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
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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