MEN DON'T CRY-3

-1991-

19
THE PAPER NEWS

‘İzmir’s businessman has given his heart to an Istanbulian high-society belle’
Just nine years later, I’ve found Nüket and also Ayhan... At a dark winter morning, I got the news for both of them. That ruddy grapevine news that I saw at the paper was exactly like this.
‘The owner of the Istanbul’s most favorite art gallery, antiquary Ayhan Zorlu is in a love affair with the Nüket Seyran, daughter of contractor Fuat Seyran...’
And a lot of bullshitting high-society gossip. The news have made me; surprised, sad, annoyed and envied in an unbelievable way. I couldn’t recognize Ayhan at the photograph at first; he seemed at least fifteen years older than me. He was very well-dressed and had grown a grayed beard. His eyes were not those warm-looking eyes of the old days; rather he’s got a jackal-like, cunning expression at his face.
Nüket was the same Nüket. She’s done her brown hair bun, worn a black night-dress. Smiling with her snow-white teeth, she was holding a wineglass at her hand. She was very, but very beautifull. I remembered how I loved her deadly; paralyzed, and couldn’t hold my tears falling down. I throwed the paper down at the floor, lounged at the couch and try to recover myself.
When I came to myself I made a cofee and thought about Nüket. I’ve followed her for some time after the end of our affair. That winter she has done the undergraduate and went to the California State University for the graduate program. For this reason, I heard nothing about her untill 1987, for five years. I knew that she didn’t keep in touch with the crowd within this period.  Recently, I’ve heard that she used to write some literature essays at some magazines, yet I’ve read some book critics of hers.
My love and loyalty towards her, haven’t ever died out, rather they have been deepened more. Her togetherness and engagement with Ayhan was a weird coincidence; at my thirty two years age, people against the most depressing two partings of my life, found each other as if no one left around, like they were spiting with me.
Furthermore, there were no such badly-ended close relations of mine with anybody. Was Ayhan enemy of mine? What have I done to him? Have I deceived him, have I harmed him, or have I gossiped after him? What have I done to him that he wanted to escape and be away from me?
I was feeling very lonely and desperate, and moreover, it was insulting for me to feel sad because of the people who’ve left me. I’ve pulled and teared off the telephone cable when it’s started to ring; I wasn’t in the mood to speak with anyone. I laid down onto the couch and killed some time in a lay between sleeping and running away from realities.
Then I took my guitar at my hand and pottered to write a song:
‘to demolish is a creative operation
‘cause you can’t build anything
without tearing the old one down...’
Its lyrics were named upon Bakunin’s manifest about his anarchist philosophy. Working on the song, I render everything together on my mind again and got stormed; I plucked the strings of the guitar and throw it away.
I thought of my six and a half years again, since I went into the business. Started from below zero, ripping with nails, I’ve tried to carve out a career for myself, dreaming to meet with Nüket someday as being a successfull person; all of my efforts was because of this. When I came to the point that I could meet her again, now I see that it was too late.
Throughout several months, I’ve wandered between life and death in a deep depression. I’ve forced myself so much that I’ve seen nightmares almost everynight untill I finished the university, and I’ve got into several no-dice affairs for some three-penny love and warmness.
Everybody’s surely knew the conditions of the country at those days. The Ozal period that Turkey transformed into the country of opportunities; those were the years of the people who knew ‘how to do’ won and the all others crawled. Though, it was unseen that the people who didn’t know well their job could earn anywhere else in the world, either... And I was very young at those days; I knew nothing much about anything, except music and the languages that I spoke.  I was also unconscious that how the things I knew could earn me money. I lived like this untill the beginning of the nineties, and now, with the maturity of my thirties, I had turned into a promising business man.
Maybe, I’ve got to tuck my head into trouble, in order not to confute the fortune-tellers’ prophecies who’ve seen terrible incidences at my future. My program was made so; by the divine powers...
You have to say; ‘what shall I be?’ instead of ‘what I am now?’ in this life.'

