The Time Regulation Institute (39 page)

He made a few final changes on the chart and then turned to me.

“Forget about such questions. You'll get used to these things in time. One day they'll be like second nature. What you said to the mayor the other day was entirely and absolutely wonderful.”

“Oh, but it was what
you
said that was truly admirable.”

“We're old friends. We went to school together and we've been close ever since.”

“It's just that . . .”

“Yes?”

“That whole discussion about our ‘success' rather surprised me. We haven't done anything yet!”

“Well, you're wrong about that, Hayri Bey. Just to start is success in itself. Think about it: we have established ourselves in this little office, and we have managed with these conditions, sacrificing ourselves to do this vital work. Is this not success?”

Suddenly he stopped; looking me directly in the eye, he asked, “Hayri Bey, don't you believe in what we're doing?”

I glanced at the personal effects I had arranged around the edge of my desk. I thought it might be time for me to collect myself and my things and leave. When he realized what I was thinking, he smiled as if to reassure me.

“Don't worry. I don't intend to let you go. There's still so much work waiting for us at the institute. But still I'd like to know why—why don't you believe in what we're doing?”

“It's just that we don't seem to be engaged in meaningful activity.”

“What do you mean by meaningful? Are the meanings we share not plucked from the air at a moment's notice? Take a porter, for example. There's a piece of furniture, and he has to carry it from one place to another.”

“Is that all?”

“But to your mind, or rather your logic, everything and anything can be refuted! Thinking about any kind work for ten minutes, no five, even three, can render it utterly absurd. You need but ponder something closely to extract it from any system of logic.”

For more than a moment he was lost in thought. Then he leaned back over his diagram. Then he got up to have a look at the chart from a distance. Wheeling around to face me, he declared:

“My good man, first there was man and then work. Work was created by man to be executed by man. And we have created this. Are you suggesting that because no one ever thought of such a thing before, or approached the idea in such a way, our endeavor cannot be construed as meaningful work? We are indeed engaged in work, and work that is vital. Work is a matter of mastering one's time, knowing how to use it. We are paving the way for such a philosophy. We'll give our people a consciousness of time. We'll create a whole new collection of adages and ideas, and spread them all over the country. We shall declare that man is first and foremost a creature who works, and that work itself is time. Is this not a constructive thing to do?”

He really seemed rather distraught just then. He was nearly out of breath, and panting as if he'd just put down a heavy load.

“I sense that you limit yourself to timepieces and neglect that which lies beyond. A clock is an instrument, a tool, albeit a very important one. Progress begins with the evolution of the timepiece. Civilization took its greatest leap forward when men began walking about with watches in their pockets, keeping time that was independent from the sun. This was a rupture with nature itself. Men began following their own particular
interpretation of time. But that's not all. For a timepiece is time itself, we mustn't forget that!”

The best I could do was fall back on my usual refrain.

“Sir, as you know, I'm an ignorant man. And all that I do know—or rather whatever I manage to actually hear, whatever my ears manage to pick up—comes from Nuri Efendi, Dr. Ramiz, and you. So how could I know about such things?”

Halit Bey laughed.

“Don't make yourself out to be so naive. I'm quite convinced there are a many good things you do know. You're intelligent enough. You just don't believe it. You lack faith. You are in pursuit of an absolute. How strange to see a watchmaker—a man who concerns himself with relative notions such as time—in pursuit of absolute values. I just don't understand.”

He seized my shoulder and shook me.

“You're going to change, Hayri Bey, change. But above all else, the Time Regulation Institute needs you to believe.”

With that he sprang to his feet, dropped to his knees, seized one leg of his chair, and raised it high into the air; and without bending his arm, he stood straight up and marched around the room holding the pose. Then, tilting his head back, he placed the chair leg square on his nose and, opening his arms wide open for balance, he resumed his slow tour of the room.

With a deep breath, he returned the chair to the floor. Until this moment I hadn't noticed quite what a splendid body he had. He was a good-looking man, and nimble too, with muscles rippling across his chest.

“But why didn't you cheer? You were too surprised, weren't you? I have nearly eighty different tricks like this up my sleeve. I could easily find work for myself in a circus, if I wanted to do such a thing of course. But I have chosen to regulate clocks.”

And he slammed his fist down on the desk.

“And regulate them I shall! We shall regulate them together.”

Returning to his own desk and chair, he gestured for me sit down opposite him.

“We've forgotten about Dr. Ramiz. We need to find a position for him. I will elect the doctor to be a new member of the staff. Whom will you recommend?”

“I've no idea,” I said.

I truly didn't know what to say, as I hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about. It was all beyond my comprehension. I was, in addition, suffering from the sort of headache that comes with seasickness. With great patience, Halit Bey continued:

“Allow me to explain. Half of our staff will be made up of people we know. Isn't that what we discussed the other day? One from their side, and one from ours, and as there are two of us, whenever I offer someone a post, you earn the right to suggest someone too. Now, I've just suggested Dr. Ramiz.”

I felt a little more at ease. We were playing some kind of family game. Halit Bey had put forward Ramiz.

“Lazybones Asaf Bey . . .”

“Very good. For which position? I must say I do like the name. Dr. Ramiz's profession requires that he be appointed to the Labor Statistics and Social Coordination division. What would be suitable for Asaf Bey?”

“One of the branches. For example, the Gear Branch . . .”

“Can he handle that?”

“He was a dentist once.”

“But he's not anymore?”

“No, not since a patient bit his hand. Besides, he has an aversion to work. He enjoys sleeping most of all. If a patient ever came to his office while he was dozing in the coffeehouse, or carrying on with people there, his assistant would send word and he would take his time preparing himself for the job. Most times he'd come right back, as the patient couldn't be bothered to wait. I suppose he'll refuse the offer.”

