Journey in the Snow
An Anastasia piece
"It'll be good for her," the grating voice of the old lady growled. "She's of age to be on her own. All the children that turned eighteen have gone on to good jobs. She'll be able to fend for herself for once."
Anya forced her eyes open with much difficulty and groaned as she slowly sat up. Comrade Flemenkoff's voice mingled with Comrade Voronkova's as they discussed arrangements for a job for one of the orphans. Since Anya had turned eighteen in June, she knew they were speaking of her.
A job, is it? I'm sure anything would be better than here...
A few minutes later, all the children were woken up to begin their day. The meal was just as plain and scarce as before, but this day seemed different, since Flemenkoff had announced that Anya was leaving for a new job. Many of the children became sad and objected to the news. Anya had become a favorite in the orphanage and she was like a mother to the younger children. After breakfast and lessons, Voronkova and the children gave Anya a going away party. They celebrated by having eggs and milk for the luncheon. Eggs and milk were a rare thing, for they were too expensive for the cheap orphanage ladies. They also gave Anya a present of a warm, woolen purple scarf.
"I wish you wouldn't have to go away," whimpered a young girl of eight.
Anya's chest tightened as she wrapped her arms around the thin little girl. Her black eyes were full of tears as Anya brushed the black curls from the little girl's face.
"I will write to you whenever I get the chance, Inna. But I'm sure you'll get tired of my news of working night and day in some old factory."
Little Inna just shook her head. "No I wouldn't. It would be something new to look forward to every day."
Anya just smiled as she pulled on her boots.
"I'll miss you, Malenkaya, little one."
"And I will miss you, Anya. All the other children will tease me again, like they did when I first came here. And I won't have any friends."
"You're getting big now, Inna. I'm sure you'll find a friend."
Anya and little Inna sat together on Anya's bunk as she pulled on her big green overcoat. Inna sniffled as she handed Anya a big cap for her head.
"Are you frightened?" whispered Inna.
"Not a bit," chirped Anya. "It's going to be a whole new place, and a whole new life for me."
Inna couldn't help but smile at Anya's excitement. Little did she know that Anya did not intend to set a foot near the factory. She was getting out, and Anya was planning to head to St. Petersburg.
Finally, I shall be able to make my own way in life. I'll be away from all of this. Away from all those annoying ladies and cruel officers.
"Anya! Time to go," barked Flemenkoff.
With one final hug from Inna, Anya tied the scarf around her neck and followed the old lady to the door. Children were already surrounding the door and windows waiting to wave goodbye.
Anya looked down at Inna, who was still holding her hand, and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
"Will you look out for her, Daria?" she asked an older girl of ten.
"Of course, Anya." The ten year old took Inna's hand in hers.
"I won't tell you again!" exclaimed the orphanage leader. Anya hurried behind the old lady and they walked outside. She looked behind her, and saw many little faces watching her, waving goodbye. For a minute Anya felt sad. She was leaving the only home she could remember, and even though times had been rough at the orphanage, she had looked on many of the younger kids as brothers and sisters. It was hard to say goodbye to them.
"I got you a job at the fish factory," informed Flemenkoff. "You go straight along the path until you get to a fork in the road. Then you go left..."
Anya heard her, but she wasn't really paying attention. She was too busy blowing kisses and waving to all the little children who called out her name in one final goodbye.
"Goodbye!" she called. "Goodbye everybody!"
"Are you listening?" Flemenkoff glared at her in disapproval.
Anya knew the old lady didn't like her. They had spouts from the beginning, when Flemenkof took her off of the police's hands after she had stolen an apple out of hunger. Anya tried to be good, but she couldn't stand the old lady and her partner, Voronkova. They were boring old crones, and acted like they knew everything about Russia and everything in it, even when Anya told them things she knew about the country. She didn't know how or why she knew so much, but she did. But every time, the ladies would just say that she was a child and an orphan child at that, and couldn't know such things. "Be grateful, Anya!" they would always snap angrily. "A little waif like you is lucky to even sleep under this roof and eat our food. The least you could do is act at least a little thankful!"
Anya could remember all the times she had been slapped or sent to the corner of the room, or sent to bed with no supper because she had been "saucy and smart-mouthed to her betters." She had been called things from disrespectful and lazy, to horrid.
Anya couldn't help being all those things when she had such boring teachers who acted like they knew so much when, in fact, they knew so little.
"I'm listening, Comrade Flemenkoff..." she muttered.
