by Latife Tekin
Confident that no man worth his mettle would keep away for too long, Atiye took heart that Halit would surely bed Zekiye again one day. However, Zekiye’s show of devotion to Halit only pumped him up more. He started saying that one look of his was worth ten Zekiyes and one glance enough to make ten Zekiyes leap to their feet. He went on to claim that he had just the height and build of an engineer and that Allah had really designed him to be one. It was only a matter of time before Halit began to think that he also had an engineer’s spirit, which finally led him to the conclusion that schooling really wasn’t necessary. It was enough just to have the spirit and be tall enough. After he had boasted in the neighbourhood about his true vocation, he became known among the Akçalı people as ‘The Chief Engineer’. He tucked a thick, smoke-coloured book under his arm and picked up a ruler shaped like the cross-stave of a scarecrow. And when he let his hair trail down to his shoulders and grew sideburns all the way down his chin, he was the very picture of an engineer.
As Atiye watched her son putting on the airs of an engineer, she blew her prayers about, saying, ‘Oh Lord, put a diploma in his hands too!’ It wasn’t Huvat’s nature to fret like a mother, however. He spitefully accused Halit of lying as often as dogs barked, going on to say that his long family line hadn’t produced a single engineer except this boy. Then Huvat started insisting that, since Atiye was such an expert in lying, Halit could only have taken after her. But Atiye told her husband that God would twist into knots the face of anyone who dared to pester a heart-sore woman left all on her own, as she was. ‘May a sore run on your body for all the times you’ve pestered me!’ she wailed, warning him to beware her wrath. Now the subject veered to the question of whose son Halit was. Huvat vowed that no son of his was an engineer, then settled back in his seat. But it didn’t end there. He planted a rumour among the Akçalı folk that Halit wasn’t his son and he hadn’t a clue how he’d got stuck with him. ‘Huvat may be my fellow villager, but Allah is above us all!’ Pockmarked Memet’s mother insisted. Then she made an oath that she would testify anywhere that Halit was Huvat’s son and she feared no one except Allah. Immobilized by a stroke, she sent Pockmarked Memet over, swift as a bird, to tell Atiye. When Atiye heard that her husband, for no reason at all, had allowed strangers’ tongues to cast a slur on her name, she turned to Huvat and said, ‘I commend you to Allah.’ Then, bearing boxes of sweets, she made the rounds of the homes of the Akçalı folk, bringing out into the open all those stories that had lain buried under the goat-hair of a hundred dusty kilims. ‘My dear ones, you were right there with me all along!’ she pleaded with them again and again until she had finally laid to rest the rumours that Huvat had started. After that, she no longer wanted even to look at a husband who cast his words like stones to the wind, never thinking where they might land or whom they might strike. She pleaded that, if Allah wasn’t planning to hurl her husband into the pit anytime soon, couldn’t Huvat at least be sent away for a while so that she could have some peace?
Allah may have turned down one of Atiye’s wishes but, because Atiye had a good heart, he granted her next one. Whenever Atiye went to sleep, Allah sent Nuǧber Dudu to her side. At first Atiye couldn’t make any sense of her mother-in-law’s visits to her dreams, and she was so angry with Huvat that she didn’t say a word to him about it. Finally it dawned on her that God had a reason for letting Nuǧber Dudu into her dreams. ‘Lord, please forgive those who wake up late!’ she said. Then she quit sulking with Huvat and began to bustle around him, asking, ‘I wonder what the woman’s doing out there?’ In one dream, Atiye reported to Huvat, she had Nuǧber Dudu pulling out the weeds on her grave. In another, she sat his mother down beside her own collapsed grave, chin in hand, thinking. It never crossed Atiye’s mind that one day, after she too had departed this world, her own daughter-in-law might make such a plaything of her. Nor did she think to ask herself why she was using her mother-in-law in such a way, even though the devil had lifted his hand from her once she was dead and gone. On the contrary, to get Huvat to go to the village Atiye kept waking up and sitting beside him, forcing her husband’s mother into his mind. ‘You should’ve seen her today, man!’ she exclaimed. ‘She was leaning on her stick again, pulling away at the weeds!’ So Huvat finally made up his mind to go to the village and clear the weeds from his mother’s grave.
