Save the Last Bullet for God (15 page)

“What is it?” I asked.

“Sometimes, even though you may really want
to, you can’t tell a person’s fortune. Some call this ‘an unwritten
page,’ but I just call it failure.”

“This is what happens in the movies,” I said
half in jest. “When the fortune-teller foresees something bad, she
doesn’t say anything to the victim.” I laughed to myself.

“Should I remind you of the age when fortune
tellers were burned due to bad prophecy, young man?” she said,
taking on a more serious tone.

“Should I remind you that we live in a
civilized world?” I asked. That disarmed her and, now, we both were
laughing. “Seriously, can I ask you a personal question?”

The astrologer nodded.

“Do you really believe in what you feel and
say? I mean, do you ever have any doubts?” I felt anxiety as I
tried to make the question clear.

“There are a lot of things I can’t prove or
express, so sometimes I just let it go. Am I sure? No, I’m not, but
even the possibility is enough, I think.”

“Something like…knowing the correct answer
among the incorrect ones?” I asked.

“I think so, but rather like knowing the
truth and changing people’s perception of fate. For instance, you
were born with a talent, and from your youth you have communicated
with others from the outside world,” she said.

“The outside world?” I asked, surprised.

“Let’s say you communicate with
extraterrestrial life forms, or, more specifically, with entities
in the solar system around Alpha Tauris. You get very famous by
transferring to humanity what you have learned from them. You
become their most trusted medium; you pave the way for the most
powerful countries’ ability to dominate the world. But, just when
you are about to win the fight and be the most powerful individual
of all mankind, poof! Everything is over,” Gizem said.

After saying,
“
Poof,” she made a vague gesture with her
hand.

“
In that scenario,” Gizem continued,
“because you put the weapon into the hands of a man, and he has a
fate, your fate, then, is to lose as you are about to win. Even if
you had direct contact with a UFO that landed in the Black Forest
in Bavaria, and even if you had the technology of a very advanced
age and weapons that could instantly destroy the world thousands of
times, you could still lose.”

“Wait a minute, you are talking about
something that has happened. What happened? Who is the person you
are talking about?” Many questions came to my mind, and I tried to
ask them all.

“Nineteen thirty-eight. Bavaria, the Black
Forest. Maria O…,” she said.

Before Gizems could finish, Feryal and Ender
came into the lounge. Gizem and I fell suddenly silent as if we had
been caught revealing a secret.

Feryal had Ender sit in the armchair next to
hers and she commenced stroking his hair. She was obviously a
mother. She then turned to us. “Fortune-telling? Without me? I want
in.”

I laughed about how fortune-telling always
attracts women, and we all began a friendly chat that became the
kind of conversation I used to have back in my school days—one made
just for pleasure. We were laughing, joking around, and teasing one
another. The night was black, and the lights were on, but we were
still having fun.

Eventually, the boy excused himself and
after I watched him go to his room, I turned to the others,
“Everyone has a reason for being here,” I said. “I’m here for the
promotion of my book, you for the donation to your university. But
why is Ender here? Why is an eleven-year-old child here, and why do
his parents allow such things?”

Gizem stared at me with gentle eyes,
and gave me a look as if to say,
“So, you
don’t know.”

“
If that poor boy had parents, they
wouldn’t let him come here,” she said. “However, to answer your
question, he’s here in the hopes of getting a good donation to the
orphanage, an opportunity to prove how smart and valuable the
children there can be, and maybe, more importantly, the need of one
child to be cherished.”

I had been so stupid. I was only interested
in my own problems and again wasn’t aware of what was going on
around me. The chat didn’t last long after that, and I excused
myself and went to my room.

In the morning, I got up hastily and almost
ran into the lounge only to find that no one was around. After a
necessary visit to the smoking room, I returned to the lounge to
find the cleric eating his breakfast quietly. Ender was curled up
in one of the armchairs with a book in his hand, but he wasn’t
reading.