20
HASAN MY PARTNER

Towards the evening, when I’ve calmed down a little, and repaired the phone cable. It rang two minutes later, my partner from the office was calling. I told him that I was sick a little and couldn’t get out of the house.
We’ve met each other in 1983 summer, when we’ve gathered to play together at a pop orchestra. He used to play piano at those times. We’ve contracted to work with a splendent holiday village at the South throughout the summer season. There were the drummer and the bass player at the band, and I was playing the guitar and sing. We needed a pianist for the kind of music that we would play; so we’ve got Hasan among us, the friend of our bass player, and just after a few rehearsals he orientated easily at us.
At those years, some lousy songs like Final Countdown Comanchero, Eye of the Tiger of the cheapjack poppers were in vogue.  People loved those songs and we used to play them at every session compulsorily. Michael Jackson had left his brothers and was selling millions with his solo albums, Modern Talking, Jason Donovan and Madonna were shaking and torrefying all the world.
Hasan was a shympathetic, intelligent and talented guy. He attempted that music job for just to do a favour to us. As an engineer, he was very knowledgeable and inquisitive at electronics. We played all through that summer and talked about the electronics world. Our subjects were the transmitters, receivers, multi-channel remote control systems and the computers that I also have had some enthusiasm. At eighties, IBM was spreading the personnel computers all over the world, and there were very few people and corporation in Turkey that could use them appropriately.
After we’ve finished that music biz without any accident by chance, same year’s winter, we constructed a remote controlled model boat together with Hasan. It was a very detailed but also very enjoyable struggle for us. The day after we buoyed the boat at the Yildiz Park, we thought that to be a musician in Turkey could not be the right profession for us, and decided to establish an electronics company.
We were in the dreams of producing different and good-working devices. At our small office, we began to produce electronic metronoms designed by Hasan. We were marketing them cheaper than the mechanic ones, I mean; we were producing only but not able to sell them. We’ve appreciated in a short time that it was not possible in Turkey to do serious sales by goods on consignement to the music shops, eventhough, there wasn’t any other manufacturers who produced the same devices. But we haven’t been comprehended yet that, in fact, there was not any possibility of acceptation of the market as just a local small electronics company who produces same gadgets with the Japanese electronics giants.
After the metronome defeat, we’ve worked several months on some sound amplifiers that has got equalisers on it. Although we produced classy and qualified devices, we could hardly sell only twenty pieces all through the year. Our capital had been ran out, we’d been exhausted by weariness and tenseness.  We’d invested everything at our hand, and we’d borrowed almost the same amount to the market but we were unsuccessfull at the end.  We’ve learned very well that it was not so easy to create an opportunity and earn money at the land of opportunities.
After a waste of time, towards the end of the year 1984, we finally caught a chance for the first time in our lives. When we were about to throw the towel at the electronic business, manufacturing the series of a simple product would save us. This product was something I haven’t taken serious untill then, eventhough Hasan has offered to do several times but not forced enough.
We had used some electronic kits for the assemblance of our model boat’s radio equipment that has ready printed circuit and soldering plan, which Hasan has  called up from Belgium. Those kits were kind of products that demanded by the enthusiastic followers, the hobbyists and students. You could easily manufacture almost all kind of electronic device; from the transmitter to the radio, from the digital clock to the sound amplifier, from the voltmeter to the disco lights, just using a soldering iron.
We managed to achieve six different kind of electronic kits to the market with our remaining pennies. One of our products was Hasan’s design of FM Transmitter. According to the law that was valid at that time, it was not possible to use any transmitters at any frequency band even for the amateur reasons. The law number who-knows-what that validated at the second world war years, which was circulated to prevent spying, was saying like that...
The Wireless Law was left cold for us. We were so much desperate that we were ready to do not only FM Transmitter but even cloak and dagger to earn money. We’ve planned to visit all of the electronic equipment shops one by one. Hasan was responsible for the manufacturing and I was shouldered the part of the business that can only be realized by miracle; I was going to persuade the shops to purchase a product that wasn’t known in Turkey and that it was very hard to explain the specifications of it, and make them sell to their customers.
I wasn’t able to market anything so far that day, and furthermore, the most sellable product of ours, FM Transmitter Kit was an illegal thing. Our first trials were real black humour.  It was not possible; the shop keepers not even listened to me at all.  There were times of situations that I even could be beaten. I swear to God that, everybody in my place, would give up and quit the job at that moment but I just couldn’t. I haven’t got any option; I had to find different ways and keep going on.
We borrowed some more money from my uncle and we have made chrome-pod stands to put into the shops. We have mounted brass hangers on those glamorous yellow coloured stands that the kit sets would be hanged on. The basic element of the business world was that at the moment; eyewashing, advertising, and marketing by showing one a hundred... You have to become a kind of illusionist in order to sell a good.
And we’ve become at last...
We’ve shot the mounted products and printed full-coloured booklets with diagrams and short briefs. I’ve talked to each single sales point candidate in all through Istanbul. We were working night and day, going into every electronic shop in Istanbul and assembling free-of-charge kit stands  to all of them.
At the end of two and a half month period that passed with a very hard trial, we became to a position that we could not produce enough goods to fulfill the orders. Young people’s began to show great interest to the electronic kits. Our FM Transmitter kit was really selling ‘absent’.  This time, I interfered to help Hasan at the manufacturing; forcing all our sources one more time we enlarged our workplace, we raised the number of personnel to five.
Eventhough I was educated at the business administration, untill that time, I haven’t learned neither book-keeping of current accounts nor cheque-bond-bank transactions. But eventhough we were just two runny-nosed businessman candidates, suddenly we became the only manufacturer and distributer of a unique product in Turkey.
Two months after we put the manufacturing process in order, we filled our car baggage with the products that we’ve increased the item number to twelve and went to a tour to Anatolia. We were doing the same things that we’ve done in Istanbul at the other places; all through days, without sleep, wandering from town to town we introduced our kits to the electronic equipment shops. To establish a connection at Anatolia was easier according to Istanbul. The local trademen were used to welcome a seller who’ve come to his feet from Istanbul warmly, and if you are the owner of the company it was even better.
We’ve made contracts with the distributers at Ankara, Konya, Kayseri, Izmir and Adana which would become the castles of the company later on. At the beginning, I was very strained to speak with the countryman at the same table... It wasn’t because I’ve disdained them or something, but just for we were not speaking the same language. For this reason, I lived a period of difficulty in communications. But then, I got used to do it as well...
Within two years, our sales figures have come to ten times of the numbers we’ve been expecting when we start.  We were making good money. We’ve renewed our office, and hired secretary, driver, accountant, and collection personnel. We’ve purchased new machines for the workshop that we’ve enlargened, we began to show great importance to the product quality and advertisement. 1987 was a very successfull year; we haven’t even dreamt that the rises at the figures of sales and profits that much. We were trying to develop our business and establish a nice and comfortable life for ourselves.
At the small companies in Turkey, to keep the partnerships go on was harder than to keep going on the marriages. Even the smallest conflict for the benefits, would take the partners to a separation point; our business world was filling up with tiny little companies that’s multiplied just like amoebas. We were not at the scale to divide yet; we had to be logical. For this reason, when the disagreements among us grew and the business became tasteless, we sat to the table with Hasan and we agreed upon a company constitution which we would exercise through four years.
When we took up all those decisions and made the company reared up, at that year, we planned to do our military obligations one by one. I’ve done my eight month military service, in the right time, at the Airforce troop in Kutahya, the company hasn’t affected by any harm through my absence.  After I completed the military adventure, Hasan has become responsible only for the research and developing of the new product designs.  Except those, all the authority and control of the menagerial and financial activities were belonged to me.
A little later on, I’ve turned into a real businessman; I have ability to instantly realize the decisions we’ve taken and the projects that we’ve known for sure to success. It passed another year with a smartly followed strategy, we had an electronic club that has more than two thousand members countrywise. We’ve taken over the service of a liquidated radio amateurs’ magazine and grew it. Dealing with the problems of the amateurs and selling them kits by postal service; we were also publishing a monthly bulletin where we’ve solved the technical problems of our kit buyers at our ‘Dr. Kit’ corner.
We’ve found an interesting method of competition for the rivals that used to spring up at the market. We used to be manufacturing and selling the cheaper alternative products. In other words, we were doing our own imitations. Anyhow, our first brand ‘Process’ was the first in the market share; it esteemed a great liability.
There was saved a pretty good money at my bank account, but I have had no luxuries other than a new model car. And I was living in a nicely decorated rental house; as I could not behave like Hasan, I just could not be able to buy a house. Saying that ‘I can pay it someway’, he used to buy real estates, and use bank loans for even the car he renewed every year as well. The business was somehow going on; the mill wheels would rotate as long as the water flows.
The most important thing was the continuity of the water.

