Mutlu// let's be happy

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M U T L U

[let's be happy]

It was a few weeks after the intensive care on Nazım's right foot had finished. The doctors had told him the wound healed enough, and swelling had decreased, and that he was lucky it hadn't gotten to anything worse. Something was telling him that he wasn't lucky; he was just blessed.

Anne, Ayla, and her instructor had stayed with him since then, and Nazım would hear Ayla describing what happened with him every day to his mother while the instructor explained the basics of what happened in medical terms he could only vaguely understand.

Ayla, however, had a different way of carrying herself when it was just her and Nazım talking. He didn't hear any fear in her voice when she spoke, but she was quiet. She was thoughtful. The instructor was always hovering around in their conversations, as was his mother, but he sometimes never noticed their presence.

"I don't know what I keep getting myself into," he said with a hint of irony in his voice.

Ayla let out a deep breath; not really saying anything. She looked down at her shoes.

"Just lots and lots of trouble," he continued.

Ayla smirked to herself. "So nothing's really changed, huh?"

A beat, and then he said, "no, I don't think so."

"It's all for good reason, I think," she told him. Nazım looked up at her, and saw her give him a reassuring nod. "I know you wouldn't risk all these injuries for the sake of showing off. That's not the you I knew."

"Knew?" he asked in slight bewilderment. "What do you mean? What changed?"

"I know for sure you're Muslim," she commented, and he laughed. It sounded like she was joking, and she was, but there was truth in the statement. Nazım didn't think anyone from Arabah who grew up with him to guess that off the bat. "Plus, you don't look the same."

"I think it's the bruises," he said, but Ayla only smiled and shook her head at that.

"You don't look the same either," he remarked, and saw Ayla stiffen. "You got taller."

"Of course," she said it like it was obvious. He saw her shoulders relax. "Hey, you'll do me one favor, right?" she asked.

Nazım nodded. "Anything for someone who acknowledges my religious identity." Ayla snickered, keeping her mouth covered but she collected herself right away.

"Do us all a favor and please don't do anything to get yourself into this kind of trouble again," she said earnestly. "I--we, want you to live longer, alright?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ayla biting on her bottom lip, probably thinking she shouldn't have said the first part of her sentence. But he was glad for some reason. "I'll do just that," he said. "But if I do get into some accident, you'd better be a doctor by then. The person in charge; so I know I'm in good hands."

"It's a deal, then," she agreed.

During this time he was stuck in the hospital, he used a cane to keep his balance, and always walked around the building. He befriended some of the older patients there, even surprising himself. He didn't really know he liked old people, now that he thought of it. They were always the ones giving him dirty looks in Arabah. This time it was weird to see them smiling at him, and inviting him to have actual conversation with him that didn't involve him getting expelled from anywhere or breaking bones.

It was refreshing to just talk about the recent news, or even just the weather. They carried a lot of wisdom he was surprised they even had, and he learned quite a bit from them. He got background on the country in the early mid-1900's, when Mustafa Kemal Atatürk had led a rebellion and became president of the then new republic.

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