The Name

In the air, the scent of September hung over a small European village at the beginning of the fourth decade of the twentieth century. Ray was in the church, holding his tiny niece, barely a month old, in his arms. It was her christening, and he had the honor of being her godfather and choosing her name. Although he had been confident in his choice just moments ago, now, looking into the baby's blue eyes, he was questioning his decision.

The priest was busy with the final preparations for the baptism ceremony. Ray glanced at his brother and sister-in-law. They were watching him and the little girl in her white ceremonial dress with blissful smiles. Ray knew he would soon have to announce the name he had picked for her. The old, already chosen name had sailed to some other seas. Something else was on the tip of his tongue.

Before Ray's eyes, a sunlit plain cracked open. It was September, just like now. As a young teacher, he had arrived in a remote town where the first generation of students awaited him. The whistle of the train still echoed in his ears. The train station was crowded. He pushed through the crowd and reached a horse-drawn carriage. The carriage driver dozed in the September sun, jerking awake when Ray approached.

"Franz Boarding House," he said.

"Sure, hop in," the man replied, urging the two black horses forward.

Ray, tired but unable to doze off from excitement, arrived in an unfamiliar town far from home. Students awaited him the next day, and despite the unfamiliar surroundings, he looked forward to it, a smile playing on his lips. The boarding house, nestled in a beautiful garden with a wan-shaped fountain, captivated him at first sight. As the carriage halted, Ray paid the driver, patted a horse on the back, took his suitcase, and approached the door. He rang the bell, and a tall, elegant woman with black hair streaked with grays opened it.

"Come in," she said loudly.

"Good day, ma'am," he greeted, tipping his hat.

"Ray Malek," he introduced himself.

The woman smiled and swung the door wide open.

"Come in, Mr. Malek; we've been expecting you."

He entered and somehow felt the enchanting scent of the boarding house, a blend of flowers and cooking. Mrs. Maria, as the woman was named, led him to his room and briefed him on the house rules, meal times, bed linen changes, and other details. She gave him a key and went about her business.

Ray put down his suitcase, approached the window, and pulled back the curtains. He opened the window and breathed in the air. That's when he saw her. She walked slowly, carrying a basket of fruit in her hand. Upright, with black hair tied in a braid, in a blue dress, she casually glanced his way, smiled, and entered the boarding house. Ray felt his heart beat faster. He stretched out on the bed, tired from the journey, and dozed off dreaming of the plain and the railway.

A knock on the door woke him up. He opened it, expecting Mrs. Maria to guide him to dinner. Instead, he was met with the girl's blue eyes and lost himself in her gaze. It seemed to him like an eternity before he could regain his composure. She chirped that dinner was ready and explained which room he should go to. He nodded and said he would be right there.

The dining room, where dinner was served, was spacious. It exuded a warmth not typically found in such places. He sat at an empty table, and although hungry, he seemed to lack an appetite. But that changed when Mrs. Maria brought him his dinner. He ate every last bite.

Soon, Ray realized that this was not just a place for dining but also for socializing. After dinner, the gentlemen brought out cards, and the few ladies gathered near the gramophone, laughing and commenting on something. Then she appeared. She walked over to the gramophone and placed a record on it. She turned the handle, and a cheerful melody filled the room. Some men who weren't involved in card-playing approached the ladies, and a few dances started.

Ray didn't know if it was because of this plain or something unknown that had settled in his heart, but he came near the girl who had stirred him up on the very first day here. He did something uncharacteristic for him, took her hand gently, and she followed him as they danced to the music. It felt like he had discovered another world and a new version of himself. And as he inhaled her floral scent, he thought he had found a new face of happiness.

"Ray," he introduced himself after they stopped dancing.

"Juliana," she replied, and at that moment, the world stood still, and he thought that she could not have been called anything else. As if she and her name were one.

The conversation flowed spontaneously as if they were old acquaintances. He learned that Mrs. Maria was Juliana's mother, and this was their boarding house, inherited after her father's death a few years ago. Benjamin Franz came from a noble lineage, leaving them funds that allowed them to live more than comfortably.

Ray shared how he came from a distant village to take over the first generation of students here, expressing his excitement. Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight like little stars, and he thought that if stars ever disappeared, she would be a worthy replacement. He chuckled at the thought, and she gave him a questioning look.

"Little stars in the night. Those are your eyes," he said.

The school day went perfectly, and in the afternoon, in the boarding house garden with her back turned to him, Juliana painted. He didn't greet her to avoid disturbing her, but he peeked in with interest and saw that she was painting the starry sky. He smiled and went inside, filled with a new fire smoldering in his chest.

