aici<\/strong><\/a><\/em><\/p>\n\u00a0<\/p>\n
\nHayfa was a beautiful half-Turkish, half-Romanian girl. Being an orphan at a young age, her mother, Samira, had been adopted by a Romanian family. She was given a good education but unfortunately she lost them too, much too early. Living off her allowance and welfare she had managed to graduate from high school. She then gave birth to Hayfa and many of the plans she had made for the future had to be shelved. Now, the greatest richness of her life, is of course Hayfa, which is why she always anticipates her returning full of concern and even fear. Hayfa goes out many times and is often seen staring at the sea for hours. Samira never asks her why she does this; maybe it is calling out to her. But she would like to know why Hayfa feels this strange attraction towards the sea.<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Hayfa, what makes you go out like that every night?\u2019 Samira asked her in a gentle voice.<\/p>\n
After a long silence she answered shyly.<\/p>\n
\n\u2018I don\u2019t know, mother. I\u2019m waiting for something to happen, but don\u2019t ask me what, because I wouldn\u2019t know how to answer you. I think, feel, that my life is going to change.\u2019<\/p>\n
\nHer mother usually believed everything Hayfa said. When she gave birth to her, an old woman from a near by village was brought in. They called her \u2018the Turk\u2019s wife\u2019 because both she and her husband were Turks. But they were peaceable and got along with everybody. Immediately after birth she took Hayfa in her arms and her voice seemed to come from another world when she said: \u2018You\u2019ll be the fairest in these lands and you\u2019ll sing like a nightingale. There\u2019ll be nobody like you.\u2019 She paused for what seemed an eternity and then continued \u2018But luck will always be further than you need it to be.\u2019 She then took Hayfa to another room. Hayfa was also named after that old woman. Her mother liked the name so kept it.<\/p>\n
\nSeventeen years had passed and Hayfa become ever more beautiful and when she sang one could not help but feel melancholy. There was no other voice like hers in those parts, or many believed, anywhere else in the world. She liked to sing so much that she wished for nothing else. On the beach, there was a big hotel with a nice restaurant. The owner was a Turk. Somehow, he had set his heart on Hayfa and followed her everywhere. She was paying no attention to him but without knowing why, she felt attracted to him. He was rich for sure but she knew that was not the reason. One evening, as she was going home, walking down her brightly lit street, she heard someone call out to her. She turned her head and saw a car parked next to the pavement. Omar was stepping out of the car. She waited for him as he had already started towards her. She did not understand very well what was happening to her but felt as if she were floating and realized it did not matter in the least that he was fifteen years older than her. She could not take her eyes off of him; he was good looking, tall, with a fine figure and such manners that it was impossible not to answer him. She offered her hand; he took it to his lips and kissed it gently. His eyes glistened like diamonds.<\/p>\n
\n\u2018How are you Hayfa?\u2019 he whispered. \u2018I\u2019ve wanted to talk to you for while.\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018What about? Please tell me, I\u2019m listening.\u2019 He lowered his gaze as if asking forgiveness.<\/p>\n
\n\u2018You are so beautiful that I get nervous when I look at you. Firstly, I\u2019d like to ask you to sing in the hotel restaurant; one recital only. You\u2019ll be very well paid. I\u2019ve a hall next to the hotel. I usually rent it out to theatre companies that tour our town. But if you agree, I can open it just for you. You can perform there every night. Also, please tell your mother I want to ask her permission for your hand in marriage. I want us to marry as soon as possible, of course provided that is also what you would like and that you like me. If I have to wait, I will; though it\u2019ll be difficult.\u2018<\/p>\n
\nHayfa was speechless. Under the light of the electric bulbs she looked like a fairy of the night. She was tall, with black-bluish long curled hair and eyebrows that resembled the restless wings of a swallow. Her lashes, heavy and curled gave her eyes an astonishing shape. Her clean dark complexion, her oval face, had divine beauty in them. Dimples in her cheeks made her face irresistibly charming. And the final perfect and astonishing sign of beauty was her eyes with an unreal shade of sparkling green. This was what everyone could see when she walked down the street, in the market place or when she took the two goats to graze on the roadside. Hayfa listened to Omar; she was silent and embarrassed but in the end answered:<\/p>\n
\u2018Alright, I\u2019ll tell mother to receive your visit.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018And you, what can you tell me, Hayfa?\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Nothing, for now, but I\u2019ll leet you know tomorrow. I\u2019ll come by the hotel and do a recording. If you like how I sing I\u2019ll do it.\u2019<\/p>\n
\nOmar was not sure he had understood her; was Hayfa really saying that she would come?<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Hayfa, did you say that you agree to singing at the hotel?\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Yes, wasn\u2019t that what you asked me? But we have to make a recording, don\u2019t we?\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Whatever you say!\u2019 Omar began worrying but he did not add anything more. He said goodbye to Haifa and went to his car. He had waited for a long time for a chance to talk to her, he could wait a few more hours! The thought that she might not come or would not agree to sing at the hotel, saddened him. Hayfa used that night to think things over. She thought a lot about how her life might be from then on; and not only her life, but her mother\u2019s too.<\/p>\n