21
THE ART GALLERY

While I was working on reducing the stress in my business life and planning to live more comfortable, I’d have read that paper news.  And now I was feeling that I’ve come to a junction; my new decisions were requiring a new way of life.
The day after I read that news, I felt myself a stranger at my own office. Gathering my mind together, I ruminated what to do. First I have to find the clues, and then I would evaluate them; I would intrude at Ayhan and Nüket’s world, and learn what kind of life they were living.  I had to learn all of these, because I was wondering; how all these happened to be happen?
Another important answer that I wanted to know was the secret of the power of people who were more successfull than me. What was I misdoing? How did the people used to get the money and the power that rendered them to be rich and famous?
It happened to be easy to find the address and the phone number of Ayhan at Istanbul. I’ve made my secretary call the graduate association of Izmir Bornova College.  We did as we were calling from Istanbul association of the school that Ayhan and I attended together; we’ve got his address and phone number.
His home was at Levent. In the afternoon, I got out from the office and went to his address. Situated at a good place close to the main avenue and with a carpark of its own, his appartment was at a nice and new building. I just couldn’t help myself to go in and I got through the elevator to ascend to his appartment at the fourth floor. His name was not written on the bell. Then I descented back and I strolled at the same street for the rentals. Noted some of the real-estate agencies from the signboards hanged on some of the windows and I visited them.
I found a small appartment at the same street facing Ayhan’s and moved to there within two weeks. It came up to my birthday; the evening that I established my house and do it cleaned, on the twelfth of February, I organized a small celebration to my girlfriend with Hasan and his wife. Cooked some wonderfull courses for them with my own hands, I opened up some chinwags, funny topics and we did a lot of chattering; so they didn’t ask me why I’ve changed my flat.
The first Saturday following paper news, I visited Ayhan’s art gallery and browsed around the painting exhibition. Sire wasn’t there. An Izmirian painter, there was the personal exhibition of Muharrem Durmaz. I was impressed by the design of the gallery and the beauty of its atmosphere. I liked the paintings too; bought one of them. I gave my card to that sweet manageress to send the painting to my office address. For the payment, I drew a cheque from my personal account. I’ve done that dealing to send Ayhan a message; ‘I’m very close to you.’
I didn’t know whether if he has noticed that I bought a painting from his gallery, but I just couldn’t get any feed-back to this message for a long time. After some time since I moved to my new flat, I began to watch Ayhan’s appartment in the evenings. His curtains were closed mostly. From time to time, I was phoning to Ayhan’s office and home some silent calls. He wasn’t answering the calls at his office but I’ve heard his voice twice at his home, I was excited in a strange way and didn’t talk a word. Sometimes, when I saw some shadows of whom I couldn’t recognize inside the house I was calling Nüket from her family home and try to control her as well.
At those days Hasan was developing new FM transmitters. A version of the little capsule that we were going to release with the name of ‘Micro FM transmitter’ was capable of  doing a very clear broadcasting with a tiny little button battery. But its range was short; it was possible to get the signal from a distance of three-hundred feet at most, only with a strong receiver that’s tuned onto the same frequency.
I demanded from him to make a special application of that transmitter; telling him that I want to listen somebody’s lines. First he mocked with me, then worried and asked to whom I’d listen. I didn’t give any names, of course. I repeated at him that it was important for me and that I was expecting from him to find a perfect application immediately for me. I knew that he would do the best if he wanted.  After I seemed to follow to his warnings that it was a serious crime to listen secretly the other people’s telephones, I made him to roll up his sleeves at last.
Within a week, my micro FM was ready. Hasan has prepared an incredible circuit.
-Look, this tiny black cube is our transmitter...
Really, it was a ‘thing’ of  two sugar cube size, covered with black polyester.
-Its battery changes from here, back of it. Its antenna is just a drawn-on-circuitboard bobbine. I didn’t leave the way like that, so; I put a servo controlled miniature FM receiver near it, to prevent wasting battery power.
I was listening with great excitement; he was explaining everything with care and by showing.
-It means that, with another transmitter that you put into your house, you will be able to open and close the circuit whenever you want. Got it?
-This is wonderfull. But how shall we install it to the telephone line?
-Stop that, boy, not finished yet. Of course, I’ve thought about that as well, look...
There were two teeth at the left side of the black cube.
-The internal phone lines at the buildings’ telephone boxes are connected to the main circuit by tiny sockets. Its more than enough to strike these teeth to the socket that the cable is connected. Thus you have a parallell linkage. I poured polyester onto it; no one can understand what it is, as you see; it has a appearance that doesn’t attract any attention. When continously turned on its battery lasts for three-four days, but if you use it two hours a day, then it husbands you nearly four to five weeks.
I was rejoiced and excited. I tried to understand how I would control the receiver that will open and close the transmitter. Hasan told me that it was very simple; the big permanent transmitter will be supplied by the wall-plug at home and controlled with its only one switch on it. He wanted to show me the device by testing it on one of our company’s phone lines; I told him that its unnecessary, I knew that it would work perfectly.
I called one of the most skilly technicians of our workshop to my office with his service toolbox. Told him the address and the installation that he’d do. I would award him when the mission was perfectly done. He would tell the doorman that he’s come from the Turkish Telecom for a breakdown application, and then he would detect that line in the box to put the tranceiver there as I described.
The job was finished in two hours.
With great eagerness, I tried to finalize what Hasan told me when I turned back home early in the evening.  Turned on the device with my own transmitter, dialed Ayhan, and from the radio of my music set, I came to a hundred and two megahertz, that was the wavelength of the micro FM transmitter. I was hearing the ringing signal of Ayhan’s phone. I made a connection from the radio to the casette-deck in order to record the telephone conversations, and prepared empty audio tapes.
Then I waited the evening to come.  I’ve just haven’t think what I was following.  I didn’t know it, either. Wasn’t life something like this; no one would know with what he’ll come across tomorrow. Of course, I didn’t know it, but I was deeply feeling that I would learn interesting things about Ayhan and Nüket.
Around seven o’clock, I saw Ayhan walking to his home from the carpark of the building. Behind the curtains, I’ve noticed that the white Peugeot which entered the carpark of the building was his car. Within a few minutes, the lights of the hall has turned on. Immediately I worked on the transmitter and put the first cassette to the tape recorder. Suddenly my phone rang. My lights were off; I was excited as if something important had happened, I answered it with stummer. It was my girlfriend who was calling, she asked me where I was. My mind was at somewhere else, I told her to call later. Suspicious of that there was another woman with me, she didn’t want to shut off. She insisted to come over to me, so I’ve had to get rid of her breaking her heart.
