Istanbul Noir

by Mustafa Ziyalan

  Oh look! I can’t believe it. Is my young assistant getting a hammer out of that bag of his? Yes, yes, look at him. He puts a nail on the middle of Zekeriya’s head. Right on the top. Zekeriya is not quite aware yet of what’s going to hit him. Ha ha, that’s a funny pun. One, two, three, bang! Now he knows. I think I’d better stop my assistant. The nail is for the next time. We must give him a chance to repent.

  I sense reluctance, but my assistant puts his tools away. He’s a reliable fellow. Someday I’ll show him what else can be done with a hammer and nail. Amazingly effective tools, actually. My hand still hurts from that time my father nailed me to the doorpost, and how many years has it been? But I’ll keep that for later.

  Before we shut the door behind us I hear blubbering from the bathroom. I tell my assistant to get the elevator. He presses the button. He likes that.

  * * *

  Author’s note: In the year 2000, the Turkish police carried out a major operation in Istanbul, raiding cells of an illegal organization and killing their leader at the end of a four-hour armed clash. The organization called itself Hezbollah, which means Party of God. Buried in safe houses scattered throughout the country, the police found nearly a hundred bodies of Hezbollah’s victims, including women. Most of them were small businessmen who had been supporting the organization, but had lost faith in its cause. All victims had been severely tortured.

  AROUND HERE, SOMEWHERE

  BY ALGAN SEZGNTÜRED

  akınbakkal

  By the time he reached the Marmara shore, his lungs were about to explode. He darted across all four lanes of the coastal road, its white stripes shining beneath the orange glow of towering streetlamps, the cars racing by as if speeding were some kind of prerequisite for driving in the wee hours of the night. He had neither the time nor the courage to look back. And rightly so, for just a few yards later he heard someone yell out, telling him to stop. He’d heard it the first time, as he began hightailing it down from Baghdad Avenue, and he knew well and good what the third time meant. Back in the day, he wouldn’t have had to run at all. But these guys were new to the job, they didn’t know how to grease their palms. Yet. Right? Or maybe they were just idealistic kids who refused. Once upon a time, I would’ve refused too. Once upon a time, money wasn’t everything. Once upon a time. But Teoman was no slacker, he had his boys’ backs. Right? Or maybe these guys aren’t idealists, just a little slicker than their predecessors? A little too greedy, pushing for five instead of three? Run. Run, goddamnit. Then again, what the hell if I get caught? I’ll just get roughed up, grin and bear a couple days of questioning, and be out before you know it. Nothing new to me. Besides, it’s not really me they’re after. They know who I am, the shit I’m up to. I’m a little fish. It’s only been two years since I started, though I’m no rookie. I’m not falling for it; I know exactly what those guys dish out, and how much. And those laws that are changing as Turkey tries to get its eager little foot in the door to the European Union, well, they’re in my favor. Their beef is really with Teoman, not me. And damned if they’ll ever catch him. None of you guys have ever even seen him, let alone know where he is! That man’s got your daddies on a leash!

  Should I ditch the bags? Ditch ’em, get rid of ’em, then plead your case before that asshole Teoman. Right! “You know how much that shit’s worth, huh?” “Of course, boss.” Fucking heartless dwarf! No way you can explain. The man won’t listen. Better to risk it.

  I nearly stumble. Not far now. The lights over on that side are out. What luck! And right at the breakwater too. C’mon, Tufan! Run. Keep it up, boy. Dude, if you go and fill up a shore with sand, then you doll it up with some fucking fast growing trees! That’s what you’re supposed to do. Damn city … Now I’m just a sitting duck. It’s all in the legs. My lungs are gonna explode. I can’t breathe.

  The third warning came just a few steps from his destination.

  I don’t know how, but I feel it; these guys don’t give a shit about the law; they’re not gonna just fire into the air. Fucking rookies! Into the air, dudes, into the air!

  A shot rings out. He thrusts himself between two high-speed boats docked inside the breakwater. Man, that hurt. Knee, elbow, pain from head to toe. But don’t move. This place is dark enough. Maybe they won’t see you.

