he had left them alone all these days. Anything could have happened to them by now.
“Because I thought they might be dead like Sarah Hanm.”
“No, no,smail
can.
They
are
fine.” He tried to pullsmail close, but the boy tugged away, his eyes bulging with fear. “Shh, now. It’s okay to be scared.”
“I’m not scared,”smail said. “It was so dark, Baba.”
“I know. I know.” The boy wouldn’t be held and this scared Sinan more than anything. What could happen to a child that would make him refuse to be held by his father?
“It’s okay,smail.”
“It was so quiet.” He tried to control himself. “I’m sorry for crying.”
“It’s okay,
can
m.
Cry.”
The nurse gavesmail a couple of pills for the pain and near sunrise they both nodded off to sleep. Sinan woke to yelling and the sound of wheels squeaking down the hall. The noise didn’t wakesmail, and Sinan sat and watched his son’s face until sunlight filtered through the single window in the examination room. He wokesmail with a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back,” he said.
It nearly killed him to do so, but he left his son alone in a room full of death so he could find his wife and daughter, and as he walked out the door,smail called after him in his bravest voice.
“Don’t worry, Baba,”smail said, sitting straight up in bed. “I’m fine.”
smail’s head.
Chapter 11
N ILÜFER WAS GOING CRAZY ANDREM COULDN’T CALM HER. The first two days after the earthquake, while her father sat in the dirt and prayed forsmail,rem had followed her mother through the streets, the buildings leaning like card houses above their heads. She followed her into half-collapsed buildings where bodies were being pulled from the rubble. Once, when a young boy was lifted from a pile, his head crumpled like a popped balloon, Nilüfer nearly stripped the boy out of the man’s arms beforerem could yank her away. Nilüfer spun around and slappedrem on the cheek.
“It’s not him,”rem said.
Her mother glared at her, her bloodied hand lifted for another strike.
“Mother, it’s notsmail.”
She lunged as if to strikerem, but then slapped her palms to her head and ripped fistfuls of her own hair from her scalp.rem followed behind, snatching strands of hair from the ground as though she were picking oregano at the stem. She wrapped the hair in her mother’s head scarf and clutched the nest to her chest because she was terrified to leave those pieces of her mother on the ground. They spent that night on the cement slabs of the waterfront, her mother finally passing out on her lap asrem tried to smooth the hair over the raw spots.
They awoke in the morning to an aftershock, waves of water sloshing against the cement and wettingrem’s skirt. One of the leaning buildings spilled over, and even though it was two blocks away, glass and metal clattered at their feet.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” Nilüfer said, as she jumped up and ran down the broken sidewalk, holding her head.rem caught her, calmed her, and took her mother by the arm so that it seemed they were simply out for an early morning stroll. She sang a lullaby to her mother, one her father used to sing when she was a child, as she led them down the waterfront and out through the fields where yellow chamomile swayed in the breeze and back through the alleys near the slaughterhouses and by the time they wandered into town, the police wouldn’t let them back in. Too dangerous, they said. Possibility of disease. Did they know aboutsmail? No, the police said. Did they know where Sinan was? No.
Now, on the fourth day, she and her mother sat on a square of cement beneath the leaning sign of a BP gas station, the fetor of gasoline burning her nostrils. The metal pole that held the BP sign was bent and the metal squeaked loose in the wind, but it was too hot to sit in the sun and there was no water to drink and she didn’t know what else to do. Earlier that day, she had picked up a shard of blue glass
“Because I thought they might be dead like Sarah Hanm.”
“No, no,smail
can.
They
are
fine.” He tried to pullsmail close, but the boy tugged away, his eyes bulging with fear. “Shh, now. It’s okay to be scared.”
“I’m not scared,”smail said. “It was so dark, Baba.”
“I know. I know.” The boy wouldn’t be held and this scared Sinan more than anything. What could happen to a child that would make him refuse to be held by his father?
“It’s okay,smail.”
“It was so quiet.” He tried to control himself. “I’m sorry for crying.”
“It’s okay,
can
m.
Cry.”
The nurse gavesmail a couple of pills for the pain and near sunrise they both nodded off to sleep. Sinan woke to yelling and the sound of wheels squeaking down the hall. The noise didn’t wakesmail, and Sinan sat and watched his son’s face until sunlight filtered through the single window in the examination room. He wokesmail with a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back,” he said.
It nearly killed him to do so, but he left his son alone in a room full of death so he could find his wife and daughter, and as he walked out the door,smail called after him in his bravest voice.
“Don’t worry, Baba,”smail said, sitting straight up in bed. “I’m fine.”
smail’s head.
Chapter 11
N ILÜFER WAS GOING CRAZY ANDREM COULDN’T CALM HER. The first two days after the earthquake, while her father sat in the dirt and prayed forsmail,rem had followed her mother through the streets, the buildings leaning like card houses above their heads. She followed her into half-collapsed buildings where bodies were being pulled from the rubble. Once, when a young boy was lifted from a pile, his head crumpled like a popped balloon, Nilüfer nearly stripped the boy out of the man’s arms beforerem could yank her away. Nilüfer spun around and slappedrem on the cheek.
“It’s not him,”rem said.
Her mother glared at her, her bloodied hand lifted for another strike.
“Mother, it’s notsmail.”
She lunged as if to strikerem, but then slapped her palms to her head and ripped fistfuls of her own hair from her scalp.rem followed behind, snatching strands of hair from the ground as though she were picking oregano at the stem. She wrapped the hair in her mother’s head scarf and clutched the nest to her chest because she was terrified to leave those pieces of her mother on the ground. They spent that night on the cement slabs of the waterfront, her mother finally passing out on her lap asrem tried to smooth the hair over the raw spots.
They awoke in the morning to an aftershock, waves of water sloshing against the cement and wettingrem’s skirt. One of the leaning buildings spilled over, and even though it was two blocks away, glass and metal clattered at their feet.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” Nilüfer said, as she jumped up and ran down the broken sidewalk, holding her head.rem caught her, calmed her, and took her mother by the arm so that it seemed they were simply out for an early morning stroll. She sang a lullaby to her mother, one her father used to sing when she was a child, as she led them down the waterfront and out through the fields where yellow chamomile swayed in the breeze and back through the alleys near the slaughterhouses and by the time they wandered into town, the police wouldn’t let them back in. Too dangerous, they said. Possibility of disease. Did they know aboutsmail? No, the police said. Did they know where Sinan was? No.
Now, on the fourth day, she and her mother sat on a square of cement beneath the leaning sign of a BP gas station, the fetor of gasoline burning her nostrils. The metal pole that held the BP sign was bent and the metal squeaked loose in the wind, but it was too hot to sit in the sun and there was no water to drink and she didn’t know what else to do. Earlier that day, she had picked up a shard of blue glass
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