After an half hour he entered home, Ayhan lifted the handset and dialed a number. Pressed on the record button, I was expecting that he would call Nüket, but another woman’s voice answered in place of her.
-Good evening?
-I’m calling for Murat Bey, this is Ayhan Zorlu.
-Just a second please, I’m connecting you...
-The internal phone rang. The owner of the bank, well-known businessman Mr. Murat S. was on the line.
-Good evening Murat Bey, this is Ayhan Zorlu, how do you do?
-Thank you Ayhan Bey, I called from the gallery today but I couldn’t reach you.
-I know, I’ve got your note. I was out, couldn’t turn back to office,  only be able to call you at this hour from my home.
-No problem. Have you been able to arrange the paintings?
-I’ve send all four of them to your bank, together with the waybills.
-Well done, the invoices would be coming next week, wouldn’t they?
-I’m trying to arrange the receipts, as soon as manage, I’ll send them to you.
-The total was eighty-five thousand, wasn’t it?
-Yes, it will be invoiced to the bank from eighty-five and you’ll pay fourty-five. You’ll receive the pay-slip the same amount as the total invoice. I’ll be glad if you do the payment on the next Friday.
-Of course, I’m giving the instruction right now.
-Thank you very much. I wish you a nice evening and hoping to see you again.
Everybody’s knowing that the banks were collecting artpieces, but I couldn’t resolve what this invoice thing meant. The figures were astronomic. They were talking in US dollars. Just because of the indistinctness of the Turkish lira due to the chronic inflation, the business were to be done by dollars at the markets; we’ve changed into a  banana republic.
Ayhan dialed Art Nouvelle as soon as he closed the phone.
-Good evening, Art Nouvelle?
-Nergis, its me, will you connect Fatoş Hanim to me?
-Fatoş Hanim is out, Ayhan Bey. Selim Bey is here, do you want to speak to him?
Who he called Fatoş was that coquettish blond who’s sold me that Muharrem Durmaz painting. Ayhan began to speak to the manager called Selim.
-Did Fatoş make Ibrahim sign the receipts?
-No. Hamdi Bey signed but Ibrahim Bey did not.  I guess, he said; ‘the figure is very high, I won’t sign it.’
Ayhan turned into a monster and roared at the guy.
-What the hell is that got to be, huh?!  Don’t you talk with that guys before you open exhibitions?! Whenever he speaks to you a thing like that, don’t you tell that it doesn’t make a change for him and that we’re paying all the tax of it, for God’s sake?!
-I am telling, Ayhan Bey, but Fatoş Hanim couldn’t persuade him in anyway. The man says that; ‘I’m selling a painting for two thousand dollars and you make me sign a paybill for eighteen. What if my head gets into troub-...’
-Look here!... Don’t never ever talk like that by giving figures!!... Tomorrow I’ll finish that thing by myself...
-I beg your pardon sir, but there’s no one near me and I-...
He kept on talking ragingly by stuffing the words to Selim’s mouth.
-Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear those words again!... I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.
-U-understood sir, good evening.
My, my... I was awakened to what Ayhan was doing now. As I was quite unfamiliar with that topic, I still couldn’t understand some points yet. I rewinded the cassette tape and listened to it once again.  Meanwhile, for a new probable telephone conversation, I prepared another empty tape, pouring a glass of whisky to myself, and lit a cigarette.
Great Banker Mr. Murat S. was managing that dirty deal personally by himself. What for? Were these subjects so important? I’ve read from the newspapers that Kreditbank has got a collection of hundreds of paintings. Wherever an auction was, and at which gallery an exhibition was, Murat S. was there... There were expensive paintings hanged even at the toilettes of the bank. Four paintings happened to be invoiced to eighty-five thousand, accordingly, each was nearly twenty. If Kreditbank buys two hundred paintings a year, it would be a sum of four millions. Four million dollars; only that bank’s buy within a year... The bank used to pay just the half of the invoice in fact, the artist’s share was deducted from that sum, and the rest was for the gallery.
I‘ve got through the matter; the banks were shooting several birds with a stone.  Decorize your branches with original paintings; your prestige to be higher, your image to be trustable and art-supporter, your fixed assets are to be risen to millions of dollars more, grab cheaper loans from the foreign banks as a stronger bank, pay lesser tax...  On top of it; satisfy your ‘being a collector’ pleasure and let your art stock rise to maximum range at the market with the manipulation you made.
What else’s got to be?
To be a businessman was not something like to be an trader as me. You’ve got to be real scoundrel in order to be present at the glamorous halls, show heights at the high-society, and be invited to the parties at mega yatchs.  It was such a position that a man like me; whose feeling of fairness and conscience were quite developed, whose mind do not work another thing other than to do his job, whose afraid of to give any harm to his collegues, partners and customers, and afraid to be in trouble with the state institutions could never reach there even if he rips his ass.
Thinking that, I was flying away understanding that I have to eat fourty tons of more bread in this life. The unit price of one kit was averagely ten dollars in our business. We have to sell twenty thousand pieces in order to reach Ayhan’s sales figures. It was not possible; we’ve got to employ fifty people to produce and sell that number of goods, and this time we wouldn’t be able to earn anything.
Ayhan’s telephone rang, I tidied myself up. This time it was Nüket who called. Her talk was not full of love as I expected; she was talking about a travel they’d do together to Marseilles.
Has she talk to the man?  Has she reserved room at the hotel? 
And then they talked about the invitation that they will go tomorrow evening. Nüket and Ayhan has passed into another social class since a long time. The jet society of Istanbul would be present at the place they’ll go. My inside twisted a little with the envy that I felt.  It was a feeling that I never felt before in my life; no other people’s success has disturbed me up to today but I was envying them now; I was feeling an indefinable uneasyness inside myself, because I saw the woman who could’ve turn me into a happy guy, was there, next to Ayhan.
-Darling, now get yourself up and come to me. By the way, have those invitation cards reach you? The printman’s said that he would finish it today.
They were marrying instantly. Were these things happen to be so speedly? I’ve missed the train again; sweared at my belatedness. I’ve turned off the transmitter and quitted listening to Ayhan’s phone. Smoked a half package cigarette, and half a bottle whisky within a few hours; the ashtray was full of butts. Then I couldn’t sleep, after various attempts of reading various books and magazines, I was nearly fainted on the lounge in the dawn.
Sometimes, to learn the realities was not good for our health. What was happening when you learn? You either react and get your head into trouble, or you crush and make yourself unhappy. At the rest of my life, I decided not to perceive the realities that don’t help me anymore.
I would never want to say that I couldn’t succeeded on that, but what can I do; I just couldn’t...

