Once Upon a Time in Anatolia Page #4

We're going to Ceceli.

- Tevfik?

- Yes, Mr. Prosecutor?

Call the mayor.

Tell him the prosecutor's coming.

- Have him make tea and whatever.

- Right away, Mr. Prosecutor!

Bring him over.

Let me have a look.

Got a cigarette?

Did you say something?

Can I have a cigarette

if you've got one?

Sure.

Arab, give me a cigarette, will you?

- What's up, doctor?

- You light it.

- Thanks.

- Hang on, doctor! Don't give it to him.

What do you want

with that cigarette? Huh?

What do you want

with that cigarette?

I'm talking to you!

What do you want with it?

He wants a smoke. What else?

No, wait. You tell me, you!

What do you want with that cigarette?

Look, if you want a cigarette,

first you have to earn it.

Nothing comes for free anymore.

Look at the prosecutor.

The guy studied law, he's worked.

He can smoke

and he can give people hell.

Why? Because he's earned it.

What have you done?

Made idiots of us.

No, none of that.

No more free cigarettes.

We're tuned to another channel now.

Doctor, you don't know these guys.

They're such bastards

they'd rob you blind, the a**holes.

He's seen you're a pigeon.

He's plotting now as we speak.

It's over.

From now on, I'm talking

a different language to you.

Thanks.

Are they here? Esat!

Haci, come here.

Open the gates, quick!

Mukhtar my friend, the prosecutor.

- Hello, mukhtar.

- Welcome. Thanks for coming.

- How are you, mukhtar?

- Welcome, chief. Welcome.

Doctor, welcome.

Welcome, sergeant. Bless you.

Come on in!

It's so good of you to come.

Bless you. Really.

- Are the dogs tied up?

- They won't bite or anything.

Esat, hold him.

Come on.

He won't do anything.

- This way. Are you tired?

- Very.

- What's up at this time of night?

- An investigation.

- Really?

- Into an incident.

- Sorry, our visit is hardly timely.

- Not at all! It's an honor!

Yalin, don't hang around there!

In you go now!

Mr. Naci, doctor, in you go.

For heaven's sake, c'mon, sergeant.

In you go.

So, it takes a death to get you

to our village, Mr. Prosecutor?

True, the doctor came the other day

to vaccinate the babies, bless him.

But his thing's different.

Well, we'd come, mukhtar,

but we had to twist Arab's arm.

Why?

How do I know? He went on about

all the donkey people in the village.

- Whatever that means.

- You believe that nutcase, chief?

Ignore the nutcase. He never

stops talking, to himself as well.

If we start on him,

I could talk for hours.

His grandfather's nickname

was Cafer the Donkey Man.

- Really?

- Of course.

- Cafer what?

- Cafer the Donkey Man.

Arab, is that true?

Boss, my grandfather traded donkeys.

What else would his nickname be?

The guys here are another kind

of donkey men.

Ignore what he says, chief.

Arab's a decent fellow actually.

One of the family. We like him.

We gave him a bride from the village.

- Really?

- Yes. He's family.

What way is that to talk about

people from your wife's village?

- For some reason, Arab doesn't like us.

- Your wife's village? Shame on you!

What's likeable about the gossip hole?

You think I'd throw my arms round it?

- There's no smoke without fire.

- Just eat up, Tevfik, you ass-kisser.

Got any cola?

The lad wants cola.

There isn't any. Is ayran OK?

Cola? Give him water.

- Arab!

- Right, OK.

Mr. Prosecutor, we still haven't

sorted out that cemetery business.

- Sorry, I'm going to bore you now.

- Not at all.

Can you talk to the district governor?

He'll listen to you.

Sure, I'll talk to the governor,

but what's the business about?

It's nothing really.

We want to fix the cemetery wall

but just can't get the funding.

Well?

The wall's in ruins, so animals go

and sh*t there, pardon my language.

It's misery for the dead

and a nuisance for the villagers.

The main thing is to knock down

the outbuildings by the entrance...

...and build a nice morgue there.

It's been okayed by the village elders.

- Build what?

- A morgue. And a body-washing room.

A morgue with a body-washing room.

The project's ready,

the paperwork's all done...

...but we can't get started

without the contract or funding.

Mr. Naci, it's essential, believe me.

If we manage to pull it off, the village

will have a great masterpiece.

I swear to God, we don't know

what to do with the dead in summer.

- Why?

- They smell.

- Try burying them.

- Why wait? Bury them.

We would, but the village

has suffered from emigration.

- Emigration?

- There's only old folk left.

Now when brides and daughters

start phoning from Istanbul...

We have a lot of relatives in Germany.

They want to come and see the body.

You get them on the phone saying,

"Don't bury dad, I have to kiss him. "

Fine, but the man smells.

Where are you going to kiss him?

What can you say? You have to wait.

They haven't been back in 10 years,

but the parents are here.

Only old people are left.

It takes someone to die

before they think of the village.

When I say this, the gossip starts.

That's my real problem.

What do they say?

That I'll squander village money

on a morgue. As if there's any money!

It's only gossip of course,

God forbid.

My sons are doing all right,

thank the Lord.

I've raised them.

They've flown the nest.

The oldest is in the defense industry

in Kirikkale. He's doing fine.

I have two grandchildren there.

The second's a policeman in anakkale.

- Great.

- In Yenice.

A colleague for you, Izzet.

Next down is a girl.

We married her to a sergeant.

So we're doing all right.

The kids are all right.

But the villagers are dirt poor.

They aren't well off.

- How many terms have you done?

- This year, God willing...

...I'll be standing for a third term.

- Look at that!

I had absolutely no intention

of standing this time, believe me.

But the neighbors insisted.

You have a son?

- What, at home?

- You have a son?

- I told you, I have two. The first...

- Yes, in the defense industry.

There's no one left at home.

Just the wife and Sinan, bless him.

He helps out.

- Thanks, Mrs. Mukhtar. It was great.

- Thank you.

And there's number four,

the youngest girl, Cemile.

No one except her.

She's the last, an afterthought.

We manage, thank the Lord.

And when friends like you turn up,

it's an honor and delight.

But I tell you,

the meat is out of this world.

- Isn't it?

- It's lamb, right?

Lamb. It's all we eat, chief.

We only eat lamb at home.

- Some don't. They say it smells.

- They say that.

But lamb is the meat to eat.

- Why aren't you having any?

- I just have.

- Can't you fix the fellow a sandwich?

- I am, mukhtar. Don't worry.

Sure, we have to feed our main man.

- Thanks a lot.

- Enjoy it, Mr. Prosecutor.

- Doctor, that's pure comb honey.

- Comb honey?

- Right. A must for putting on bread.

- Mukhtar, it's delicious, really.

Could you spare me a small jar?

Sinan! Find a jar this size.

Clean it up, and get your aunt

to fill it with honey.

They'll pick it up when they go.

Don't hold back, for goodness sake.

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