Free More: A Novel by Hakan Günday Page A

… He had continued:
    “You know that inn with the two doors, the one the minstrel Aşık Veysel speaks of? That’s the reason for the constant draught in this life! That’s the reason I’m always cold. Guess I might as well go and shut a door.”
    He went and shut the door behind him. He was stabbed sixty-six times and photographs of his corpse taken to be sent to Libya. The photographs were taken from angles that clearly showed the stab wounds. That was the order. Because the bastard had been sixty-six years old at the time he watched me get fucked, and at the time he died.
    Some of it father told me. Some Harmin related to me. I started to say, “Why didn’t you run!” but Harmin laughed. I couldn’t think of a thing to say. It was all because of me … I would have apologized, but I said nothing. Harmin himself left soon after anyway. To shut his own door. Only his books were left behind. He left them all to me. Then there was only me. And all those corpses …
Were you in any way affected by being molested at the age of ten, Gaza?
Who’re you ? Just kidding! Of course not.
Are you sure?
It’s not like this kind of thing only happened to me!
Yeah, but still …
Let me tell you a secret! No one knows … but all ten-year-olds get molested.
Are you serious?
Yes!
Then what happens?
They turn eleven.
Well, how come no one else remembers but you?
Because it’s healthy!
What’s healthy?
Rape is. You know the stages kids have to pass through? For a healthy development? Rape is one of them. That’s why no one remembers. If there’s something you can’t remember, you can bet it’s something healthy!
But you remember.
Because you keep reminding me, fucker!
You’re just fooling yourself, Gaza.
You don’t say. Of course I’m fooling myself. Have got any other choice?
Obviously you’ve been affected by that molester. You’ve been affected plenty. Please admit it.
Fine, I admit it. But only because you said please.
Thank you … how do you feel now, then?
Same as always.
Which is?
Like khat !
I beg your pardon?
Like I’ve been chewed up! Like I’m being chewed on. Like I might be chewed on any minute now, that’s how I feel.
Then there’s only one thing you have to do …
What’s that?
Have yourself spat out.
How?
Cause pain.
To who?
Whoever’s mouth you’re in, that’s who.
But he’s dead. Dordor and Harmin killed him.
The dead can’t chew, Gaza.
They damn well can.
Believe me, they can’t. Some other mouth is chewing you.
There is no other mouth.
There is … the shed.
The shed! Don’t be ridiculous! Whose mouth is that then?
You father’s … Ahad’s mouth.
Never thought of it that way.
It’s my job to think, Gaza. Not yours.
What’s my job, then?
To kill me.
That’s what you always say. Please, stop saying that.
Fine … but only because you said please.
Thank you. How do you feel now, then?
Same as always.
Which is?
Like a paper frog.

 
    There were two alternatives to transporting illegal immigrants: in the first, the goods, that is, the person, would be delivered to the recipient and do forced labor in that country in order to pay off their transportation fees. In the other, the recipient was the goods and would, in return for a one-time-only payment, be taken where he was going and left to his own devices! Since the world was changing, however, the first model was becoming more commonplace. The equilibrium of income between regions of the globe was fast approaching the ratio of life: no life between the earth and the moon, so compared to one side of the illegal immigrant transportation business, the other became fleshier and fleshier with each passing day. Another reason for this was its potential for even more profitable side-trades. The utilization of illegal immigrants as illegal laborers in the manufacture of illegal goods meant an extraordinary advantage in sustainable economy and sustainable evil . For even evil required a certain amount of effort to sustain it. You couldn’t expect