22
ENCOUNTER WİTH AYHAN

I was able to go to the office hardly at noon time, horrible... I couldn’t do anything on any matter but just sat on the chair for an hour. Then I’ve called two of our vendors back; we talked about the problems of stillness at their sales. When I got bored and went to Hasan’s room, I saw him working on something at his computer.  Although I stood upon him a long while, he was so much involved to his work that he didn’t recognize me. Electrods at his head, he was looking at the waveforms on the monitor. I thought that he was working on a medical device that shoots brain tomography.
When his phone rang and leaned to the handset, he saw me, winked and said ‘connect’ to the secretary girl. He was talking with someone called Wilkins or Watkins. Excitedly shouting, they were discussing something about the brain waves. I couldn’t stand anymore.  I had a terrible headache, I gave the instructions to the secretary and turned back home.
After a bath, taking two pain reliever pills and I decided to go to Ayhan’s art gallery. I was going to meet him somehow and it should be what it would be; I didn’t have any more time to waste.
Art Nouvelle was designed really fantastically; within a three thousand square feet space, all around mezzanine of elegance which made the scene of the special lighting on the high ceilings perfect, and with the carefully chosen furniture and objects at each corner it was a place that you could rarely see even at the elite decoration magazines.
There was a mixed activity this time.  At the avenue facade part of the hall, there were those sculpters in the form of human bodies were exhibited. I’ve viewed them for a long time.  Then, Fatoş came to look after me, offered me coffee. She told me about the artists of the mixed exhibition, and gave information about their works. I told her that I wanted to buy a sculpture this time.
Just we were talking about one of the sculptures, I noticed that someone’s standing right behind. Without turning back I felt that it’s Ayhan. When I returned, we came eye to eye, there wasn’t any change of expression on his face but I was very excited; saliva in my mouth suddenly dried out.
If I haven’t seen his picture at the newspaper, I would never recognize him. Relying upon that, I was thinking to do as if I was not to identifed him, but he came towards me, smiled and hugged me. I heard that he whispered in my ear: ‘my pal, my old friend...’  He pulled my arm and took me to his office upstairs, I wasn’t expecting such a greeting from him, to speak honestly.
-I’ve felt that I’ll see you here today, he said.
He was aware of that painting I bought; he knew that I would come.
-Is this place belongs you? I asked fakely.
He told me that he was doing this business since six years. He’s got two art galleries at Izmir and Istanbul and an auction company.  He asked about me; I told him something coarsly about the business we did. There was so many things to tell...
After a few minutes, there was a telephone rain to Ayhan. When he finished the fourth call, I thought that I might be disturbing him, and stood up to go.
-I rather go. Years ago, we’ve sworn that we would never meet again actually...
I’ve noticed that it was a stupidly formed sentence, and I held out my hand to bid him adieu.
-Good bye, pal.
-Now I’m gonna beat you down!...
He slapped at my hand I’ve held out. Stood up, grabbed my arm and made me sit back on the chair again.
-We were just little kids then, you bastard. After seventeen years we’ve met each other here, and just look at what you’re shitting...
Now he began to look like the real Ayhan.
-What can I do boy; you’re talking for business since two hours,and I don’t want to bother you at your office. Let me choose a sculpture down and go, then we can come together at a convenience, we’ll chat a little.
Smiling, he looked at me.
-Was your problem a sculpture? Go down and choose whatever you like.  Don’t ever dare to pay any money.  And then go near Fatoş’s place and wait for me there.
I just didn’t know what to say.
-Look Ayhan, you just can’t-...
He stuffed my words in my mouth.
-Just do what I’m saying!...
He got me off from his office by manhandling, turned back and started counting to his secretary the names of the person he would like to talk to. He also gave the instruction for the sculpture; yet I wasn’t in the situation to choose any sculpture, not even to stay standing. I had an undescribeable excitement inside and a shittiness which was mixture of rejoice and sorrow. Sat down to the chair in front of the Fatos’s office desk. We were talking but I was not knowing what I was talking. My mind was with Nüket; what would happen if she also comes to the place that we’ll go?
I was feeling completely messed up and very tired. I wasn’t even sure that my mind was working healthily. For a second, I thought to stand up and return home without seeing Ayhan, then I couldn’t make a decision for that, too. After another cup of tea Ayhan came nearby us.  He asked Fatoş some questions about the business, then, pointing me, he told her that I’m his oldest and best friend.
We stood up and got out. We entered to an elegant cafe-bar at Nisantasi, a little up on the avenue. We chattered for two hours. It was not easy to tell all that seventeen years to each other; we could talk by days, however, I easily understood that Ayhan did not even want to touch at that black night where we stopped behind it years ago.  He told me that he was going to go to Izmir and after stayin there for four days, he would be in Istanbul back to do the preparations for the wedding. Ohh, he’s forgotten to tell me really, he was about to get married; and how elite and intelligent his intended wife was, I just coldn’t imagine...
My stomach began to ache. I told him that I had an appointment and got to go home. That marriage subject was causing a strange sickness in me.  We came to an agreement to keep that friendship that we’ve reestablished years after, from now on.
-When you were a kid, you always used to tell that you wanted to deal with art. Look at that; I am in the art world now and you are out of it.
I told him that I still have the feeling of art inside, I was burning with the desire to be an artist, but I just couldn’t yet able to get to the economic level to do that. Ayhan touched my cheek within a fatherly manner. He seemed sincere.
-I’m going to give you the opportunity to do a job that you wanted to do. We’ll work together.
-Thanks a lot, pal, I told him as a reply. You don’t have to worry about me, you know that I’ll be happy to work with you even if we don’t do anything, and you’re still my best friend and you’ll always stay that way; even if we work together or not...
At the end of that very sentimental tirade I wanted to pay the bill, he didn’t allow me. I stood up. We kissed each other and exchanged our business cards. Ayhan wrote his home number to the back of his card, then he asked my private number and noted it.
-Let me stay a little more, drink another whisky, then I have to go back to work, he said. I’ll call you when I come back from Izmir; to give you the wedding invitation...
When I returned home, I really was in some weird thoughts; there was a strangeness at Ayhan that I couldn’t define properly. At his photograph, I’ve found him aged more than it has to be, but when I saw him alive, some other things come to my mind. His body posture was strange; he was a whale of a fellow since he was a kid, but now, his six feet two stature was bended forth like he was constantly in pain, and as if he was hardly moving.
When he was a fourteen years old kid, he had a smooth clean-cut skin full of health. But now, even at his darkened room where the curtains are closed, it was noticeable that his face was full of stains and acnes. A guy’s pimples used to crop out at his puberty period, as far as I knew, if not then, was it possible to be at his thirties?
I thought about that night again. Starting from my recovering, our crawling at the streets, getting on to the ferry and all the impressions and all the details of the conversations we had, by forcing my memory upto its limits, I reckoned again. I rethought every goddamned word again and again, I tried to explain the meaning of every gesture of Ayhan again.
The time between my fainting and to the time that didn’t know what happened afterwards was only about twenty-five minutes. When I came to myself, I have checked every part of my body that ached and pained. It was definite that I haven’t been raped by that perverse; I’ve searched and learned soon after that, even if I was unconscious, I should have been carrying the tracks of the assault.
Couldn’t I notice if something like that happened to Ayhan? I rethought that as well; I couldn’t know. And what has happened to the man? What has been occured between Ayhan and that disgusting pervert and so he just has never wanted to speak that matter with me once again? After seventeen years, does that deteriorated appereance of his body and that changed personality of him has got any relation with that horrible incidence.
Once again, I just couldn’t find the answers to the questions that I look for.

