Give Me Your Hand's

Underground Work

A rhythmic music pop out of the loudspeakers located in every corner of the Istanbul Cafe room. Various kinds of chatter were heard at each table as if the voices were competing against each other to get into the ear hole.

The smell of pastry coming from an oven machine with a large size tickles every nasal cavity and plays the tongue of everyone in the kitchen. Confidently, a man wearing plastic gloves picked up his homemade baking sheet.

The black eye seeds were watching closely his work. Not for the first time, but there is a sense of satisfaction if he managed to please the tongue of his cafe visitors.

A pastry with a pile of five layers and a thickness of ten centimeters was right in front of him. The puff of smoke coming from the appetizer caressed her dark face.

The man took one piece of the pastry with an iron clamp, placed it on a small plate that was already available in the tray. A spoonful of powdered cheese is sprinkled on top of that layered cookie dough.

A woman wearing a white apron gave an oval-shaped glass bowl to the cafe owner. With his creation he filled the glass bowl with fruits, a shovel of chocolate ice cream and a sprinkling of cashews.

"Give this to table number ten!" yang Mehmet to one of his cafe employees.

After struggling in the kitchen, the man went out to his cashier's desk. He checked every visitor's order on the long map in black. It wasn't too late, but the cafe was full.

His pupils caught a familiar figure from childhood. A man wearing a white T-shirt and a checkered shirt on the outside came closer to him. Mehmet immediately came out of his cashier's desk and approached Kenan.

Kenan placed a small white paper on the visitor's desk and gave it to Mehmet.

"What's this?" the man's bare hands picked up the thin paper.

"Pay loan. This is only partly. I'll pay it off." Kenan rests his back on the back of a wooden chair. After repairing five ships, he was able to repay some of his debt to Mehmet. The installment has not reached half.

"I told you, I'm not a loan shark! Why are you forcing yourself?" Mehmet squeezed the proof of the transaction and threw it into a small trash can in the corner of the room.

"Don't pity me." Highlight Kenan's eyes stared at the hairless man with his row of white teeth.

"Well if that's what you want, are you here just to hand over the paper?" Hearing Mehmet's question, Kenan developed his smile.

"You know me well, buddy! I want some extra work to do at night! The job at the dock isn't always there every time."

Kenan put one of his hands on the table, while the other hand he used to drink whiskey without ice. The man always speaks straight to the point.

Mehmet looked at Kenan's face. A solemnity was in that face stroke. He rubbed his bare head, between sure and not sure if his best friend would do it.

"My underground business!" whispered Mehmet leaning his body in front of Kenan.

Those dark gray eye beads without shining. One of those thick eyebrows shot up. "You're still running that boxing business?"

Mehmet nodded his head. "If you really need money in a quick time."

"Interesting!" Kenan raised the corner of his lips. Boxing is not a foreign thing to him, he really likes the sport.

"But it's illegal. I suggest you don't take this path."

"Depends on how much they bet for their champion. Is it for that woman that you're knocking yourself out?" Mehmet shook his head. He is not out of thought with the way Kenan solves every problem. The man was too melancholic when it came to women.

"It's not just for him, but for myself. Am I going to hang on to my future just as a mechanic?" Kenan stared intently at his best friend. As if he was about to say how I can support others, if to support myself I have not been able to.

"All right, if that's what you want. Let's go there now!" take Mehmet out with Kenan.

The SUV stopped in front of a tall building with minimal lighting. There were only two small lights hanging on the three-meter high pole. Two large body guards full of tattoo crochets adorned each of their arms. The two men were standing guard at the door of Mehmet's fist gym. They were Mehmet's men.

The two guards greeted Mehmet and Kenan. The dark-skinned man patted the shoulders of his two men after the door of the gym made of wood was opened.

A minimal space of light was present in their eye fertilizers. They set their sights on the square-shaped boxing ring arena with four equally large corners. The light illuminated two men who were fighting over several pieces of paper which they called a means of payment.

"You see that big tattooed guy?" Mehmet pointed to one of the players in the boxing ring.

Kenan just cleared his throat, and looked at the man his friend meant.

"He's the defending champion this month. Almost all of his opponents were out in a state of broken bones or minor injuries. There are no rules in this place, you can fight to risk your life or give up and end up in the hospital" explained Mehmet. He didn't mean to scare Kenan, but that's the reality of fighting in an illegal boxing arena.

"Those crazy audiences will keep asking you to hit relentlessly, until their money runs out. This is their entertainment. If you win, all their money will be yours but if you lose no one will pay for your medical expenses! Especially your coffin!" seru Mehmet with emphasis.

Kenan's eyes were busy watching the defending champion's movements, but his ears caught Mehmet's every word. He wanted to find the weak point of the man they called the champion.

"When can I fight him?" Kenan's gaze could not be separated from the large tattooed man who was hitting the nape of his opponent's neck.

"When you're ready! I suggest you warm up first." Mehmet opened his palm in front of Kenan, they shook hands forming a deal.

The two men watched the boxing match until it was over. Some of the rich people who watched the game, raised the number of their bets. Just for the sake of venting their desire to see the brutality that was happening in the ring.

"What's your relationship with that woman?" suddenly Mehmet interrupted. Hopefully this time his best friend can find his soulmate who really loves him.

"We're just friends." Kenan answered briefly while continuing to pay attention to the two boxers who were competing.

"Don't sacrifice too much if the woman doesn't have any feelings for you" said Mehmet, who tried to remind his friend not to repeat his mistake.

Kenan laughed at Mehmet's advice. "Your words are like grandmothers. At least it's better, than my dad!"

Kenan's facial expression suddenly turned serious when he mentioned his father.

* CONNECTIVE *

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