The old lady still glared at her as she tugged on her scarf to make her walk. Anya stumbled but caught her footing as she tried to grab the scarf from the small old lady.
"You've been a thorn in my side ever since you were brought here, acting like the Queen of Sheba, instead of the nameless, no-account that you really are!"
You unfeeling, wheezing, no-good windbag! Stop tugging my scarf! Anya wanted to say, but she kept it inside for later. She was finally able to unwind herself free from the long scarf that had begun to choke her. She watched the old lady carry on with her ranting and rolled her eyes.
Here we go . . . she thought.
"For the last ten years, I've fed you, I've clothed you. I've kept a roof over..."
Anya had a gift of mimicking people. She did it all the time in the streets and one of her best performances was mimicking Flemenkoff. She did so now as they walked to the front gate.
"...Kept a roof over my head..." she mimicked, rolling her eyes.
The lady heard her as she unlocked the gate and jerked her head back to face the girl. Anya didn't know someone could frown as deep as Flemenkoff frowned at her. She swung the gate open with a loud creeaaak.
"How is it that you haven't a clue as to who you were before you were brought here, and yet you can remember all that?" The old woman placed her hands on her hips.
"But I do have a clue . . . " Anya spoke up. She pulled out her one treasure, a golden necklace with a pendant of blues and golds with ornate-script printed onto the jewelry that read "Together in Paris." Anya had found it on her person after she had woken up from . . . something. She hadn't a clue as to how she found herself on the ground in the middle of the street, but there she had been, a little eight-year-old with no memories. With nothing, except that little necklace. She figured it had to be part of her forgotten past, and that her past had something to do with Paris.
The old lady broke off her words with a scoff. She had heard all that talk about the necklace before. At first, they had suspected Anya of stealing it from someone, but Anya would not be parted from the jewelry, even after a little fight had erupted. Soon, the two ladies of the orphanage found her so hard to manage, that they let Anya keep it.
"I know," she growled. Her long, bony fingers held the necklace as she read the inscription. " 'Together in Paris.' So, you want to go to France to find your family?" she guessed with mock sincerity.
Anya smiled and nodded.
The old lady cackled at her. "Little Miss Anya, it's time you made your way in this world. We've brought you up on principles of survival for work in a factory, and to a factory you are going. It's good enough for the likes of you. It's time you realized your place in life. In life and in line, and remember. Be grateful. We could have let you starve on the streets and not have given a second thought about it. Now, you are going to the fish factory, and you will be able to make some money, and buy yourself a home. Forget those ridiculous thoughts about Paris. Paris, ha!" she wheezed. "You'd stick out there like a sore thumb! Look at yourself!"
Anya looked down at her oversized green coat and her shabby boots. Her hat was too big for her head and sometimes it fell over her eyes. She looked like she hadn't had a real bath for as long as she could remember. Flemenkoff's words had hit the mark and they stung.
She hid the hurt the lady's words caused by asking for her scarf. The old lady just tossed it at her and pushed her past the gate. Anya watched as the gates slowly closed.
"Together in Paris!" mocked the old lady, laughing. Her laughing turned to hacking and coughing as she walked back to the building.
Be grateful... The words reverberated in Anya's head as she started her walk. After taking ten steps, she took one last look at the orphanage. It was familiar, it was home... But now Anya was on her own, and she had to admit, she was a bit frightened. Factories were always said to be dreadful places, and Anya worried about future employers and dangerous working conditions.
Buck up, she told herself. This is what you've wanted for so long, to be on your own. You don't need anyone or anything. Forget Flemenkoff's words! Forget the factory! It's on to Paris!
Anya soon found the fork in the road.
"Be grateful, Anya, she said," Anya said to the trees. "Well, I am grateful. Grateful to get away!" Her voice echoed in the wintry stillness. "Go left, she said." Anya mimicked the old lady's voice as she stared at the signs pointing to different destinations. The left sign showed where she was supposed to go, but the right sign showed the direction to where she wanted to go: Petrograd, St. Petersburg.
"I know what's to the left. If I go that way... I'll be Anya the orphan forever..." she twisted her fingers together and continued her thoughts aloud. "But... If I go right, maybe I could find..." her voice drifted off as she held the little necklace in her fingers. "Whoever gave me this necklace must have loved me." Right? Why else would it say "Together in Paris?"
Anya shook her head. Now that she was able to, she wasn't sure if she should follow through with her plan. The whole idea about Paris was crazy.
