Istanbul Noir - Mustafa Ziyalan [48]
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!”
“Not swallowing it, Ekber Amca. I don’t get whatever it is you’re up to, but I’m out of here.” He started to get up, and the old man smiled again.
“Sit down. What kind of a man are you anyway? Aren’t you the least bit curious? Shouldn’t you be wondering what the hell some old man like me is doing out here like this? Sheesh.”
Tufan turned and stared at the head of the breakwater. Shit! Those guys are still here. There, over there, where I jumped into the breakwater.
“Don’t bother, son. They can’t see you.”
Tufan frowned. What do you mean?
“I mean, they can’t see you. Forget it. Now look here, I’ve got something to tell you: I think heaven’s around here, somewhere.”
“Wha—?”
“Heaven, I said. I think it’s around here somewhere.”
Tufan glanced over his shoulder again. The two plainclothes narcs who’d just been chasing after him, and who a short while before had tried to bust him as he was passing the goods to some upstart, were still standing in front of the two boats he’d slid between after jumping into the breakwater.
“What do you think?”
Tufan looked again at the man sitting next to him. Okay, so this is definitely Ekber Amca. So …
“Calm down now, son. Like I told you, they can’t see you. So now, tell me, what do you think?”
“About what?”
“Boy, would you stop looking around? They can’t see you. So?”
“So what?”
“You know, heaven.” “What freaking heaven?”
“Heaven heaven.” He motioned vaguely toward the sea. “I think it’s somewhere around here.”
“Heaven?”
“Yes.”
“Around here?”
“Yes.”
“You mean, in the sea?”
“No, son. I mean in akınbakkal.”
“Heaven? Heaven, like, paradise? In akınbakkal.”
“Yep.”
Tufan laughed. Heaven? You’ve had a little too much to drink there, have you, amca? I mean, if you’re talking about hell, okay, but Ekber Amca, if this haven of lowlifes is any kind of heaven, at best it’s a heaven for rich bastards.
“Shame on you, Tufan.”
What, you saying it ain’t true? What middle-class stiff can buy anything from those stores on the avenue? How much is the rent? But never mind that, you know how nuts they go for these worthless pills? No, of course you don’t.
“How could I know, son?”
Well, then who are you to talk? What kind of heaven could this place possibly be?
“What’s heaven like then, Tufan?”
“Shit, I don’t know … Huris, gılmans, all that stuff.”
“So, let’s start with the huris. You mean to say there aren’t any girls here? But what beauties there are on our street alone!”
“Uhh, for example … ?”
“Esra, Arif’s daughter, on the third floor?”
“Who? That slut Esra?”
The old man pursed his lips together and gave Tufan a stern look.
“What?” Tufan said. “You’re not going to tell me about Esra now, are you? Oh man, Ekber Amca … kids these days ain’t what they were back in your day, you know!”
“I know,” the old man said. He sighed, shook his head. “I know.”
Tufan felt his stomach knot up. Man, did I say something wrong?
“No, son, why do you think it’s wrong? If you say so, it is so.”
“Look here,” Tufan said, trying to cheer the old man back up. “Your whole heaven business already went belly up.”
“How’s that?”
“I mean, you’re talking about beautiful girls, and you fell flat with that first example.”
“How so? You mean Esra isn’t pretty?”
“Of course she is. She’s beautiful, but—” He paused. Man, you can’t just come up and tell him the chick puts out to