She shrieked。 The knife and onion she was holding fell from her hands and
hit the cutting board with such force that the fish she was preparing flopped。
She shrieked again。 We both noticed that the blood on her left hand had
e; not from the fish; but from her index finger; which she’d sliced
accidentally。 I ran upstairs; and as I was searching for a piece of muslin in the
room opposite the one the children were in; I heard their noises and shouts。
Holding the piece of cloth I’d torn off; I entered the room to find that Shevket
had climbed onto his younger brother; pinning Orhan’s shoulders down with
his knees。 He was choking him。
“What are you two doing!” I shouted at the top of my lungs。
“Orhan was leaving the room;” Shevket said。
“Liar;” said Orhan。 “Shevket opened the door and I told him not to leave。”
He began to cry。
“If you don’t sit up here quietly; I’ll kill both of you。”
“Mama; don’t go;” Orhan said。
Downstairs; I bound Hayriye’s finger; stopping the bleeding。 When I told
her that my father hadn’t died a natural death; she grew frightened and
recited some prayers asking for Allah’s protection。 She stared at her injured
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finger and began crying。 Was her affection for my father great enough to
unleash such a fit of crying? She wanted to go upstairs and see him。
“He’s not upstairs;” I said。 “He’s in the back room。”
She gazed at me suspiciously。 But when she realized I couldn’t bear another
look at him; she was overe by curiosity。 She grabbed the lamp and left。 She
took four or five steps beyond the entrance of the kitchen; where I stood; and
with respect and apprehension; she slowly pushed open the door of the room;
and by the light of the lamp she was holding; looked inside。 Unable at first to
see my father; she raised the lamp even higher; trying to illuminate the corners
of the large rectangular room。
“Aaah!” she screamed。 She’d caught sight of my father where I’d left him
just beside the door。 Frozen; she gazed at him。 The shadow she cast along the
floor and stable wall was motionless。 As she looked; I imagined what she was
seeing。 When she returned; she wasn’t crying。 I was relieved to see that she
still had her wits about her; enough to be able to register pletely what I
was prepared to tell her。
“Now listen to me; Hayriye;” I said。 As I spoke; I waved the fish knife; which
my hand had grabbed seemingly on its own。 “The upstairs has been ransacked
too; the same accursed demon has destroyed all; he’s made a shambles of
everything。 That’s where h