"This is crazy!" she said to the sky. She believed that God was there, and that He was listening. What did He think, she wondered.
"Me, go to Paris?" she queried. "Flemenkoff was right. I'd stick out like a sore thumb." Once again, she lifted her eyes skyward in a silent plea to God.
"I need help! Send me a sign! A hint! Anything!"
With a final sigh, she plopped down onto a rock and sat there. God would give her a sign,
she was certain, and she was open and ready to receive it.
Her silence was broken by a series of little yips. A small, grey dog bounded out of nowhere and began tugging on her long scarf playfully.
Anya tried to hide a smile. "Heyyou! No, no. I don't have time to play right now. I'm waiting for a sign, you see."
The little dog began tugging harder on her scarf and soon pulled it from her person. Anya began a little chase around the sign as she tried to get her scarf back which ended when she tripped and fell into the snow. The little dog almost seemed to smile as he yipped and bounded in the direction of the city.
Anya shook her head. She thought she was going crazy or something. It was almost as if the dog was trying to speak to her. "Oh great. A dog wants me to go to St. Petersburg..."
Her eyes widened as she remembered what the priest had said the last time she had been to a chapel. He had said that God works in mysterious ways, and that sometimes all we had to do was listen to hear His plan. And His plans sometimes occurred in the most unexpected. Anya looked at the little grey dog. It dropped the scarf for a minute and barked.
"It must be a sign!" she exclaimed. Anya looked down at the little dog and stared into the bluest eyes she had ever seen.
"Well, little guy, I think this will be the start of a great friendship. Let's see. I can't just call you dog or pup or anything. You must have a name. I've always wanted to have a pet..."
The dog panted and played with her scarf again.
"I think I will name you ... Pooka! Yes! That's a good name for you." She knelt beside the dog and smiled, petting him. "Like it, boy? I got it from the time I saw this little girl holding a stuffed puppy. She called him Pooka."
The dog cocked his head to the side, and they looked at each other. Then, Pooka began to bound in the direction of the city, scarf still trailing behind him.
"All right, I can take a hint."
She took the scarf from the dog and took a big breath.
"Guess I'm going to St. Petersburg!" she grinned. For the first time, for as long as she could remember, she felt like she was doing the right thing at the right time. She shoved aside all thoughts of dangers that might lie ahead of her. Anya was taking her future into her own hands and she was ready for whatever might come her way. So, she took the path to the right, and took her first steps in the snow to find a past she couldn't remember, and to find a family that would love her.
"My past is there, Pooka! It's there in Paris, I just know it!"
Pooka let out an encouraging bark, and they began to walk together. She passed different homes, and met different families. They all greeted her and were very kind. After she told some of them about her journey, some offered her food, and some even said they'd give her some money for the train. Anya accepted the food, but she couldn't accept money. It didn't seem right, and besides, she had been given some money when she left the orphanage to buy food and drink.
Soon, girl and dog were alone again and Anya began to talk to the little dog. At first, she was surprised that the dog had followed her so far. She thought it just wanted food, but after they had been given food by the kind people, Pooka had remained by her side.
"The only things I have of my past are wonderful dreams, Pooka. It all started when I was younger. I used to have all these strange dreams of this handsome man, and a beautiful woman. They always looked so important, and yet they were always calling to me, and calling me such sweet names, as if I was part of their family."
Her throat tightened as she remembered all those dreams. They were a part of her, and she always wished she didn't have to wake from them.
She swallowed hard, and blinked several times. Once again, no tears had been shed, and she was able to block all the emotions she felt inside.
"Then, I had dreams about three girls. They all were so lovely. Two of them had reddish-blonde hair like my own, and another had darker hair, the color of chestnut red, and, well, they looked like me... And the boy..." she felt her throat tightening again. "The boy I saw with them was so small, yet he was adorable. He had light hair, and such a sweet smile, but he seemed so frail and fragile, as if really sick..."
She shook her head. "I don't know what it all means, boy. But the dreams mean something. They can't be wrong. It's like they're pointing me on my way to someone who's waiting for me... I know I'll find where I belong... someday..."
Her new friend barked in response and bounded down the road. Anya admired the woods as they walked along. The many trees were blanketed in pure snow and she watched as a sleigh passed with laughing people inside. As their walked continued on, she spotted a frozen river and crossed over a snow-covered log. Snowflakes began lightly falling from the grey sky, but Anya was too excited and warmed by the brisk walk to feel the cold. Many signs she passed by indicated that the city was closer with every step. Her hope brightened.
