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SERKAN ENGIN.

SongSoptok | 10/10/2014 |

                

MILD MURDERS     [PART ONE]
















Night was covering the faces like a black veil. The moon was under the invasion of the black clouds. An amateur gambler's fear of losing in the alleys which cover the houses like an octopus. For the ones who are in a hurry to reach their. homes, the angst of a bullet that hadn't yet arrived to it's target. The houses, when you close their doors from inside, warm and safe as a mother's womb, if someone's waiting for you. For those who live alone, home is nothing but the capital of loneliness..

There was no one waiting for him. And at this point, he wasn't waiting for anyone either. When everyone were stuffing their hopes in which they have been carrying around with them to the places they live; he, undressing from the arid climate of his house, wore the black coat of the night... 

Hikmet's footsteps were as calm and dedicated as the stitching up of a surgeon. He wouldn't collapse even if he were hit by a cannon ball. 

The alleys were reaching to the main street like the streams running down to the sea. Hikmet, suddenly crashed in the mainstreet after turning the corner. He was surprised that he was able to come here this fast.

The avenue was waiting for his hunt like the insect-eating flowers. Versicolour signboards and  discount notices..

Pubs and brasseries; in other words the climate of hopelessness, the centers of rehabilitation for the dissapointment, women who were forced to barter their flesh with money occupying spaces in the sidewalk; some elderly, some in their early adulthood, were flowing by Hikmet on both sides.  The avenue was gradually falling behind like an old memory. And the more he was taking steps towards the pier, the more adrenalin was pouring in to his blood. Finally, he was on the port side. The sea was beginning like a botomless cliff at the end of his fingertips. At this point for Hikmet, it was either falling down from the balcony of life into the obscurity, or to surrender to this horrible course embittering him.

''Come on my boy Hikmet! This will all end when you take just one more step.''

Hikmet, never moving his feet that have been fixed to the edge of the pier, looked behind moving his waist and neck. He was afraid that he would retract from his decision if he moved back his feet. Was it only the chaos of a city that he left behind? Smelling a bundle of jasmine exploding his lungs out,  making love with all the geography of his skin,  drinking icy water rattling his teeth, watching film sprawling at the backseat, eating a bagel scrunching and more, they would all fall behind.

''Great surprise! So many things that I would be deprived of from now on...''

He wouldn't be able to watch sunset on top of the Nemrut mountain; go fishing with the Laz crate; learn to make jug from the clay and speaking French. The possibility for realising all those wishes would have been drowned with him in the sea.

He turned his face towards the sea. It wasn't possible for anyone to distinguish where the sea ended and the sky began. Hikmet wouldn't meet the sun which would take down the reign of darkness. He shouldn't have done it. Think for a second Hikmet! Who knows what this sea harbours in her chest. How many fishes, oysters and moss...How much sand, wracked boat and lots of others.. Certainly there's space for you between them..

 ''Actually, sea is the universal cluster. You know, the one which is to be shown  
 at the courses in mathematics, comprising everything. The sea is the sub-cluster of the World Hikmet..It comprises all of us.. Oh! What am I thinking?..  

''To hell with it. I will throw myself into the sea  and it will all be over soon.''

He reached in to his pocket and took out his lighter. There was about a half pack of cigars. Slowly he took one out from the packet and put it on his lips with utmost care, and then lighted it up. He inhaled with such a desire and joy as if he hadn't smoked for days. You could say that it was a ritual.

He lifted the lighter that he was still holding in his hand with respect, then he caressed it with his eyes; it was a gift from Sibel.

Sibel was a tall, plump and cheerfull girl. Straightforward and candid.. She would take a stand against the pain like the Chinese Wall; hope would have flourished where she touched.

For a period, Sibel was the only thing that he thought about. His heart would have beaten speedily when Sibel's hands dissapeared in his palms. Sibel's eyes would have bounced like a timid gazelle, in the steppes of Hikmet's face.

Once upon a time Sibel had stabbed Love like a switchblade into his heart. But a huge love had been toppled like a plane tree, because of the unnecessary jealousy of Hikmet.

