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the cheek and looking into my eyes as he used to do when I was a girl。 I stared
down at my father’s horrid face and； in short； I was afraid。 I wanted to avoid
looking at him； while at the same time； goaded by the Devil； I wanted to see
how gruesome he’d bee。
I timidly returned to the room with the blue door whereupon Black made
an advance on me。 I pushed him away； more unthinkingly than out of anger。
We struggled in the flickering light of the candle； though it wasn’t really a
struggle but rather the imitation of a struggle。 We were enjoying bumping
into each other； touching one another’s arms； legs and chests。 The confusion I
felt resembled the emotional state that Nizami had described with regard to
Hüsrev and Shirin： Could Black； who’d read Nizami so thoroughly； sense that；
like Shirin； I also meant “Continue” when I said； “Don’t bruise my lips by
kissing them so hard”？
“I refuse to sleep in the same bed with you until that devil…of…a…man is
found； until my father’s murderer is caught；” I said。
As I fled the room； I was seized by embarrassment。 I’d spoken in such a
shrill voice it must’ve seemed I wanted the children and Hayriye to hear what
I’d said—perhaps even my poor father and my late husband； whose body had
long decayed and turned to dust on who knows what barren patch of earth。
As soon as I was back with the children； Orhan said； “Mama； Shevket went
out into the hallway。”
“Did you go out？” I said； and made as if to slap him。
“Hayriye；” said Shevket and hugged her。
“He didn’t go out；” said Hayriye。 “He was in the room the entire time。”
I shuddered and couldn’t look her in the eyes。 I realized that after my
father’s death was announced； the children would thenceforth seek refuge in
Hayriye； tell her all our secrets； and that this lowly servant； taking advantage of
this opportunity； would try to control me。 She wouldn’t stop there either； but
would try to place the onus of my father’s murder onto me； then she’d have
the guardianship of the children passed on to Hasan！ Yes； indeed she would！
All this shameless scheming because she’d slept with my father； may he rest in
divine light。 Why should I hide all this from you any longer？ She was； in fact；
doing this； of course。 I smiled sweetly at her。 Then； I lifted Shevket onto my lap
and kissed him。
“I’m telling you； Shevket went out into the hallway；” Orhan said。
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“Get into bed； you two。 Let me get between you so I can tell you the story
of the tailless jackal and the black jinn。”
“But you told Hayriye not to tell us a story about jinns；” said Shevket。
“Why can’t Hayriye tell us the story tonight？”
“Will they visit the City of the Forsaken？” asked Orhan。
“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
wit