Oh, woe is me
But the moss embraces it still
Two uncles came out of the mosque. And they beat the dog.
“Shut up, you cursed dog!” they yelled, so loud we could hear them, even in the car.
—
The two men beat the dog for howling at the call to prayer. But the dog doesn’t know it’s the call to prayer, and the men don’t know the dog doesn’t know. So, in a way, the dog knows more than they do.
“Infidel of a dog, howling at the holy adhan!”
If Uncle Dürüst died, I wonder if he’d come back to the world as a street dog?
Ayşe took my hand. The folk song kept playing.
Your love took my mind
Leaving only my soul
Oh, woe is me
Leaving only my soul
It started raining. The car windows slowly bled.
When the rain started, the two bad men ran into the mosque. The dog had blood on its face. But it still barked again. It barked like it hadn’t been beaten. Like it was laughing, even, all bloody.
“Sevgi, let’s have a cigarette before we go any further,” Dad said. “There are bound to be road checks as we approach Fatsa.”
Grandma is sucking on a mint and praying to herself, psss psss. She made the magic dome over me and Ali. When the rain came down harder, the swan went tuh! tuh! tuh! to keep away the evil eye.
—
The soldier waved his hand for us to pass, and Ayşe held my hand the whole time. Everybody else looked straight ahead as we slowly passed. Nobody looked outside. But I did. Big brothers and sisters were lying by the side of the road, face down. The news was playing on the radio.
“… truckloads of letters pouring in from across Turkey as citizen informants respond to …”
They were on the ground, getting wet. They wanted to lift their heads, but the soldiers were yelling at them. The radio sounded more terrible now.
“The National Security Council announced that all prisoners and detainees will be required to memorize the teachings of Atatürk….”
—
“Switch it off,” Ayşe’s grandma said. “Let’s listen to the rain.” Now everyone got quiet. Rain was plip plip plopping on the roof. It hurt, that feeling inside and in my throat, warm and wet. “Sevgi, light me another cigarette,” Ayşe’s dad said.
—
The soldiers were getting smaller and smaller as I looked at the mountains. Birds can fly when it rains a lot, too.
—
“Welcome. Take any table you like.”
The waiter stood there with his hands full of newspapers.
“We’re covering the tables with newspaper. I hope you don’t mind. Our tablecloths are all in the laundry, because of the, you know.”
“The military intervention, or the coup?”
“The coup, brother. The coup.”
The waiter laughed, and so did my dad. They didn’t look at each other, but they laughed together. Like they knew each other.
—
Ayşe’s dad and the waiter knew each other. The waiter calls it a coup, too. They can be friends. But you can’t be friends with people who call the “Çorum Massacre” the “Çorum Incident.” You just can’t.
—
“What can I get you, brother?”
“Put a salad big enough for everyone in the middle of the table. And bring us whichever fish is freshest.”
“All right.”
“We didn’t really come here to eat, though.”
“Oh?”
“We heard about the swans. I read in the paper that they come here, right onto the balcony. I don’t know if it’s true, though.”
“It’s true. The country’s going through hell, but it’s like a carnival here. They say the swans came from, you know, that cold place up in the Soviet Union.”
“Siberia!”
Ali knew. Everyone laughed.
“That’s it. From Siberia. None of the old-timers have seen anything like it. This is the first time swans have come to Ordu. And they picked the day of the coup to do it. It’s strange, isn’t it?”
“Everything’s strange these days.”
Dad played with the salt shaker and the napkins. The waiter put forks on the edges of the newspaper. When it was all spread out, Ali started reading. I looked at what he was reading. So did Grandma.
“Ah! Sevgi, look at this. Look what Bülent Ersoy said: ‘I would like to express my gratitude to all the officers and enlisted men of the army, but in particular to General Kenan Evren. I am prepared, as an artist, to shoulder any duties that may be required of me.’”
Grandma poured a little cologne onto her handkerchief and wiped my hands and Ali’s.
“It’s just what Jale Hanım always wanted. Bülent Ersoy has been brought to heel, too. Bravo!”