After Atiye saw her husband off, she prayed that he would never leave his mother’s side. All day long she sat peacefully by the window. Mahmut came home at dusk with good news. ‘You look happy today, girl,’ he exclaimed, ‘but this’ll make you even happier.’ With that, he dropped a wad of money in her lap and told her that he had taken on a job with two partners. To Atiye, the fact that her son had taken on a contract on the same day that Huvat had left meant that the very presence of her husband had tied up the family’s luck in knots. Therefore, she had hardly gathered the money up from her skirt before she was concocting ways to keep Huvat in the village for a long time. Since she had recently been involved in just such a task, it wasn’t long before she came up with something. She wrote a letter to her husband telling him that Zekiye was missing her parents, so it would be best if she came to the village too and remained with him there. She added that if anyone from the city was heading that way, Zekiye could be accompanied there properly. This news pleased Zekiye so much that she got up and hugged her mother-in-law. At that moment, The Chief Engineer entered and wasn’t at all saddened to hear that Zekiye would be going to the village. As they all celebrated, Dirmit rejoiced because everybody was too busy rejoicing to think about her. Now she would be left in peace to think as much as she liked. So everybody was happy.
Then Mahmut had an idea. ‘I got a contract today,’ he thought, ‘and, even though it’s only in a partnership, I’ll just drop in quickly on Mother Hadji’s.’ After putting on a clean set of clothes, he left, looking smart. With a box of sweets in hand, he knocked on Mother Hadji’s door. She asked him in, laid the box aside, enquired how he was doing. Mahmut replied that he was fine. He said that he would soon be leaving on a job and that he had come by to see Yıldız. Mother Hadji looked down steadily at his hand. Mahmut dug into his pocket for some money, which she quickly took and thrust into her elastic stocking top. Then she went out and returned a moment later with a dark, scrawny woman at least three times older than Mahmut. The woman said hello, beamed a smile and chatted a bit. Then she took off her stockings, tucked them into her slippers and led Mahmut by the arm into an inner room. Mahmut left Mother Hadji’s house, whistling a jaunty tune. When he got home he went straight to bed where, with parted lips, he slept all night as light as a bird.
The next morning, excited over his new job, Mahmut left sleep and Yıldız far behind. He went to the coffee-house first to find one or two apprentices to take along with him. Then he spent a few days chasing after the necessary materials for his business. It wasn’t very long, however, before he was struck by a feeling of uneasiness, and his face grew pale. When Atiye noticed that Mahmut was paying frequent visits to the bathroom, she started tracking his every move around the house. First she tried to question him in an offhand way, but when she failed to get any answers while he was awake she started asking him as he slept. At last she got him to talk in his sleep, and he confessed everything. As he rambled on about Mother Hadji, Yıldız and the rest, before lapsing back into silence, Atiye’s heart began to boil. She crept over to Halit’s bed and quietly woke him up. Thinking it was Zekiye, Halit didn’t budge, but when Atiye shook him again he testily threw off his quilt and sat straight up. Seeing that it was his mother, he held his temper as Atiye repeated word for word all that she had extracted from Mahmut. Halit was so groggy that he forgot even to lower his eyes and gazed steadily at his mother’s face while she recounted to him Mahmut’s recent caper. He didn’t think, I’ll talk to him in the morning when he wakes up and see what this is all about in the daylight. Instead he asked Atiye one question – ‘So, is that it?’ – then stepped over to Mahmut’s bed.
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br /> Taking her son’s cue, Atiye switched on the lamp, climbed into bed and pulled the quilt over her head. While she lay there with her ears pricked, Mahmut had thrown back his quilt and was sitting with his back to the wall, facing his elder brother. With half-shut eyes, he muttered something under his breath and, still propped against the wall, fell asleep again. ‘Come on, man!’ Halit prodded him, nudging him sharply. ‘This is no time for sleep!’ For Mahmut, however, being awake was a fate worse than death. ‘Stop wasting my time, man,’ Halit said when Mahmut still wouldn’t open his eyes. Then he grabbed his brother by the collar and planted him on his feet. Mahmut came to with a fearful shudder. ‘Pull down your pants so I can take a look!’ Halit ordered. ‘Get away, man!’ Mahmut pleaded. Then, clutching his pants, he started swearing at Halit. Already feeling resentful that Mahmut hadn’t approached him after taking on the contract or asked him to act as an engineer in his business, Halit now held his brother down by the throat and quickly had him sprawled out helpless on the bed. Then, straddling Mahmut’s belly and facing his feet, he pressed his thumb down with all his might on Mahmut’s wrist to loosen the boy’s stubborn grip on his pants. While Mahmut cursed, Halit stripped off his pants, ignoring Mahmut’s threats that he’d pay his brother back for this later. When Halit saw Dirmit and Zekiye rise up halfway from their beds, awakened by Mahmut’s shouts, he snapped, ‘Who asked you to look this way?’ Then, turning to face Mahmut again, he pulled up his brother’s pants, saying, ‘You’re in deep shit, son!’ He then launched into a lecture on how Mahmut should have consulted his elder brother before jumping into such deep shit.
