Suddenly Kâzım’s hands shot up to his face as he burst into tears. Ziya was already distraught beyond words, and now, as he looked at Kâzım, he had no idea what to do.
‘I felt such shame,’ Kâzım said as he blew his nose, ‘I couldn’t even go to Kenan’s funeral. I spent that day pacing up and down this courtyard like a mad cow.’
‘If only none of this had ever happened,’ said Ziya in a mournful voice.
Then he stood up and made his excuses, saying he was feeling ill. Kâzım stood up with him. After blowing his nose again, he wiped the tears off his cheek with the back of his hand.
‘Are you going to stay here in this village?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ Ziya said. ‘In fact, I have to stay. How could I ever leave, if it meant leaving Kenan’s mother in the lurch, not to mention his sister, and his nephew, and his uncle?’
Kâzım looked at him in anguish.
‘I’ll pay you back your money,’ said Ziya. ‘Tomorrow’s Tuesday, isn’t it? I can take the Ovaköy minibus to town and withdraw the money from the bank.’
Kâzım nodded.
The next morning Ziya woke up early and rushed down to the village meydan. Off he went to town in the Ovaköy minibus. But he did not see the forests they passed through, or the hills, or the curves, or the pure waters running under the stone bridges. He did not even see the town. Instead of waiting for the Ovaköy minibus, he rushed back in a taxi at midday. The moment he arrived back in the village, he walked underneath the nettle tree and went straight into Kâzım’s house to give him the money. This time he did not pause to knock on the door. He just turned the handle and opened the door and looked straight over at the sedir on the left-hand side of the courtyard. And there he saw Kâzım, sitting in just the same place as the day before. At the foot of the bench were two bald chickens wandering amongst their own feathers. As soon as they had greeted each other, Ziya handed him the money he’d withdrawn from the bank. Kâzım didn’t count the notes. He just put them into his pocket, looking ashamed, and took in a deep breath.
‘So you’re determined to stay here in the village,’ he said, looking straight into Ziya’s eyes.
Ziya couldn’t understand why he was asking this question for the second day in a row.
‘Look,’ said Kâzım. ‘You can count me as your elder brother. And so now I am going to ask you to listen to me. There have been terrible rumours going around the village. And they’re not the sorts of rumours that will just go away of their own accord. . No one talks of anything else in our two coffeehouses. How can I put it? From the crack of dawn till midnight, they simmer away like kettles. And they’re all about you, these rumours. . Let me put it this way. There’s no knowing where these rumours will go, or what they’ll lead to. If I were you, I wouldn’t wait until tomorrow. I’d leave this village today!’
Ziya froze in shock.
‘I don’t understand. What are these rumours about?’
‘All sorts of things,’ Kâzım said. ‘Every day it’s something different. I have no idea where they come from, or who got them started. How could Kenan have died from just a knife wound? He must have been poisoned. That’s one thing they’ve been saying. And if it was you who poisoned him, then Nefise must have been the reason. You’d had your eye on her since the day you arrived.’
‘I can’t believe this,’ said Ziya, almost talking to himself. ‘Where did all this come from?’
‘And also,’ said Kâzım, lowering his voice as he bowed his head, ‘there’s something else going around with all these rumours, but let’s leave it there. I can’t bring myself to say it.’
‘What is it?’ Ziya asked angrily.
‘No,’ said Kâzım, as his eyes slipped away. ‘I can’t tell you. But let me say this much. It has to do with Besim. With you and Besim both.’
Ziya’s head began to swim. For a time he just stared at Kâzım. He had no idea what to say, what to do. Then, very slowly, he stood up. Passing between the two bald chickens, he headed for the door. Once outside, he walked towards the meydan, but he did not hear any voices coming from the houses or the courtyards, nor did he see anyone he passed. His mind was fixed on the things Kâzım had told him. The more he thought about them, the faster his feet went. It was those fast feet of his that got him back to the barn so suddenly that day. And as soon as he got there, he plopped himself down on the bench and stared in despair at that shadow on the mountaintop, until night fell.
Remembering that it was time to take Uncle Cevval his food, he stood up and went back into the village. His plan was to go into Kenan’s house and pick up the copper tray and leave, so that he could spare Cevriye Hanım from hearing what Kâzım had told him.
But Cevriye Hanım was waiting for him in the courtyard. She was still wearing the headband on her forehead. She was looking very distant. He could almost see clouds crossing her face.
‘I came for Uncle Cevval’s food,’ Ziya said.
Cevriye Hanım looked down and swallowed.
‘There are rumours going around the village, my child. So I am going to ask you to stay away from Cevval. We’ll look after him ourselves.’
Ziya had no idea what to say. He felt almost concussed.
He had no choice but to go back to the barn after that. Collapsing on the bench, he gazed at the mountains humming in the darkness, and for hours he cried his heart out.
When he woke up the next morning, Ziya had no desire for breakfast. Without so much as a glance at the kitchen door, he walked out of the barn. The sun had just peeped over the mountaintops, and there were great dazzling rods of greenish light flowing down from that nameless shadow, down and down, flowing as far as the sheep pens on the plain. That’s why the tops of poplars lining the sheep pens were each shining like lighthouses. He stopped for a moment to look at all this, and then he went through the gap in the hedge. Turning right, he walked distracted and dishevelled towards the cemetery, which was knee deep in grass, and in the midst of all this greenery were enormous thorn bushes. And now and again, he could hear birds chirping in the branches of the almond tree, pecking at the silence, almost. Making his way slowly over the uneven ground, Ziya at last found Kenan’s grave. After looking at it for some time, he sat down next to it, putting his hand on the gravestone. What he wanted to do just then was to bare his heart, tell Kenan the whole story, from start to finish, but he didn’t do this. Instead he kept his lips sealed. After giving up on the idea of talking to Kenan, he thought about the world where his friend was now. He hoped that he’d found the peace there that this world had never given him.