''How many years have passed since we broke up? I wonder if she still remembers. At least if I could have just hugged her one last time.''

He kissed and caressed the lighter. Then he put it int his pocket, like putting a baby to bed. One drop of tear escaped from his eye. ''Come on boy, Hikmet, a little bit of courage. You will hit the bottom of the sea and it will all be over...There's no other way Hikmet. Let's do it. Come on...''

He straightened up slightly after slightly leaning frontward upon his feet fixed to the front of the pier.'

'So what happened!? You were swaggering at home. You were talking big, weren't you. Huh? You don't have the courage, do you!?''

''I will make it buddy! I will end this...''

Even though he made a little move the fear drew him back from the neck. ''Come on buddy throw yourself! Do it!''
''I can't do it.''
''Of course you can, you coward dog''
''What if God exists?.. ''
''That's a fine kettle of fish. All of a sudden you came around?..''
''What if ...God exists?.. How can I confront him like this?''
''You dog! You coward asshole! Throw yourself!''
''Shut up now!''
''You shut up and throw yourself into the sea.''
''I can't.''
'' You should.''
''I can't, I can't.''

He shouted out loud stabled to the front of the pier, cracking his veins: ''This has to come to an end...''

(2)
2 Months Ago:

''Welcome, officer Cemal.''
''What is it? Why did you call me this late!?''
''There is a body found. Chief Ofiicer wanted us to go to the legal medicine and see it.''
''Ok, let's go.''

They left the Police Station and got into the car. Ümit had got behind the wheel. It was nightime. Stars nvaded the sky like a barbarian tribe. The moon was exhibiting it's every detail, in the manner of a stripper.
The city was flowing on both sides of the car. Children who sheltered in the cashpoint cabin caught Cemal's eye. They were the wasted of life. These violence breastfed children were trying to sleep by silencing the hatred that came out of their hearts and disturbed their sleep.

They never spoke along the way. Cemal was sadly disappointed by Ümit. In fact he couldn't admit the truth. He loved Umit like his brother. How could someone's brother be a homosexual ? Especially Ümit...A sturdy young man. This wasn't a burden that Cemal could bare. He wished this was a nightmare that will disappear when he woke up.

Umit was a calm and naive young man. He had been interested in men ever since he could remember, and even though he didn't get any pleasure from it, he floated around with girls in order to be seen as heterosexual by the others. He revealed his sexual identity to Cemal, to be able to live the freedom of englightening his condition to one of his closest friends in this world. If only he had refrained!

Cemal had turned into a bull which had seen a red pelerine, and disbanded the table in front of him. He madly punched the walls, cursed Umit.

Cemal was a nervous man. You know, like those whose anger was a flash in the pan. But this time his anger neverending. That night he wandered around the house like a ghost, out of misery. As if  walking in his coffin, he was feeling depressed. Then he drank until he forgot his name and started crying for the first time since his childhood....

They arrived at their destination. Parking the car, they entered the legal medicine. Turning the corner they headed for the morgue downstairs.

''Hi brother Ahmet.''
''Welcome Cemal.''
''How are you brother.''
''Fine thanks.''
''We came to see the new corpse that came in.''
''Ok, come with me''

Passing a dark, narrow corridor, they reached a large room. The room looked like a mushroom field: A bunch of stretchers and corpses covered with white sheets...This was the gateway to the cemetery.

Ahmet headed towards a stretcher in the middle of the room. When he lifted up the sheet that covered the corpse, Cemal and Ümit jumped one step back, startled. The corpse was beheaded. His neck had been improperly cut-off from where his shoulders started. There were large bruises and cigarette burns on the corpse. On his back, there was an inscription carved by a cutting equipment from his spinal column to his neck.

'Which silkroad multiplies sequence of letters.'

''As you can see Cemal, the man had been brutally tortured. Almost all of his bones have been broken with a hammer-like equipment, lots of cigarettes had been put out on him and he was slaughtered like a sheep.''
''What the hell is this ?. I've never seen anything like this before. Have they found his head?''
''No.''
''Please turn the corpse over brother Ahmet.'' said Umit. ''Let's see the front side.''
''Why!? Do you want to see his prick?'' Cemal asked, adding his most humiliating stare to his words. This was the first time that Ümit was so angry with Cemal. He could understand his lack of acceptance of his condition, but his humiliating attitude got Ümit mad. Despite that, he remained silent. He prevented his anger to come out of his lips.
''Let's turn it over brother Ahmet'' said Cemal, ignoring Umit's stares that were directed at him like a barrel of a gun.

