437
I; SHEKURE
Black had hidden us away in the house of a distant relative; where I spent a
sleepless night。 In the bed where I curled up with Hayriye and the children; I
was occasionally able to nod off amid the sounds of snoring and coughing; but
in my restless dreams; I saw strange creatures and women whose arms and legs
had been severed and randomly reattached; they wouldn’t stop chasing me
and continually woke me。 Toward morning; the cold roused me and I covered
Shevket and Orhan; embracing them; kissing their heads and begging Allah for
pleasant dreams; such as I’d enjoyed during the blissful days when I slept in
peace under my late father’s roof。
I couldn’t sleep; however。 After the morning prayers; looking out on the
street through the shutters of the window in the small; dark room; I saw what
I’d always seen in my happy dreams: A ghostly man; exhausted from warring
and the wounds he’d received; brandishing a stick as if it were a sword;
longingly approach me with familiar steps。 In my dream; whenever I was on
the verge of embracing this man; I’d awake in tears。 When I saw the man in
the street was Black; the scream that would never leave my throat in dreams
sounded。
I ran and opened the door。
His face was swollen and bruised purple from fighting。 His nose was
mangled and covered in blood。 He had a large gash from his shoulder to his
neck。 His shirt had turned bright red from the blood。 Like the husband of my
dreams; Black smiled at me faintly because he had; in the end; successfully
returned。
“Get inside;” I said。
“Call for the children;” he said。 “We’re going home。”
“You’re in no condition to return home。”
“There’s no reason to fear him anymore;” he said。 “The murderer is Velijan
Effendi; the Persian。”
“Olive…” I said。 “Did you kill that miserable rogue?”
“He’s fled to India on the ship that departed from Galleon Harbor;” he said
and avoided my eyes; knowing that he hadn’t properly acplished his task。