presented my hand for him to kiss。 At that moment; from somewhere not too
far away; I heard her laughter。 Was she laughing at me? I became flustered and
to remedy the situation; I grabbed Shevket and kissed him on both cheeks as
though this were what was really expected of me。 Then I smiled at my Enishte
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as though to apologize for interrupting him and to assure him that I meant no
disrespect; while carefully drawing the child near to check whether he bore his
mother’s scent。 By the time I understood that the boy had placed a crumpled
scrap of paper into my hand; he’d long since turned his back and walked some
distance toward the door。
I clutched the scrap of paper in my fist like a jewel。 And when I understood
that this was a note from Shekure; out of elation I could scarcely keep from
grinning stupidly at my Enishte。 Wasn’t this proof enough that Shekure
passionately desired me? Suddenly; I imagined us engaged in a mad frenzy of
lovemaking。 So profoundly convinced was I that this incredible event I’d
conjured was imminent that my manhood inappropriately began to rise—
there in the presence of my Enishte。 Had Shekure witnessed this? I focused
intently on what my Enishte was explaining in order to redirect my
concentration。
Much later; while my Enishte came near to show me another illustrated
plate from his book; I discreetly unfolded the note; which smelled of
honeysuckle; only to discover that she’d left it pletely blank。 I couldn’t
believe my eyes and senselessly turned the paper over and over; examining it。
“A window;” said my Enishte。 “Using perspectival techniques is like
regarding the world from a window—what is that you are holding?”
“It’s nothing; Enishte Effendi;” I said。 When he looked away; I brought the
crumpled paper to my nose and deeply inhaled its scent。
After an afternoon meal; as I did not want to use my Enishte’s chamber
pot; I excused myself and went to the outhouse in the yard。 It was bitter cold。 I
had quickly seen to my concern without freezing my buttocks too much when
I saw that Shevket had slyly and silently appeared before me; blocking my way
like a brigand。 In his hands he held his grandfather’s full and steaming
chamber pot。 He entered the outhouse after me and emptied the pot。 He