  He waited, his breath bated. He didn’t budge. The pain, it would pass. It was all about not getting caught. Actually, it wasn’t so much about not getting caught as it was about not getting caught right now. Because tomorrow is Sunday. And that means Yeliz is coming over. The girl’s only got one day off a week as it is, and I can’t spend that day in custody. Keep it up, just a little longer. I’m wearing black, and I’m surrounded by darkness. And there’s no moon. Lie down flat. Hide your face, don’t let it shine. Maybe they won’t see you. They might think you’ve escaped.

  Damn it, quit prancing around! Fuck off already! Go look for me somewhere else!

  Wait! Best to crawl between the boats. I learned this crawling thing back in the military. Don’t raise your ass; keep your knees to the ground, go easy on the cartilage. On your knees, that’s right. Just like they got you doing in civilian life too. Well, damned if I can’t crawl with the best of ’em. Oh yeah, that’s it. Slowly. Right there, between the boats.

  Tufan, a dealer on Baghdad Avenue, slithered his way between two canvas-clad boats, and continued on all fours.

  Just a little further. That’s it, right there. There are more than twenty boats here. And it’s dark. They’ll never find you. Ha! They’re not even coming. Stupid rookies. Wait a minute. Let me just stick my head out here a bit. Aha. They’re gone. Idiots! Wait, maybe they’ve gone down below?

  He leaned over and looked down at the concrete path along the coast. All clear. Well fuck me! Those guys really are rookies. Man, it’s not like I disappeared into thin air, the least you could do is come down and take a look.

  I can’t believe it! I lost them! The suckers are gone. Yes! Tufan, my man, just wait a little bit, and then go home and reward yourself. You deserve it. Seems I ain’t such a bad sprinter after all!

  What? Wait a second. What’s that? Hold on, there’s someone there. Over there, way at the end of the breakwater. Holy shit! They’re not gone after all.

  Tufan quickly crouched back down, his heart racing once again.

  How did I miss them? They must have slipped by me, hurried all the way down there. Impossible, but … Wait a second.

  He held his breath, poked his head out, slowly.

  There were two of them. But this guy’s alone. And he’s just sitting there. What the … ? At this hour? Maybe he’s one of those winos. Or some guy with the blues, got himself a bottle of wine, swinging his legs over the sea. Maybe he’s about to drown himself. Maybe he’s trying to decide, right now. But then that’s everyone’s predicament in this country, right? Sucked the life out of every damn one of us. Wait! Maybe he’s got some money on him. A swift kick to the head, take the money, and run. Better than showing up at Teoman’s empty-handed.

  Still doubled over, he slipped out of his hiding place and started weaving his way through the boats. He’d forgotten all about the fuzz; his hand went to his pocket and he pulled out his switchblade.

  He approached the man in complete silence, deftly, carefully, but then, just as he was about to assume his position, the man turned his head.

  And Tufan, there before a face he recognized even in the dim light of a distant lamp, did not know where to hide his knife.

  “Ekber Amca?”

  The old man squinted at him. His eyes searched the face of the younger man, who swiftly moved to conceal his weapon behind his back. Ekber Amca’s eyes, wrinkled around the edges, sparkled at finally having found what he was looking for, and a smile immediately spread across his face.

  “Tufan?”

  “Amca, what are you doing here at this hour?”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “For what?”

  Instead of answering, the old man motion
ed for Tufan to sit next to him. Come, sit down. Don’t stand there, I don’t know how long we’ll be waiting. Tufan looked at him, puzzled.

  “Come,” the old man said. “Don’t be afraid, they can’t see you anymore.”

  “Who?”

  “Weren’t you just running from the police?”

  Tufan continued to stare at him with uncomprehending eyes.

  “Just come here and sit down. It’s good that you’ve come. We can have a chat.”

  Tufan didn’t know what to say. It was their downstairs neighbor, Ekber Amca.

