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Should I ditch the bags? Ditch ’em, get rid of ’em, then plead your case before that asshole Teoman. Right! “You know how much that shit’s worth, huh?” “Of course, boss.” Fucking heartless dwarf! No way you can explain. The man won’t listen. Better to risk it.

I nearly stumble. Not far now. The lights over on that side are out. What luck! And right at the breakwater too. C’mon, Tufan! Run. Keep it up, boy. Dude, if you go and fill up a shore with sand, then you doll it up with some fucking fast growing trees! That’s what you’re supposed to do. Damn city... Now I’m just a sitting duck. It’s all in the legs. My lungs are gonna explode. I can’t breathe.

The third warning came just a few steps from his destination.

I don’t know how, but I feel it; these guys don’t give a shit about the law; they’re not gonna just fire into the air. Fucking rookies! Into the air, dudes, into the air!

A shot rings out. He thrusts himself between two high-speed boats docked inside the breakwater. Man, that hurt. Knee, elbow, pain from head to toe. But don’t move. This place is dark enough. Maybe they won’t see you.

He waited, his breath bated. He didn’t budge. The pain, it would pass. It was all about not getting caught. Actually, it wasn’t so much about not getting caught as it was about not getting caught right now. Because tomorrow is Sunday. And that means Yeliz is coming over. The girl’s only got one day off a week as it is, and I can’t spend that day in custody. Keep it up, just a little longer. I’m wearing black, and I’m surrounded by darkness. And there’s no moon. Lie down flat. Hide your face, don’t let it shine. Maybe they won’t see you. They might think you’ve escaped.

Damn it, quit prancing around! Fuck off already! Go look for me somewhere else!

Wait! Best to crawl between the boats. I learned this crawling thing back in the military. Don’t raise your ass; keep your knees to the ground, go easy on the cartilage. On your knees, that’s right. Just like they got you doing in civilian life too. Well, damned if I can’t crawl with the best of ’em. Oh yeah, that’s it. Slowly. Right there, between the boats.

Tufan, a dealer on Baghdad Avenue, slithered his way between two canvas-clad boats, and continued on all fours.

Just a little further. That’s it, right there. There are more than twenty boats here. And it’s dark. They’ll never find you. Ha! They’re not even coming. Stupid rookies. Wait a minute. Let me just stick my head out here a bit. Aha. They’re gone. Idiots! Wait, maybe they’ve gone down below?

He leaned over and looked down at the concrete path along the coast. All clear. Well fuck me! Those guys really are rookies. Man, it’s not like I disappeared into thin air, the least you could do is come down and take a look.

I can’t believe it! I lost them! The suckers are gone. Yes! Tufan, my man, just wait a little bit, and then go home and reward yourself. You deserve it. Seems I ain’t such a bad sprinter after all!

What? Wait a second. What’s that? Hold on, there’s someone there. Over there, way at the end of the breakwater. Holy shit! They’re not gone after all.

Tufan quickly crouched back down, his heart racing once again.

How did I miss them? They must have slipped by me, hurried all the way down there. Impossible, but... Wait a second.

He held his breath, poked his head out, slowly.

There were two of them. But this guy’s alone. And he’s just sitting there. What the...? At this hour? Maybe he’s one of those winos. Or some guy with the blues, got himself a bottle of wine, swinging his legs over the sea. Maybe he’s about to drown himself. Maybe he’s trying to decide, right now. But then that’s everyone’s predicament in this country, right? Sucked the life out of every damn one of us. Wait! Maybe he’s got some money on him. A swift kick to the head, take the money, and run. Better than showing up at Teoman’s empty-handed.

Still doubled over, he slipped out of his hiding place and started weaving his way through the boats. He’d forgotten all about the fuzz; his hand went to his pocket and he pulled out his switchblade.

He approached the man in complete silence, deftly, carefully, but then, just as he was about to assume his position, the man turned his head.

And Tufan, there before a face he recognized even in the dim light of a distant lamp, did not know where to hide his knife.

“Ekber Amca?

The old man squinted at him. His eyes searched the face of the younger man, who swiftly moved to conceal his weapon behind his back. Ekber Amca’s eyes, wrinkled around the edges, sparkled at finally having found what he was looking for, and a smile immediately spread across his face.

“Tufan?”

“Amca, what are you doing here at this hour?”

“I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

Instead of answering, the old man motioned for Tufan to sit next to him. Come, sit down. Don’t stand there, I don’t know how long we’ll be waiting. Tufan looked at him, puzzled.

“Come,” the old man said. “Don’t be afraid, they can’t see you anymore.”

“Who?”

“Weren’t you just running from the police?”

Tufan continued to stare at him with uncomprehending eyes.

“Just come here and sit down. It’s good that you’ve come. We can have a chat.”

Tufan didn’t know what to say. It was their downstairs neighbor, Ekber Amca.

Oh man, Ekber Amca was on my case all the time when I was a kid! Don’t play in the garden, watch out for the flowers, don’t pick the plums until they’re ripe... He’d yell at me all day, and go tattle to my daddy at night. Got plenty of ass kickings thanks to you, huh, Ekber Amca? But then, can’t really blame you much. You don’t really get it when you’re a kid though, do you? Your wife had passed away, your kids had grown up to be useless ingrates, and nobody ever called on you anymore. You were screwed, nothing left, nothing but your house. Loneliness. I didn’t understand it at the time, of course. Crotchety old man just looking for somebody to yell at, that’s what I thought. My mom, may she rest in peace, she stayed out of it most of the time, but my dad, he’d beat the crap out of me, just ’cause I’d ruffled your feathers. Probably because he was sick of your nagging. My dad was a crank anyways, had no tolerance for me getting on anybody’s nerves. A call from the principal’s office, and whap. Someone in the neighborhood ratted on me and it was, “Come here, boy!” Ekber Amca, man, you know what, you were the freaking bane of my existence; you still like that now or what, you son of a—? I was a kid, man, how could I know what you were up against?

“Of course, how could you?” said the old man, his eyes still fixed on the horizon, which was covered in a sheet of darkness, pierced only by the lights of the Princes’ Islands. “You were a child.”

Ah fuck! Is this guy reading my mind?

“Of course I am. What’s wrong with that?”

Fine, then read this!

“Shame on you, Tufan. All grown up, but still the same old good-for-nothing punk.”

What the hell do you know about what I am?

“I know you got mixed up in drugs and whatnot, dropped out of college, and made a royal mess of your life. And I know that you deal out on the avenue. That enough for you?”

Oh, c’mon! Man, what’s going on here? Is this some kind of dream or something?

“Dream...” The old man peered intently at Tufan. “A dream, of course. What did you think it was? I’m sitting here at the breakwater, by myself, at some ungodly hour. It’s dark out. I’m alone. You run away from the police and come here. Yep, a dream. All of it. Life, etcetera. It’s all one big dream... What? ‘Cheap-ass philosophy,’ you say? Now look here, you little twerp!”