Without a Country

by Kulin, Ayse

  “And if there aren’t?”

  “We’ll call your father. You can always find a flight to Antalya. He can drive you the rest of the way.”

  “My father?”

  “Yes, Korhan, your father! You have a father. That’s what fathers do.”

  “Su, you hit me.”

  “Of course I did. I’m a doctor’s daughter. Even babies are slapped for their own good. You don’t have to go to medical school to learn that,” Grandma said. “Nadya, get me my phone book—and my glasses.” She turned to me. “Go and wash your face. Your mascara’s running. You look a fright.”

  When I stood up, she was rereading the text message.

  I spent a long time in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. I smelled of vomit and my stomach ached.

  “Are you okay?” Nadia called through the door.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  When I came out of the bathroom, I changed my clothes. I felt calmer now, no more tears. I knew that Su would help me figure everything out.

  When I finally made it back to the table, she said, “There’s a flight to Mardin. If you can’t catch it, you can switch your ticket to the nearest airport and let Korhan know where you’re landing. He’ll jump in the car and try to get there before you do.”

  “Su, I’m scared. Maybe we should pray for Tarık.”

  “Tarık is fine. I called the hospital where they put him. He’s got some broken bones, but he’s conscious. He was well enough to send you a text message, right? He wouldn’t have asked you to come unless he was fine. Men are worse than women. If he were helpless or disfigured, he wouldn’t want you to see him. Nadya, where’s Esra’s tea?”

  “Tea?”

  “Have some weak tea and some bread with cheese. You threw up your dinner. You can’t travel on an empty stomach.”

  “I’m so sorry I ruined our dinner.”

  “Never mind that now.”

  “I still can’t believe you slapped me, Grandma!”

  She looked a little guilty. I got up and put my arms around her. She smelled so good. The home phone was ringing.

  Nadya brought the phone over and said, “It’s your mother.”

  My mother?

  “Hello?”

  My father had called her. Did I want her to come? Or did I want to come stay with her in Holland?

  No, I told her. Tarık needs me. First, I would wait for him to recover. Only then would I decide what to do and where to live. I promised I’d call her soon.

  “Mom?” I said before hanging up. “Thank you for calling. I love you.”

  Now I felt strangely buoyant. My mother was ready to drop everything. My father would drive as far as I needed. Su was still strong and still taking care of me. Tarık wanted me at his side.

  I got down half a slice of toast, a bit of cheese, and a few swallows of tea. The cab was on its way. Nadia had packed a small suitcase. First, I hugged her and thanked her. Then I held my grandmother in my arms for a long while.

  “Wait for me, Su. Don’t go anywhere until I get back,” I said.

  “That’s all I do these days. Wait for you,” she said. “What about that hospital in London? Should I call and arrange a later date?”

  “Let me see Tarık first. Whatever we decide, we’ll do it together.”

  “You can go to London together.”

  “Or we can stay in Turkey together. It’s what you and Demdem did. You chose to stay here, despite the arrests and the torture.”

  “But we always felt like we belonged here. Now, I feel like a foreigner in my own country.”

  “We’ll talk about this later. I’ll call you.”

  “Okay, dear. You’re not alone. Do whatever you two decide is best,” she said.

  I kissed her cheeks, her white hair, her hands . . . I was so afraid of never seeing her again that I even kissed the back of her neck.

  “Enough! I’m not going anywhere. You know how stubborn I am. It’s time to think only about yourself and your lover. I’ll air out your red dress while you’re gone.”

  She turned around so I wouldn’t see her tears and walked away on Nadya’s arm. I was getting into the cab when Nadya came running out with a bowl of water. She threw the water at the back of the cab.

  “Go like water and return like water,” she shouted, just like Su must have told her to.

  I looked back as the cab pulled away. I could see my grandmother, huddled in the window like a bird with a broken wing. My home, my street, my whole life . . . they were all receding.

  I, Dr. Elsa Esra Atalay Solmaz, the descendant of German Jews who had to flee their homeland and of Muslim Turks who devoted their lives to theirs, might have to leave the country where I was born. I am on my way to my lover, and perhaps, one day, I’ll be able to live in a country that I can call home.

  About the Author

  One of Turkey’s most beloved authors, with more than ten million copies of her books sold, Ayşe Kulin is known for captivating stories about human endurance. In addition to penning internationally bestselling novels, she has also worked as a producer, cinematographer, and screenwriter for numerous television shows and films. Her novel Last Train to Istanbul won the European Council Jewish Community Best Novel Award and has been translated into twenty-three languages.

  About the Translator

  Born in Salt Lake City, Utah, in 1964, Kenneth Dakan lives in Istanbul, where his focus is on literary translation from Turkish to English. Among the works of fiction and nonfiction he has translated are Perihan Mağden’s Escape, Ayşe Kulin’s Farewell: A Mansion in Occupied Istanbul and Love in Exile, Ece Temelkuran’s The Time of Mute Swans and Deep Mountain: Across the Turkish-Armenian Divide, Birgül Oğuz’s HAH (co-translation), Murat Somer’s Hop-Çiki-Yaya murder mystery series, and Buket Uzuner’s Istanbulians.