Ahmet turned the corpse over. The front was as much dmaged as the back. And in the middle of his chest, a huge K was carved with a cutting equipment.

''We will have to struggle a lot on this case.'' Cemal murmured.
''Ok brother Ahmet. You can cover it up...When will your report be ready?''
''I'll finish it by tomorrow morning.''
''Ok brother, take it easy.''
''Thanks, you too.''

Cemal in front, Ümit one step back, passed through the mushroom field elegantly. They rapidly climbed the stairs with more shivers than before, in the dark corridor.

Ümit sat behind the steering wheel again. They did not speak along the way a. Both of them were totally confused. They were thinking of each other and of the corpse

When they came in front of Cemal's house, two anxious hearts approached the upper floor window.  A pair of half bashful half worried eyes turned back, after caressing Cemal in the car.

When the car stopped, not even looking at his face, Cemal said ''Everything that you find should be ready by morning'', and turning his back went downstairs, ignoring Ümit's answer ''As you command.''

When he looked up to the house-owner's window, the face that was stuck on the window pulled back.

As soon as he opened the door, he lit the corridor's light and headed for the kitchen.
Taking a beer bottle out of the refrigirator he took a huge sip, and headed for the living room with the bottle in his hand. He lit the table lamp which had a photo right underneath, and sank into the arm-chair.

In the room only the photo was lit, everything else was in the dark. He fixed his eyes on the photo. The photo slowly came out of the constraints of it's frame and spread through the room. And slowly caressed Cemal's memories.

It was the picture of a beautiful young girl. Her skin was the most innocent gleam of white; her hair the reddest tone of lust... A handful of frickles spread out  under her eyes.  And her smoky hazel eyes...

After finishing  couple of beers and turning the room into a nicotine empire he went to bed and dived into the black waters of sleep.

(3)

In the morning, he woke up surprised that he opened his eyes in his own house as always. he had moved into this house years ago, and still couldn't believe that he was no longer in the sock and pee smelling dormitory of the orphanage.

Cemal had no one else but his loneliness. He neither knew his mother who left him at the door of the orphanage, nor his non-identifiable father. His oldest memories were the ruthless beating sessions of the manager.

His eyes were opened with fear every morning at the orphanage. Especially when he wetted his bed...his breakfast was nothing else but the brutal slaps on his face. He deeply missed his bed during the day which passed like a storm of violence.

When he went into the chest of his bed, his eyes closed to the dream of his home, and the longing for non-beating parents. He made his bed morphine, when the night breast-fedhis dreams.

He'd rather have a mom who would fondle his hair. ..A father who would swing him on the swing...When he was for hungry for compassion he would give a big embrace his dear mother; and take refuge in his father's chest when he was thirsty for security. Why was he a destitute ? Why did he have this heavy-weight loneliness? He still asked this to himself. When he asked, his anger exploded like a molotov cocktail in his chest cage...

The door-bell rang as he just washed his face. When he opened the door, Jale was in front of him with pre-rehersed smile.

Jale extended the plate full of pie as she said ''Good Morning'':

''I made cheese pie...I know you love it, so I brought one plate..''
''Thank you. It was a burden for you.''
''What burden for god's sake. Well...We wondered about you when you went away and didn't come back for a while...''
''Is that so? We needed to go to the legal medicine last night.''
''Well...Bon appetite.''

She attached the pre-rehersed smile on her face again. She started consuming the staircases while Cemal was slowly closing the door.

Jale and Jülide were two sisters. It was quite a while that both of them passed their forties. Even though that they were both in love with Cemal, they  both tried to hide it from eachother and at the same time secretely competed. The only thing that made them forget the fact that they have missed life, was to embrace the hope of Cemal could love them.

