Felâtun Bey and Râkim Efendi

by Ahmet Mithat Efendi

  Chapter 9

  THINGS CONTINUED ALONG AS USUAL. That is, Râkım continued to fulfill his duties as a translator, writer, and teacher. If there was an apparent modification in the state of affairs, it was the slight change in the way the English girls treated him.

  For example, although Râkım had met with them several times over the past week or so, the girls, especially the eldest, Jan, continued to act in a way that suggested they might have developed a grudge or some kind of animosity toward their dear teacher. It wasn’t possible for this attitude to go unnoticed; in fact, Râkım thought that perhaps he wasn’t needed there anymore. As a result, he canceled the lesson one night on purpose. However, when he came back the next day, the girls asked him why he had canceled the lesson and what had prevented him from coming, and said that they were bored in his absence. Jan said, “Don’t you know that we enjoy your lessons more than anything else? We forget all about our hearts’ troubles thanks to your lessons.” As they had gone this far in the discussion, Râkım wanted to get to the bottom of his suspicions. Yet, he cut it short, thinking, “One declaration leads to another, and these declarations then provoke undesirable revelations.”

  Afterwards, the girls’ demeanor changed. At the end of the lesson, they did nothing but inquire about Janan’s situation. Jan competed with her little sister in these interrogations. They asked all sorts of questions, including questions about Janan’s education and even the purpose she served in the house!

  Râkım didn’t need to think too hard to realize the motivations behind these questions; however, since he found these motivations unsettling, he put aside his suspicions and came up with an appropriate answer to their questions. For instance, when they asked him what purpose Janan currently served in the house, he said, “My nanny is very lonesome. And doesn’t somebody need to manage the household? That’s what Janan does, she manages the household.”

  Yet, Jan’s curiosity was such that she remained unsatisfied with these perfunctory answers. She seemed bewildered when she heard Râkım’s answer and responded, “How strange that the femme de chambre (chambermaid) is such a young, beautiful, and bejeweled girl, and that she wears three to five hundred liras worth of diamonds!” Râkım’s suspicions were only heightened by her puzzled reaction.

  It has been three months since Râkım hosted the English family at his house. During this time, Janan has grown more independent in front of her master. For example, from time to time, Nanny’s eyes unwittingly caught a glimpse of Râkım’s arms around Janan’s neck in the living room. If Nanny were a curious woman, she could have seen some even more pleasant scenes. However, these scenes were enough for her to know that Râkım—her son, master; in short, her everything in this world—had found bliss. Besides, Janan didn’t hide anything from her nanny and would have told her about it anyway.

  Oh my! For God’s sake, what kind of incidents would she tell her about?

  To be honest, if you want the truth, Janan didn’t recount every detail to her nanny. According to what Janan said, her master would summon her at night to have a heart-to-heart conversation. The occasional black marks observed on Janan’s face and neck shouldn’t be considered signs of dishonor for a female slave in Janan’s position, but rather signs of honor.

  Bravo, Râkım! He really was happy!

  Yes, he was! But for Râkım, all happiness was destined to arrive mixed with a few tears; this happiness, too, had come in return for a fair amount of tears.

  Now that Janan had met the English girls that Râkım had been teaching until midnight twice a week, she was consumed with all sorts of suspicions. When Râkım returned to his house at night after these lessons, he could see signs of Janan’s distress. Her eyes were red, eyelashes still wet, her voice trembled, and sometimes she was even short of breath. Wasn’t Râkım supposed to dispel poor Janan’s anguish out of his love for her? Oh, how can a lover dispel such grief when away from his beloved? Of course by offering her compliments and expressions of his sincerity, love, and loyalty. The signs of Râkım’s love were clearly visible on Janan’s face and neck.

  Do you ever recall Felâtun Bey?

  Forget that frivolous fool!

  But don’t say that! Half of this story belongs to him. We need to know what happened to him over the course of these last three months.

  Paying for his accommodation at Hotel J—— began to seem excessive and exorbitant.

  Well, well! So does this now mean that he started pulling himself together?