  Oh man, Ekber Amca was on my case all the time when I was a kid! Don’t play in the garden, watch out for the flowers, don’t pick the plums until they’re ripe … He’d yell at me all day, and go tattle to my daddy at night. Got plenty of ass kickings thanks to you, huh, Ekber Amca? But then, can’t really blame you much. You don’t really get it when you’re a kid though, do you? Your wife had passed away, your kids had grown up to be useless ingrates, and nobody ever called on you anymore. You were screwed, nothing left, nothing but your house. Loneliness. I didn’t understand it at the time, of course. Crotchety old man just looking for somebody to yell at, that’s what I thought. My mom, may she rest in peace, she stayed out of it most of the time, but my dad, he’d beat the crap out of me, just ’cause I’d ruffled your feathers. Probably because he was sick of your nagging. My dad was a crank anyways, had no tolerance for me getting on anybody’s nerves. A call from the principal’s office, and whap. Someone in the neighborhood ratted on me and it was, “Come here, boy!” Ekber Amca, man, you know what, you were the freaking bane of my existence; you still like that now or what, you son of a—? I was a kid, man, how could I know what you were up against?

  “Of course, how could you?” said the old man, his eyes still fixed on the horizon, which was covered in a sheet of darkness, pierced only by the lights of the Princes’ Islands. “You were a child.”

  Ah fuck! Is this guy reading my mind?

  “Of course I am. What’s wrong with that?”

  Fine, then read this!

  “Shame on you, Tufan. All grown up, but still the same old good-for-nothing punk.”

  What the hell do you know about what I am?

  “I know you got mixed up in drugs and whatnot, dropped out of college, and made a royal mess of your life. And I know that you deal out on the avenue. That enough for you?”

  Oh, c’mon! Man, what’s going on here? Is this some kind of dream or something?

  “Dream …” The old man peered intently at Tufan. “A dream, of course. What did you think it was? I’m sitting here at the breakwater, by myself, at some ungodly hour. It’s dark out. I’m alone. You run away from the police and come here. Yep, a dream. All of it. Life, etcetera. It’s all one big dream … What? ‘Cheap-ass philosophy,’ you say? Now look here, you little twerp!”

  “Not swallowing it, Ekber Amca. I don’t get whatever it is you’re up to, but I’m out of here.” He started to get up, and the old man smiled again.

  “Sit down. What kind of a man are you anyway? Aren’t you the least bit curious? Shouldn’t you be wondering what the hell some old man like me is doing out here like this? Sheesh.”

  Tufan turned and stared at the head of the breakwater. Shit! Those guys are still here. There, over there, where I jumped into the breakwater.

  “Don’t bother, son. They can’t see you.”

  Tufan frowned. What do you mean?

  “I mean, they can’t see you. Forget it. Now look here, I’ve got something to tell you: I think heaven’s around here, somewhere.”

  “Wha—?”

  “Heaven, I said. I think it’s around here somewhere.”

  Tufan glanced over his shoulder again. The two plainclothes narcs who’d just been chasing after him, and who a short while before had tried to bust him as he was passing the goods to some upstart, were still standing in front of the two boats he’d slid between after jumping into the breakwater.

  “What do you think?”

  Tufan looked again at the man sitting next to him. Okay, so this is definitely Ekber Amca. So …

  “Calm down now, son. Like I told you, they can’t see you. So now, tell me, what do you think?”

  “About what?”

  “Boy, would you stop looking around? They can’t see you. So?”

  “So what?”

  “You know, heaven.” “What freaking heaven?”

  “Heaven heaven.” He motioned vaguely toward the sea. “I think it’s somewhere around here.”

  “Heaven?”

  “Yes.”

  “Around here?”

  “Yes.”

  “You mean, in the sea?”

  “No, son. I mean in akınbakkal.”

  “Heaven? Heaven, like, paradise? In akınbakkal.”

  “Yep.”

  Tufan laughed. Heaven? You’ve had a little too much to drink there, have you, amca? I mean, if you’re talking about hell, okay, but Ekber Amca, if this haven of lowlifes is any kind of heaven, at best it’s a heaven for rich bastards.

  “Shame on you, Tufan.”