The next day, Juliana invited him for a walk by the serene river on the plains. Arm in arm, they strolled, sharing childhood stories. She leaned on his shoulder, and in perfect harmony, they listened to the birds' song. These walks became a daily routine, cherished, as they knew the pleasant fall days would soon be replaced by rain and snow. During one such walk, while listening to the river's rustle, their fingers intertwined, and his lips descended to hers as easily as a breath of wind through her hair.

They spent long winter evenings in the salon playing cards, dancing, and singing. He felt like he was navigating new waters and liked it. But from time to time, something pricked him in the pit of his stomach, like some hidden ache.

Ray's parents, Anton and Lara, had high hopes for him. His father, a merchant, left him a small farm in their village, expecting him to carry on the family legacy. Alongside a wealthy friend, they built a school, dreaming of Ray marrying Nadia, the friend's daughter, and together they would teach and manage the farm. The ideal life he had never really thought about became a weight around his neck.

"I feel that your thoughts are distant and heavy," she would whisper to him sometimes.

He would smile at that and kiss her on the eyelashes. Drawing her closer, he felt the lightness of living returning to his heart.

On Juliana's 20th birthday, Ray surprised her with violets and her favorite perfume. The salon buzzed with cheerful chatter and music as they danced together, enveloped in the warm atmosphere of candlelight and celebration.

Juliana suddenly took him by the hand, and he silently followed. She led him straight to his room. He wanted to say something, but she put a finger on his lips. Their hearts beat in the same rhythm, merging into a timeless burst. If only he could stop time from slipping away and remain in that moment with her hand in his. But time, the old traitor, flowed inevitably, leaving that moment as an eternal record in the past, causing discomfort like a pebble in a shoe, never giving peace to the heart.

The end of the school year was approaching. Ray was preparing to do something the old him would never have thought of. He wrote to his parents that he would come home when the break began. He asked his mother to prepare the guest room because he was bringing a dear guest whom he wanted them to meet.

Mrs. Maria and Juliana looked at him for a moment without words, and then Juliana jumped up.

"Of course, I'll come!"

Maria remained silent, looking at him with a cloudy gaze, then nodded. Juliana hugged her and whispered,

"Don't worry, Mom, everything will be fine."

Juliana and Ray entered a stifling train compartment one June evening. Maria waved goodbye as the train slowly departed with a whistle. Ray chuckled at his audacity, but a lump in his throat grounded him in reality. Wanting his parents to meet her, he hoped for acceptance and to avoid the agonizing decision of choosing between them or her.

The journey was long. They traveled all night. A breath of wind entered through a half-open window. Juliana slept on Ray's shoulder. Sleep eluded him. He hoped for the best. But he stepped into the uncertain, and if he failed in his intention, his life could be shaken to its roots. He would have to betray someone in that case. He feared only betraying himself.

The train stopped with a whistle at the last station. Ray took their suitcases, and they exited the train, making their way through the crowd. A fresh morning awaited them. Ray saw his father in the distance and walked briskly toward him. Juliana followed him.

"I've been here since dawn. Welcome home, son, finally," his father said, embracing him warmly.

"Miss Juliana Franz, the daughter of the owner of the boarding house where I stayed," Ray introduced the girl to his father.

"My father, Anton," he added, looking at Juliana.

"Pleased to meet you, sir," she said.

The father nodded.

"Let's go; your mother is waiting."

They climbed into a carriage, and the driver took them to the nearby village with a slow trot.

Ray saw his mother from a distance in the yard of the house. He knew she was eagerly expecting him. She hugged him for a long time. It seemed to him that his mother had accepted Juliana's arrival better than his father. She took the girl to the guest room and left her to rest a bit before setting up the breakfast.

"My child," she addressed her son when they were alone.

"Tell your mother, why did you bring this lady to our home?"

"Mother, we don't have to talk about it right away. She is Mrs. Maria's daughter, the owner of the boarding house where I stayed. She came to visit. We'll tell everyone that," Ray replied.

"I'm not concerned about what we'll tell others, but why is she really here?" she replied.

"Mother, she is dear to my heart."

"The heart, son, knows how to deceive. What did you think when you brought her here? Will she stay?"

"Oh, mother, I didn't even ask her that. I just wanted you to meet her," Ray said, not wanting to start an argument with his mother right away.

"We'll meet her. But know this: whatever you thought, a mother sees. You two are from different worlds. You met by chance, but your lives are going in two different directions. Listen to your mother," she said and started setting the breakfast on the table.

