A cold, gray sky drizzled moisture onto a gloomy scene at the Christian cemetery near the church. Boghos and a couple of teenagers from town dug a grave, while Megerdich supervised. The pile of dirt sat precariously by the edge of the hole. The four men walked back to the house to retrieve the body.
Shushawn was praying over Aghavni’s body when they arrived. “Are you ready?” she asked, hoping in a strange way that they were not.
“Yes,” replied Megerdich as he and the boys entered. The three young men lifted the body to shoulder height and proceeded out of the house. Shushawn stayed behind. Women did not attend funerals. Megerdich followed the procession to the cemetery. The ceremony was unusually short. A priest from across town agreed to help in Father Kezerian’s absence. There were many funerals, so he could only spend a short time at each.
The men lowered Aghavni into the grave. Large stones were placed on top of the body. Megerdich considered the sheet-wrapped body of his eldest son. He had lost two wives, an unborn daughter, and now this. He let out a short gasp as he took a handful of dirt from the pile and dropped it into his son’s grave, saying, “Ashes to ashes.” He grabbed another handful and let it fall. “Dust to dust.” And a third handful of dirt. “The Lord bless him and keep him. The Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace.” With each phrase, Megerdich seemed to slump a little lower.
The three boys then shoveled the rest of the dirt into the hole. Megerdich and Boghos walked back to the house in silence. The teenagers stayed in the graveyard to help other families bury their loved ones.
It was traditional to have a party after a burial. Friends and relatives of the deceased would gather for an extravagant feast and dance long into the night. But things were not normal in Bayburt. Every Armenian family was trying to determine what happened to the men who had been taken during the night. Most had at least one funeral of their own to organize.
While Aghavni was being buried, Shushawn, Emma, and Rosmerta prepared a meal for the men. They knew that it would be a small gathering. The rest of their family had left town and everyone else they knew had their own problems. Even so, the tonir was covered with the traditional funeral fare of kidney beans, as well as bread, consommé, savory pies, fish, pheasant, artichokes, salads, and fruits.
But when Megerdich and Boghos were nearing home, there was a big commotion. Instead of entering the house for the feast, Megerdich told the women to follow him out. They all headed towards the town center with the rest of Bayburt.
Most news arrived in Bayburt through a makeshift network of rumors and hearsay. Much of this information turned out to be inaccurate. People usually didn’t mind the falsehoods; gossip was a source of intrigue and entertainment. But there was an official source of news that people relied upon, especially in times of distress. So when the town crier, Ibosh Assad, was seen walking towards the town center, word spread quickly, and a large crowd began to assemble. The entire gathering fell silent the moment Ibosh raised his hand and began to speak.
The war, it seemed, was going well. There had been a minor break in the Turkish lines and the Russian army was approaching the area. Nothing the great Turkish army couldn’t handle, but Bayburt would soon be engulfed in conflict. For the safety of the citizens, everyone was being evacuated to secure areas away from the fighting.
“The Armenians will be evacuated first,” Ibosh explained. “The Armenian men have already been taken to the secure zone, where they are setting up new homes for your families. In seven days, those of you who are still in Bayburt will be transported to join them. Each family should prepare a list of the property and possessions you will have to leave behind. Those lists should be delivered to the town hall, and arrangements will be made to compensate you for what you cannot take with you. When you arrive at your new homes, each family will receive a parcel of land, housing, agricultural equipment, seed grain, and supplies necessary to get started. The journey will take three days. Plan and pack accordingly.”
“A week to prepare for leaving our entire lives behind? It’s not enough!” someone shouted.
“Perhaps you would like to stay behind and explain that to the Russians,” Ibosh responded.
“What about the Muslims? Why can they stay?”
“The process of evacuating Bayburt will take time. We must begin somewhere, and we will begin with the Armenians. You have one week to prepare. I suggest you use it wisely,” Ibosh said, as he pushed his way through the crowd. Many questions followed him. He kept walking and repeating, “One week.”
“Well, that’s not bad,” said Shushawn. “We have a week to get ready, three days of travel, then we get a new farm and get back to work. A hassle, but not too bad.”