Grandma didn’t laugh. I thought she would, but she didn’t. “Don’t say that, Sevgi. The poor girl’s suffered more than anyone. The real freaks are the ones who appear the most normal.” She made her handkerchief into a little ball and put it in her handbag. She smelled her hands.
“Oh! And to think I’d been using Cavit Bey’s nasty tobacco-scented cologne for all those years.”
—
Right by Ayşe’s hand there’s a “joint statement” from famous singers and actors: “May God bless the generals!”
They’re all dressed like teachers. Everyone is serious now. They look like they’re going to school tomorrow and none of them are smiling.
—
“Aydın, let’s order some rakı, too. What do you say? A double for each of us?”
Dad laughed.
“Mother Nejla, would you like a single?”
“I suppose so, seeing as you two are having a drink.”
Mom and Dad laughed.
The waiter came.
“I’ve brought you a bottle of rakı, just in case.”
“Bless you!”
“You did say you came for the swans, brother. I figured you’d want a drink while you were waiting. They should be coming in an hour or so. They always come at the same time. Sister, do you want ice in your rakı?”
The waiter always comes running up and when he’s walking away he taps his fingers on the back of his big tray. He’s so jolly. When the waiter’s gone, Mom says, “People still don’t realize what’s hit them.”
—
I leaned close to Ayşe’s ear.
“They were waiting for us. The swans, I mean. Waiting to take away the swan we saved. Do you understand? They came here every day to check. I wonder how they knew we’d come?”
“They know!” Because she has red spots on her face, Ayşe is beautiful when she opens her eyes big like that. Funny and beautiful. Ayşe’s mother has her hand on her glass of rakı. Sometimes, the sun comes out and the edge of the glass shines and you can’t see her hand. Then a cloud comes, and it’s just her mother’s hand on the glass. Maybe Ayşe’s mother doesn’t know that only when the sun comes out does she tap her ring on the glass, click click. But then she stopped doing it. “Ah!” she said.
—
The fish came. “Brother, would you like to debone it or should I give it to the missus?” the waiter asked. “Let me do it for once,” Dad said. Then he looked at Mom. “What is it, Sevgi?” he said. “Nothing,” Mom said. They listened to the music a little, their eyes on us. The restaurant was playing grandma music.
“You’re gone, and you don’t know …”
“Sevgi, I’m only asking because you said, ‘Ah!’”
“It’s nothing, Aydın. For a moment, I … Well, here we are! Anyway … are you serving the fish? I’d like you to do it.”
Dad cut the fish’s belly, but it fell apart. Then he cut the tail, a little. He couldn’t do it right. The fish got smaller and smaller. It made me laugh. “What’s so funny, Ayşe? You think your clumsy dad’s funny, don’t you? Not you too, Ali. Don’t laugh at me. This fish won’t get the better of me, I can promise you that. W
oah! There we go!” We all laughed a lot, but Mom didn’t make a sound. The music was nice.
—
Ayşe’s mom is looking at Uncle Aydın. She’s leaning back and looking at him like she’s somewhere else. Ayşe’s dad knows, and he’s trying to be funny. The more Ayşe laughs, the more her mom’s eyes fill with tears. She turns her head and looks at the sea. She bends over and looks at her foot. She has a bandage on her heel. She pulls it off. She scrunches up the bandage and she scrunches up her mouth, too, until they’re both tiny. Then, when we started eating our fish, she reached over and took Ayşe’s dad’s hand.
“You did a great job with the fish, Aydın.”
Ayşe’s dad squinted as he looked at her. He didn’t understand. Then he picked up his rakı glass with the two fingers that were still clean.
—
“Mmm, this is delicious. The fish is so fresh,” Dad said. “It really is,” Mom said. “Are these salad greens clean?” Grandma asked, twice. Mom laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Mother. Just for today.”
When Grandma finished her rakı first, Dad laughed.
“Mother Nejla, shall I order you another one?”
When they clinked glasses again, Grandma got like she did with her liqueur. She turned to Mom with wet eyes.
“Sevgi, I’ve been meaning to ask this for years, but somehow the time was never right. That scar on your cheek. When did it happen, my girl? I can’t remember.”