\nThe next day, she did the recording as she had agreed. The audition was a great success. Omar excused himself for a few minutes and Hayfa did not know what to believe. But in his loneliness he understood the nature of his fear. Hayfa\u2019s beauty troubled him deeply. Still, he had nothing to be afraid of. Hayfa was already in love with him, only the feeling had not taken shape. Omar returned to the recording studio. He thanked her for her effort and for keeping her word by coming there. Of course, the most difficult part was yet to come. In the evening she had to sing in front of an audience. Omar called the receptionist and sent her out to buy the most beautiful and elegant dresses and accessories for Hayfa\u2019s recital that evening. When she was ready Hayfa looked like the queen of Sheba \u2013 a mythical kingdom that was said to have been located somewhere between Ethiopia and Yemen. It is important to remember that the restaurant was always crowded. Nevertheless, Hazy was very confident. The white marble staircase awaited her steps. Drawn in by her picture displayed in the show windows outside and by various posters throughout the town, people had taken the place by storm. There was nowhere to sit or stand. Loud ovations greeted Hayfa as she appeared. Her gown was spectacular. The long green dress of shining atlas faithfully outlined her sculptured body. It matched her earrings perfectly but even more her large deep-green eyes. The green buttons on the black nubuck shoes were made of the same material as the dress. It all spoke of perfection and unequalled beauty.<\/p>\n
\nWhen she started down the stairs towards the hall, the public stood up in waves. She was astonished but continued with great elegance, preserving noble poise. When notes announced her entrance, Hayfa built up the suspense with a moment of silence and then all of a sudden burst into song. Her strong, ample voice in perfect harmony with the acoustics of the hall made the crowd go wild. People were ecstatic and unable to control themselves. It was decided that Hayfa should leave the stage. As if to order, a ladder came down from the dome. As for security reasons, Hayfa could not return to the stage right away, the bars were immediately opened so people could buy sweets and mineral water. Back in her dressing room, Hayfa decided to change her outfit. An equally beautiful white lace dress, tight and long, with shining rhinestones and a deep cut that stopped above her knee replaced the green dress. White high-heeled shoes were the finishing touch to Hayfa\u2019s outfit. Her long black hair coming down to her waist added charm to this most perfect creature a man had ever seen. Nevertheless, time was passing and Hayfa could still not return to the stage as the situation might have degenerated into something worse.<\/p>\n
\nAfter an hour applause, screams and even some fainting, Omar appeared on the stage and announced that because of the audiences somewhat inappropriate behaviour, Hayfa was feeling unwell. He asked that the show to be rescheduled for the next day, at the same time. It was difficult to make the public understand and accept this. Nevertheless, though some had difficulty in getting out, it did not take long for the hall to be emptied. And with that, Hayfa\u2019s first recital ended.<\/p>\n
\nSamira, Hayfa\u2019s mother, had been waiting for hours next to the gate.<\/p>\n
\u2018What are you doing here, mother? Shall we go in?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018I was anxious, my darling. How did it go\u2026?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Bad!\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Oh\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018No, mother, please don\u2019t worry. It\u2019d have been great if people had kept calm, but they didn\u2019t. It\u2019s so difficult to calm a crowd down when they\u2019re already agitated. Omar has had to postpone my recital until tomorrow. It\u2019s generally accepted that I\u2019ll not sing in the great hall every night. There\u2019s no way I\u2019ll sing in the Venetian mirrors hall or in the performance hall – that\u2019s yet to be arraigned. And there you have to dress up, buy a ticket and pay extra which includes food menu. Unable to understand, Samira looked at Hayfa for a few moments and then asked her if she would always be singing in in two different places.<\/p>\n
\nNo, mother, I\u2019ll only sing in one place, in the Venetian mirrors hall or the performance hall, which is owned by Omar and which he rents for the moment. If I sing there, the hall will be permanently open and in this way there\u2019ll be scheduled shows. In the great hall, where everybody has access, I\u2019ll only sing tomorrow, does that make it clearer?\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018I think so. There are two halls, right?\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Yes, plus the performance hall. It\u2019s almost certain that that\u2019s where I will sing.\u2019<\/p>\n
\nSamira did not ask anything else. She knew Hayfa was tired and she would have liked to see her go to sleep. She left the room silently.\u00a0 She sat down on the couch in the living room. Memories swept her away. She had met George when she was Hayfa\u2019s age. They had fallen in love immediately and married in secret, going against his family\u2019s wishes. George had just graduated from the Civilian Marine Institute. They hid from his parents for a long time but some things are just meant to happen and so one day had bumped into them in the market place. Both were hard people who refused to return smiles, even to a child.<\/p>\n
\nGeorge\u2019s mother came straight towards them and looking at George with a cold look she pointed towards Samira and asked:<\/p>\n
\u2018George, who\u2019s this person?\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Mother, this person, as you call her, is my Mrs. Petrescu. My wife.\u2019<\/p>\n
