“All right, fine. A beautiful sea before us. What else?”
“Tufan, you ever walk around?”
“What do you mean?”
“Here. Not on the avenue, in the streets.”
“Like, when?”
“Anytime. Spring, summer, winter, whenever. Tell me, when was the last time you took a walk though the side streets of Şaşkınbakkal? Those treelined roads, quiet, calm, so far from the chaos of the avenue, with the occasional breeze caressing your hair? It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Probably back in middle school, with your girlfriend or something? And now, ha, only when you’re running away... or when Teoman calls... By Teoman, I mean your boss. And a dwarf you say?... All right, okay, why are you getting all riled up?”
“Ekber Amca... man, this just ain’t right.”
“Why not?”
“I mean, I don’t know. This shit’s got me feeling so naked, so exposed. This, that, everything...”
“But you can read mine too.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Just try... No, son, you’re not high, you’re clean... No, no! Ha ha ha!... No way! You haven’t hit your head or anything either.”
Tufan didn’t get it. He didn’t get it, so he tried. How he tried, or how he did it, he did not know, but in no time his head was spinning from all the images, scents, tastes, sounds that filled it. He heard the leaves from the plane trees rustle in the wind in the side streets in the middle of winter. He saw children running through the alleys in the spring. He saw fourteen-year-old Ekber, in the middle of summer, drinking cognac and smoking dope with friends in the hut of the older Emin, who rented out boats on the shore, before the road had been built over it. The day he married Hilmiye Teyze, may she rest in peace. Ekber becoming a father. And then his son slamming the door shut behind him, cursing. How his daughter married a hard man who, yes, was just like him. His departure for Germany. Hilmiye’s Teyze sudden death. Pain. Loneliness. Growing old. He saw him growing weak. He felt it.
“Focus,” said the old man.
It was so easy.
I just learned how to do it myself. You came up next to me, you know, when I turned around and looked at you. And you were about to attack me. No, don’t worry, it’s okay. I’m not angry. There you go, calm down. Just like that. You understand me now?... Oh, come on, don’t get upset. The loneliness is my loneliness, it’s no fault of yours! My wife’s death, the way my son and daughter up and left... How were you to know that I had no other friends but you and those other kids out on the street? I got up early every morning and waited for you guys to go out into the garden and play — what did you think?... Oh, now, son... No, no, you didn’t get on my nerves. I couldn’t have cared less about you messing up the flowers. You get it, don’t you? The reason why I got so upset, yelled and screamed at you guys... Oh, now, son, I know, you’re lonely too. There are lots of us. C’mon now... Shhh... Don’t cry. You got used to it back in law school, so much hope, so much ambition... How proud dear Mehmet Bey was that you were going to become a lawyer. But then, well, you became a filthy drug dealer... Ohhhh, please now, son! Well looky here, so there is a special someone. Oh, but she doesn’t know, huh? That’s all right.
Tufan couldn’t stop crying. I’ve already hit thirty, Ekber Amca, and just look at me, man!
Okay, son, now just calm down. It’s all over now.
What do you mean all over? Can’t you see? I sell poison to kids! I wait for them in front of school, sell to kids as young as fucking fifteen! Everything I’ve ever stood against... Don’t you understand?
We don’t have to understand, Tufan. You don’t have to understand me, and I don’t have to understand you. Or the world, or anything else. We don’t have to understand. We’re children. All of us. His children. We don’t have to understand. It’s over now.
The old man threw his arm over Tufan’s shoulder. The latter let it all out, leaning against the old man, weeping loudly. Teoman. Beatings. Fear. Escape. Police. Drugs. Yeliz. How can I tell her? I’m screwed! I’m fed up with this shit!
“Ohh, look at that view.”
Both of them swung around.
It was a short, energetic-looking young man, standing about two meters behind them, his hands at his waist. He had curly blond hair and his eyes sparkled with joy. He was wearing a black T-shirt with Annihilator written across the chest.
Tufan instinctively leapt to his feet; he didn’t know who this guy was, but he knew his type. His hand went for the switchblade in his back pocket. At the very same moment, Ekber Bey grabbed Tufan by the leg. Hold on, son.
“Looks like you guys have been chillin’ out,” said the new arrival. “That’s good. Honestly, I can’t stand those high-strung types.” He stuck his hand in one of the pockets of his baggy hip-hop pants and removed a folded piece of paper. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He unfolded the paper, mumbling to himself as he read it. “Ekber Şen, right?” The old man nodded. “Great. And you, you must be Tufan Tokgöz.”
“And who the hell are you?” asked Tufan.
“Shhh,” said Ekber Bey. “Excuse him, your Holiness, Azrael.”
The young man let out a giggle. “No, Ekber Bey. The big boys don’t do the bookkeeping.” He took out a pen from another pocket. He looked at it, then at the paper, and then he motioned for Tufan to approach.
“So who the hell are you?”
“Who, me?” He scrunched his brows together in thought. “Oh man,” he said, finally, “you guys rule. Not many of you hotshots think to ask me my name. Hmm, what shall I call myself this time?” A smile spread across his face, he looked to the sky. “Okay. Fine. Cheese. That’s right, my name is Cheese. How’s that?”
Perplexed, Tufan looked from Ekber Bey to the young man, who was again motioning for him to come over. Tufan didn’t know why, but he was gripped by a sudden fear; his knees quaking, he walked over. From behind Cheese’s shoulder, he could see the two cops still standing by the boats. Cheese noticed the expression on Tufan’s face.
“Don’t mind them,” he said. “Now turn around for me.”
Tufan stared at him blankly.
“I said turn around... Ha ha ha! You nasty little thing, you. That’s a good one. No, that’s not what I had in mind. I’m just going to use your back to write something, if you can stand still for a minute, that’s all. All right? Now turn around.”
Tufan turned around. Cheese placed the piece of paper on the dealer’s back. He started writing. He stopped, looked at the pen, shook it up and down, and started writing again. Then he stopped again. He brought the point of the pen to his mouth and blew a few warm breaths onto it. He tried writing again. He let out a swear word. He looked over Tufan’s shoulder.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a pen on you?”
The old man shook his head.
“I’m not even going to ask you,” he said to Tufan. “Well, there’s not much to write anyway. I can just punch a couple of holes next to your names.” He shook the pen once more. “Fucking supply department...” He pressed down on the pen and punched two holes in the paper. “All right, you can turn around now.”
“What the hell’s going on?” asked Tufan. Not that he couldn’t sense it, he just wasn’t quite ready to admit it.
“What’s going on?” Cheese opened his eyes wide. “What the hell’s going on, you ask? Wait, let’s see now, what’s going on.” He moved his hand to his chin, squinted his eyes. “Hmmm. There’s going to be a car crash on the avenue in a little bit. Classic midnight drag race. I’ve got one more pickup there.” He sighed. “A father on night duty out looking for a pharmacy. Unfortunate case, that one. Just became a daddy. The punk who hits him survives though.” He sighed again. “Five minutes after that I have to go down to Kadıköy; a wino on the docks is going to have a heart attack. Now wait a second...” He looked at the paper. “That’s right, then I have to cross the Bosphorus. A whore in Beyoğlu... What?... Haaa haaa haaa! A huri? Oh, that’s a good one. I’ll have to tell the sisters about that. But anyway, then I have to go to Etiler, and so on and so forth. Ah, but if you’re asking what’s going on in the world, now that’s a tough one to answer. There are tons of officials, and they’re all fully booked.