I sat beside the boy and asked with my
kindest expression, “How are you? Did you have a good night’s
sleep?”

Ender moved his long brown hair out of his
face and stared at me with his deep blue eyes. “As far as I can
see,” he began, “you have just learned what everyone else already
knows.” After a short pause, he went on. “Let’s make a deal: you
can see me as a freak and treat me like that, but please be
sincere; do whatever you feel like, like before. Nothing would
disturb me more than seeing you feel upset by things that are not
your responsibility. You are a clever man, and I hope you
understand what I mean.”

I was stunned by his incisiveness. The boy
was truly brilliant. I smiled at him.

“Okay,” I said. “I get the message.”

I thrust out my hand, and, as Ender shook
it, he gave me a small wink.

* * *

Wednesday finally arrived. This was the day
I got to see Elif. I was so overwhelmed by being in the competition
that I had nearly forgotten. I rushed into my room to get prepared
and then to the lounge, trying my best not to be late.

When I entered the room, Elif was there. I
had forgotten how beautiful she was. I immediately sat opposite her
and held her hands in mine. One of the competition officials stood
near us, making us feel his presence. I wanted to ask her what was
going on outside, if people were watching us, who they were
supporting, whether or not I looked stupid in front of the cameras,
if there was anything I’d missed, but of course, I couldn’t ask any
of those questions because I didn’t want to be disqualified.

“You look pale,” I said, “but even this
looks good on you. Oh, how much I’ve missed you.”

Elif held my hands more firmly now. “Are you
all right?” she asked. “Do you need anything?”

She couldn’t talk about anything, but I
could. “The meals are great. My opponents are tough, but they are
all nice, and there are a lot of things I’m learning from them.
Actually, if I didn’t feel your absence, I could even say I enjoy
being here. By the way, Mr. Hıdır asked me to tell you that he
apologizes again for the accident.”

“It was an accident. I’ve already
forgotten,” Elif muttered, embarrassed.

“He is a very good man in his field,” I
continued. “What am I talking about? You must be watching it on TV
anyway. This week’s competition is the labyrinth, and I still
haven’t thought of how to get out of it. But I will find a
solution—wow, I just realized there’s only a short time left before
this week’s final.”

Elif just listened to me with a concerned
look on her face while she ran her thumb over my fingers. Time flew
by so fast, and, before I knew it, I was hugging her tightly as she
left. For a while, I couldn’t let her go.

…

As the time for the labyrinth competition
approached, the tension between everyone became blindingly obvious.
One evening, as we were sitting all together and everyone was lost
in their own world, Feryla said what was on all our minds. “With
all the time we have been spending together,” she said, “I’ve begun
to get used to you all.”

“
Stockholm syndrome,” I muttered, and
my words were followed by some soft laughter.

“My self-respect and my relationships with
some of you oblige me to tell you something, though,” she
continued. “I knew how to get out of the labyrinth the day it was
declared. It might be because I am a scientist or because I have
read a lot or because of the things I have learned and retained.
But whatever the reason, I know the answer—I mean, the solution.
However, since it is still a competition, I don’t want to lose my
advantage by telling you how. Maybe I have told you all of this now
to relieve my conscience.”

Fatin frowned at her confession. “I already
told you of my ability to win the challenge,” he said, “and I did
not do so because of any respect or love for any of you.” Fatin
played with his nails without looking at us as he went on. “Even
before I came here, I knew this question would be asked. Please
don’t take it as arrogance, but I also knew that Feryal would know
the answer. Anyway, can I make a humble suggestion? Don’t upset
each other; draw lots among yourselves and solve the problem that
way.”

Ender jumped in. “How can we know for sure
what you know?” he asked. “You can’t tell us.”

“Clever boy!” Fatin grinned. “If I tell,
then you learn, and that’s unacceptable. If you still want me to
tell you after the competition, I can do that.”

“Well,” Ender responded, “considering my
current position and the details I’ve noticed, I can tell you that
I’m close to the exit as well.”

