Of Body And Soul (10 page)

He nodded in agreement and
drew her into his arms. He proceeded to undress her while he led her to the bathroom. "Why don't we take that hot bath now," he said, his arousal already beyond the point of control.

The tingling effects of their contact in
water spread through her like wildfire. He pressed every inch of her body to his in a primitive act of domination. The piston-driving strength of him possessed her and she passionately bowed to meet him.

With a fevered groan he exploded into ecstasy. Together,
sighs of satisfaction trembled through their bodies. "I love you, Andrea."

"And I love you, my darling."

As they helped each other dry off, the wonder of the last few days took hold. "You must be tired, Andrea. Do you want to lie down for awhile?"

"I think I will. Why don't we have dinner right here in our room? We could sit on the ba
lcony overlooking the gardens."

"Sounds good to me. I'll call down for a menu."

Neither one of them napped. They stayed in their robes and just relaxed. Dinner was served to them on the balcony as planned. The fountains, dressed in colored lights, danced to the music of a flutist.

The night, a scene from the Arabian Nights, brought them both into a dreamlike trance. The moonlight followed them into the room as it slanted through the doors and slipped onto their bed beckoning them to a night of rapture.

C
HAPTER FOURTEEN             

The smell of strong Turkish coffee brought Andrea out of her slumber. "Kurt, where are you?" she
called from the bedroom, as she grabbed her golden silk caftan, complements of the hotel.

"Follow the aroma and you'll find me."
She did as she was instructed to do. Kurt was on the balcony studying a tourist's map.

"You look lovely," he said, and he pulled out a chair for her. "Where did you get that gown?"
             

"It's a caftan, silly. There's one in the closet for you also." She stared at
the table. "What's all this?" She waved her hands at the table covered with fresh fruit, bread, cheese, tomatoes, honey and hard-boiled eggs. 

"When in
Turkey, do as the Turks do," he said, and poured her a cup of deep rich coffee.

Breakfast, or
kahvalti
, proved to be exceptionally good and also nourishing. "We should take this custom home with us. But we can do without the eggs," she smiled, and popped a piece of cheese into her mouth.

"While you were still asleep, I went downstairs and talked with Deniz. He gave me an itine
rary. We can go with a tour group, or head out on our own. I say we go it on our own."

"I agree.
" She looked over the printed computer sheet that came with a map of the city. Scanning the highlighted areas on the map, she saw that they were within walking distance to everything.

"Look, we can tour
Topkapi Palace and lunch at Topkapi Konyali Restaurant. Then," she said as she sat back and took a breath, "then, we could stroll along the Hippodrome, visit the Islamic Art Museum, see the Blue Mosque, visit the Mosaic Museum, and then visit the Carpet and Kilim Museums."

He watched as her finger ra
n from one highlighted area to another. "Hey, wait a minute, he laughed. We’re going to be here for two weeks. And . . . .”

“And what?”

“You've forgotten to leave time for our afternoon bath."

"I'd never forget that, my darling," she leaned over and kissed him soundly.
                           

"We'd better get going, or we'll never get to see all the things you want to see, Andrea."

As
they walked through the gardens of Sultanahmet Square, the renowned Blue Mosque stood before them. Andrea stood back and stared upward at the domes and half-domes that bubbled up from the street. "Aren't these the domes we saw from our hotel?" she said, enthusiastically. "Come on, Kurt." She entered through the North door and for a moment stood spellbound, intoxicated by the overwhelming size, majesty and splendor.

S
he quietly pulled her sketch pad from her Gucci bag and frantically sketched the symmetry of the interior. She wondered if she would ever be able to capture on canvas the bold blue color of the Iznik tiles. She returned to the courtyard to sketch the main dome, eight other domes and the six needle-like minarets that jutted toward the sky.

Engrossed in her attempt to capture this mosque, she never heard Kurt. "Andrea darling, you've been at it for an hour. I thought you wanted to visit the Carpet and
Kilim Museum."

"Can't we stay a little longer?"

"Not today." Kurt glanced at his watch. "We'll come back another day. I promise."

They walked hand in hand, their shadows ahead of them, long and slanted patterns against the concrete. All of a sudden, a third shadow walked with them. They turned to see a child, maybe five or six.
"Bir, bir,"
he begged.

"What does he want, Kurt?"

"He wants a dollar.
Bir
means one."

Andrea fumbled for the dollar bills she'd stashed in the bag before they left the hotel.

"I don't think you should give it to him, Andrea."

"Oh, Kurt. Why not? He's only a baby." She finally dug out a bill and handed it to the child. In two seconds flat, like flies descending upon uncovered food at a picnic, a group of children su
rrounded her, shouting
"Bir"
and held out their tiny dirty hands.

Kurt shook his head. "See what happens."

They walked quickly, as they tried to escape the begging children. Their quick pace turned into a run with the children at their heels shouting for money. Breathless, they reached the hotel and the doorman had to get Deniz, to go out and tell the children to disband. Kurt knew from experience that if he didn’t address the situation now, the children would haunt them when they left for dinner.

After hot showers and some nap time, they dressed and
walked over to the Sarnic Restaurant. The dark came over them as a cloud reached out and tussled with the moon for possession of the night.

"It can get frightening, walking down these narrow streets," Andrea said, as she gripped Kurt's arm tightly.

“Don’t think about that. Think about the wonderful dinner we just experienced.”

When they returned to the hotel, Andrea kicked off her shoes and dove for the bed. "I'm e
xhilarated and tired at the same time," she said.

