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my name is red-我的名字叫红-第40节

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old sword to scare thieves off。 
Black  hastily  returned  with  his  money  purse。  “Clothier  woman;”  he  said; 
making himself heard to the meddling landlady rather than myself。 “Take this 
and  bring  it  to  our  suffering  patient。  If  he  has  any  response  for  me;  I’ll  be 
waiting。 You can find me at Master Enishte’s house; where I’ll spend the rest 
of the day。” 
There’s no need for all of these games。 No cause for a young brave…heart like 
Black to hide his amatory maneuvers; the signals he receives; the handkerchiefs 
and letters he sends in pursuit of a maiden。 Or does he truly have his eye on 
his landlady’s daughter? At times; I didn’t trust Black at all and was afraid that 
he was deceiving Shekure terribly。 How is it that; despite spending his entire 
day with Shekure in the same house; he’s incapable of giving her a sign? 
Once I was outside; I opened the purse。 It contained twelve silver coins and 
a letter。 I was so curious about the letter that I nearly ran to Hasan。 Vegetable…
sellers had spread out cabbage; carrots and the rest in front of their shops。 But 
I didn’t even have it in me to touch the plump leeks that were crying out to 
me to fondle them。 
I turned onto the side street; and saw that the blind Tatar was there waiting 
to heckle me again。 “Tuh;” I spat in his direction; that was all。 Why doesn’t this 
biting cold freeze these vagrants to death? 
As  Hasan  silently  read  the  letter;  I  could  barely  maintain  my  patience。 
Finally; unable to restrain myself; I suddenly said “Yes?” and he began reading 
aloud: 
 
My  Dearest  Shekure;  you’ve  requested  that  I  plete  your  father’s  book。  You 
can be certain that I have no other goal。 I visit your house for this reason; not to 
pester you; as you’d earlier indicated。 I’m quite aware that my love for you is my 
own  concern。  Yet;  due  to  this  love;  I’m  unable  properly  to  take  up  my  pen  and 
write what your father—my dear Uncle—has requested for his book。 Whenever I 
sense your presence in the house; I seize up and am of no service to your father。 I’ve 
mulled this over extensively and there can be but one cause: After twelve years; I’ve 
seen your face only once; when you showed yourself at the window。 Now; I quite 
fear losing that vision。 If I could once more see you close…up; I’d have no fear of 
losing you; and I could easily finish your father’s book。 Yesterday; Shevket brought 
me to the abandoned house of the Hanged Jew。 No one will see us there。 Today; at 
147 
 
whatever  time  you  see  fit;  I’ll  go  there  and  wait  for  you。  Yesterday;  Shevket 
mentioned that you dreamt your husband had died。 
 
Hasan read the letter mockingly; in places raising his already high…pitched 
voice  even  higher  like  a  woman’s;  and  in  places;  emulating  the  trembling 
supplication of a lover who’d lost all reason。 He made light of Black’s having 
written his wish “to see you just once” in Persian。 He added; “As soon as Black 
saw  that  Shekure  had  given  him  some  hope;  he  quickly  began  to  negotiate。 
Such haggling isn’t something a genuine lover would resort to。” 
“He’s genuinely in love with Shekure;” I said naively。 
“This ment proves that you’ve taken Black’s side;” he said。 “If Shekure 
has written that she dreamt my older brother was dead; it means she accepts 
her husband’s death。” 
“That was just a dream;” I said like an idiot。 
“I  know  how  smart  and  cunning  Shevket  is。  We  lived  together  for  many 
years! Without his mother’s permission and prodding; he’d never have taken 
Black to the house of the Hanged Jew。 If Shekure thinks she’s through with my 
older brother—with us—she’s terribly mistaken! My older brother is still alive 
and he’ll return from the war。” 
Before he had a chance to conclude; he went into the next room where he 
intended to light a candle; but succeeded only in burning his hand。 He let out 
a  howl。  All  the  while  licking  the  burn;  he  finally  lit  the  candle  and  placed  it 
beside  a  folding  worktable。  He  produced  a  reed  pen  from  its  case;  dipped  it 
into an inkwell and began furiously writing on a small piece of paper。 I sensed 
his  pleasure  at  my  watching  him;  and  to  show  that  I  wasn’t  afraid;  I  smiled 
exaggeratedly。 
“Who is this Hanged Jew; you must know?” he asked。 
“Just  beyond  these  houses  there’s  a  yellow  one。  They  say  that  Moshe 
Hamon; the beloved doctor of the previous Sultan and the wealthiest of men; 
had for years hidden his Jewish mistress from Amasya and her brother there。 
Years ago in Amasya; on the eve of Passover; when a Greek youth supposedly 
”disappeared‘ in the Jeed that he’d been strangled 
so unleavened bread could be made from his blood。 When false witnesses were 
brought  forward;  an  execution  of  Jews  began;  however;  the  Sultan’s  beloved 
doctor  helped  this  beautiful  woman  and  her  brother  escape;  and  hid  them 
with the permission of the Sultan。 After the Sultan died; His enemies couldn’t 
148 
 