Mom put her hand on her cheek. Her smile was gone. Dad leaned over his fish. He lit a cigarette. Her hand on her cheek, Mom looked at Grandma. She opened her eyes wide. “Mother?” she said, like a child. “Are you saying you never … ?” Dad blew out a big cloud of smoke.
“Mother Nejla, that’s not a scar! On the day she was born, Ayşe gave her mother such a big kiss that it left a mark.”
Mom looked at Dad. She closed her eyes and smiled. Grandma laughed.
“Good heavens, Aydın!”
Dad kept his eyes on Mom. They touched their glasses, softly, without making a sound.
—
Ayşe’s smiled as she looked at her mom and dad. Then she turned to me.
“It’s good we saved the swan, right, Ali? I’m glad we did!”
As I looked at Ayşe’s face, I saw the long shadows of wings behind her. They were coming from far away. Moving their wings, flap flap. It was raining a little, but still they flew.
—
“Uncle Aydın!”
Ali called my dad “Uncle Aydın”! He yelled it out so loud that Dad jumped out of his chair. He was holding a glass of rakı and a cigarette, but he stood up.
“What is it, son?”
“Uncle Aydın! We should get the swan out of the car.”
Ali was acting like a big brother. He moved his eyebrows closer together and stared up at the sky.
He pointed and showed me. “The swans!” I yelled. Everyone got up. Grandma yelled, too.
“Oh my! They’re coming, children!”
Mom asked, “What are you going to do with the swan, Ali?” He put his hand on his hip.
“We’re going to let it fly,” he said.
“All right then, little captain!”
Dad laughed when he said that, but Ali gave him a serious look. The sound of the swans’ wings was coming closer: flap, flap, flap.
Then Ali said it in a low voice Mom and Dad didn’t hear.
“Do that much, at least!”
—
Ayşe’s mom and dad left their rakı on the table and went to the car. They brought the sack back with them. “Wait a minute,” I said. They’re listening to me. Because … because I’m not thinking about if they’ll listen or not.
—
Ali stopped Mom and Dad. He’s so handsome right now! The swans flew and flew and came right up in front of the balcony where our table was. They walked on the water to stop themselves. With their big feet, they walked, their long necks held high. As if the swans don’t know what it is to stop.
“What’s that string for, little captain?” Dad asked. Ali didn’t answer at first. Then Mom asked.
“Ali, dear, what are you going to do with that string?”
Ali looked at me. I went over to him, because I understood.
“We’re going to tie it to the swan’s foot,” I said.
“And why is that, little miss?” Grandma asked.
It got a little quiet. The swans weren’t even flying. Ali finally said it.
“This is from the string for the kite. It’s so Hüseyin Abi and Birgül Abla know which swan is ours. They flew from Samim Abi’s balcony, you know. And turned into swans when they flew. Well, this bit of string is for them.”
Mom closed her mouth and turned around. Dad went black. Grandma whispered to herself, “Oh God, please give us strength of mind.” Ali had already tied on the string, quick as can be.
—
Ayşe’s dad put the swan on the edge of the balcony. So that the other swans would see it first. They were out on the sea. All of them were looking at us. The waiter came up and laughed.
“Brother! Is that swan really yours, like a pet?”
“Shhh!” went Ayşe’s dad. The swan stayed there on the edge of the balcony. The swans on the sea stayed there. The air filled with mist. It was about to rain. “Fly! Fly!” I said to myself. “Go to Hüseyin Abi.”
—
The swan opened it wings. It turned and looked at me and Ali. I know it looked at us. “Thank you! You’re both heroes,” said the swan. Then it waved its wings. It waved them, again and again. And then … it fell!
“Oh no!” we all said. We looked down from the balcony. The swan was flying. It walked across the water so it could land in the sea, but it walked like it would fall. The waiter stood there with us.
“Damn! They’re such beautiful animals!” he said.
We all fell quiet.
“It’s done,” Ali said. He sat down. He started eating his fish. The rest of us were standing. The waiter stuck his hands in his pockets and was walking away. Then he turned around.