Only with great difficulty had Atiye managed to contain her curiosity for so long. Now she got up and crept over to Mahmut. ‘Now you know how it feels to have your manhood drop off into your pants!’ she hissed, striking even more fear into her son’s heart. With Atiye on one side and Halit on the other, Mahmut suddenly felt utterly helpless and lost his voice. Early the next morning, close on Halit’s heels, he went to see the doctor. When he returned home with an armload of medicated liquids and powders and a face as white as limewash, he immediately retreated to the bathroom and came out later, cringing like a whipped cat.
With her virginity and Mahmut’s manhood both being checked upon, some bizarre questions began to arise in Dirmit’s mind. She became stuck over the question of why her brother, who was two years younger that her, had gone to see a woman. The fact that he might have died as a result didn’t bother her: she was troubled because she couldn’t go herself and see a man. She grew so puzzled that she finally asked Atiye about it. ‘Well, why don’t you then?’ Atiye said, grabbing her hair. ‘Off you go!’ Tearing fiercely at Dirmit’s hair, she cried, ‘You’re lagging behind your brother! That’s the idea, isn’t it?’ Then she regaled her daughter with stories about Dirmit’s lustful childhood. How she used to send messages to boys even when she was a tiny girl, and how she would hide out with them in chicken coops. Atiye claimed that Dirmit really didn’t have enough sense not to go looking for men. The only way she could be kept home was through strict rules and discipline. ‘So you won’t even allow me to ask, girl?’ Dirmit whined as Atiye hollered.
When Atiye heard this, her motherly heart rebelled at the unfairness of it all. She swore that she would tell Halit to take Dirmit to see a man that very evening. ‘Your sister wants to go and see a man,’ she’d say. ‘As her elder brother, you’d better see to it!’ That evening Atiye kept her promise and told Halit about her daughter’s wish. Dirmit stormed from the room in a temper, slamming the door behind her. She hoisted the ladder up on the landing, climbed to the roof and, clenching her teeth in anger, started to cry. Atiye stuck her head through the trapdoor. ‘Come on, now, don’t cry,’ she called out. ‘He’s all ready to take you!’ Then she related to Dirmit what her brother had said: ‘Well, if she’s been driven to climb onto rooftops, I may as well take her!’ This so enraged Dirmit that her face turned as red as the roof tiles. Her hot tears still streaming, she straightened up and marched right over to the edge of the roof, where she stood, trying to scare Atiye. ‘I’m going to throw myself down and be rid of you, girl!’ she shouted. But Atiye was unruffled. ‘Don’t do that,’ she said, starting to chuckle. ‘He’s going to take you. Really!’ Then Halit came over and led Atiye down the ladder. ‘Don’t be scared, girl,’ he called out to Dirmit. Come on down!’ But Dirmit felt too ashamed. Sitting with her back against the chimney and covering her face with her hands, she cried and cried until everybody had gone to bed. She wept so hard that her tears soaked the tiles at her feet and ran down the side of the wooden house.
