Her Name Was NeOmi

By Seta Shishmanian

The period immediately following World War I was a time of powerful changes for nations and individuals. This is a love story that actually took place in an Empire. The story of this book took place against the backdrop of extraordinary events and reveals practices that are not found anymore. Fatal shadows move shocking boundaries between historical cultural rivals...The taboo of a burning love emerges during the Great War.
At the end of the War, as Neomi remains an innocent soul, she is sold to the Imperial palace as a maidservant. She was overwhelmed by the luxurious, opulent life at the ostentatious Palace. Ladies-in-waiting wait to be picked up by the emperor to share one night. As the administration changes Neomi becomes one of the biggest gifts to one of the greatest knight of the country, who later becomes the peace maker between rival countries.
After the War, the Knight # 5 goes to exile. And when he returns he dies. Neomi later flees with his sons. As she returns devastated by the loss of her lover, she loses her direction and eventually puts the two children in a boat. She goes after them losing the trace of their footsteps. She leaves behind Isabelle, the last child.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gatekeeper Press
• Release date: Sep 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781642371406

Book preview

Let’s dance’til the end of love

Leonard Cohen

1

The Quest For Knowledge

The river gushes through the valley. It passes between two continents. Troubles are shared. In backstreets, tavernas dissolve white brandy, waiting for local bread, dipping inside mashed eggplant. How were their souls enlightened? What was the joy of life? What support did they foster a century ago? What was their challenge? How did they arrive in that part of the world? They’re inspired to understand answers. Intrigued to know why, for better or for worse.

Katherine finds a letter from her grandfather. It is over sixty years old. She decides to translate it. Subsequently, circumstances change in her life. Sitting on the floor in the living room, she is flabbergasted. How can a president of a university do that? Shut the doors overnight. Get rid of all students. Dump all the professors; terminate everyone with no prior notice. They take their millions. Can anyone fight? They get away with murder. The students are abandoned. To whom was the exuberant amount of money paid? Thousands of professors have been let go overnight. They lose their jobs. There are no consolations or negotiations. Isn’t it the relentless exploitation of intellectuals and academicians? The professors have been humiliated. Why would they punish them?

Katherine worked over thirty years to achieve tenure at the private university. She is traumatized and devastated. She was teaching mythology and critical thinking. She is terribly stressed. How will she cope with this new avenue in her life? In a second, all the achievements have been lost; a lifelong promise is now in despair. Facing this new reality exhausts her. All she can think of is that all of her achievements have gone down the tubes. No one will hire her. She gazes at the vacant wall in her empty life. Her nerves quiver. She is unworthy of her own self.

She wraps a red bandanna around her neck. It is Sunday morning. She decides to call her best friend, Pat. She tells her about the university situation. Pat suggests she’ll try to help her by calling Linda. Katherine leaps in the kitchen from happiness. She dances around alone in the silver living room, circling until she gets dizzy. There might be a job opening. It is at the state university where Linda works.

Hi, Linda. This is Pat, Pat says.

How’s life going for you?

I’m so happy to hear from you. Time is passing quickly, Linda says.

Can I ask you a question? Pat asks.

Sure.

Do you remember Katherine? She would like to give you her résumé. Perhaps you can help her, Pat says.

Who’s Katherine? Linda asks.

You know her, the one with the hazel eyes, Pat says. The professor.

Oh! I just remembered. I haven’t had any connection with her for over forty years. What happened to her? Where is she? Linda asks.

She’s here. Can you help her? Can you do something for her at your place? Pat asks. She needs a job.

I’ll see what I can do. Tell her to forward me her résumé, Linda says.

Eagerly, Katherine awaits a response from Pat. The next day, she gets in touch with Linda. They arrange a rendezvous a week later.

The next day is a sunny one. In front of a discount store, a lot of people are entering and exiting. It’s a very busy place. People rush in to buy Chinese products. All of a sudden, Katherine and Linda bump into each other.

Oh my God! It’s ironic! It’s weird. It was meant to be. It’s strange. It is from heaven! Katherine screams.