Ku
rt sat on the bed beside her and took her in his arms. "I hope the pictures I took of you today catches your excitement."

She smiled and took his hand and kissed it. "Lie with me,
” she said.

"
Seni seviyorum
, I love you, Andrea and I'm happy I chose Istanbul for our honeymoon. The extravagant hospitality the Turks bestow on visitors is overwhelming."

"What amazes me is the way the
men treat their women, and yet they're extremely respectful to foreign women."                           

"They'd better be," he said, and proceeded to remove her
dress. "It's no wonder the population is so large. This city is the most exotic and erotic city I've ever been in," he said, as his hands massaged the satiny planes of her stomach. 

Wordlessly, she rolled over and let him undress her completely.

The rest of the week was a maze of elaborate churches, astonishing museums and dra
matic mosques until he surprised her with cruise reservations.             

As they sailed along the Turkish coast, Kurt watched Andrea sketch the old citadels and r
emains of projecting sunken ruins. “I’m happy you had pre-booked this boat excursion,” she said.

"Spectacular
isn’t it? Look to your right, Andrea."

"It's unbelievable how we can stay on board the Blue Cruise while the hilltop castles, beautiful
beaches and delicious food deliver themselves to us."

"That's why I planned the cruise at the end of our honeymoon.
We’ll have one more day at the hotel and the next day we’ll leave for the US. We’ll be well rested when we get home."             

On the last day of their honeymoon, they decided to breakfast in their
hotel room and enjoy the morning. "Kurt, I see you decided to wear your caftan."

He smiled, "It's extremely comfortable. What do you think?
”

"Very becoming," she said, and kissed him. "I'm going out on the balcony for awhile."

Andrea stood on the balcony, overlooking the marketplace which was sunbathed in dazzling light. Her pose was that of a woman lost in thought. She scanned the crowd of veiled housewives, pushy tourists, and colorful merchants. The merchants chanted as they threw items into the tourist’s faces hoping to entice them to buy a silk scarf, earrings, even bolts of cloth.

Once in a while, a
tourist paused to examine a copper vase or kettle which glittered in the sunlight. Immediately, the other hawkers held up their products and chanted the reasons why their items should be purchased, and not the merchant with whom they had been dealing. Andrea watched as a woman haggled with the same merchant she had haggled with, over a bolt of exquisite red silk. The woman walked away, only to come back a few minutes later with a guide who obviously spoke Turkish. Andrea knew the merchant would have a cup of tea waiting for the woman in order to delay her and prolong the haggling.

It was a game both the
tourist and merchant enjoyed. Everyone looked forward to the ritual. Andrea watched and could almost hear the transactions occur. Her hands were buried deep in the pockets of her golden silk caftan, as she fixed her gaze on some distant point beyond the crowd.

Children were running between the vendors, snatching anything their little hand
s could grab. The group of five or six boys, between the ages of eight and ten, ran frantically along the rows of vendors. As they ran by, she could hear the warning being passed down from merchant to merchant.

"The little thieves are coming. Watch out for them," they shouted.
              The Turks loved children, and it looked to be a game of some sort. She'd watched this go on, day after day. But, today it seemed different. It looked like a stage performance of sorts.

The children milled around and then formed a circle around the main character, a tall pe
rson, maybe eighteen or twenty years old. By the way the man waved his hands, and the movements of the children, it looked as if a director was telling his characters to take their places.

From her vantage
point it looked as if something big was about to happen. She scanned the crowd again and saw the police surround the area of the marketplace. Her first impulse was to scream and warn the children or run out to warn them, but she didn’t. She held back by a slim limit of control and tried to imagine, as they ran through the crowd stealing from the merchants and tourists, how it must be, wondering if one's life would survive to adulthood in this place.

The children had to feel the intense rays of the sun beat down on them, as it sucked the energy out of every p
ore of their already thin bodies. She wondered if they would have any chance to better themselves. If an education was at all possible, and if they had parents to love them and to love in return.

Preoccupied with the children, she didn't hear the click of Kurt
's sandals hit the marble floor as he walked up behind her. She was totally unaware of his presence, until he pressed his silk clad body against hers and kissed the back of her neck.

"What are you staring at?" he asked huskily, as he continued to press deeper into her.

"Look, look over there." She pointed to the group of children, with the tall man standing in the center. She shivered and hugged her arms about herself.

"Andrea, darling, come back inside. Don't let what you see affect you like this. They are street urchins. I k
now how you feel about children. That's why, on the way over, I gave you a lecture on what you'd see. Don't watch anymore, if it's going to do this to you." He rubbed his body against hers. "Come darling, come on inside."

"Oh, Kurt, I'm so happy our children will have so much more."

He stepped slightly away from her, and then realized what he'd done.

She turned to him and saw the tense lines drawn across his face and knew it was because
of what she had said.

Kurt
gave her a cold look, turned and entered the cool and quiet sitting room. He dropped onto a pile of over-stuffed cushions and closed his eyes . . .
she's so different here.
  He knew it had to be because of the unfamiliar surroundings and especially because of the children. He couldn't wait until they were safely back in the States and in their comfortable and cozy home.  As he sat completely absorbed in his own thoughts, he never heard Andrea enter the room to retrieve her pencils and sketch pad. She stood before Kurt a moment, and felt her love for him engulf her.
I'm sorry Kurt,
she thought to herself,
but I must sketch this scene of the children before we leave.