23
PHONE CONVERSATIONS

At seven thirty in the evening, I just couldn’t bear the boredome and called the company; everybody was out, Hasan was working at his room. Connected the line to him, I asked how the things were going, he started to tell with excitement.
-Better come over here, partner; I’ve done a fabulous thing. You won’t believe it!...
-Can’t come there now. I’m busy, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.
The voice was cut at the phone, I was only hearing the sound of his computer’s keyboard. I shouted his name several times; but he’s forgotten me on the line. Some time later he came and shut the phone on my face. I didn’t care much; I was used to that kind of strange behaviors of him.
Then I waited at the window for Ayhan to come home... I’ve prepared the equipment. Tonight, I was not excited as before; I guess I was accustomed to be an agent. I saw the white Peugeot at the carpark, Ayhan entered into the building with running steps, and one minute later he grabbed the phone and called Nuket.
-Hi, how are you?
-Don’t ask, I dialed that man at Marseilles all day long, I was be able to reach him just an hour ago. I delivered the message and invited him to the island.
-What did he say?
Nüket explained him in a hurry.
-He told me that he was very busy nowadays, he could merely could come over here a month later. I told him that it may be too late, because the Amerikan were interested with the subject. He asked me the period of the work; when I told him that it’s the fifth century B. C., he said, ‘alright’ then.
-What’s that ‘alright’ meant?
Unreasonably, Ayhan’s got nervous.
-We’ve got to take him to Guvez and show the goods to finish this job. His ass would hit the fan, if he comes. What does that ‘alright’ means?
-How can I know, Ayhan?... You take me through that complicated business and then you bottle me up.
-You know that we hardly communicate with that guy, but still it would be better if I would have spoken to him. I gave you a deal but you smeared it to your face and your eyes.
He was really scolding Nuket. The poor girl couldn’t stand that anymore and showed him that she’s offended with a resentful voice.
-You can do it by yourself from now on. At the recent deal, you sold me to the men and then you didn’t even thank to me.
-Look at me, don’t ever talk to me like that!... And just don’t ever make me mad on you, got it?!
What kind of a jerk has that Ayhan had become? In a strange way, Nüket has turned inta a milk-spilled kitten when she heard those words.
-Alright, alright... At what time do we go out in the evening?
-Let me speak to that guy once more, then I’ll bath and get dressed. What’s the time now? Ten to eight. I’ll take you there at quarter pass nine.
-Alright. See you...
When the phone closed I didn’t turned off the transmitter, the tape was also running. I thought that Ayhan will call Marseilles, he did not.  The A side of the tape finished, when I did a sandwich to myself and turned the B side, Ayhan’s phone rang.
One of his men from Izmir was calling, he was talking about that they’ve installed the equipments to his house on an island at a place called Guvez. The work of the raft that they constructed was also about to finish. Yet I wasn’t be able to digest the information that I learned yesterday, what would these weird talks mean? Ayhan has an island at the Aegean Sea; it wasn’t a summerhouse or something, boy, he just bought an island!... Heyy, what kind of an earning money is it?...  What kind of a whealthiness, what a thing; I just didn’t want not belive my ears...
I couldn’t do the connection of this island with that man at Marseilles. Why would he come to visit that God damned island? I rather didn’t listen to the subject properly because I was affixed Ayhan’s manner towards Nuket.
I was quite surprized that how Nuket has turned into that position. She was a kind of girl who never squeeze under the authority of anybody and who didn’t need any man’s money and power. Was her character changed that much? Or was there an attraction in Ayhan that turned women into his slaves?
He dialed the Marseilles number and made another phone call that I couldn’t understand at all. The French guy, as far as I heard, was an archaeolog or antiquty expert. The English language he’s spoken was scarcely understandable. They made half an hour lasted conversation full of archeological phrases about the antique Lykia civilization at the Aegean Sea. Ayhan convinced the man to pick him up from the Dalaman Airport and host him at his house on the island. He told him that it wasn’t necessary to come with his private plane; it might attract attention. He would arrange a scheduled plane from Paris and notify it to the man’s secretary.
Who was this man, I wondered? He has got a private plane. He was dealing with antiquity, Ayhan’s wanted to do a deal with him...  I tried to predict what that connection may be, couldn’t reach to a conclusion, so I gave up. He has got to be dressed and leave out of the house.  Turned off the transmitter and on the lights.  I’ve got to do some other thing and dismantle my head a little.
There was a good film on TV. It was about a man’s meeting the outer world the fist time in his life, who didn’t ever in his life get through the garden walls of the manor house that he worked all his life through as a gardener. While the gardener was wandering foolishly at the streets of the city, FED president’s wife was crashing him by car, and taking the man to her house to cure him.  At the end, the wind of fate was taking that gardener to the presidency of FED.
I found that film interesting and realistic. I’ve made a parallell contact with the philosophy of life I defend; everything may come to one’s head anytime. The difference between my theory and the movie was that: it always used to happen good things in the gardener’s head, while mine was never breaking loose from the trouble.
Ayhan was not at home for four days from tomorrow. I was going to give up that ‘mission impossible’ thing for a while. Where would Nuket be staying while he wasn’t here? I couldn’t give a meaning why she was still staying at her family home; as she was a virgin who’ll get married traditionally, just like at the old times.
I planned to install a transmitter to her home, too, then I drawed back immediately and decided to turn back at normal life. These things weren’t useful for me, and also making me unhappier. I noticed that these shitty things were getting my wrecked physicology even worser. Just like any ordinary and happy person, I laid to my bed and slept early in the evening. When I woke up, it was passing four o’clock a little while, and those old incidents were stucked to my mind again.
I struggled around  in bed untill the morning.

24

HASAN’S PROJECT

From dawn to nine o’clock, after I tried to read some pictured light editions, took a shower to overwhelm the weariness that has dressed on me.  Following a fully breakfast, shaving and newspapers, it was eleven o’clock when I went to the office. Before stopping at Hasan’s room, I wandered everywhere in the company, checked the accounts and the sales, then I went up to the workshop.
The business was going down for some time. It was as if our fate was turned, and we have introduced to an unexpected heaviness.  Eventhough this decline has started on last year’s July, I haven’t considered about it assuming that was just seasonal. But then, the sales figures has never reached again to the level that we expected.
The figures that I noticed when I looked into the accounts were quite remarkable this time. The sales were to be decreasing continiously since five months while the expences grew with the same way as it was before. With a calculation at my head, I found out that we were not earning anything at the moment, and if this trend would keep going on next months, we would be spending from our own pockets. I was in no mood to analyze further the business and take measures about it; just shut my eyes and kept on my way.
Our  workshop was at the back street of the avenue where our offices situated. We’ve rented the second floor of this old Galata building years ago. At the eight-hundred square feet space, we were processing printed circuits which the semi-conductors’ put on and soldered. We’ve got more than fourty different kit models in our catalogue now and, to keep them seen elegant on the shelves, we even purchased an automatic vacuumed packager recently. Since three years, we started to add the off-set printed montage plans of the kits at the product packs, instead of the ones we give as b&w photocopies in the beginning. The production was going on finely, and the stocks were accumulating. There was to market value of the stock that’s not sold; it was just to be kept in our books.
I talked to one of our Anatolian vendors. I was disregarding them for some time;  nearly since six months I haven’t visited any of them except the one at Ankara. For our company, the relations with the vendors were pretty important in fact; the business in Anatolia was still working by individual friendships and oral promises instead of fancy contracts. System was esteemed onto mutual trust. Maybe that was the reason for the decline of the sales; we’ve lost their trust and support.
Hasan seemed to cut off his earthly connections completely, and worked on the project that he’s mentioned yesterday. It was lika a science-fiction novel; doing things with the brain waves etc... I couldn’t take myself from laughing when I saw him with hair and beard burried at the computer monitor.
-Hey, professor, I called to him.
He didn’t notice me for several minutes.  Then he held up his head and winked; he was meaning to say ‘What’s up?’.
-Won’t you tell me about that invention of yours?
-Not now, it will become understandable to you within a few months.
-What so? You decided to explain it to me yesterday evening...
-I gave up.
It was useless to insist. There was a pile of hundreds of leaves on his table which has been delivered from an university of Boston. I left him alone with his studies and returned to my office. I was in no mood to deal with the company things today. I didn’t tell Hasan that our business was going down; I couldn’t decide if that attitude of mine was right, either.
When I collected myself, I phoned to Art Nouvelle. Talked to Fatoş and invited her to eat in an Italian Restaurant at Nişantaşi. I was hoping that I could learn some details of Ayhan’s business at his art gallery. Fatoş was a Gemini woman that could be attracted by an Aquarius guy like me.
She acted quite sincere when she came. Joyfully we chatted and ordered our dishes. I felt like as if she was looking for a love in my eyes that she couldn’t find at anybody else...
I didn’t see any objection to respond.