  Yes! They say that money and reason don’t go together. Felâtun Bey was a perfect illustration of this statement. After he had engaged in all kinds of reckless spending and lost about seventy-five percent of his fortune, reason began to replace his lost wealth. In order to reduce his expenditures so to speak, he rented a house in Büyükdere, a suitable choice for the season, and moved his madame into the house.

  Now let us turn our glances to the English girls—yes, to the English girls. After all, their situation has already begun to preoccupy us. It most certainly has. The poor elder sister—Jan, that is—fell ill. What kind of illness? Nobody knew. There were no apparent symptoms! It started with melancholy. She was restless. Even the Turkish books that she loved so dearly and never stopped reading failed to entertain her. Concerned about Jan’s condition, her parents, with their doctor’s approbation, would try to entertain her by taking her for a stroll in their carriage down to Taksim and into the countryside. However, even this couldn’t distract the girl. When her father said, “Come on, my dear girl, here, our carriage is ready, let’s go for a ride,” the girl consented wearily. If her father asked, “Well, where shall we go today?” the girl would say, “Wherever you wish. It makes no difference to me.” When she said this, her father realized that even if he were to take her to heaven, it would be to no avail.

  You know what happens to a person who suffers from this illness, don’t you? They become listless, turn pale, and lose weight. This is exactly what happened to Jan. This sturdy English girl, who Felâtun had likened to a carrot and a beet, turned as colorless as a potato. Her lips blanched and paled. Those blue eyes became hollow and looked like worn turquoise.

  Râkım felt sorry when he saw the poor girl in this state. Whenever he ran into an expert doctor, he’d describe her symptoms and ask for the doctor’s opinion. After thinking about it for a while, the doctor would inquire who the patient was and Râkım would say that she was a dear acquaintance. The doctor would then reply, “It’s all right, she’ll be fine,” with an expression that didn’t quite match his words.

  They even had to cancel the Turkish lesson once. For a while, the family sent the girl to their friends’ house in Kadıköy for a change of scenery. However, the poor girl’s anguish only increased during her stay there. She wrote a letter home, to her sister that is, asking her to send her poetry journal. In the margin of the letter, she added that she “would be happy if Râkım Efendi came to check on her from time to time.” Margaret sent her sister the journal and showed the note to her father. By know you should know that her father would do anything within his power to please Jan. He immediately sent a man to invite Râkım over and Râkım made his way to the Ziklas household at once.

  MR. ZIKLAS: My dear Râkım Efendi! I have a request for you. Our Jan says that she’d be pleased if you could visit her sometime. However, if this service will keep you from your work, don’t be afraid, I’m happy to recompense you.

  RKIM: Not at all, Mr. Ziklas. Thinking so much about one’s own profit might be a European thing to do but it certainly isn’t Ottoman. Absolutely. I’ll go tomorrow.

  MR. ZIKLAS: Could you possibly go tonight? Although there won’t be any ferries now, you can hire a little boat.

  RKIM: At this time of the night? Wouldn’t I be disturbing the household?

  MR. ZIKLAS: Ah, you’re right! I’m just so worried about this girl.

  RKIM: We all are, Sir.

  Râkım found himself in Kadıköy early the next morning. W
hen Jan saw her teacher, she smiled slightly and this expression made the host family so happy that they immediately wrote about it to her parents. This is what parenthood is like! It was just before noon when Jan’s parents and sister showed up in Kadıköy, for the news of Jan’s having smiled was a great blessing for them.

  Margaret found her sister with Hafez’s collected works in her hands. Jan cheered up when she saw her parents, and everyone was pleased to see her in this happy state. After sitting with her until evening, they were even more delighted when Jan expressed her desire to go home with them; so they all returned together.

  So when she came back . . .

  Indeed, her condition worsened soon afterwards. On the third day after her return home, her demeanor altered entirely and she took to her bed.

  Doctor Z——, who had been treating her all along, couldn’t come up with a firm diagnosis, and for lack of evidence, settled on tuberculosis. Finally, one night as the doctor was reading ancient history, he happened upon a story and decided to act in accordance with it.

  What was the story?