The conversation increased my anxiety and I
sank deep into my own thoughts. I had thought about it over and
over again, but up until then, I had been unable to work it out. It
seemed like there was no solution or escape. There had to be
something I was missing. Was I asking the wrong questions? I
suddenly feared being eliminated.

* * *

The first phase of the competition came and
went, and I managed to make it through. Waiting outside the
elimination room, I knocked on the door and went in to say goodbye
to Gizem.

“I’m sorry; you know I like you. If I had
the chance to choose, it would not be you who got eliminated,
believe me,” I said.

“I’m sorry, too. I did not expect to be
eliminated so soon. I’m surprised. I thought I was doing pretty
well, but they only focus on the results without understanding the
method.”

I tried to reassure her with all the
clichés:
life goes on, don’t be
sad
, etc. She zipped her bags angrily and tried to
pick them up. I stepped in to help, and, as I was trying to grab
the handles of the bags to carry them for her, my hand suddenly
touched the elderly woman’s skin. There was that indescribable
electrical shock again! The woman took the bags from my hand, put
them on the floor, and stared at me.

“Young man, you have something mysterious
about you, but I’m unable to solve it, despite all my life
experience and knowledge. When I looked into your fortune that
night, I did see something, but I decided to not tell you. No one
loves the one who gives them bad news, and doing so has never been
to my advantage in my market.” She smiled at that and touched my
shoulder.

“Young man, you need to change your
perspective and look back at what you have seen. You can win this
competition by eliminating everyone; I have no doubt about that,
but if you do not win this competition, and if you lose the chance
given to you in another competition…,” her voice briefly trailed
off before she continued. “When I took your hand, I caught a vision
that I haven’t had for a long time. It was so clear that it is
still before my eyes. I can still smell the blood and taste the
metal in the air. I saw a setting sun, its last rays obscured by
the dense smoke of a battlefield. The field was full of corpses of
your friends and a defeated army. You were in the middle of the
battlefield with a broken sword, screaming at the sky, begging, and
no one could hear you. Your enemies were busy sharing the spoils
and digging graves. They didn’t care about you—even fighting and
dying with honor was denied you.”

She let go of my hands and picked up her bag
again. “Genghis Khan and his successors destroyed one third of the
known population of the world and influenced the fate of all living
things afterward; did you know that?” she asked.

The absurdity of what she’d said left a
strange, knotted feeling in my throat. I wanted to say something. I
wanted to remember. All I could do was turn and leave the room.

As I entered the hall, I heard a child’s
voice behind me, “It’s just a snapshot, and, if you are still
alive, then you will have another chance. Whether it’s an honorable
death or a victory, who cares? Sometimes, taking that chance is,
itself, the war that has to be won.” I turned and looked at Ender.
He had heard everything.

* * *

All the excitement and glamour of the first
week of competition was gone. Awards had been distributed and
messages of support had been read. After Gizem left the studio, we
gathered in the dimly lit room to watch the episode. No one had
slept and no one cared to speak. We just stared at the television
screen in the lounge, quietly watching the recording (Gizem’s seat
remained empty).

The show began with some trailers and some
touching music. Ender had been the first competitor, as drawn by
lots. We watched as, on tape, he prepared to take his turn in the
maze. In one corner of the screen, there was a stopwatch, and in
the other corner there was a countdown from one thousand meters. In
keeping with the rules of the competition, we were all dressed in
special clothes. Ender had on a bright purple jumpsuit that
glimmered in the light. He also wore an armband with a flashing
sensor attached.

As he began his turn, he lingered at the
entrance a little, touched the walls by bending and leaning against
them, checked the connecting hallways, and then proceeded with
cautious but quick steps. He stopped, looked back, and kept moving,
all the while mumbling something. He was rapidly running out of
time, but the light on his armband remained green. The action was
easy to follow as the pilot camera showed the distance to the exit
for the audience.