25
BEFORE THE WEDDİNG

Spring was forging ahead to the early summer. The avenues had been dressed into vivid colours, the women were wandering quite spicy around. Maybe because of the necessity of her job, Fatoş was always dressed in pretty and sexy things.
-You’re very beautiful, I said to her.
She appreciated that and smiled sweetly. I asked a lot of things about her job; her duty at the gallery, the sales figures per month, how did they find customers and lots of other details... She was a chatty girl, explaining everything without any hesitation. I told her that I would like to meet her in the evenings, too. Was it possible?
-I’m married.
I acted as if I haven’t know it, she seemed to me as if she was a young and single girl; I told her with a chaffing manner that I was sorry about it.  A little shy, she smiled; it was enjoyable for her to be demanded.
-I love my husband. He’s a nice person.
Women in love would not deceive; they aren’t like the men.  There may be other reasons for a woman to not to deceive: She doesn’t used to be perceived as a ‘light o’love’ woman by her friends, and she’s afraid that her husband would leave her pennyless for her infidelity; as you know; a ‘husband’ is something rare.
After the course, I left Fatoş to the gallery and turned back to work. With hopeless efforts, I tried to find some solutions for my troubles but there was nothing creative left in me.
Ayhan could come to Istanbul just for a few hours. He’s dropped my invitation card to the gallery; they were marrying on the fourteenth of July at the Hilton’s pool-side. Eventhough I knew it, to face the realities made me sad again. My desire for Nüket was deepening day by day. Other women and all the other things that I do to fool around wouldn’t heal me to forget her.
To meet her after all these years, I was pulling the rope of the wedding night; as if, when she sees me that night, she was going to understand her mistake and say ‘no’ to the wedding registerer. I was in no mood to think logically...
Ayhan called me, three days before the wedding night.
-Hey buddy, he said.
His voice was quite sincere.
-I’m calling from Güvez. You’ve got the invitation, haven’t you?
I told him that I had it.
-I couldn’t call on you at all. I’m sorry I was very busy. Look now; I’m not forgotten that we’ll do some deals together with you. After the wedding, take your time and we’ll get over here for a few days. Nüket, you and me... You’ll meet her at the wedding, she’s so sweet. Güvez is a place at the South of Dalaman. At his shore, I bought a reef called Kafa Island, and I have a house on it. If you come, we’ll rest and talk a little, huh?
I was surprised, and shy to accept his offer instantly.
-Thank you much, but I can’t know from now on, maybe I can handle it for a few days...
-You can handle it; I know what a cute fox you are... Absolutely manage your job and come, Alright?
-Okay Ayhan, we’ll do something. Are you alright?
-Fine. There was a big deal here; I had some guests from France, so I couldn’t come to Istanbul. I kiss you much, good-bye...
-Bye, take care.
It was halfly relieved me that our friendship with Ayhan was established again. The gnawing inside me was a bit decreased, my guilt complex and pessimism were reduced, and unexpectedly I was hoping to reach some other horizons. If I were not obsessed with Nüket, I would be even feel that as if I was at the beginning of a new period to show the performance of my life.
It was a quite strange thing that I reached to thirty two, to the age of maturity of a male, but I just couldn’t give the relatives of mine the things that they have expected from me. They were expecting from me that I would be some erudite man in the future. I haven’t been. And it was obvious that they have expected that I’d be rich too, but the real thing that my mother have wanted was that I would marry a clean and pretty girl and raise a family.
Even this wasn’t realized.
Sometimes, some unforeseenly children used to show great performance and become into some ‘great men’ when they grew up; the greed that they carry inside motives them, they domineer and leave behind their friends that they accepted as rivals, peers and the people that they make business, and finally they reach to the success whatever the price is. The one who didn’t have the greed inside used to dislike the ugly face of competition. Not knowing but only feeling that when he tear off a piece of the cake his friend would be contented with a smaller piece...
And the reason that I avoid from any competition was that I’ve always been a looser.