\nMrs. Eleonora Petrescu\u2019s eyes opened wide, bulging outward, she turned pale and fainted on the pavement that had been sprinkled a few moments before.<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Mother, stop the drama, please. We know each other too well. You faint every time there\u2019s something you don\u2019t agree with. Please stop trying to blackmail me. I\u2019ll be there for you and the family, if that\u2019s what you want. If not, until you realize that this is the only way, you\u2019ll be alone; just you and dad who you\u2019ve been blackmailing all your life. The only difference is that he accepts being blackmailed willingly while I\u2019m not taking anymore. Good bye.\u2019<\/p>\n
\nGeorge returned to Samira, protectively placing his arm round her shoulders and they left together to look at other stalls. He did not look back. He was sure that his mother was fine. That was how she had done everything in life. Every now and then, Samira looked back to see if George\u2019s parents were still in the marketplace but she could not see them anymore.<\/p>\n
\nAt one o\u2019clock in the night the phone started ringing and ringing. Samira answered; it was George\u2019s father. He was crying. Samira could not understand a thing he was saying.<\/p>\n
\u2018I can\u2019t hear you very well, Mr. Petrescu, please speak up.\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018My dear, your mother-in-law, Eleonora, has just died in the hospital from a heart attack. Please tell George, will you?\u2019<\/p>\n
\nHe hung up. Samira started trembling with no reason and though their bed was by the window she started rummaging away in a wardrobe drawer, crying as she told George to get there quickly.<\/p>\n
\n\u2018My dear, would you be kind enough as to turn off all the lights except one of the reading lamps on the nightstands so I can get some sleep? Please.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018George, you can\u2019t sleep anymore.\u2019<\/p>\n
\u2018Why, is it already morning?\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018No, Eleonora suffered a heart attack, I mean she died, what I mean\u2026 is that\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Samira, I know that my mother is somewhat harsh, I don\u2019t like that about her either, but please, let\u2019s go to bed and we\u2019ll be laughing tomorrow, even about her.\u2019<\/p>\n
\n\u2018No, George, get up. Your mother really died a few minutes ago in the hospital.\u2019<\/p>\n
\nAt that moment instant George sprang out of bed without a word and went straight to the bathroom, returning dressed. He kissed her and said:<\/p>\n
\n\u2018Don\u2019t worry, nothing\u2019s going to happen. It\u2019s nobody\u2019s fault. Neither your\u2019s or mine.\u2019<\/p>\n
\nAs she heard him, she began doubting if he had any serious feelings for his mother. The he said something amazing to her:<\/p>\n
\u2018You should know that I loved her very much!\u2019<\/p>\n
\nShe believed him. That was George, trustworthy. When he returned from the hospital he told her that they had already taken his mother home and that the required Christian rites had to be performed in order to bury her two days later. George did not cry but she noticed his face only showed indifference. She believed his guilt had only lasted for the few minutes of their discussion. Samira fell asleep remembering these important moments from her life with George, who she had loved more than anything in this world.<\/p>\n
\nAs dawn broke, Hayfa woke up. She could not sleep anymore so she decided to get up and prepare breakfast. Samira was still asleep but Hayfa knew she was worried and tired so she let her sleep on. That is why she was dreaming about a bright future, when she would fulfil all her mother\u2019s wishes. They had never had more that they needed but never lacked anything either. For as long as she could remember, Samira had worked an operator in a big vegetable preservation factory. The wages were good or better, it was enough to ensure Hayfa and she made a decent living. The big white house with its front steps and massive doors was incredibly beautiful. In front of it, was a beautiful flower garden with walkways and different types of fruit trees. After the death of her foster parents, Samira never neglected the house. They always took pride in it. The two goats were yeanlings from when a woman from a village a few kilometres away had brought them to sell them in the market place. But for completely unknown reasons the woman had never came back for them. so the goats stayed with them, which made Hayfa very happy. For the past three years she has been taking care of them, taking them grazing, and though she had asked around about their owner, no one came back.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
by Florentina\u00a0 Cr\u0103ciun Fabiola [Romania] translated by Graham Mummery & Dorina Burcea [MTTLC student] pentru versiunea rom\u00e2n\u0103 click aici \u00a0 Hayfa was a beautiful half-Turkish, half-Romanian girl. Being an orphan at a young age, her mother, Samira, had been adopted by a Romanian family. She was given a good education but unfortunately she lost them […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[436,22],"tags":[483,1145,1123,480,486,403,1116,312],"class_list":["post-3313","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-25","category-short-story","tag-dorina-burcea","tag-egophobia-25","tag-english","tag-florentina-craciun-fabiola","tag-graham-mummery","tag-mttlc","tag-short-story","tag-translation"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s6DakB-haifa","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3313","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3313"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3313\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3551,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3313\/revisions\/3551"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3313"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3313"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3313"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}