They climbed over a steep hill, and Anya let out a whoop to the sky as she saw the city loom over them.
We made it! We've made it to St. Petersburg!
Anya and Pooka made quite an interesting pair as they roamed about the streets. She looked at all the interesting shops and different items. She had been offered things from fish to jewelry as she walked past, but she had no other thought than to get to the train station.
"Excuse me," she asked an older lady. She was a gypsy, dressed in colorful robes and many jeweled bracelets and necklaces. She stood by a cart, offering many delicacies to those who passed by. Anya was no exception.
"Hello, my dear. Would you like a little morsel to eat? Perhaps a nice little ring, here."
She showed Anya some of her items.
Anya smiled. "No thank you. What I'd like are some directions. Could you tell me the way to the train station?"
The gypsy smiled a gold-toothed grin. "What does a young lady like you need to go to the train station for?"
Perhaps Anya didn't see any harm in telling the gypsy about her business, or perhaps the lady seemed too kind to be dangerous. Whatever the reason, Anya was soon telling the lady about her destination. She didn't show her the necklace though. Anya had too many run-ins with thieves concerning the necklace to know that she should keep it hidden. She also knew not to put her hands in her pockets so no one would expect that she had any money.
The kind lady gave her the directions. As Anya bid her goodbye, the lady stopped her one last time.
"May the Lord guide you in what you do, little one. A new future is before you, I can tell. You will be faced with many trials, but I can see that you have the strength and will to face them. Good luck!"
Anya smiled a wide smile as she said good bye. The lady's words stirred something inside of her, and she prayed that this "new future" she had spoken of was true.
"One ticket to Paris, please," Anya said to a rather gruff, large ticket collector. His face seemed to be set in a perpetual frown.
"Exit visa," he barked. His hand reached out to see her travel papers, but she had none.
I guess traveling isn't as easy as I thought it would be... Anya mused. "Exit visa?" she queried aloud.
Seeing that Anya had no papers, his frown deepened. "No exit visa, no ticket!"
His ticket booth window shut in her face. Pooka squirmed in her arms and barked.
"Hmpf!" Anya frowned. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Now what'll I do?" she sighed.
"Psst!" An old woman tapped her on the shoulder. She had a sort of shady look about her.
"See Dimitri. He can help," she hissed. Her eyes darted in all directions as she spoke.
Anya normally would have been suspicious of the lady, but she was desperate.
"Where can I find him?" she whispered.
"At the old palace. But you didn't hear it from me!" the lady warned. Anya's imagination began to run wild. Who was this Dimitri? Why did the lady whisper when his name was mentioned? Questions swirled around her head, but all she said was "Oh," and nodded. "Dimitri, right?" she hissed once more. The lady nodded and sent her on her way.
"I don't know, Pooka," Anya said. "This whole thing seems very suspicious. Whoever Dimitri is, he doesn't seem to have a good reputation."
Her suspicions grew even more as she began asking for the "old palace" and "Dimitri."
Whenever the man's name was mentioned, people hushed up and wouldn't speak to her. It seemed like Dimitri was a name of foreboding.
For a long while, she just wandered around, asking for directions. After hours of doing that, she grew so frustrated, that she left out the name Dimitri, and just asked for an old palace. It was getting late as she passed by an old theater. It seemed like the right place to ask around and she soon met a man walking along. He wore a cap and black coat. A mustache covered his top lip.
"Hello, sir. I'm hoping you could help me..."
"Well, what is it?" he asked, eyebrows raised. He stared at the shabby-looking orphan girl and the little dog she held in her arms.
"I'm looking for the— "
A man in a brown overcoat rudely brushed past her, pushing her aside.
"Excuse me!" she glared at him. But he didn't even look up. He just kept walking past, whispering something to a large man walking with him.
"The nerve of some people!" she groused. She didn't focus on the rude man or his friend for very long though. When she turned back to the mustached man, she noticed that he was still watching the pair of men with a very cautious eye.
"Sir?"
"I'm sorry. Yes?"
"I'm looking for the Catharine Palace. Do you know where that is?"
The man frowned, but gave her directions. "Though I don't know why you would want to go there. It's deserted. Has been for years. No one lives there anymore."
"Thank you." She smiled, and they parted.
It was not long before Anya found herself gaping in awe at the magnificent building before her.