26
THE WEDDİNG

Because there was no woman in my life then, I went single to the wedding invitation at the pool-side. My girlfriend had left me about a month ago. In fact, I’d made no effort denying her accusations when she had unnecessary jealousy fits and left her with no choice. So she left. I did similar things like this whenever I wanted to get rid of women; so it happened to be them who did the dumping, not me.
The wheather was very clear; even though it was twilight yet, I could see the full moon and the stars in the sky. Except for the burden of all the vagueness in my life, I was feeling well. By the door, Nüket and Ayhan’s families were welcoming the guests. Nüket’s mother’s eyes showed a moment’s worth of recognition when she saw me, but she made no effort to acknowledge it.
There was a cocktail arrangement by the pool before dinner. At the wide space that faced the garden, there were the dinner tables being prepared. I grabbed myself a whiskey from the bar, and was looking around. Suddenly Fatoş appeared beside me, gazing into my eyes she asked me how I was doing.
-Hello, how are you?
She had some good make-up, and was reeking of perfume. Weared a wine-coloured short night gown on. My eyes searched around for her escort.
-Hi Fatoş, isn’t your husband here with you?  I was hoping to meet him, I bullshitted.
-He’s at a trip in Italia, unfortunately...
She smiled. She seemed glad for her husband’s lack of appearance tonight.
-I was going to introduce you to him, but...
-Oh well, some other time. Let me escort you, or is there anyone else you’d prefer?
-No, I came here assuming you would.
The night was going well from the start. I would better get Nüket out of my mind. I snatched a glass of red wine for Fatoş and a new whisky for myself, as we walked away to a far corner. I asked her whether she knew anything about Ayhan’s house in Güvez. She told me that he bought the area of rocks by the gulf about four or five years ago, after a long period of struggle to do so, and finally built a house on it last year.
-Why did he struggle so much?
-He had to deal with a lot of bureucracy issues even to buy that tiny island. It’s on a sanctuated area of the goverment; under the rocks there used to be this city from the antique age. That’s why he could only build a one-floor farmhouse there, just like all the other villagers there were allowed to. They say it’s a magnificent structure that only looks plain and modest from the outside, and that he allegedly built the house using the antique stones he pulled out from underground.
-You know how big this rocky area is?
-It’s ten acres or something, Ayhan Bey bought not only the island but a big part of all the land near the bay as well. From the villagers. There he owned fifty acres of citrus garden at the shore. There were many empty village houses on his land, not to mention the whole available seashore, yet for some reason he impractically and absurdly insisted to floor undersea pipeline to access water and electricity to build that house on those rocks. Ayhan Bey just loves to do these kinds of original things.
Fatoş was giggling and chatting continiously. Talking about how much of a woman’s man Ayhan is, how maybe he’d settle down once he’s married, how Nüket Hanim is such a charming and smart woman.
Oh, did I happen to know Nuket Hanim? All of a sudden, I didn’t know what to say.
-No, I said.  Then I quickly changed the subject.
-Yes, in fact we’ve met years ago.  Of course no Ayhan was around then.
-Ha-ha-ha... Of course he wasn’t...
I had no clue why she was laughing; but as far as I could tell from the way she behaved, she clearly had some sort of a relationship with Ayhan back then. The guests were slowly being seated at the dinner tables. Fatoş linked her arm through mine. This girl was really something; now she was filling me in on some gossip about the guests sitting around...
-Nobody could be bored with you, I said to her. You’re a lovely girl.
We were taking our seats when she took my hand.
-Thank you very much.  And you’re a gentleman.
She was meaningfully looking into my eyes. I’ve got her, I said to myself, I’ve got her in a bag. The food service started. Fatoş was gulping down one glass of wine after another. Now we weren’t talking at all, just eating and shooting small glances at one another. As we went on to the main course, I felt her hand on my lap.
-You know, she whispered into my ear.  My husband sleeps with other women.
She was giving me the slip. I tried to change the subject without getting too deep into it. I didn’t want to be seen as an opportunist who’s profiting by slandering her husband more.
-Whose husband doesn’t?
I gently held her hand away from my lap and towards the table, continuing.
-Forget it. Keep living your life, don’t upset yourself by making a big deal out of these things.
I dropped a curtsy while still seated, and just like a French aristocrat, I kissed and dropped her hand. She laughed at that... A while later some torches were set on fire, and ‘Carmina Burana’s first notes came blazing out of the speakers. I’d be suprised if they played anything else; it was as if Carl Orff had written the cantata for us as the wedding song.
Those crazy Turks...
We stood up and applaused; the bride and the groom were coming. They went ahead to the wedding table at the left of the service bar in slow steps. Nüket has worn an exaggerated gown, there was no sign of her beauty tonight. Her face was pale, and Ayhan seemed happy in his white tuxedo with his grayed beard.
I didn’t get excited when I saw Nüket. They began to visit the tables after they signed marriage contract. At that moment, we were dancing with Fatoş. I forgot everything and concentrated on the love session I expect to live at the end of the night. I whispered at her ear some seducing words, she seemed to be ready to go bed with me.
We found the freshly married pair dancing next to us instantaneously. When Ayhan saw me, he stopped Nüket and turned her towards us. While Fatoş has entered to the congragulating ceremony to both of them, I saw that Nüket was thinking how she would treat at me soon and getting ready to it. When Ayhan introduced us, we said hello to each other. While she stood there smiling coldly without a word, I told Ayhan that we’ve known each other from years ago; Nüket acted as if she’s just remembered it.  Ayhan told her that it was me, his childhood friend who’ll come to the island as their guest and then he turned towards me.
-The driver will take you from your address tomorrow morning at eleven, be ready...
They kept on their dances and stepped away while Fatoş hugged me passionately; I was aroused again when I felt the details of her equipment on me. DJ has started to play some zippy tracks. When we were walking down to our table, Fatoş has greeted with some people sitting at one of the middle tables; they eyed me with jeering looks.  Then I turned back to hide my glances and I noticed that Nüket and Ayhan were looking at us and talking. I felt uneasy. I realized that, among all those people present there, flirting affair of a guy like me with a married woman could go to some tasteless ends.
I definitely wasn’t that kind of man who has clean moral values. And moreover, I had several nights that I wasted myself  for some three-penny sex sessions, but this time it was different. In my mind, we got out of here and go home together for a wild sex. Close to the morning, when the hunger that blinds our eyes were gone, I’ll be meeting with the realities: Fatoş would be a woman who cheated her husband, leaving plenty of eye witness behind, and I would be the starring actor of the movie. She was somebody who was working at my friend’s office that I was hoping to live a critical period of restarted-relationship; there was no need for an unpleasantness without any reason.
The difference between an experienced and imagined occurrence is that there are witnesses in the experienced one. If there are no witnessses and this affair’s just an closed-to-out experience that hasn’t triggered any other occurances; we just can not differentiate a real event from a thought, a dream, or a lie. Fiction or a real lifepiece, when its passed; it becomes a piece of history existed in our memory; there are no difference left between them at all.
I told Fatoş that there were plenty of people who knew her among the guests, and I guessed that Ayhan and his wife were also examining us. They surely would gossip about us if we get out of here together.
-Look Fatoş, I said.  It doesn’t have any importance for me; for I’m a bachelor and free to do anything. But, soever you’re angry at your husband you’re married to him and all these people around, with all their conditioned minds, turn this situation into an event that opposes you.
-For that reason, let’s get out of here separately. Do you understand me, dear?
She showed a reaction that I wasn’t expecting and left the table. With a cold voice she farewelled me and went to the place where her friends were. The end of the night was reached; I dropped beside the bride and groom and felicitated them again and got out. Twenty-five minutes later, I was alone at home and thinking Nüket again.
I was feeling that this marriage will not last long.  Nüket was unhappy and suffering. And also she didn’t need Ayhan’s fortune and fame at all; she was going to come to me and marry me at the end.  The women would be flourished when they are together with the men that they’re happy with.
In my mind, I saw Nüket as she was wandering among the flowers as a fairy; she came near me, and kissed me, and she became more beautifull.
I was never sleeping with her in my dreams...

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