Read Honor (9781101606148) for Free Online Page A

remorse. There were huge cauldrons in hell, bubbling away for those who nursed such sinful thoughts. His eyes watered. He had been confident that his mother would notice he had gone missing and send out a search party, yet no one was coming. He was going to die here, perish of cold or hunger. What would people say when they learned that he had died not because of illness or accident, like everyone else seemed to do, but because of cowardice?
    Perhaps they had looked for him in all the wrong places and assumed he was gone. Perhaps they thought he had been attacked by wolves, not that there were any in the area. He imagined a terrible death savaged by the claws and teeth of ferocious animals. Would his mother be devastated or would she secretly rejoice at having one less mouth to feed?
    Thinking about his mother’s cooking made him realize how hungry he was. More urgently, he had to pee. Unable to contain himself any longer, he pulled down his trousers and held his willy, the cause of all his distress. He had barely started to relieve himself when he heard someone shout.
    â€˜Hey, he’s up there! I’ve found him!’
    In a few seconds a man appeared, then another, then ten more. They stood by the tree, watching. Under their gaze, Iskender kept peeing as if his bladder had expanded to twice its usual size. Finally he pulled up his zipper and was considering asking for help to get down when he noticed that among the crowd was the man with the leather bag.
    That was when the strangest thing happened: Iskender froze. His limbs went slack, his tongue went numb, and in place of his stomach was a rock. He could hear people beseeching him to get down, but he could not respond. He sat motionless, as if he had become a part of the tree. An acorn boy.
    At first the onlookers below suspected he was playing dead, eager to get more attention. Only when they understood he wasn’t pretending, that the child was somehow paralysed, did they start contemplating how to bring him down. A man began to climb but couldn’t get as far as the lateral branch where Iskender was perched. Another tried his skill, with equal lack of success. Meanwhile, others were busy holding blankets for the boy to fall into or making lassoes, though no one knew exactly what to do with them. Nothing worked. Ladders were too short, ropes too thin, and the boy uncooperative.
    Just then a voice cut through the air. ‘What’s he doing there?’ Pembe shouted, as she scurried up the hill.
    â€˜He can’t get down,’ someone explained.
    â€˜Oh, can’t he! He’s a big boy.’ Pembe was frowning at her son’s stick-thin legs dangling over the branch. ‘Get down here this minute!’
    Like ice melting under the sun, Iskender felt his entire body thaw.
    â€˜Come down, you rascal! You’ve shamed your father. All the boys have been circumcised. You’re the only one who acted like a baby.’
    Try how he might, Iskender still couldn’t shift his body. Instead he looked down and grinned. Perhaps if he made light of the situation, lighter it would become. It was a mistake. All the pressure that had been mounting inside his mother gushed into a stream of fury when she saw him grin.
    â€˜You spoiled brat! Come down this minute or I’ll break your bones! Don’t you want to be a man?’
    Iskender gave this some thought. ‘No,’ he said finally.
    â€˜If you remain a boy you’ll never have your own car.’
    He shrugged. He would walk everywhere. Or take the bus.
    â€˜Nor your own house.’
    Iskender attempted another shrug. He would live in a tent like he had seen gypsies do.
    â€˜Nor a pretty wife.’
    A puzzled expression came over Iskender’s face. He wanted to have a wife, someone who resembled his mother but never scolded him. He chewed his lip, brooding. After what seemed an endless wait, he dredged up the will and the strength to look down into her eyes –