persisted too long。 Instead of searching for a second witness required for a
legal separation at the door of the üsküdar judge； the Imam Effendi suggested
his brother。 Now； if I were to offer an additional gold piece to the brother； who
lived in the neighborhood and was familiar with the predicament of Shekure
and her darling children； I’d be doing a good pious turn。 After all； for only two
gold coins the Imam Effendi was giving me a deal on the second witness。 We
immediately agreed。 The Imam Effendi went to fetch his brother。
The rest of our day rather resembled the “cat…and…mouse” stories that I’d
watched storytellers in Aleppo coffeehouses act out。 Because of all the
adventure and trickery； such stories written up as narrative poems and bound
were never taken seriously even if presented in fine calligraphy； that is； they
were never illustrated。 I； on the other hand； was quite pleased to divide our
daylong adventure into four scenes； imagining each in the illustrated pages of
my mind。
In the first scene； the miniaturist ought to depict us amid mustachioed and
muscled oarsmen； forging our way across the blue Bosphorus toward üsküdar
in the four…oared red longboat we’d boarded in Unkapan？。 The preacher and
his skinny dark…plexioned brother； pleased with the surprise voyage； are
engaging the oa