Wow! We haven’t seen each other for decades. So many decades have gone by. We were supposed to meet next week, Linda says.

I’ll give you my résumé now. I have it with me, Katherine says.

Okay, Linda says.

It’s been forty years, Katherine says.

Really? That long? Has it been that long? Linda asks.

Even more, Katherine says.

Both are astounded. Later, they discover they are more than only former friends. They are related as well. Both are speechless, wondering, where did all the years go? Forty-two years? How does life misplace people like that?

We’ve lost touch with each other. Incredible? Katherine says.

Once again, within a week, Linda requests Katherine’s résumé. It is from the chief administrator of the university. At that point, Katherine is extremely happy. She envisions her mission is the opportunity to search the truth. Katherine sublimely connects to Linda. The fortune cookies give clues to the the puzzle of their future. At their meeting, they confess and cling to each other with tears. Both are astonished of their bloodline. They never knew they were distant cousins from far away.

A few days later, Linda hears Katherine has been admitted at the university. They’ve also hired the dean, her best friend. They worked together for thirty years. The friend is always dressed conservatively, impeccable in a dark suit and flats. She portrays an English manner with shyness. On the other hand, Katherine is very outspoken and bubbly; pleasantly sociable in her casual approach. Linda is amazed by Katherine’s transparent personality. They chitchat during the break.

One day, all hell breaks loose. Katherine brings to work an old letter and shows it to Linda. It’s an old, worn-out thin paper, written by her grandfather over sixty years ago. He is Katherine’s mother’s father. Katherine has kept the letter since she was a little girl.

It is my duty to translate this piece of paper, Katherine says.

What is it? Linda asks.

It’s a letter my grandfather wrote about his sister, Katherine says.

Your mother’s father? Linda asks.

Yes! It was my father’s wish one day to write a novel. We must translate it together and write an article or a novel, Katherine says.

We have to meet very soon.

Linda is amazed. She doesn’t want to get involved and is uncertain what to do. However, Katherine tries for days to persuade Linda. Finally, Katherine convinces her. Linda gives in. The next day, Katherine calls the Library of Congress to copyright her grandfather’s letter. She asks procedures on how to copyright.

We don’t copyright old letters. You must first get in touch with the publisher. Anyone who writes a novel, the publisher copyrights, Natalie at the Library of Congress says. That is if the publisher is interested.

Surprised, Katherine hangs up the phone.

On Saturday morning, it’s snowing. It looks like tiny cotton balls flying in the air. Extravagantly tall, Katherine eagerly awaits, dressed in a red bolero shawl and boots above the knees. Linda has a woven coat wrapped around her. It is below zero outside. They meet behind a coffee grocery store to translate her grandfather’s letter. The owner is also one of Katherine’s relatives. The place smells of freshly roasted coffee. He also offers sausages.

They warm up with steaming coffee, sitting at the only table in the back, hidden in a storage room. It’s behind the store. Katherine and Linda nurse paper cups of coffee, still halfway full.

This is something very short, both conclude.

Katherine finds out that in order to copyright the letter she must write a novel.

It can reach a lot of people, Katherine says.

Both exchange their aspirations and feelings. They reach a common denominator. Katherine and Linda begin researching history from a century ago. They promise each other by word of mouth. They begin their mission. Katherine turns the pages of life. She makes a few copies of the grandfather’s old letter.

We finished translating the letter, Katherine says.

Next we must start writing our novels. When we are halfway done with the novel, we can call the publisher. That’s what they told me. Katherine continues, They’ll only copyright it if it’s published.

I won’t get involved with that kind of stuff, Linda says.

That’s no problem, Katherine continues.

Six months pass. Katherine discerns her family’s secret will soon surface. It will be transparent. It’s the grandfather’s omen. However, Linda, on the other hand, is very cautious. Generations have passed. Skeptical of Katherine’s wish, Linda hopes the grandfather’s secret will one day be transparent. His spirit will be comforted in the graveyard. Perhaps only afterwards will his soul rest. It would be his final wish in the other life. The soul will be enlightened. Who knows? Katherine hopes to fulfill his wish.

