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much。
“Hayriye； take the boys to Galleon Harbor and buy some gray mullet
suitable for soup from Kosta’s place。 Take these silver coins and with the
change from the fish； buy Orhan some dried yellow figs and cherries on the
way back。 Buy Shevket roasted chickpeas and sweetmeat sausage with walnuts。
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Walk them around to wherever they want to go until the evening prayers are
called； but be careful they don’t catch cold。”
After they’d bundled up and left； the quiet in the house pleased me。 I went
upstairs and took out the little mirror that my father…in…law had made and my
husband had given me as a gift。 I kept it hidden away between pillowcases that
smelled of lavender。 I hung it up。 If I looked at myself in the mirror from a
distance； and moved oh so delicately； I could see my whole body。 My vest of
red broadcloth suited me； but I also wanted to don my mother’s purple
blouse which had been part of her trousseau。 I took out the long pistachio…
colored robe my grandmother had embroidered with flowers； and tried it on；
but it didn’t please me。 As I was trying it on under the purple blouse； I felt a
chill； I shuddered； and the candle flame trembled with me。 Over it all； of
course； I was going to wear my fox fur–lined street robe； but at the last minute
I changed my mind； and silently crossing the hall； I removed the very long and
loose azure…colored woolen robe that my mother had given me and put it on。
Just then I heard a noise at the door and fell into a panic： Black was leaving！ I
quickly removed my mother’s old robe and put on the fur…lined red one： It
was tight around the bustline； but I liked it。 I then donned the softest and
whitest veil； lowering it over my face。
Black Effendi hadn’t left yet； of course； I’d let my apprehension deceive me。
If I go out now； I can tell my father that I went to buy fish with the children。 I
padded down the stairs like a cat。
I closed the door—click—like a ghost。 I quietly passed through the
courtyard and when I was out on the street； momentarily turned and looked
back at the house。 From behind my veil it seemed as if it wasn’t our house at
all。
There was no one in the street； not even any cats。 Flakes of snow danced in
the air。 With a shudder； I entered the abandoned garden where sunlight never
fell。 It smelled of rotten leaves； dampness and death； yet； when I entered the
house of the Hanged Jew； I felt as though I were in my own home。 They say
that jinns meet here at night； light the stove and make merry。 I was startled to
hear my footsteps in the empty house。 I waited； stock…still。 I heard a sound in
the garden； but then everything was overe by silence。 I heard a dog bark
nearby。 I recognize all the dogs in our neighborhood from their barks； but I
couldn’t place this one。
During the next silence I sensed that there was somebody else in the house
and I stood dead still so he wouldn’t hear my footsteps。 Strangers talked as
they passed on the street。 I thought of Hayriye and the children。 I hoped to
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God that they wouldn’t catch cold。 In the silence that followed； I was gradually
overe by regret。 Black wasn’t ing。 I’d made a mistake； and I ought to
return home before my pride was damaged even further。 Terrified； I imagined
that Hasan was watching me； and then I heard movement in the garden。 The
door opened。
I abruptly changed my position。 I didn’t know why I did so； but when I
stood to the left of the window through which a faint light from the garden
was filtering； I realized that Black would be able to see me； to borrow a phrase
from my father； “within the mysteries of shadow。” I covered my face with my
veil and waited； listening to his footsteps。
Black passed through the doorway and saw me； then took a few more steps
and stopped。 We stood five paces apart and beheld each other。 He looked
healthier and stronger than he’d appeared through the peephole。 There was a
silence。
“Remove your veil；” he said in a whisper。 “Please。”
“I’m married。 I’m awaiting my husband’s return。”
“Remove your veil；” he said in the same tone。 “Your husband won’t ever
e back。”
“Have you arranged to meet me here to tell me this？”
“Nay； I’ve done so to be able to see you。 I’ve been thinking of you for twelve
years。 Remove your veil； my darling； let me look at you just once。”
I removed it。 I was pleased as he silently studied my face and stared at
length into the depths of my eyes。
“Marriage and motherhood have made you even more beautiful。 And your
face has bee entirely different than what I remembered。”
“How had you remembered me？”
“With agony； because when I thought of you； I couldn’t help but think that
what I was remembering wasn’t you but a fantasy。 In our childhood； you
remember how we used to discuss Hüsrev and Shirin； who fell in love after
seeing images of each other； don’t you？ Why was it that Shirin hadn’t fallen in
love with handsome Hüsrev when first she saw his picture hanging from a tree
branch but had to see that image three times before falling in love？ You used
to say that in fairy tales everything happens thrice。 I would argue that love
ought to have blossomed when she first saw the picture。 But who could have
depicted Hüsrev realistically enough for her to fall in love with him； and
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precisely enough that she would recognize him？ We never talked about this。
Over these last twelve years； if I had such a realistic portrait of your matchless
face； perhaps I wouldn’t have suffered so。”
He said some quite lovely things in this vein； stories of looking at an
illustration and falling in love and of how he’d suffered desperately for me。 I
noticed the way he slowly approached； and his every word flitted through my
conscious mind and alighted somewhere in my memory。 Later； I would muse
over these words one by one。 But at the time my appreciation of the magic of
what he said was purely visceral and it bound me to him。 I felt guilty for
having caused him such pain for twelve years。 What a honey…tongued man！
What a good person this Black was！ Like an innocent child！ I could read all of
this from his eyes。 The fact that he loved me so much made me trust him。
We embraced。 This so pleased me that I felt no guilt。 I let myself be borne
away by sweet emotion。 I hugged him tighter。 I let him kiss me； and I kissed
him back。 And as we kissed； it was as if the entire world had entered a gentle
twilight。 I wished everybody could embrace each other the way we did。 I faintly
recalled that love was supposed to be like this。 He put his tongue into my
mouth。 I was so content with what I was doing； it was as if the whole world
were engulfed in blissful light； I could think of nothing bad。
Let me describe for you how our embrace might’ve been depicted by the
master miniaturists of Herat； if this tragic story of mine were one day recorded
in a book。 There are certain amazing illustrations that my father has shown me
wherein the thrill of the script’s flow matches the swaying of the leaves； the
wall ornamentation is echoed in the design of the border gilding and the joy
of the swallow’s matchless wings piercing the picture’s border suggests the
elation of the lovers。 Exchanging glances from afar and tormenting each other
with suggestive phrases； the lovers would be depicted so small； so far in the
distance； that for a moment it’d seem like the story wasn’t about them at all；
but had to do with the starry night； the dark trees； the exquisite palace where
they met； its courtyard and its wonderful garden whose every leaf was lovingly
and particularly rendered。 If； however； one paid very close attention to the
secret symmetry of the colors； which the miniaturist could only convey with
t