During breakfast, Ray shared simple tales about school and town, avoiding the real reason for Juliana's visit. He preferred giving his parents time to get to know her without the added complexity of their relationship. Besides, he hadn't told Juliana why she was there, except that he wanted her to meet his parents and see the environment he grew up in.

“The village school is almost finished. It can start operating in the fall," his father looked meaningfully at Ray a few days after their arrival.

Ray remained silent.

"Did the young lady you brought come just for a visit, or does she intend to stay?"

"Father, she's just visiting," Ray said.

"She won't stay here, son. She's not used to our harsh land. She's a city girl, and life in the village is uninspiring to her. Interesting only for one summer. She's not accustomed to this life here where summers are short and winters are cold and long, and it seems like time stands still," the father said, standing up without waiting for Ray to reply.

"This is Silver River, a small and fast river. It's called that not because of its magnificent shine in the sun, but because they once found silver in its bed," Ray told Juliana as they walked along the river flowing through the village.

"It's wonderful," Juliana said dreamily. Then she took off her shoes and, with bare feet, stepped into the shallow bed of the icy stream. She closed her eyes.

"I want to absorb every sound and feel it with all my senses. I want to faithfully transfer every feeling onto the canvas when I get home. Because you don't just see with your eyes," she said, entranced.

Ray did the same, barefoot, stepping into the cold water. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the refreshing coolness. If happiness could ever be touched, it was then; it had a touch of silver.

Ray's conversations with his parents always ended the same way. They believed his life was here, that the newly built school awaited him, and that Juliana and he were two worlds that didn't belong together. They viewed everything as his temporary infatuation and believed that when it passed, he would come to his senses.

Juliana and Ray spent time in the village, enjoying the simple charm of rural life. She particularly liked the village church, an old building that bore witness to the place's long history. Inside the church, Ray told Juliana about traditions, customs, and the significance the church held for the local community. She listened attentively, somewhat captivated and somewhat in awe; he couldn't figure it out.

It seemed to him that Juliana was having a wonderful time, and he didn't want to spoil that. So, he was surprised one evening while they sat on the banks of the Silver River when she said with a serious expression,

"I know what troubles you, Ray, even though you don't tell me."

He looked at her, meeting her sparkling eyes, which were now sad.

"I don't want to pull you out of your world and your life. You'll decide which path to take."

Ray took her hand.

"Juliana... You are my day and my night. All my roads lead to you."

Juliana remained serious.

"It's time for me to go home. My mom is alone there, and she needs help at the boarding house."

Ray felt a pang of sadness.

"But summer is passing quickly. I'll wait for you in September. You'll come, won't you?" She kissed him and stood up.

He walked beside her silently, and with each step, the abyss beneath his feet seemed to open wider.

After dinner, Juliana went to her room to bring a special gift. She returned carrying a framed picture. Ray recognized the starry sky she had painted, and something welled up in his throat. He felt a tear in the corner of his eye and did everything in his power to prevent it from falling.

The train. It was right there in front of him. Dark and foreign. And it was about to take away a piece of his heart. He entered the compartment with Juliana to help her with the suitcase. As if he wasn't there, as if everything was just a dream from which he would wake up. He hugged her for a long time, inhaling the scent of her hair. Did he know back then? Did he make the decision then, or later? Did she feel it? Were both of them aware at that moment that they were seeing each other for the last time?

He wanted to tell her that he didn't want to let her go and that they should run out of the train right now and go far away where only the two of them mattered. But he didn't. Instead, he kissed her fragrant hair and said,

"Say hi to Mrs. Maria."

"I will. Take care," she whispered.

Ray got off the train, feeling a tremor throughout his body. The train started with a rumble. He saw her hand waving at him. He stood there for a long time, looking into the distance, and when the train was no longer in sight. If someone had looked closely, they would have seen a man standing motionless like a statue, only his tears flowing.

A month later, he sent her a letter in which he briefly, and with words that seemed alien, as if they were just acquaintances, told her that he wouldn't come and wished her all the best. It was easier for him to accept her anger and hatred than to see her mourn for him.

"Tell the name you've chosen." The priest's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Ray took a breath, looked at the little girl smiling in his arms, and said with a confident voice:

"She will be called Juliana."

The baby cooed. It seemed to him that everyone around him was smiling. Sunbeams played on the baby girl's face. He deeply believed that some stories were not meant to be told but could live on. He found a way for that. As long as one name continued to pass over people's lips, his untold story would live on.