“Brother, shall I open up another bottle?” he said.
He didn’t wait for an answer.
“It’s on me!”
—
I’ve never eaten fish before. How do you swallow those sharp things that get stuck in your throat? Ayşe’s dad called out to the waiter.
“Hey, buddy! Could you bring us a couple of plates of melon?”
Glossary
1001 Peaches: 1001 Peaches (sometimes translated as One Peach and 1000 Peaches), Ulduz and the Crows, and The Little Black Fish are children’s books by the Azeri-Iranian author Samad Behrangi.
Ajda Pekkan: glamorous, apolitical singer known as Turkey’s first “superstar” in the seventies and eighties
Alaaddin: a local ultra-nationalist leader
Alevi: a Muslim sect marginalized in the Ottoman Empire and associated in Republican Turkey with secular, left-wing values
Ankara Sarması: a sponge cake spread with a soft filling and rolled up into a spiral
ayran: a cold beverage made of diluted yoghurt and salt
Bahçelievler Bloodbath: the murder on October 1978 of seven left-wing university students by ultranationalists in the Istanbul district of Bahçelievler
Bairam: one of the two Muslim festivals falling after Ramadan
Balgat Bloodbath: a series of attacks in August 1978 in the Ankara district of Balgat. Ultranationalists opened fire on four coffeehouses, killing five and wounding scores
börek: pastry filled or layered with cheese and/or vegetables
Bülent Ecevit: served as prime minister three times in the 1970s as the leader of the CHP. Was the leader of the main opposition at the time of the 1980 coup and was jailed and banned from politics along with the leaders of the other main political parties.
Bülent Ersoy: a gender-fluid actor and singer whose performances, along with those of other transsexual and transgender people, were banned after the 1980 coup
in Turkey. Ersoy had sex reassignment surgery in London in 1981 and was legally recognized as female in Turkey in 1988.
Cem Karaca: Leftwing rock star stripped of his Turkish citizenship after the coup
CHP party: The Republican People’s Party is the oldest political party in Turkey and describes itself as “a modern social democratic party, faithful to the founding principles and values of the Republic of Turkey.”
Citadel: the hilltop ruins of a castle in central Ankara
Çorum: a landlocked city in the Black Sea region of Turkey
Çorum Massacre/Çorum Incident: the massacre in Çorum in 1980 of at least fifty-seven Alevis by radical Sunni Muslims. Hundreds were injured and thousands fled for their lives.
Cumhuriyet: oldest upmarket daily newspaper in Turkey; center-left, secular
Decisions of January 24: roadmap for liberal market reforms prepared by the Turkish government and announced to the public on January 24, 1980
dede: spiritual leader in the Alevi sect
Deniz Gezmiş: a Marxist-Leninist revolutionary executed in 1972 at the age of twenty-five who became an inspirational Che Guevara–like figure for later generations; often depicted in a green parka
DİSK: Turkish acronym for Confederation of Progressive Trade Unions
Diyarbakır: largest city in Turkey’s predominantly Kurdish southeast
Edip Cansever: a leading member of the “second new” generation of Turkish poets
Ernő Nemecsek: one of the main characters from the Paul Street Boys
Fetullah Gülen: a former preacher with millions of followers and an international business and education empire. Gülen, a former ally of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, has been accused by the Turkish government of masterminding the 2016 coup from his exile in Pennsylvania.
Füsun Önal: actress and singer popular from the 1970s onwards
gobit: an onion, bread, and egg sandwich
Gong: magazine specializing in celebrity news
Gırgır magazine: a humor magazine published from 1972 to 1994; gırgır means “fun” in English.
Grey Wolves: an ultranationalist organization
Gün Sazak: a politician and former minister from the ultra-right Nationalist Action Party (MHP), Sazak was respected across the board for stamping out corruption and smuggling during his stint as minister of Customs and Monopolies. Members of the Revolutionary Left claimed credit for gunning Sazak down in front of his home. Members of the MHP responded to Sazak’s assassination by attacking Alevis in Çorum and leftists across Turkey.
The Time of Mute Swans Page 39