Ela trudged up the steps of Green’s apartment building.  It was five stories tall, just about the maximum that a builder of a residential property could construct without putting in an elevator.  Green lived on the top floor.  Buildings in Turkey were generally constructed without any real insulation and the top floor would be hit by the weather the hardest; hotter in the summer, colder in the winter.  Green maintained that he liked being on the top floor since the act of coming home would force him to do a bit of exercise and he wouldn’t have to hear the footsteps of people on the floor above him.  Ela suspected it was simply the best he could find in his price range.

She knocked on his door.  It quickly swung open, Green was there with a furious look on his face “If you…” he started but then stopped himself.

“If I what?”  Ela asked.

“Nothing, nothing.  I’m sorry Ela; I thought you were somebody else.  Come on in.”  Ela stepped inside his little foyer.  She removed her shoes and put on a pair of slippers he had for guests.  They were several sizes too big but good enough.

“Who did you think I was?”

“I’ve had a hell of a day.”  Was Green’s nonresponse.  They went into his living room.  It was a mishmash of furniture that Green had acquired second hand from “spot shops.”  Green appeared to be in the process of doing some ironing.  A large pile of wrinkled shirts sat on the couch, a couple of ironed ones on the armchair.  Green’s iron was an old clunker that poured out steam, almost enough to turn the room into a hamam.  “Please sit down, do you want a cup of tea?”  Ela sat down next to the pile of clothes on the couch, Green picked up his ancient iron to resume his work.

“No tea for me.”  Ela looked out the window.  The sun was setting over the rooftops of other apartment buildings.  The buildings were like Green’s furniture.  They were all different ages, some with clear signs of wear even from a distance, and no connection or compatibility in style; in a word, ugly.  Yet with the sun at their backs the apartment blocks probably looked their best.  Even though it was slowly getting dark outside, Green hadn’t turned on the lights; Turks tended to be highly conscientious of their electricity bills.  “Who did you think I was?”  Ela asked again.

“I’ve had a hell of a day.”  Green repeated.  He didn’t look at Ela as he spoke; he was too focused on his ironing.  “So this morning I had this village girl come by to clean the place up.”  Ela knew that Green probably didn’t actually have a village girl but someone from a poor neighborhood who dressed like a villager.  “She did a good job, you should have seen it in here before.”  Ela supposed that aside from the pile of shirts the apartment was neat and tidy.  “Here’s the thing though, she got a little carried away on some points, particularly my front door.  To get the thing really clean she actually took it off its hinges.  Can you believe that?  That’s how seriously she took her work.  But here’s the thing, she couldn’t get it back on properly!  I can’t get the door to lock; you could have just walked in here if you wanted.  I’ve called a locksmith about three times asking him to come over, he says he will, yet here I stand with a busted door.”

“So you thought I was going to be the locksmith then?”  Ela asked.

“I wish that was it, unfortunately I thought you were someone less welcome than the locksmith.”  Green shook his head as he ironed.  “There’s this guy, says he wants to write a book about me.”

“Interesting.”

“No, it’s not interesting.  It’s psycho.  I can’t get rid of him.  I thought it was bad when I saw him on the street.  Now he’s coming into my apartment.  Just walks right through the busted door.  When I tell him to get out he claims he has ‘rights of biographer’ whatever that’s supposed to mean.” 

“Why don’t you give him an interview?”  Ela suggested “That might satisfy his curiosity.”

“I’m not giving him anything.  He’s not a real author and it doesn’t make any sense to want to write a book about me.  I’m not famous or anything.”

“Umm Green, is there someone out on your balcony?”

At this Green looked up from his ironing “What?”

“I thought I just saw someone out on the balcony, peeking inside.”  Ela explained.

Green put down his iron and went out to the balcony door.  He stepped outside and exclaimed “You!”  Ela could not see who he had found.  Green bent down, when he stood back up Ela could see that he was gripping a disheveled man.  The man had bad bed hair, a mismatched suit and was tightly gripping a notebook and pen.  “I’ve warned you about coming in here!”

“Green!”  The disheveled man exclaimed “Green, Green, Green, Green.”  His intonation fluctuated each time he said Green’s name.  It was as if he was trying to explain his presence but the only word he could get out was “Green.”  Green was not amused.  He punched the disheveled man in the nose.  The man touched his nose; a small bit of blood had trickled out.  “Green?”  He said, which seemed to have the meaning of “How could you do this to me?”  Green gave him three more quick punches to the nose.  Ela had seen Green angry before, but she had never seen him driven to this level of violence.  Green dragged the man through his apartment to the front door.  “You see that iron over there?”  Green pointed to his old clunker.  “The next time I catch you in here I’m going to smash that into your face.”  With that said Green opened the door, punched the man’s broken nose one more time and threw him out.

Ela had remained seated this entire time, not wanting to get involved in their dispute.  An exasperated Green walked back over to resume his ironing.  “That was your would-be-biographer then?”  Ela asked.

The disheveled man poked his head back in the apartment “I have the rights of biographer!”  He exclaimed.  Green held up his iron in the most menacing possible manner.  The disheveled man quickly went back out.  

“Does that answer your question?”  Green said to Ela.  He went over to his door to close it again.  It wouldn’t close.  Green tried pushing the door as hard as possible into the frame; it just swung open the moment he let up the pressure.  “Oh, great.  First it won’t lock, now it won’t even shut.”  He gave up on the door and went back to his ironing.   “The guy is a nut right?”  He asked Ela.  “I mean have you ever heard of such a thing as the rights of biographer?”