Azrael paid a visit to Atiye that night. He figured that since Atiye had given her son a medical examination he might as well do the same for her. The angel called out to Atiye, took hold of her arm and sat her up in bed. He placed a hand over her heart, then moved it about over her lungs. After he had listened to her rattling breath for a while, Azrael announced to Atiye that her time had come, granting her just enough grace to awaken her children for some hugging and nuzzling. Atiye clutched at Azrael’s hands and begged not to be taken away before bidding her husband farewell. She also asked Azrael to wait for her son Seyit to come back from the army. But he refused her wish, saying that he was tired of all this shuttling back and forth. Atiye requested at least enough time to send a message to Nuǧber. But Azrael announced that there was no more time left because the little flap in her heart had grown tired of flipping open and shut. It was soon going to flip shut for good. ‘Isn’t there some way to keep it from flipping shut?’ Atiye pleaded hopefully. Azrael revealed to Atiye that even if there was a way around that, the sore in her womb, which had grown so big and spread out all around inside her, was enough in itself to take her to the netherworld. There was nothing he could do about that. ‘If only I could see Seyit one more time in this world!’ Atiye moaned, imploring Azrael to let her see her son at least from a distance. His heart turned to stone, Azrael fell heavily upon Atiye’s chest.
With eyes bulging out of their sockets, she looked up at the ceiling and defied God. ‘What have I ever done to you?’ she started shouting. ‘Why won’t you let me see my son?’ Angrily pressing his hand over Atiye’s mouth to silence her, Azrael warned her that if she shouted any more she would be given over to God’s wrath and would pass over to the netherworld as an infidel. But the pain shooting across from Atiye’s chest to her back was so sharp that she didn’t hear a thing Azrael said. ‘If you’re there, let me see my son!’ she screamed a silent appeal to Allah. Then she shoved Azrael’s hand from her mouth and began to throw herself about, trying to dislodge Azrael from her chest with what strength she had left. Finally she broke loose from Azrael’s clutches and sat upright in bed, cursing and swearing. Allah, offended with Atiye for quarrelling with Azrael and breaking her faith, ordered Azrael away and condemned her ‘to live on with the sores and the pain’. As soon as Azrael had departed, Atiye drew a deep breath and spoke to her children, who had gathered fearfully at her side. She announced that it was only because she had acted so shamelessly that Azrael, who had dropped in for a visit, had been driven away empty-handed. Then she told them to go back to bed. Once again left on her own, she put her hand quietly over her heart, and as it tapped against her hand she heard it saying, ‘I’m tired! I’m tired!’ ‘May your little voice crack, good-for-nothing!’ she scolded. Then she lifted her hand away from her heart and reached around to her back, pressing her palm against the ache there. In pain, she lay sleepless until morning.
While Atiye’s joy over Huvat’s departure for the village was drowned in pain, Mahmut’s health recovered. Putting aside the medicated liquids and powders, he picked up his guitar and left home to start his new job. With Mahmut gone, Halit decided to spend his days at home. A couple of times he had presented himself in public as an engineer and found himself in a tight corner when he couldn’t find the words to back up his claim. One evening he came home early, loaded down with a sack full of books. ‘D
o whatever you like, but leave me alone!’ he ordered. Then, without another word, he put the sack by his bed and settled down on Mahmut’s divan. From then on he put his books down only to go to the toilet, and annoyed the others by keeping the light on all night long. He read all day and all night long, as if he had suddenly received a calling. His head swelled as he took in all those words, and he started acting high-handed. He totally forgot that if his mother hadn’t pleaded with him he would still have been a hodja dragging about his shalvar. Now he scoffed at her. ‘What d’you know about UFOs or space, girl?’ he asked scornfully. ‘What right do you have to tell me what to do?’ Still she dared to question him. ‘What makes these books so special?’ she asked. ‘Why are you so wrapped up in them?’ But Halit only blocked his ears to her.
As fast as running water Halit rushed through books on fortune-telling, mediums, engineering, humanity and Turkism. Then he returned those books and brought back others he had dug up somewhere. It didn’t matter to him if he read them in any sort of sequence or if there was any truth to their contents. He believed all that he read, just as he believed in Allah. After UFOs, he started to hold forth on melting iron-mountains and howling wolves, always dropping names nobody had ever heard of. After a while he couldn’t even remember why he was reading. Forgetting all about engineering, he started lecturing the folk from Akçalı who sat in the coffee-house waiting for a job, educating them about the mysteries of the world. As Halit talked on and on about UFOs, humans who originated from apes, iron-mountains and fiery plains, he soon had them arguing with each other. ‘He launched another UFO and then took off again!’ some grumbled behind his back. Others, however, accepted every word he said as God’s own truth. The believers pulled up chairs and sat at his table, while the others vacated the coffee-house as soon he entered. After the disbelievers had left, he bowed his head and commenced his lecture. Halit had become the Akçalı people’s ‘Mr Know-It-All’.