Part 4
Dada's
decorative garden project proved successful. It turned out very beautiful and
original. The gardener worked diligently; hardly anyone noticed him, they could
barely even see him properly. With his head bowed, he bustled about on his own,
meticulously tending to the garden. In return, he no longer had to worry about
food and a place to stay, and so he repaid kindness with kindness. The
prematurely aged man, always bent over, would care for and cherish the plants
on his knees. He neither troubled nor bothered anyone, grateful for whatever he
was given.
Dada
rejoiced in the beautiful flowers, and the Padrone was happy in the joy of his
adopted daughter. It had already become a habit for Dada to walk through the
garden every morning. Delighted by the fragrance of the flowers, she would
cherish them one by one. Then she would select one and look over at the servant's
young boy standing nearby. The boy would run over instantly, opening his small
folding pocketknife on the way, and would gently cut the desired flower so as
not to damage the others. Dada would inhale the flower's scent deeply and, with
a happy face, drop sweets into the boy's hands.
That
morning too, Dada walked back and forth along the row of roses many times. She
was looking for the right flower, while the boy followed close behind, waiting
for his treat in exchange for the work he was about to do. This time, Dada took
much longer to select the desired flower. The boy’s patience was already
running thin, and soon, he would probably lose all hope of receiving his
sweets.
Finally,
at long last, Dada set her eyes on a large, beautifully bloomed rose, and she
liked it so much that she forgot to call the boy. Without a second thought, she
reached for the thick, thorny stem and let out a desperate cry. A large thorn
from the rose slashed her fingers. Instantly, blood began to gush, filling her
palm. The gardener, who had been kneeling nearby unnoticed by anyone, instantly
jumped up and grabbed Dada’s hand. He shoved her hurting finger into his mouth
and sucked the blood, solely to stop the bleeding. Unfortunately, Dada couldn't
even fathom what this disheveled man, who seemed to have suddenly crawled out
of the earth, wanted from her.
Frightened
by the gardener's behavior, she screamed even louder now, wrenched her hand
away, and slapped him across the face.
Zeki
caught sight of everything from a distance, though he had no idea why Dada had
screamed, either the first or the second time. He rushed over like mad to help
her, grabbed a switch, and struck the gardener right across the face so
violently that blood came gushing from his slashed face. The gardener collapsed
to the ground. Zeki stood over him and struck him twice more with brute force,
but on his third swing, Dada threw herself in front of the man with a piercing
shriek. Zeki’s hand froze mid-air. Dada threw herself upon the gardener,
weeping and wailing heartbreakingly; she pressed her handkerchief onto the
gardener's blood-stained face, crying out desperately for help.
Zeki
was left stunned. Just a minute ago, the girl who had been upset with the
gardener was now doing the exact opposite—protecting him and wailing
hysterically.
No
one had ever seen Dada like this; everyone grew deeply anxious, unable to calm
her down by any means. They could barely tear her away from the gardener’s
body. Then, suddenly, she fell silent; she no longer spoke or cried out, but
she was shaking uncontrollably until they finally administered a sedative
injection. Later, the medication took effect, and at long last, she calmed
down.
The
Padrone brought a doctor for the gardener as well. They treated his wound and
put stitches on his face, and he was strictly forbidden from working until he
had fully recovered. The gardener smiled. It's fine, I can still manage, my
hands don't hurt, he said, but the Padrone sternly warned him: "The
last thing I need is for people to talk and say I force a sick man to
work." The gardener had no choice but to obey his the Padrone.
As
for Dada, she retreated into her own world again for several days; nothing
brought her joy, she noticed no one, and she wanted nothing. She wouldn't even
lie down properly in bed; reclining half-sitting against the pillows, almost
lifelessly, with an IV drip connected to her arm, she stared blankly at a
single spot.
LEX · Saturday, January 30, 2016
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