“Shushawn, they stormed into our home unannounced and killed your husband,” Megerdich pointed out. “They took Hagop and Papken. Would any of that have been necessary if the evacuation story was true? You can’t possibly believe they will give us a new home.”
“Then what are they going to do with us?”
Megerdich just shook his head and looked away. “I don’t know.”
“None of us know,” said Adelina, “but we need to prepare for a journey, so let’s prepare. I’ll start making the bread.”
The bread was hard biscuits. There were still a few peaches left over from last year’s crop. Megerdich told Adelina to make sandwiches. She said it was too soon, but he insisted. Sometimes it was just easier to do as Megerdich said, even if it didn’t make sense.
Boghos went back to his old house to scrounge for anything useful he could find. He found nothing. His mother had been quite thorough when she packed.
When he returned to the Bedrosians, Boghos helped Megerdich repair a cart so they would have something to transport their supplies. There were constant disagreements about what should stay and what should go. The big, black kettle had been in the family for as long as anyone could remember. It had served them well and Shushawn insisted it had to go with them. Adelina was equally convinced that they needed to travel light, and this huge kettle was too heavy for such a trip. The kettle’s weight did not keep either woman from moving it into and back out of the “to go” pile each time the other left the room.
Over the next two days, there were many such arguments about what to bring and who would be responsible for carrying it. On the third day, word came that the Armenians would not be allowed to take their animals. Without the mule to pull the cart, the kettle issue was resolved. Adelina helped Rosmerta load the kettle onto the repaired cart and harnessed it to the mule. Rosmerta headed into town to sell the kettle. After about an hour with no luck, she walked past the Kasaba boys.
Ahmet seemed amused. “Why would we buy anything from you? Next week it will be ours for the taking.” He laughed explosively as he walked away, leaving Abdullah alone with Rosmerta.
Abdullah fidgeted nervously and looked everywhere except at Rosmerta. “I need to talk with you,” he said.
“Okay,” she said, trying to meet his eyes as he scanned the horizon behind her.
“I’m sorry about all that stuff at the wedding.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” She considered adding some thoughts about whose fault it was, but decided against it.
“I’m sorry about the deportation stuff, too.”
“That’s not your fault either.”
“I know, but it isn’t right.”
“Sorry Abdullah, I’m kind of busy. I really need to get ready.” She couldn’t bring herself to say, “to leave.”
“Oh yeah, right. Well, it’s just that… I mean, I was wondering… We have plenty of room, and it’s not going to be easy for you to travel and… Well, I would take care of you, and my father said it would be okay—before he died, I mean—and my mother… Well, she doesn’t know, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She knows how father always liked your family.”
“What do you want, Abdullah?”
“I want us to get married,” he said simply, then waited for a response. After a short pause—though it seemed like forever to him—Abdullah continued, “You won’t have to leave Bayburt. You can stay and live with us.”
“And the rest of my family? What about my father? We can all stay with you?”
“Ah…no. I mean, just you. We will be husband and wife and you will be safe from whatever it is the government has planned for the rest of your people.”
Rosmerta frowned. “I’m not staying here while my father and Shushawn are driven away from me. And what about Adelina? She’s pregnant. She’ll need help to keep up. I can’t abandon her.”
“Yeah, okay, fine,” said Abdullah. “So, goodbye,” he added, as he turned away. He was embarrassed about being rejected, yet somehow relieved. In fact, as he walked away from Rosmerta he realized he hadn’t wanted her to say yes. Marrying a Christian girl would make things difficult. Sure, she would have converted. Of course, everyone in Bayburt would know who she was and that she wasn’t really one of them. And there was Ahmet to consider. His brother’s hatred for the Armenians scared him. It was probably for the best that she said no. Yes, definitely for the best.
Rosmerta walked away wondering if she had made the right decision. She didn’t want to leave her family. Still, she couldn’t help thinking about what might lay ahead for them. Whatever it was, she had just dismissed the last opportunity she would have to avoid it.