  What, you saying it ain’t true? What middle-class stiff can buy anything from those stores on the avenue? How much is the rent? But never mind that, you know how nuts they go for these worthless pills? No, of course you don’t.

  “How could I know, son?”

  Well, then who are you to talk? What kind of heaven could this place possibly be?

  “What’s heaven like then, Tufan?”

  “Shit, I don’t know … Huris, gılmans, all that stuff.”

  “So, let’s start with the huris. You mean to say there aren’t any girls here? But what beauties there are on our street alone!”

  “Uhh, for example … ?”

  “Esra, Arif’s daughter, on the third floor?”

  “Who? That slut Esra?”

  The old man pursed his lips together and gave Tufan a stern look.

  “What?” Tufan said. “You’re not going to tell me about Esra now, are you? Oh man, Ekber Amca … kids these days ain’t what they were back in your day, you know!”

  “I know,” the old man said. He sighed, shook his head. “I know.”

  Tufan felt his stomach knot up. Man, did I say something wrong?

  “No, son, why do you think it’s wrong? If you say so, it is so.”

  “Look here,” Tufan said, trying to cheer the old man back up. “Your whole heaven business already went belly up.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I mean, you’re talking about beautiful girls, and you fell flat with that first example.”

  “How so? You mean Esra isn’t pretty?”

  “Of course she is. She’s beautiful, but—” He paused. Man, you can’t just come up and tell him the chick puts out to everyone and his brother just for a couple of grams of powder. But then you did already blurt out the whole slut thing … C’mon now, amca, you sit at that window all day. Don’t you see that girl coming and going? You think those sunken eyes are from studying all the time? Can you really be that fucking naïve? Man! He raised his head and looked at the old guy. “You were reading my mind again, weren’t you?”

  “I was, son. But there’s no need, I already know about Esra’s predicament. Like you said, I sit at the window all day, and I’m not blind. But anyway, my claim remains.”

  “What claim?”

  “About heaven.”

  “You mean, even if she’s a slut?”

  “What exactly are huris supposed to do, Tufan?”

  Tufan tried to recall what he’d been told in religion class back in school, or the things he’d heard during his childhood. He hadn’t had anything to do with God for some time. After his father died and he’d gotten the apartment all to himself, he never went to prayer, not even on religious holidays. He could hardly remember a thing. But okay, the duty of huris …

  “That’s exactly it, Tufan.”

  “What, you mean about them being some kind of whor
es, right?”

  Ekber Amca burst out laughing.

  “Nooo! What kind of language is that now?”

  Well, what then?

  “Theirs is a holy duty.”

  “Oh, so you mean if she spreads her legs for every Tom, Dick, and Harry here, she’s a slut, but over there …”

  “Slut’s a term we use, son. A label we slap onto people when it suits us. Look up. We can’t know who’s what in His eyes, now, can we? Look, for example, back in Sumer, it was the responsibility of priestesses.”

  “Now you’re messing with me.”

  “It’s historical fact.”

  “Well,” said Tufan, laughing, “then you’re right. akınbakkal’s crawling with huris.”

  “And handsome gılmans too.”

  “If it’s like you say, then yes.” Tufan was in a good mood now. He’d forgotten all about the police. But wait, what about the abundance, all that milk and honey in heaven?

  “You said it yourself.”

  “Said what?”

  “That akınbakkal could only be a heaven for rich people. I mean,” he said, spreading his arms out, “you want abundance, well, here you have it.”

  “Like that abundance is for us.”

  “Why not? You get your share, don’t you?”

  “Selling drugs?”

  “However. The fact of the matter is that there is abundance here, and you benefit from it.” The old man laughed again, then stopped and shook his head. “No, I haven’t lost my marbles from loneliness, or from sitting at the window all day. But, well, yeah, when you’ve got nothing else to do, you think … a lot.”

  “So, you mean you thought and you pondered, long and hard, and you found heaven, here?”

  “Not yet. But it’s around here, somewhere. Or at least, it seems like it to me. Look around you: the sea in front of us. Look at those lights coming from the islands, like a necklace of jewels there on the dark sea. Where else can you find such beauty? This is one of the most beautiful seas on earth.”