I thought Halit Bey might find the story amusing, but he didn't seem ruffled at all. With perfect composure, he said:

“An interesting fellow indeed. There's certainly something about him . . . And I am certain we'll find him a job that he'll perform with great success. But he may not be the best one to start off with. We'll consider him later. Can you think of someone else to recommend?”

“The poet Ekrem Bey. We're fond of one another. He's in his thirties.”

“Now this sounds promising. What's his occupation?”

“Really nothing at all up until now.”

“I see, a young man, a fresh talent. Agreed. We'll get back to Asaf Bey later on. Any other recommendations?”

“I haven't mentioned Zehra Hanım, because she counts for Nermin Hanım.”

“Our current staff is by no means our complete staff. And I shall not submit a proposal for a final staff until our institute has been approved, because I am obliged to keep the staff as large as I possibly can. Institutions that are up and running offer a sense of security. This is why I want the institute to be a living organism in the full sense of the term, so that our time can itself be made visible through our staff's expertise. Everyone will gain a clear understanding of what we're doing! So we must recruit personnel who will agree to the task given to them, whatever the situation.”

“Would it not be wiser to begin with a slightly smaller team?”

“Out of the question.”

“The organization could expand when the need for more personnel arises.”

“Oh no, you're proposing we set sail on a ship with nothing but a rudder and a funnel. No, a ship is a unified entity: It has an engine, a prow, a stern, a bridge, and cabins and whatever else. All this forms a whole, from the captain all the way down to the rats! Find me a crew for my ship and the passengers and the rats! Do you understand? Working with a small staff means not working at all. An institute is a living organism, with arms, legs, and a stomach—we need them all. And I shall go one step further and say that we are compelled even to employ extraneous limbs.”

I mustered all my courage.

“And just why is that?” I asked.

“To discharge them when the need arises. Surely you are aware that all the world is jealous of an institution that has the official or semiofficial blessing of the state? You can see it everywhere. There's always talk of reducing costs, and decisions are made accordingly. And what will we do when external pressure
is brought to bear on us and we have no choice but to take action? Are we to sacrifice our closest friends and relatives? Of course not. I plan to have several scapegoats on hand. You know whereof I speak, do you not? Every year the ancient Jews would transfer all their sins to a goat and then chase the creature out into the desert. When the need arises, we'll do the very same. We must have all this mapped out in advance. Once the institute has been in place for two years, talk of extravagant spending will begin. So we shall need at least two or three people we can comfortably sacrifice, if we are to show the public that we have nothing but the best intentions. And what shall we do after that? Draw straws? Well, perhaps we could, but . . . In any event, we shall take the necessary precautions now so as to have a few people ready, the kind of people any institute can do without, in fact the kind we could take legal action against, the kind of person who has aroused suspicions from the start. And of course we shall keep some personnel in reserve, to run our time regulation stations.”

He was pacing frantically about the room.

Regulation stations were small roadside posts where ladies and gentlemen could stop in to adjust their timepieces. There fashionable young ladies, handsome men, strapping young lads, and citizens both young and old could have their watches regulated for a modest fee, after which they would be issued with a receipt. They were placed along the busy boulevards of the city's most fashionable and affluent neighborhoods, and over time they penetrated deeper into the backstreets and other, more modest, parts of the city. Our first stations were in Nisantası and Galatasaray.

An undertaking this ambitious would require a large staff. We would need young, sharp-witted, and personable employees who could explain the Time Regulation Institute's mission to customers and applicants while they tended to the regulation of their timepieces.

Sadly I felt compelled once again to put forward an objection:

“But who would go into a shop for such a simple thing, as if he were just popping in to have a shoe shine? And then of course there's the fact that modern life has been slowly destroying
our most dynamic local businesses, not to mention the local barbers and corner pudding shops. People passing by will just pop their heads into the station and adjust their watches themselves.”

Halit Ayarcı replied:

“Now, there you've got it wrong, for just the opposite will occur: people will come running. Our stations will be so stylishly designed and run by such charming staff that they'll be busier than the busiest shops in town. Just trust me!”

Only four months remained before our personnel request was to be certified. This didn't bother me overmuch. I was assured four months of relative peace of mind, after which the matter would pass into God's hands. But, I thought to myself, if all this is to end in four month's time, I better take precautions for the future. That was the least I could do.

Fortune had not given me the opportunity to live the life of an ordinary man. And so, if I was to succeed, I had to be that much more courageous and enterprising, while exuding a resolute nonchalance in my dealings with others. Perhaps Halit Bey won't manage to pull this one off. Though clearly his courage would never falter—he would remain the same man. Should I follow in his footsteps? What if I tried, for example, to overtake him in this matter of the regulation stations? And so I made my first deliberate (and not insubstantial) proposal since the opening of our institute.

“Will the personnel have a distinctive uniform?” I asked.

“I hadn't thought about that.”

“You know, I'm not sure it would be favorably received, but if we want the institute to catch on, I believe it's a must. A uniform that will bring out the best in a man's body and that will conceal, if necessary, a woman's age, while highlighting a beauty beyond sexuality, something sharper and more striking—a uniform to suit the silver screen. If anything, some kind of cap, and if for no reason other than to give it a more masculine air!”

“Why is that?”

“To draw attention. What would the public think of a motley mass of people?”

Halit Bey thought it over for a moment and then cried:

“It's done, then. You win! We will issue uniforms. Better yet, we'll have something for our entire personnel, managers aside. We'll design a little badge for them. A rosette at the very least! Our entire staff will be decked out in special attire, which means we'll have a unique look that is sure to appeal to the public!”