happened？ Has something happened to your dear

father？”

“He’s　dead。”

She　shrieked。　The　knife　and　onion　she　was　holding　fell　from　her　hands　and

hit　the　cutting　board　with　such　force　that　the　fish　she　was　preparing　flopped。

She shrieked again。 We both noticed that the blood on her left hand had

e； not from the fish； but from her index finger； which she’d sliced

accidentally。　I　ran　upstairs；　and　as　I　was　searching　for　a　piece　of　muslin　in　the

room　opposite　the　one　the　children　were　in；　I　heard　their　noises　and　shouts。

Holding　the　piece　of　cloth　I’d　torn　off；　I　entered　the　room　to　find　that　Shevket

had　climbed　onto　his　younger　brother；　pinning　Orhan’s　shoulders　down　with

his　knees。　He　was　choking　him。

“What　are　you　two　doing！”　I　shouted　at　the　top　of　my　lungs。

“Orhan　was　leaving　the　room；”　Shevket　said。

“Liar；”　said　Orhan。　“Shevket　opened　the　door　and　I　told　him　not　to　leave。”

He　began　to　cry。

“If　you　don’t　sit　up　here　quietly；　I’ll　kill　both　of　you。”

“Mama；　don’t　go；”　Orhan　said。

Downstairs； I bound Hayriye’s finger； stopping the bleeding。 When I told

her that my father hadn’t died a natural death； she grew frightened and

recited some prayers asking for Allah’s protection。 She stared at her injured

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finger and began crying。 Was her affection for my fath