In just a little while, the sun would begin to set. The river droplets on the Gardener's skin had already completely dried. Dada did not budge. Stunned by this new discovery, with her eyes wide and almost holding her breath, she watched as the Gardener, who had noticed nothing, put on his ragged clothes. Tucking his wide-brimmed hat down almost to his nose, he walked along the riverbank toward the house.
The bewildered girl thought about the Gardener all night long. She had never truly observed him before; how could she have missed the fact that he possessed such an athletic body, failing to notice it until now? Then she recalled the time she first saw him. When he first arrived at their courtyard, he had been such a dreadful sight. Debilitated by hunger and exhaustion, wrapped in filthy, tattered rags and leaning on a staff, he resembled an old man more than a youth. The second time she saw him up close, she hadn't been able to examine him properly either, as she was crying at the top of her lungs while wiping the blood from the face of the Gardener, who lay on the ground. And the third time, when she gifted him the chocolate, she hadn't even looked at him properly then either; she was merely gazing with pity at the still-swollen wound on his face. The Gardener, meanwhile, had been like an invisible man. He moved like a phantom through the rows of the garden, working crouched down, never straightening his back.
If Zeki had been in Dada’s shoes, he would have certainly thought that the Gardener was a plant. After all, who would perform an old man’s labor when they could earn more money and move on to another job? He could have trimmed his hair and beard, and dressed decently and cleanly, just like the servants here did. The Padrone gifted them more than enough clothing every season. Possessing flawless taste himself, he rarely wore the same thing twice. He frequently visited salons and ateliers. At the beginning of each month, as had already become his custom, he would appear dressed in new clothes. The servants knew that now it was their turn, and they would stand happily in line for the tastefully tailored garments, taking turns trying on the Padrone’s gifts.
From that day on, Dada frequently visited her hiding spot and quietly painted the swimming or sun-basking Gardener. One day, she got so absorbed in her drawing that she completely forgot to watch stealthily and raised her head higher, exposing herself. She continued to paint, without even noticing that the Gardener had spotted her. True, she wasn't all that close, but a person’s head peering over the edge of the hill was still visible. The moment he noticed her, he instantly froze in his tracks and looked closely, as if locking eyes with his watcher.
Dada realized she had been spotted and quickly ducked out of sight. For a long while, she didn't even dare to raise her head again. Then, quietly and very cautiously, she peeked out once more. The Gardener was waiting as if in ambush; he hadn't moved an inch, staring intently at the exact spot where he had noticed the watcher not long ago. Dada ducked back down again. It was time for her to leave the area. She slid down the hill without even standing up on her feet. Then she jumped up and ran along the path. The Gardener immediately decided to find out who had been watching him; he went up along the bank of the waterfall, climbed up from a completely different side, and headed toward the edge of the hill where he had spotted the watcher.
No one was there to meet him, and he no longer expected anyone to be. He lay down on the hill and looked down himself, just as he had been watched not long before. The area of the waterfall looked fascinating from up here. For a while, he enjoyed the beauty of nature, then he turned over onto his back and began to gaze at the sky. He placed his hands under his head; something rustled, and a paper-like object caught in his hand. It was the golden wrapper of the chocolate. He sat up and scanned the surroundings carefully, and when his eyes caught the pencil shavings as well, the Gardener smiled.
The next day, the Gardener began to hover near Dada. The girl was enjoying the scent and colors of the flowers, pretending not to even notice him. He was acting the same way, quietly inching backward toward Dada while watering the flowers, and whispering—mostly for the girl to hear:
- Are you thirsty, my beauties? First, I will quench your thirst, and then I too will go dive into my waterfall.
This was more than enough information for Dada. She smiled to herself, slowly walked toward the house, and prepared for her expedition to the meadow. She had to be much more careful now. She needed to hide better so as not to be noticed, and work from there.
She lay in wait just a little distance from her usual spot. It was even better; the swimmer would still be perfectly visible from here.
"He probably really didn't realize he was being watched, otherwise he wouldn't have come back, would he?"
Dada thought to herself and, reassured, prepared to draw. She was convinced that the Gardener had noticed absolutely nothing. Perhaps he had thought it was just his imagination; he would have certainly searched that spot on the hill where Dada had been drawing, found no one, and thus concluded that the watcher did not even exist.
Dada was smiling, waiting breathlessly for the Gardener to swim into the pool. The Gardener was a little late. Once he arrived, he immediately started swimming, but this time he did not undress completely as usual, because he already knew he was not alone.
He dove deeply once or twice, surfaced, and stood facing the hill.
Dada ducked out of sight. She waited, perfectly still, for the splashing of the water to signal that the Gardener had jumped back into the pool, but suddenly she heard the Gardener’s resonant voice:
- Dada, do you want me to teach you how to swim?
LEX · Tuesday, February 2, 2016
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