  What use is the story? Look at what he did and you’ll understand. He went to the Ziklas household the next morning and asked who the girl saw on a regular basis. Mr. Ziklas couldn’t think of more than two or three people apart from his own family, Râkım and the servants. Doctor Z—— requested that all of those people gather there around mid-afternoon that same day; he also recommended that these people be kept in a separate room away from the patient.

  At mid-afternoon, the doctor found all these people waiting in the room just as he had requested. He asked Mrs. Ziklas to send them into Jan’s room one by one and joined Mr. Ziklas next to her bed. The desperate girl was in an extremely weak state. The doctor and her father placed their hands on the girl’s heart and noticed how weakly her heart beat. The first person to enter the room was the son of their Italian neighbors. When the girl saw him, she tried to put her own troubles aside and asked the boy how he was doing, “How are you Monsieur Cyrano, doing well?” Even though Cyrano approached the bed, held her hand, and asked how she was doing, there was no change in Jan’s heartbeat, which appeared to be fairly at ease. At the doctor’s signal, Cyrano exited the room and this time a married Greek neighbor entered. There were still no extraordinary movements in her heart. No changes were observed at entrance of the French coachman either. Râkım was the fourth to enter and even as he made his way in through the door, her heart started beating fiercely just as it does when one wakes up from sleep!

  The doctor immediately jabbed Mr. Ziklas with his elbow. Mr. Ziklas winked to say, “I see.”

  This wasn’t the only discernible change in Jan when Râkım entered. A series of expressions of joy and happiness appeared on her face. She exchanged greetings with her teacher more keenly than she did with anyone else. She wanted to rise and sit up in her bed. And so she did! The doctor didn’t see any need to continue with his experiment, so he allowed everyone to enter the room and sit together. Meanwhile, in another room, the doctor and Mr. Ziklas had the following conversation:

  DOCTOR: Did you understand what caused the change in her heart as her teacher entered the room?

  MR. ZIKLAS: How couldn’t I? I feared that the heart under my hand was about to jump out of her chest. Ah, how fragile she is!

  DOCTOR: Sir, don’t get me wrong. But her illness is the illness of love and desire.

  MR. ZIKLAS: If that’s the case, then she is in love with Râkım Efendi. Am I right?

  DOCTOR: There, you said it yourself.

  MR. ZIKLAS: Well . . . what’s the cure for this?

  DOCTOR: There is no cure, Sir.

  MR. ZIKLAS: What’s going to happen to her then?

  DOCTOR: To be honest, I shouldn’t be saying this since you are her father but there is nothing left to hide here, so I’ll just say it. This girl won’t survive in this condition for another two months.

  MR. ZIKLAS: For God’s sake, Monsieur Z——!

  DOCTOR: I am telling you what I see! Well, there is a cure for this but I doubt if it’s realizable.

  MR. ZIKLAS: I’ll make it happen!

  DOCTOR: Would you marry your girl to Monsieur Râkım?

  MR. ZIKLAS (consumed by boundless excitement, after some silence): What should I do . . . watch her die? If it were up to me, I would marry her to Râkım.

  DOCTOR: Well, it’s a possibility. It’s your decision. If you want, we can forbid the teacher from any contact with the girl.

  MR. ZIKLAS: Would it help?

  DOCTOR: No! But she might die a week earlier and be freed. You should have thought about this before. You shouldn’t have allowed such a young teacher to get near your girls in the first place.

  MR. ZIKLAS: Don’t you know Râkım Efendi?

  DOCTOR: I didn’t notice any change in Râkım’s expression that would indicate love or romantic interest. It seems as if he pitied her, almost like a brother.

  MR. ZIKLAS: I know Râkım to be this way as well and I trust him completely. I mean, Râkım has never done anything to realize her hopes.

  DOCTOR: I agree with you. However, a man doesn’t have to say anything to a girl for her to fall in love with him. Do I need to say more? If your daughter and Râkım Efendi had a mutual love for each other and if they expressed this love, then this illness wouldn’t have stricken her. Instead of this illness, she would have ended up with an illness of indecency. However . . .

