The Black Tulip

Master Hyacinth

The next day, more customers crowd into the market, and a commotion stirs the crowd. An impressive-looking man dressed in a long robe and a sable coat, much like the winter coats worn by wealthy men back home, arrives with two other men trailing behind him. He is shaped like a pear and moves with a delayed, shuffling sway in pointed shoes, which makes him look a little comical. His skin is as smooth as a woman’s, without any beard or mustache, and a tall, pointed turban sits atop his head. Laleena doesn’t know who he is, but his clothing, his walk, and the way Madam Siranush fusses over him tell her he must be someone important.

Madam Siranush lines the girls up, and the man walks the row with a critical stare, studying each one from head to toe for a long time. Laleena both dreads and hopes he’ll look at her that way, too. Then, suddenly, he stops in front of her, and terror freezes her in place. He orders Laleena to smile, and his voice is startlingly high, girlish, and powerful all at once, so oddly matched to his bulk that Laleena can hardly believe it belongs to him.

She stretches the corners of her mouth, but he can tell instantly it isn’t real. He claims it’s not a smile, and repeats his order with a dramatic frown. He tells her life is precious, and she must smile as though she’s truly happy, not only with her lips but with her eyes, too, from the inside, the way a person smiles when she is having fun and feeling good.

Laleena doesn’t think she can manage a real smile, so far from home and about to be sold like property, but she remembers the poet from the day before, and despite herself, a genuine smile finds her face. The man is delighted. She has nice teeth, but her smile is even lovelier. His words remind her all over again exactly where she is and what is happening to her, and tears roll down her cheeks. He only brightens further, remarking that smile and tears are not so different after all and calling it a good omen that a girl knows how to do both.

The man turns to Madam Siranush to discuss terms. Laleena learns his name is Sümbül Ağa, Master Hyacinth, which strikes her as a funny name for such a strange-looking man, though despite his oddness she finds herself taking a liking to him already.

Madam Siranush’s eyes sparkle as she praises Laleena’s pearl teeth, her willowy walk, her eyes tinted with every color of autumn, calling her a gem and hinting she might not sell her at all. She grips Laleena’s shoulders, turning her around for a better view, and weighs the coin sack in her palm before tossing it back as too little. Master Hyacinth rebuffs her once, then doubles his offer. Back and forth they haggle, Madam Siranush laughing and pushing his money away with her hands. Laleena prays it will be Master Hyacinth and not Madam Siranush who claims her, though she has no idea who this man is or where he might take her. At last, the two settle on terms and the exchange is made, though Laleena has no idea what price was finally agreed upon.

She grabs her bundle and follows Master Hyacinth and his men out of Madam Siranush’s house and into a fine carriage drawn by two handsome black horses, its walls covered over except for the lattices, through which she can catch a breath of air. The horses start off, and the carriage rattles and sways as it carries her swiftly away, her curiosity growing with every turn of the wheels. Who are these odd, smooth-skinned men with such girlish voices? Where are they taking her, and what if it’s worse than anything she has imagined? And now that she’s been sold to Master Hyacinth, will she ever have a chance to see Lena again? Through the carriage’s lattices, she makes out the silhouettes of mosques and other buildings sliding past. She counts the beads of her tesbih, as she has done so often on this strange and frightening journey, and prays for kindness and good luck.