Istanbul Noir - Mustafa Ziyalan [47]
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,