find  the  beautiful  woman;  but  they  hanged  her  brother;  who’d  been  living 
alone。“ 
“If Shekure doesn’t wait for my brother to e back from the front; they’ll 
punish her;” said Hasan; handing me the letters。 
No  anger  or  wrath  could  be  seen  on  his  face;  just  the  misfortune  and 
sorrow particular to the love…stricken。 I suddenly saw in his eyes how fast love 
had  aged  him。  The  money  he’d  begun  to  earn  working  in  customs  hadn’t 
made him more youthful at all。 After all his offended grimaces and threats; it 
dawned on me that he might once again ask me how Shekure could be won 
over。  But  he’d  e  so  close  to  being  thoroughly  evil  that  he  could  no 
longer ask。 Once one accepts evil—and rejection in love is a significant cause 
for doing so—cruelty folloe afraid of my thoughts and that 
terrible red sword the boys talked about; which severed whatever it touched; 
in my desperation to leave; in a near frenzy; I stumbled outside onto the street。 
This was how I fell unwitting victim to the curses of the Tatar beggar。 But I 
immediately pulled myself together。 I softly dropped a small stone I’d picked 
off the ground into his handkerchief and said; “There you go; mangy Tatar。” 
Without  laughing;  I  watched  his  hand  reach  hopefully  for  the  stone  he 
thought  was  a  coin。  Ignoring  his  curses;  I  headed  toward  one  of  my 
“daughters;” whom I’d married off to a good husband。 
That sweet “daughter” of mine served me a piece of spinach pie; a leftover; 
but still crisp。 For the afternoon meal she was preparing lamb stew in a sauce 
heavy with beaten eggs and spiced with sour plum; just the way I like it。 So as 
not to disappoint her; I waited and ate two full ladles with fresh bread。 She’d 
also  made  a  nice  pote  of  stewed  grapes。  Without  any  hesitation;  I 
requested some rose…petal jam; a spoonful of which I stirred into the pote 
before topping off my meal。 Afterward; I went on to deliver the letters to my 
melancholy Shekure。 
 
 
   
149 
 
I; SHEKURE 
 
I  was  in  the  midst  of  folding  and  putting  away  the  clothes  that  had  been 
washed  and  hung  out  to  dry  yesterday  when  Hayriye  announced  Esther  had 
e…or; this was what I planned to tell you。 But why should I lie? All right 
then; when Esther arrived; I was spying on my father and Black through the 
closet peephole; impatiently waiting for the letters from Black and Hasan; and 
thus;  my  mind  was  preoccupied  with  her。  Just  as  I  sensed  that  my  father’s 
fears of death were justified; I also knew Black’s interest in me wasn’t eternal。 
He was in love insofar as he wanted to be married; and because he wanted to 
be married; he easily fell in love。 If not me; he’d love。 If not me; he’d marry 
another; taking care to fall in love with her beforehand。 
In  the  kitchen;  Hayriye  sat  Esther  in  a  corner  and  handed  her  a  glass  of 
rosewater  sherbet;  as  she  gave  me  a  guilty  look。  I  realized  that  since  Hayriye 
had  bee  my  father’s  mistress;  she  might  be  reporting  to  him  everything 
she sees。 I’m afraid that this may indeed be the case。 
“My  black…eyed  girl;  my  dark…fortuned  beauty;  my  stunning  beauty  of 
beauties; I was delayed because Nesim; my pig of a husband; kept me occupied 
with  all  sorts  of  nonsense;”  said  Esther。  “You  have  no  husband  senselessly 
haranguing you; and I hope you know the value of this。” 
She took out the letters; I snatched them from her hand。 Hayriye withdrew 
to a corner where she wouldn’t be in the way; but could still hear everything 
that  passed  between  us。  So  Esther  wouldn’t  be  able  to  see  my  expression;  I 
turned my back on her and read Black’s letter first。 When I thought about the 
house  of  the  Hanged  Jew;  I  shuddered  for  a  moment。  “Don’t  be  afraid; 
Shekure; you can manage in any situation;” I said to myself and began reading 
Hasan’s letter。 He was on the verge of madness: 
 
Shekure; I’m burning with des

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