Free Silent House by Orhan Pamuk Page A

breakfasts on the tray and carried it up from the kitchen.
    “Sorry it took so long,” I said.
    “Isn’t Metin coming to breakfast?” said Faruk Bey.
    Running upstairs again, I began to open his shutters, which wokehim in a foul mood. He was still grumbling as I went downstairs to pour out the tea, but by the time I’d brought it out Metin had come down and taken his place.
    “Your breakfast will be ready in a moment,” I said.
    “What time did you get home last night?” said Faruk Bey.
    “I forget!” said Metin, wearing only a bathing suit and a shirt.
    “Did you leave gas in the car?” said Faruk Bey.
    “Don’t worry, Faruk!” said Metin. “We drove around in some other people’s cars. It’s not as if I’m dying to be seen in an Anadol around here.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” said Nilgün.
    “Just read your newspaper!” said Metin. “I’m talking to my brother.”
    I went back in to get the tea and more bread to toast.
    “Would you like milk as well, Metin Bey?” I said.
    “All your friends asked about you,” said Metin. “Used to be you were so close, you couldn’t stand to be away from them, now you look down on them because you’ve read a few books.”
    “I don’t look down on them. I just don’t want to see them.”
    “You could at least say hello.”
    “Would you like milk as well, Metin Bey?” I said.
    “Just because you’re political doesn’t mean you can’t be interested in people, too.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?” said Nilgün.
    “Well,” said Metin, “I have a sister who’s been brainwashed, but I see her every day.”
    “That’s just stupid!”
    “Did you want milk as well, Metin Bey?”
    “Guys, don’t start,” said Faruk Bey.
    “No, I don’t want milk,” said Metin.
    I rushed to the kitchen and turned over the bread. They brainwashed her! Was that good? There’s no hope for us until they clean out all the filth in their brains, those empty beliefs and lies, SelâhattinBey used to say, and that’s why I’ve been writing all these years, Fatma, that’s why. I got myself a glass of milk and drank half. When the bread was toasted I brought it out.
    “When Grandmother prays in the cemetery, you do likewise, okay?” Faruk Bey was saying.
    “I’ve forgotten the prayers that Auntie taught me,” said Nilgün.
    “That didn’t take long,” said Metin.
    “Metin, I’ve forgotten them, too,” said Faruk Bey. “Just hold your hands the way she does so she doesn’t get upset, is all I’m saying.”
    “Don’t worry, I’ll do it,” said Metin. “I don’t mind things like that.”
    “You do it, too, okay, Nilgün?” said Faruk Bey. “Put something on your head as well.”
    “Fine,” said Nilgün.
    “It won’t destroy your political beliefs?” said Metin.
    I left and went upstairs. Madam had finished her breakfast and was back at the closet.
    “What?” she said. “What do you want?”
    “Do you want a glass of milk?”
    “No, I don’t.”
    I was picking up her tray when she slammed the closet door and yelled, “And stay out of my closet!”
    “I’m nowhere near it, Madam!” I said. “As you can see, I’m just getting the tray.”
    “What are they doing downstairs?”
    “They’re getting ready.”
    “I still haven’t decided …,” she said and seeming suddenly embarrassed began to root around in the closet again.
    “Madam!” I said. “If we don’t set off soon we’ll get caught in the heat.”
    “Okay, okay. Make sure the door is closed.”
    I went downstairs and put on water to heat for washing up the dishes. As I drank the other half of my milk and waited for the water to warm up, I thought about the cemetery, and I felt a bit emotional,a little strange; I thought about the clothes and the equipment in the laundry room as well. A person feels like crying sometimes, in a cemetery. I went out, Metin Bey wanted tea, which I brought. Faruk Bey, smoking a cigarette, was looking at the garden. The