The sisters’ flirting was a cure for the bleeding points of his self-esteem. Cemal neither gave them hope, nor did he burnthe ships... This was a pretty hide and seek game for him.

He watered his flowers carefully after crowning his breakfast with Jale's delicious cheese pie. He caressed all of them one by one and spoke to them. And then saying farewell to his house, he got on the way to the Police Station...

When he reached the center and approached the murder desk an extraordinary surprise met Cemal. The corpse that was found last night had become the celebrity of media and this situation drew the attention of the Ministry of Interior Affairs.

Umit welcomed Cemal saying ''Good Morning Chief'', -this time for the sake of formality- lightly standing up from his chair. Cemal sat on his desk with a reluctant response. As he just lit his cigarette, his brewed tea with three sugars caught up, as usual.

 ''Well...chief'', murmured Ümit. It was unusual that Ümit presented the case evaluation  before Cemal finished his first tea. But this time it was different.

''The corpse that have been found last night is on the first page of every journal. The public is in panic. Minister of Interior Affairs, personally gave a call and gave special order for the suspects to be found.''
''Have you identified the corpse?''
''Yes we got the identity by scanning the fingerprints. His name is Ziya Semerci. He is a hard-boiled drug-dealer known as broken Ziya.He got caught twice for drug dealing and he has three records for wounding. When he was in prison for his last case, he was discharged benefiting the pardon. 
''Drug-dealer ha? Where was the body found?''
''Found in an empty field all nude. His head is still missing. According to legal medicine' report, the victim was dead for twenty-four hours at the time he was found. The inscriptions on his chest and back were carved with a knife, the seventy percent of his bones were broken by hammer and one more thing which is absolute is that he was beheaded by a rusty wood-saw... But there isn't  anything that would identify the DNA of the murderer.''
''Now you go and collect as much information about this guy called Broken Ziya. Find out who he was working for and who his friends and enemies were.
''Understood chief. With your permisssion.''

As he Ümit was leaving, Ceml was lighting his new cigarette. The İnside of his head was as untidy as a bachelor's room.

''What the hell is this.'' he said to himself. ''Even if I thought that it was the execution of the drug mafia aiming to misdirect from the target, I still don't think that they would be so creative... I wonder if it is the revenge of the wounding incidents? What the hell does this 'Which silkroad multiplies the series of letters' 'Is it a puzzle or what?'' Puff, looks like we're gonna struggle a lot...Ok but why is the head missing!?!!

Cemal pushed the series of questions to the most isolated  corner of his mind. He headed to the kiosque to buy a new packet of cigarettes.

Downstairs, when he was passing by the theft desk his attention was caught by the hand-cuffed youngster standing in the middle of two uniformed policemen. He was good-looking and probably a university boy. The young man was continiously smiling to himself with an ironic expression on his face and nodding his head slightly on both sides.  Cemal approched them unable to suppress his curiosity.

''What's his guilt? he asked to one of the uniformed guys.''
''Chief, he had stolen some books from Tüyap book fair.''

Cemal had an eye contact with the young man. He was stuck in between laughing histerically and crying and weeping.

''Boy are you an idiot!? Are books stolen in this country? Go and rob a bank, avoid taxes or conspire to rig the bid. How come you are so stupid to get nailed for stealing books!?''

The young man responded with a certain smile on his face, by nodding his head sweetly up and down.

Leaving the Station, Cemal left the softest place of his conscience hung on the eyelids of young man.

As he just turned the corner of the street, a hand and a man behind it, stopped Cemal by pressing his hand on his chest in a polite and decisive manner. His clothes  were  untidy but clean, about sixty-sixty five yers old, his eyes the busiest avenue of his face.

''Hey boy! Let's applaude the brave boys who steals books from Tüya with a laughter derived from sorrow. Even though Turkey doesn't know how to be proud of them, I am proud of each one of them...'' And then attaching a huge and insistant question mark to Cemal's mind dissapeared from sight in the crowd,  gliding like a sword-fish. Cemal sttod looking behind the old man like conned southwest fish.

''Boy, did he read my mind !.''

[to be continued]

(Translated by Metin Anli
Edited by Aparajita Sen)


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