Eagerly, Katherine sends the unfinished manuscript to Khazaros, the publisher. Anxiously, she awaits good news from them.

It is Tuesday morning. Natalie at the Library of Congress opens up her email. It is from Khazaros, the publisher. She explodes. In the gray-paneled office, Natalie is sitting behind a glass desk. There is a black and white picture on it. It is a family picture on the desk. On one side of the wall hangs a portrait of the Grand Canyon. It is soothing and relaxing. On the other side of the wall hangs a copy of one of the Impressionists. It’s an exquisite Renoir painting.

Sipping morning coffee in her mug, the view from her office is breathtaking. Capitol Hill is dark. Independence Day is approaching. The office turns into a quiet oasis. Adrenaline starts to rush faster and faster. Her excitement and enthusiasm burst with imagination. She sees a copy of a letter is inserted inside a manuscript. Skims halfway through the manuscript. She sees two names in the letter. It reminds Natalie of her own grandmother’s maiden name. There is a name her grandmother reiterated all the time. It has the same roots as hers. It is the same name in the letter.

The novel is only halfway done. It was placed on her desk by her assistant, Jeanette, to be copyrighted. Apparently, the original letter is with the publisher. Eventually, it will be inserted inside Katherine’s novel. Natalie notices the letter was written sixty years ago. Written over fifty years prior to the date of the letter. It’s an unknown secret.

Time is precious. Why is she so passionate? The unfinished manuscript was sent from Khazaros Publishers to the Library of Congress to be copyrighted. Nevertheless, Natalie would like to connect to the author of this manuscript. It consists of two volumes written by Katherine and Linda. They are hoping to finish simultaneously. How can Natalie verify her roots?

It was addressed to the Library of Congress by express mail from Khazaros. They want to publish Linda and Katherine’s novels as part I and part II. Natalie has achieved her success. However, she is cautious, interested in unveilingher own past. There are hidden roots related to Katherine.

Natalie makes notes to herself. Anxiously, she begins to search her own roots. How is her grandmother’s last name connected to the name inside the old letter? Is it a myth? Or is it forbidden to know? Natalie must hunt. Immediately copyrights first Linda’s novel. That is part one. The old letter is inserted in her novel. Later, she’ll copyright Katherine’s novel. That would be part two. She puts on her lipgloss, sips hazelnut coffee, and rereads the letter written by Katherine’s grandfather. In her lifetime, she has never seen anything like this. And she’s copyrighted many. There is a connection, she thinks.

At that moment, an employee walks into her office, asking if she read the morning’s confidential email.

When it rains, it pours, she says. She’s confident in her decision-making. The novel sounds musical, tantalizing, short of breath. It’s a secret metaphor.

Natalie’s roots are connected to the description of Katherine’s grandfather’s sister. The same bloodline proves hazel eyes, light brown curly hair. Her heart ignites and she calls Mike, the editor at Khazaros.

May I please speak to Mike? Natalie asks.

Who’s calling? Mike’s secretary says. He’s out of the office,

Could you ask him to call Natalie ASAP, please?

Sure, Mike’s secretary says.

On my cell. He’s got the number, Natalie says.

Mike’s secretary hangs up the phone. Leaves the message on his desk for him to call Natalie back. He gets back to the office late afternoon. Sees a message on his desk. Call Natalie at her cell, received at 1:30 p. m. Mike wonders what Natalie’s rush is. They are friends. But she has never called him during working hours. Of course, other than business. Rarely do they communicate during business hours. He wonders the reason for her call. In the midst of other rushes, he calls Natalie at 4:05 p. m.

What’s the good news? Mike asks.

Natalie is very cautious, careful not to be rejected. Exuberantly, she confesses to Mike. I’ve received the novel you’ve submitted to be copyrighted, Natalie says.

