Gardens of Water (80 page)

But he emerged smiling from the pile, his fist raised in the air in victory. He spun around in the field, glancing around the sidelines as though looking for someone.

Sinan limped across the field, through the middle of the boys who continued playing.

“
smail,” Sinan said.

The boy turned around.

“Baba,”
smail said, disappointment in his voice, Sinan thought, as though the boy was expecting someone other than his father.

“That was a beautiful shot.” Sinan tousled the boy’s hair. “You’re very fast. Like lightning.” He used his excited voice, the one that
smail loved to hear, but the boy turned around and glanced across the field, to the other sideline.

“Come on,” Sinan said. “We’re going.” He placed his hand on the boy’s back.

“Wait,”
smail said.

“Let’s go.” Sinan took the boy’s hand and pulled him back toward the camp.

“I’m good now,”
smail said. “Before I was bad and the boys laughed at me. Marcus Bey taught me a lot and now they don’t laugh. Now they choose me first.”

“You’re good,” Sinan said, squeezing the boy’s fingers in his palm.

“It’s because of Marcus Bey,”
smail said. “He taught me. Have you seen him?”

“Your grandfather was a great soccer player.”

smail looked up at him. “You never told me,” he said.

“He was great,” Sinan said, passing now in front of the short line at the soup kitchen. “It’s in your blood,
smail. You’re good because it’s in your blood.”

“I wish I had met him.”

“You would have if people would leave us alone,” he said. “You would have, son, if these people would just go away and leave us.”

“But
Dede
died a long time ago.”

“Time doesn’t change anything.”

Sinan was aware of the strange look his son was giving him, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“
Dede
died because he was old,”
smail said, a question in his voice.

“No,
smail,” Sinan said. “He was young. These people killed him.”

smail’s brows pushed together, and his eyes shone with fear. “Not Marcus Bey. He’s nice.”

“No,
smail. They seem nice, but they’re not. They seem to love you, but they don’t.” He was walking fast now, his anger dragging
smail along until the boy tripped.