The Girl from the Golden Horn by Kurban Said

Author:Kurban Said [SAID, KURBAN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC000000, FIC019000
ISBN: 9781468305432
Publisher: The Overlook Press
Published: 2012-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

Sam Dooth walked slowly along Ringstrasse, biting his cigar. He stopped in front of the cinemas and shook his head disapprovingly. Vienna was a reactionary town—not one single film by John Rolland was showing. “Summer season,” he grumbled angrily, and walked on. The streets were sinfully wide, the houses shamefully low. It had been a stupid idea, going to Europe. They should have gone to Mexico or Cuba. John should keep away from women. Women had always meant trouble to the House of Osman. Sam stopped and shook the ash off his cigar. Six years ago he had discovered Prince Abdul-Kerim ragged and starving in a hovel on the Bowery. Sam’s clever Greek heart had seen a chance at once. He fed the poor boy and gave him a new name: John Rolland. But behind the white starched shirt, behind the slim passport, there lived still the delicate soul of an Osman.

“He is a drunkard,” thought Sam, “and he’ll stay that way until he has found peace.” He frowned and was glad that love of mankind and a sense of business went hand in hand. “If he goes on drinking for another three years, he’ll see pink elephants. The Osmans have never been very robust, and then that’s the end of filming.” Sam thought of John with the same tender solicitude a farmer’s wife has for her best cow. “Perhaps a good wife might help him,” he went on thinking “a wife who is humble and quiet and company for his evenings. He should be able to talk about home with her sometimes. That should give him inspiration. He’s mad, that’s what he is.”

Sam Dooth shrugged. He never thought of home. Then he stopped. A brass plate with the inscription “Dr. Alexander Hassa, Ear, Nose, and Throat Specialist” blinked at him. He went up the wide staircase and asked for Asiadeh. The maid took him to the drawing room with the bow windows.

Sam Dooth was an experienced agent and a good businessman. His heart was well balanced and his head clear. But now he stood in the room as if rooted to the ground and blinked in utter confusion.

The temperamental lady who had torn a hundred-dollar bill to bits looked at him, smiling. “Ah …” said Sam Dooth, and looked around fearfully. But there were no heavy objects anywhere near her.

“Madam,” he said, and the prepared speech stuck in his throat. “Madam, please excuse me for disturbing you. But we traced your address through your license plate. My friend and I are desolate to have caused you displeasure.”

“You can speak Turkish to me,” said the blond lady, looking angrily at him. “You have already said kind words about my bosom and my hips in this language.”

Sam looked sad. Any minute now she would take a brass plate and throw it at him. Or scratch his eyes out. Women who tear up hundred-dollar bills are capable of anything.

“Hanum,” he said in his softest Stamboul Turkish, “even though my sins be more

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