I would like to ask you a question. I am interested in the old letter. Maybe you can take a look at it. I hope you’ll like it. Perhaps you could also publish it in your company magazine. I don’t think you need approval from the author. She didn’t write it. It’s that short letter inside Katherine’s novel. I just copyrighted the novel, Natalie says.

Mike wonders why the letter is so important. They also own a magazine. They publish small articles. Linda and Katherine’s unfinished manuscripts are on Mike’s desk. But he asks Natalie to scan it again.

Don’t worry! It’s safe. Scammers won’t detect it, Mike says.

But computer fraud is all over, Natalie says.

She feels security is at stake for everybody.

So you want the letter in our magazine?Mike asks.

Yes, please, Natalie says.

I’ll check with our editor-in-chief.

During the phone conversation, a colleague listens in. Natalie whispers to her to keep it confidential.

I don’t understand why you’re doing all this, the colleague says.

I don’t want to be confined. I am seeking reality. I want to understand who I am and where my ancestors are from, Natalie says.

Truly? the colleague asks.

Yes. I need truth. I have freedom to make decisions at my job. I don’t want you to tell me what to do. Don’t even try to oppress me. I must wait impatiently, Natalie says.

There are many different types of joys in life. Some joys are accomplishing a challenge. Some are smelling a pleasant perfume. Some are sipping brandy. Other, perhaps, determining a blood line. Natalie wants to search for her roots. She prioritizes copyrighting the novels. The first volume is being written by Linda. The old letter is inserted in her manuscript. The second volume is by Katherine. Natalie would like to get in touch with the author of part II. Katherine’s grandfather’s letter is in it. She copyrights both with a gut feeling, excited to read about her culture. She seeks the connection of her own grandmother’s maiden name. The name sounds very familiar. Natalie’s grandmother mentioned something to her about Neomi. She passed away in the same period. The translation was done on a computer. Exuberant Natalie looks forward to meeting the author.

A few days later, she calls Mike at Khazaros again and asks what happened with the publication of the letter in their magazine. Her other line rings, but she can’t pick it up. After she hangs up with Mike, she checks her second line. There is a voice like the Godfather’s.

There is a bomb in your building.

Natalie immediately hangs up the phone and calls security. Quickly, she puts on her blazer and takes off her glasses. She tells her officials and colleagues about the danger.

Everybody leave the building and go out in the street, Security says.

There is a bomb at the Library of Congress. The announcement is loud over the speaker system. Security tells everyone, Drop everything and leave the building until further notice.

The fire drill shatters the whole building. The employees of the Library of Congress exit, running. They rush through the lobby’s revolving door. No one knows if the fire drill is real or not. At the exit, gunshots are heard. Snipers hide themselves. There are gunmen. They are hidden in the next building. The whole building is surrounded by evil bad guys. It’s scary.

The building’s security, the FBI, and other armed guards inspect the building. -They realize danger is leaking. It is from all around, inside and outside. Within a few minutes, five state police officers arrive with their sirens on. The bloody creatures are captured, one by one. Anyone wishing to harm this nation are called the bad guys.

The main sniper is still loose above the building. He’s far away. The fire department extends its ladder. There’s a shooting robot up there. The shootings continue back and forth. Detectives have been after the main guy for over a year. Apparently they are organizing a coup. Police recognize the bad guys. They have superb binoculars. They are armed with heavy guns, artillery, and other sophisticated weapons. Bodies lie on the floor.

The FBI prevails over the bad guys. Immediately, the funeral parlor arrives to pickup the dead. Other security officers arrive from different departments. They check the bad guys’IDs from their pockets. They will be sent back to their birthplace. The wounded are picked up by the ambulance. They will be taken to the nearest hospital. Unfortunately, a couple of employees were wounded in the middle of this scenario. Natalie perceives that if there had been a real fire, she could have lost her life. All important documents in the office would have vanished.

The next day, life continues as usual. The neighborhood is numb on a crisp, bright Saturday morning. Mister Softee comes around with its jingle, waiting for children to crave ice cream. The good news is, it’s a peaceful day; quiet and serene.

