Anastasia Milko - A little Turkish boy with a wooden stick

water, he turned sharply and immediately lost his balance. One shaky step and Kerem fell into the cold waters of the Bosphorus.

Underwater silence, deep darkness and the body ready to survive. Kerem’s head was cleared and the cool water healed his stomach spasms, he surfaced, trying to stay afloat. His company was already far away and out of reach, it seemed they had not noticed anything in their drunken stupor. The current kept carrying him, and Kerem tried to figure out how to get out soon, because the embankment wall was very high to climb it up without help. He started to pray, hoping to get out not only from the water but from this horror in general. If he could survive and escape, he would never touch alcohol, nor would he attack his father. His kind and fair father Yussuf. Kerem wanted to ask for forgiveness for everything he had done. He was afraid not to see his family, not to say “sorry”.

‘God, let me live, please’

Chapter 5

The parable of the lost son

May 26. Late at night

Can’s dream was uneasy. He saw the quarrel between his brother Kerem and father again. In the dream it was not less painful to witness the battle of the beloved ones, which it had been in real life. Kerem was furious and screamed ‘You ARE WRONG!’ the father humbly tried to reason his son, saying Kerem was just being stubborn. The fight continued but now there was no sound, it was like it had been muted by someone. Can frowned and looked at two mute figures throwing hands and shaking heads. Then Can heard the voice. Deep and clear voice. It said that they both were wrong, and then it said that Can managed to safe the cat that might have not been spared otherwise. The boy saw the street cat again. It was peacefully sleeping on the bench. The one, the Bulgarian artist depicted on his canvas. It was safe and sound.

Can woke up, sweaty and both scared and comforted by the dream. He jumped on the cool floor and approached the window. He kneeled and cried, uttering a prayer again. He was afraid he would never see his precious brother. He was talking to Jesus now, as if it had been his own father.

‘May you take me, if you wish, please, but I ask you to rescue my brother’

The silence was overwhelming and profound. He tried to hold the sobbing away when suddenly there came some knocking on the door.

‘Who could come in the middle of the night?’

Can stood up, waiting for another knocking, and there it came again. Can looked up at the moon and suddenly realized who was right there behind the front door.

‘Kere-eeeeem!’

He flew from the room to see that his parents already opened the door. The young boy looked miserable. He was shaking and frozen in his wet cloths, but also he looked obedient and tired. He waited a second and then jump toward his parents, hugged them and started to cry. First it was a sobbing and then came torrents of precious tears. Kerem came home.

‘Thank you God’

Can burst out crying too, knowing exactly who saved his bother. He was full with emotions, full with the new realization he was yet to fully accept soon in the future. Nothing was sure yet, but everything would be different from now on.

The end

***

This story was told by the streets, trees and the walls of the old Greek Church. The girl knew she had to tell how miraculous events happen in the lives of very ordinary people if they have courage to belief. To belief like little Can did. She opened the notebook and started to write, there must be liberation. You hear the story, you live the story, and you tell the story to repeat the cycle of its life.

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