“No, I haven't,” Ela admitted.  “Look Green, you’ve obviously got a lot going on right now, so I don’t want to take up much of your time.  You said that you had something you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh right that.”  Green recalled “Listen it’s about the new color…”

“Oh Green, Green please don’t be so cruel!”  Exclaimed a woman that had just walked through the busted front door.  There were two heavy set women; they looked to be a mother and daughter.  “Don’t be so cruel, Green!”  The mother cried.  She wore a headscarf and a trench coat.  The coat wasn’t worn because of the weather but out of modesty—designed to cover her womanly form male eyes.  What the mother had in modesty the daughter completely lacked.  She wore a slinky backless cream dress that demonstrated a high level of confidence.

“Aww, now what?  Get out of here, this is a private apartment.”  Green ordered them.  They ignored him and walked right in and squeezed in on the couch next to Ela.  

“Please” the mother sobbed “Give my boy Kutay back to me please.”

“I don’t know any Kutay.  I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Get out.”

“My boy Kutay, he wants to write a book about you.  But you’re so cruel to him.  Please give him back to me.”

Green collapsed into the armchair on top of his freshly ironed shirts.  “Your son is that nut who thinks he’s my biographer?  Lady, you can have him.”

“You’re being so cruel!”  The mother cried.  “I want my Kutay back.”

“You’re not listening to me.  You can have your Kutay.  Please take him home and tell him not to come here anymore.”  Green replied.  The mother just sobbed.

“Perhaps I should explain.”  Offered the younger woman “I’m Kutay’s girlfriend.”    Ela had assumed they were mother and daughter because of their ages and weights but now Ela realized that the two women sharing the couch with her actually looked nothing alike.  “He’s determined to write a book about you.  What did you do to Kutay to make him want to write this book?”

Green seemed angrier now than he did when he found Kutay on the balcony.  “What?  I didn’t do anything.  He’s nuts.”

The girlfriend stood up and positioned herself directly in front of Green.  “Oh please Evergreen.” She bemoaned.  Ela blinked, she’d never heard him called “Evergreen” before.  The girlfriend reached back and pulled loose a knot behind her neck, her dress fluttered to the floor.  She stood before Green wearing just a skimpy pair of panties.  Kutay’s girlfriend was about the same height as Ela but she looked to be a good 15 kilograms heavier.  Ela supposed that the girlfriend carried the weight well though; she was all tits and ass.

The girlfriend kneeled on top of Green, who no longer seemed angry.  Now Green seemed very unsure of what was going on but he was no longer agitating to be rid of them.  Kutay’s mother just kept sobbing; she didn’t seem to notice what was going on in front of her.  Green’s overactive iron filled the air with steam.

Kutay’s so-called girlfriend leaned in close, her massive breasts pressing against Green’s chest, and into his ear she said:

O most noble Evergreen you who take root in the sun

And who shine in radiant tranquility on the wheel

Whom no Earthly excellence surpasses 

You are enfolded in the embraces of divine mysteries

You glow like the dawn and burn in the flame of the sun

Ela had heard that poem before, but she couldn’t place it at the moment.  Green seemed to enjoy hearing it, or to be enjoying her presence on his lap anyway, he was firmly gripping her fleshy ass with both hands.  The girlfriend nuzzled his head.

“Alright, I think I’m going to leave, let you all work out... this.”  Ela said as she stood.  She didn’t want to be part of whatever was going on here.  Everyone ignored her.  Kutay’s mother went on crying.  Kutay’s girlfriend went on nuzzling against Green.  Green went on grabbing the girlfriend’s ass.  Ela went over and put her shoes on; she was just about to go out through the busted door when the self-declared biographer Kutay barged in again.  However, this time there were no declarations of ‘Rights of biographer’ instead he stood there in stunned silence.  Ela supposed seeing your girlfriend in flagrante will have that effect.

“Kutay!” His mother proclaimed joyfully.  She went and put kisses all over his face.

“Mama stop.”  Kutay whined.

Kutay’s girlfriend jumped off Green and hustled over to Kutay.  “Baby I missed you!” she proclaimed, elbowing his mother aside so she could kiss him.  Kutay was stiff at first but seemed to relax into the kiss as saliva was exchanged.  She was still naked.

Kutay’s mom turned to Green.  “Thank you Evergreen.”  The girlfriend broke off the kiss to also give a nod of appreciation.

Ela gave a loud fake cough.  The girlfriend turned out to not be completely shameless, because at this she blushed and went and grabbed her dress.  Kutay and family exited the apartment.

“That was something else, hun?”  Green remarked.  Getting a lap dance seemed to have lifted his mood considerably.

“Yeah.”  Ela was rather annoyed by now.  “Do me a favor and don’t invite me over again.”  With that she went to make her own exit.

“Wait.”  Green objected.  “The thing I needed to tell you.  There’s a new color in your life.  You can’t see him again.  If you see him again eventually you’ll have to kill him.”

“I’ll have to do what?”  Ela had heard him; she just didn’t believe what she had heard.  There was a knock on the door.

“Hey do you hear that?”  Green asked “Someone actually bothered to knock on my busted door rather than just barging in.”