Natalie lives not far from work. She is devastated about what happened a day before. Could the building be a victim again? Her teenage son wants to create a robot in the basement of the house. Natalie discerns that being human today is more and more like being a robot. She concludes that one day the world will rotate differently, with machines and robots instead of humans.

You have to overcome the adversary. Life turns sour more and more. It was always bitter, from the beginning of Adam and Eve. Sometimes the sweetness of life rolls in. But it only happens in between different eras of time. After a storm, the sun shines. At different stages, one’s life can also be sweet and sour simultaneously. No one claims happiness is forever. There are some minutes in life one can be really euphoric, Natalie says.

Mom, I have to defeat aversion, her son says.

On Monday morning, it’s business as usual at work. Everything has cleared up. All of the employees of the Library of Congress report to work. Natalie is still in shock. Depressed and discombulated, she tries to relax in the office. Extremely worried about her future, life, position, country. She’s astonished about the old letter. The name Neomi is the same name as her grandmother’s. The manuscript is unfinished. She copyrighted it a few days ago. She sends the copyright novel by UPS immediately.

She recollects the grandmother’s maiden name. Natalie was too young. She’s uncertain if her grandmother’s maiden name was adopted or not. Natalie was only seven years old. Her grandmother said, There are lots of stories about names, implying how they were creating names. Every family name is derived from a skill, looks, etc. They made it up. What an interesting phenomenon! It was so long ago. Maybe it was her grandmother’s dream.

Natalie speculates on her own lost roots. Where can she get answers? She’s amazed at the similarities. It’s fiction. It can’t be real. Who can she ask the truth without making a fool of herself? Who can she confront? She pullsback to understand who she is or where she’s coming from. Everybody comes from difficult lands. The difference is that some still will never know. It’s unfortunate. Natalie continues to pace in her office. She takes off her eyeglasses, rolls her sleeves up, looks at the mirror, and gazes at herself. She is obsessed with the similarities of her grandmother’s name and story with Katherine’s old letter. What matters is who are we today. Who really cares if the bad guys want to infiltrate?

What is going on in Natalie’s mind? She is hopeful that Mike will get in touch with Katherine rapidly.

The files at the Library of Congress have not been affected, Jeanette, Natalie’s secretary says. Do you want me to email the publisher?

I’ve spoken to him already, Natalie says.

A moment later, the phone rings. It is Natalie’s husband, Jason.

Nat, I’ll be going to the Smithsonian Museum. I’m researching the oldest and largest emerald in the world, Jason says. I also have to research some archaeological findings about the primitive people living on this land, Jason also has one more thing to do:meet Jeanette in three hours.

What time do you think you’ll be getting home? Natalie asks.

Oh, I don’t know, Jason says.

Nat, you take your time. Don’t rush, Jason says.

Okay. Keep me posted, Natalie says. We won’t plan for dinner tonight.

How’s everything in the office? Jason asks. ‘Is everything okay? ’

I guess so, Natalie says.

Jeanette’s hearing the conversation. A pile of papers is waiting to be copied by her. Her mind back tracks. Biting her lip, she pulls back, careful not to be seen by her boss, Natalie. She’s eaves dropping, aware of the rendezvous with Jason. They’ll be entangled in each other’s arms. It will be in the back of the Smithsonian museum.

Jeanette walks into Natalie’s office. Natalie hangs up the phone with her husband.

These need to be copied, Natalie says. And whatever is in that box needs to be shredded.

Sure, Jeanette says.

In the shredding box, there’s plenty to be done. The job is overwhelming. Jeanette wants to take care of it the next morning. Impatiently, she pretends to be working. She has covered the low-cut brown top underneath a sweater. Also, she has covered the revealing miniskirt. The red bra can be loosened from the front. She put the open-toe sexy high heels in a tote bag.

Do you need these copies immediately? Jeanette asks.

Immediately, Natalie says. They need to be distributed to the right department.

I promise I’ll take care of them first thing in the morning, Jeanette says.

