第11部分(第2/7 页)

lonely women like me with missing soldier…husbands

there　were　in　Istanbul；　I　resigned　myself　to　my　fate。

At night； in our beds； we’d hug our children and mope and cry。 To quiet

their tears； I’d tell them hopeful lies； for example； that so…and…so had proof

their father would return before spring。 Afterward； when my lie would

circulate；　changing　and　spreading　until　it　found　its　way　back　to　me；　I’d　be　the

first　to　believe　the　good　news。

When the main support of the household vanished； we fell upon hard

times。 We were living in a rented house in Charsh？kap？ with my husband’s

gentlemanly　Abkhazian　father；　who’d　never　lived　an　easy　life；　and　his　brother；

who had green eyes as well。 My father…in…law； who left his mirror…making

business　after　his　oldest　son　made　his　fortune　soldiering；　returned　to　take　up

his trade at a late age。 Hasan； my husband’s bachelor brother； worked in

customs；　and　as　he　prospered　he　made　plans　to　assume　the　role　of　“man　of

the　house。”　One　winter；　fearing　they　wouldn’t　be　able　to　pay　rent；　they　hastily

took　the　slave　who　saw　to　the　household　chores　to　the　slave　market　and　sold

her；　after　which　they　wanted　me　to　do　the　kitchen　work；　wash　the　clothes　and

even　go　out　to　the　bazaars　to　do　the　shopping　in　her　stead。　I　didn’t　protest　by

saying；　“Am　I　the　type　of　woman　to　take　on　such　drudgery？”　I　swallowed　my

pride and went to work。 But when that brother…in…law of mine Hasan； now

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without　his　slave　girl　to　take　into　his　room　at　night；　began　forcing　my　door；　I

didn’t　know　what　to　do。

Of course； I