The packet was within reach. Saleem took it. Ekin was unpredictable, but her demeanor was changed. Saleem could sense she was not toying with him and that whatever she was offering had not been an easy decision for her to make.
His fingers closed in on the paper. Ekin whipped around and ran out of the barn. Saleem watched her go before undoing the folded paper carefully. Packed within, he found a thick wad of bills. His eyes widened. There was more money than he could estimate, bills of all different denominations.
Saleem panicked, folded up the bills, and stuffed them into his pocket. He listened for the sound of approaching footsteps and heard nothing. Where could Ekin have gotten this from? When he saw no one nearing the barn, he slipped out of view again and took the money out of his pocket. As he fingered through the bills, his heart quickened and he broke out in a sweat. He was left with one question.
Should I take this?
After months of laboring for every lira, selling off Madar-jan’s last pieces of jewelry for a few euros, and stealing bread to feed his family, Saleem could see no other possibility. He needed this money and believed he deserved it. He stuffed the wad into his pocket and smoothed his shirt over the lump. With a deep breath, he stepped out of the barn and walked across the yard toward the small road. He did not turn around or stop to see if the Armenian woman was behind him.
He sat in the back of the vehicle and pushed his pocket against the side of the truck. He kept his head low and did not meet anyone’s eyes as they traveled the dusty road back to town.
In his pocket was a bundle of hope. He could afford to pay a smuggler to get him across the waters and back into Greece. In the last week, Saleem had come to the quiet realization that the passport he was waiting on was not coming. Every day he stayed in Intikal was a day lost. By now he could have been reunited with his family. The money in his pocket was nudging him to make the decision he knew he had to make.
He also knew that the money Ekin had given him had been stolen from her father. There was no way he could return to the Polat farm.
I need this. I put up with Mr. Polat’s orders to do this or that, and then do it over again because it was not good enough. I could not argue when he refused to pay me. This money can get me out of here and back to my family. What does it matter why she did it?
He’d made his decision by the time he walked through the side door. He could hear Hayal in the kitchen. He would not tell them about the money. There was no way to explain it. He needed to leave for the port right away and make his way to a boat for Athens. This was the only way.
Once he was certain Hakan and Hayal had retired to bed, Saleem counted and recounted the money until he was convinced it was real and that it was enough to get him back on course. It was far more than what the pawnshop had paid for his mother’s bangles.
Saleem had never seen his mother without those gold bracelets. He knew only that they had been his grandmother’s, a gift to the daughter she never met. He felt for his father’s watch on his wrist.
Madar-jan must have felt the same about her bangles. They were her only link to her mother.
Though he had no idea where she was, Saleem could now see and hear his mother more clearly than in all those months that they’d traveled side by side, jostling against each other on buses and ferries, sleeping in the same room, and doting over Samira and Aziz. The fog lifted and his mother crystallized before him as a real person. Saleem shut his eyes in the dark and wrapped himself in his mother’s forgiving embrace. He prayed for another chance.
CHAPTER 37
Saleem