  MR. ZIKLAS: You are absolutely right, Monsieur Z——. I have no reason to believe that Râkım had any such designs on her. My desperate girl brought this on herself; she is killing herself. Let’s see. If I can convince her, her mother, and Râkım, I will marry her to him. It’s better than killing her . . .

  DOCTOR: If that were to happen, we might well hope for her recovery.

  There, this was how the examination was carried out that day; however, neither the girls nor Râkım, nor even Mrs. Ziklas had any knowledge concerning the hidden intent behind this examination. That night Mr. Ziklas informed his wife about the real intent behind the examination and told her that the only way to cure their daughter’s illness was to marry her to Râkım. Oh, imagine her trepidation, distress, and opposition! She rejected it once and for all. She concluded that they needed to resign themselves to her death and asked her husband how he could bear the shame of marrying their daughter to someone else when the girls had so many cousins. Especially to a Turk and, what’s worse, her teacher.

  Oh poor Mrs. Ziklas! Her decision didn’t sit well with her soul. How can any mother consent to her daughter’s death? A couple hours later, she realized how flawed her decision had been and, crying, came to the same conclusion her husband had.

  We already told you that Râkım had no knowledge of the hidden intent behind the examination. We wonder if Râkım had any idea that he was the cause of the girl’s illness. Absolutely not! He did recognize that Jan was jealous of Janan when she questioned him about her but he couldn’t imagine the possibility that this jealousy stemmed from her hidden desire and love for him. Hence, all of the sadness he felt for this poor patient stemmed from his sincere fondness for her. He returned home after the examination dispirited and in great dismay. When his nanny and Janan inquired, Râkım told them that Jan was ill and on her deathbed. That night Janan, out of genuine compassion, expressed pity for the young girl on her deathbed, yet she also ventured to ask Râkım about the reason for his intense concern.

  RKIM: My God! Keep on asking and you will make me even more suspicious!

  JANAN (fearfully): No, Sir, I don’t suspect anything! I just see you very sad, that’s all.

  RKIM: Tell me, how can I not be sad? How can one not feel sorry for a healthy young girl on her deathbed?

  There, you see, Râkım’s fondness for Jan owed solely to his humanity and compassion. Have you also noticed that Janan has grown more audacious in front of Râkım?

  The next morning, Mr. Ziklas’s servant came again and invited Râkım back to their house.
Râkım immediately inquired about Jan’s condition but what could this man possible say? Isn’t “a little better” just a standard phrase?

  Râkım got up and made his way directly to Beyoğlu with no other thought in his mind. He found Mr. Ziklas and the doctor, Monsieur Z——, together in a room, so, naturally, he joined them. After asking about the patient’s condition, receiving some kind of an answer, and talking about this and that, the doctor asked:

  DOCTOR: My young man! Do you know why we invited you here today?

  RKIM: What’s the matter, Monsieur Z——?

  DOCTOR: You appear to be the cause of our patient’s illness.

  RKIM (unable to conceal his anxiety although without a full grasp of what was happening): How so, Monsieur Z——?

  DOCTOR: Just as you appear to be the cause of her illness, we now also expect you to cure it.

  RKIM (finally realizing the truth and feeling distressed): For God’s sake Monsieur Z——! Are you about to tell me something that’s never crossed my mind before?

  MR. ZIKLAS (crying): It’s all right, Monsieur Râkım, it’s all right. We’re going to tell you something that has never crossed your mind before. The thing that’s never occurred to you has been preoccupying Jan for some time now.

  Râkım went ice cold and turned white as a sheet.

  DOCTOR: My friend, this girl is suffering from love and affection—love and affection she feels for you. Yesterday’s examination proved this.

  RKIM: Mr. Ziklas! Monsieur Z——! I assure you, I’ll swear on anything you like that I didn’t know about any of this until this very second and I still can’t believe it.

  MR. ZIKLAS AND DOCTOR: Yes, we know.

  RKIM (without interrupting): Now, I am searching my soul and in all honesty, I can’t find any trace of such feelings for her. Still, I did love Jan. And I say proudly that I do love her. I also love Margaret. Yet, I love them like my children, sisters, or sincere friends.