Silent House by Orhan Pamuk Read Free Book Online Page B

pillows behind you, Madam.”
    “Should I get you another one, Grandmother?” said Nilgün.
    “So, tell me, what are you up to?”
    “Grandma, Nilgün’s started at university,” I said.
    “I know how to talk, too, Faruk, don’t worry,” said Nilgün. “I’m studying sociology, Grandmother, I’ve just finished the first year.”
    “And you?”
    “I’ll finish high school next year,” said Metin.
    “After that?”
    “After that, I’ll go to America!” said Metin.
    “What’s over there?” said Grandmother.
    “Rich people and smart people!” said Nilgün.
    “University!” said Metin.
    “Don’t all talk at once!” said Grandmother. “How about you?”
    I didn’t tell her that I went back and forth between home and mydepartment carrying a huge heavy bag of books, that I sat around bored in an empty house at night before eating and then fell asleep in front of the television. I didn’t tell her that only yesterday morning on my way to the university I was already longing to have a drink, that I was afraid of losing my faith in what they call history, that I missed my wife.
    “He’s been made an associate professor, Grandmother,” said Nilgün.
    “Grandmother, you look really well,” I said out of desperation.
    “What’s your wife doing?” said Grandmother.
    “I told you the last time, Grandmother,” I said. “We got divorced.”
    “I know, I know!” she said. “What’s she doing now?”
    “She remarried.”
    “You got their rooms ready, right?” said Grandmother.
    “I did,” said Recep.
    “Don’t you have anything else to say?”
    “Grandmother, Istanbul has become very crowded,” said Nilgün.
    “It’s crowded here, too,” said Recep.
    “Go sit over there, Recep,” I said.
    “Grandmother, this house has gotten really old and rickety,” said Metin.
    “I’m not well,” said Grandmother.
    “It’s really falling apart, Grandmother. Let’s get it knocked down, have an apartment built, you’ll be so much more comfortable—”
    “Quiet!” said Nilgün. “She’s not listening to you. This isn’t the time for it.”
    There was a silence. I felt as if I could hear the furniture expanding and creaking in the hot airless room. There was a dim, almost distilled light coming in the windows.
    “Aren’t you going to say anything?” said Grandmother.
    “Grandmother, we saw Hasan on the road!” said Nilgün. “He’s grown up, he’s become enormous.”
    Grandmother’s lips quivered strangely.
    “What are they doing, Recep?” asked Nilgün.
    “Nothing!” said Recep. “They live in the house on the hill. Hasan’s in high school …”
    “What are you telling them?” shouted Grandmother. “Who are you talking about?”
    “What’s Ismail doing?” asked Nilgün.
    “Nothing,” said Recep. “He sells lottery tickets.”
    “What’s he telling you?” Grandmother shouted again. “Talk to me, not him! You get out of here, Recep, go down to your kitchen!”
    “He’s not a problem, Grandmother,” said Nilgün. “Let him stay.”
    “He’s fooled you right off, hasn’t he?” said Grandmother. “What did you tell them? Have you made them feel sorry for you already?”
    “I haven’t said anything, Madam,” said Recep as he left.
    “Everything’s become very expensive, Grandmother,” Nilgün said.
    There was another silence.
    “Okay, Grandmother,” I said. “We’d better go settle into our rooms.”
    “You just came,” said Grandmother. “Where are you off to?”
    “Nowhere,” I said. “We’re here for a whole week.”
    “So you have nothing nice to tell me,” said Grandmother, almost smiling with some strange air of triumph.
    “Tomorrow we’ll go to the cemetery,” I said.
    Recep installed us one by one into our rooms and opened the shutters. For me he’d made up the one overlooking the well again. It smelled of mildew, linens, and childhood.
    “I hung your towel here,” he said, showing me.
    I lit up a cigarette, and we looked