me where that name came from, why it was changed, and 16
by whom.”
17
I counted the inquiries on the same three fingers he had 18
used the day before.
19
Tamal Knosos considered me for a long time. It took all 20
of my concentration not to break away from his gaze. I 21
knew somehow that if he stared me down, I would never 22
regain the advantage.
23
Looking back on that morning, I can see how it might 24
seem foolish, childish really, the game we played. Two 25
full-grown men in that ridiculous situation. But if you 26
were there, you’d have felt how deadly serious we were.
27 S
“I don’t know,” he said at last.
28 R
“You don’t know what?”
3rd Pass Pages
ManInMyBasemnt_HCtext3P.qxd 10/24/03 8:16 PM Page 195
The Man in My Basement
“I don’t know the answers, not the real answers. My 1
mother’s name was Maria Knosos, and she was unmar-2
ried. My father’s name was Tamal. The birth certificate 3
only had his first name. His nationality was Turkish. My 4
name became Tamal Knosos because my mother died be-5
fore she could give me a name. She had come to New 6
York from Greece and met this man, Tamal, somewhere.
7
He was already gone by the time I was born. I was neither 8
Greek nor Turkish but an orphan in America. When I 9
grew up I named myself. I didn’t know a thing about ei-10
ther parent or their cultures. I was here and I meant to 11
thrive. I created a whole history based on the name Ben-12
net. The ancestors I chose came over on a boat before the 13
American Revolution. They had died out mostly, except 14
for Anniston, except for me.”
15
I was looking closely at my prisoner. At his bald head 16
and impossible eyes.
17
“Contact lenses,” he said and then leaned forward, put-18
ting his fingers against his left eye. When he leaned back 19
he had in his hand a big lens, whites and all, of a blue eye.
20
The black eye that looked back at me from the left socket 21
could well have been Greek or Turkish.
22
“I had my scalp done by an electrologist,” he said. “In 23
