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children had returned。 I grabbed my father by the ankles； and pressing them
into my armpits； I continued to descend； faster this time。 My dear father’s
head had been so crushed and was so soaked in blood that it made the sound
of a wrung…out mop as it struck each step。 At the base of the stairs； I turned
his body； which now seemed to have grown lighter； and with one great effort；
dragging him across the stone floor； I took him into the summer painting
room。 In order to see within the pitch…black room； I hastened back out to the
stove in the kitchen。 When I returned with a candle I saw how thoroughly the
room where I’d dragged my father had been pillaged。 I was dumbstruck。
Who is it； my God； which one of them？
My mind was churning。 Closing the door tightly； I left my father in the
demolished room。 I grabbed a bucket from the kitchen； and filled it with water
from the well。 I climbed the stairs； and by the light of an oil lamp； I quickly
wiped away the blood in the hallway； on the staircase and everywhere else。 I
went back upstairs to my room； removed my bloodied clothes and put on
clean clothes。 Carrying the bucket and rag； I was about to enter the room with
the blue door when I heard the courtyard gate swing open。 The evening call to
prayer had begun。 I mustered all my strength； and holding the oil lamp in my
hand； I waited for them at the top of the stairs。
“Mother； we’re back；” Orhan said。
“Hayriye！ Where have you been！” I said forcefully； but as if I were
whispering； not shouting。
“But Mother； we didn’t stay out past the evening call to prayer…” Shevket
had begun to say。
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“Quiet！ Your grandfather is ill； he’s sleeping。”
“Ill？” said Hayriye from below。 She could tell from my silence that I was
angry： “Shekure； we waited for Kosta。 After the gray mullet arrived； without
tarrying； we picked bay leaves； then I bought the dried figs and cherries for the
children。”
I had the urge to go down and admonish Hayriye in a whisper； but I was
afraid that as I was going downstairs； the oil lamp I carried would illuminate
the wet steps and the drops of blood I’d missed in my haste。 The children
noisily climbed the stairs and then removed their shoes。
“Ah…ah…ah；” I said。 Guiding them toward our bedroom； “Not that way； your
grandfather’s sleeping； don’t go in there。”
“I’m going into the room with the blue door； to be by the brazier；” Shevket
said； “not to Grandfather’s room。”
“Your grandfather fell asleep in that room；” I whispered。
But I noticed that they hesitated for a moment。 “Let’s be certain that the
evil jinns that’ve possessed your grandfather and made him sick don’t set
upon the both of you as well；” I said。 “Go to your room； now。” I grabbed both
of them by their hands and put them into the room where we slept together。
“Tell me then； what were you doing out on the streets till this hour？” “We saw
some black beggars；” said Shevket。 “Where？” I asked。 “Were they carrying
flags？” “As we were climbing the hill。 They gave Hayriye a lemon。 Hayriye gave
them some money。 They were covered in snow。” “What else？” “They were
practicing shooting arrows at a target in the square。” “In this snow？” I said。
“Mother； I’m cold；” said Shevket。 “I’m going into the room with the blue
door。” “You’re not to leave this room；” I said。 “Otherwise you’ll die。 I’ll bring
you the brazier。” “Why do you say we’re going to die？” said Shevket。 “I’m
going to tell you something；” I said； “but you’re not to tell anyone； are we
understood？” They swore not to tell。 “While you were out； a pletely white
man who’d died and lost his color came here from a faraway country and
spoke to your grandfather。 It turns out he was a jinn。” They asked me where
the jinn came from。 “From the other side of the river；” I said。 “Where our
father is？” asked Shevket。 “Yes； from there；” I said。 “The jinn came to take a
look at the pictures in your grandfather’s books。 They say that a sinner who
looks at those pictures immediately dies。”
A silence。
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“Listen； I’m going downstairs to be with Hayriye；” I said。 “I’m going to
carry the brazier in here； as well as the dinner tray。 Don’t even think of leaving
the room or you’ll die。 The jinn is still in the house。”
“Mama； Mama； don’t go；” Orhan said。
I squared myself to Shevket。 “You’re responsible for your brother；” I said。 “If
you leave the room and the jinn doesn’t get you； I’ll be the one who kills you。”
I put on the frightening expression that I made before slapping them。 “Now
pray that your ill grandfather doesn’t die。 If you’re good； God will grant you
your prayers and no one will be able to harm you。” Without giving themselves
over to it too much； they began to pray。 I went downstairs。
“Somebody knocked over the pot of orange jam；” said Hayriye。 “The cat
couldn’t have done it； not strong enough； a dog couldn’t have gotten into the
house…”
She abruptly saw the terror on my face and stopped： “What’s the matter；
then；” she said； “what happened？ Has something happened to your dear
father？”
“He’s dead。”
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