They need to be on the CEO’s desk first thing, for the morning briefing, Natalie says. I also need a memo to be emailed to the Pentagon. Jeanette, you still have half an hour before you go home. It’s only 4:30 p. m., Natalie continues. Where do you think you’re going?

Jeanette feels a lump in her throat. Desperately, she shuffles the memos and looks through the piles of papers. She unlocks the computer with a special password the Pentagon gave Natalie. She opens the email and sends a memo. Natalie copyrights their latest document. The boss and the assistant always have disputes. Jeanette realizes there is no alternative. Feeling guilty, she wants to rush to meet Jason. She is nervous, anxious, and unrestful.

You can’t leave yet, Natalie repeats.

Jeanette dreads Natalie. She wants to argue with the boss. But time is going against her. She controls her temper and remains sober. She acknowledges one has to stick to one’s moral values. She continues to be polite and respectful.

I just can’t see why we can’t be civil with one another, Jeanette says.

You’ve never liked me. You’re always antagonistic towards me. You’ve never stood by me. All these years, you’ve taken advantage of me. I’ve worked many nights without overtime or anything. You know what? I’ll only send the memo if it is a rush.

You can’t leave daily classified stuff unfinished, Natalie says.

I know that. Unbelievable, Jeanette says.

Her face flushes. Her hands sweat. The heels begin to hurt. It’s five minutes to 5 p. m. She opens her computer and sends an unclassified memo to the Pentagon. She walks into Natalie’s office. She sees Peter. He’s the next colleague waiting. Natalie hangs up the phone with Human Resources. She wants to hammer Jeanette. How many colleagues has she hurt?

Peter heard Natalie and Jeanette’s feud. All are interested in knowing what the hell is going on. What is the reason for their argument? Concurrently, Jeanette goes into her office. She turns off the Tiffany lamp on the desk. She piles all pertinent papers together. It looks neat. She puts the pretty pens away and looks in the mirror. She puts on her melon lipstick and freshens her face. Clearing her throat, she puts on her raincoat. She’s pressed for time.

It is a warm April. Not too chilly. The open-toed shoes are hidden under the desk. She’ll change while she waits for the bus. The wall clock shows three minutes slower than five o’clock.

Oh shit.

The rendezvous is at 5:20 p. m. Desperately, cautiously, impatiently, she rushes, wondering, how long can this continue? She knows it’s wrong, infidelity.

Security waits at the lobby of the building. They wait to see if anyone looks suspicious. Employees enter in and out of the backdoor of the building, scared stiff about being caught. They look strange.

Jeanette hurries down the entrance stairs. Luckily, it’s a safe exit. She walks out the revolving door. Pressed for time runs to purchase a bus pass. She waits at the station. Sits on a bench waiting for the bus. In the meantime, she takes off her sweater to reveal her breasts. She changes into open-toed high-heel pumps. Hears from someone. The bus will arrive twelve minutes late.

The last bus was already delayed for another half an hour, a passenger says.

What? Jeanette utters. I can’t believe this. It’s a regular day. Why don’t they change schedules at midnight or something? she says to a stranger.

The strange man is wearing dirty baggy pants, a forest-green T-shirt, and old black shoes. He’s almost bald, possibly homeless. Jeanette hears the sound of the bus. She’s the first customer to get on. Finally, the light appears at the end of the tunnel. It relieves her stress a bit. Only five bus stops are left. Soon she will get off at the Smithsonian museum. While she’s counting, a young lady approaches her.

Excuse me, miss, do you have the time? the young lady asks.

Sorry, I don’t have a watch, Jeanette says.

Finally, Jeanette’s bus stop approaches. She prepares to get off, knowing Jason will be waiting to welcome her in the back of the Smithsonian Museum. She walks up the short hill and sprays on perfume. Anxiously, she walks faster toward the museum. She turns the corner and continues rapidly toward the backstreet, remembering Jason told her where:in the dark alley.

Jason’s married. And Jeanette is under surveilance with cameras at her house. But that’s okay. They can meet elsewhere. To be with