Yesterday, when she reached St. Petersburg it was already too late to go to the train station and she had just enough money to buy her ticket to Paris, therefore she couldn't find a place to sleep or a good part of her money would banish.
So in the cold damp snowy street in front of the train station she slept with Pooka hugged to her side as her only source of warmth. Surprisingly it was midday when she awoke, with her hair half frozen, her fingers numb and an imperious need to run a mile or two if that meant to warm up a bit. Of course as she hadn't eaten since yesterday she didn't have energy enough to run that mile.
Thank goodness she was Russian! Years of rationing food had used her to the emptiness of her stomach.
Nervous but excited all the same, Anya walked to the train station.
The place looked like a castle, a brown 'little'castle. It made her feel so little! It's sculptured walls fascinated her deeply. Looking at them she couldn't help but feel something.
Something strange, she didn't really know what, something like a pull in the back of her head, a something that reminded her of some unknown past, maybe her life before the orphanage, maybe some other life. A something that talked of music and dances, smiles and warmth, it talked of what could have been or what should have been.
Someone pushed her while passing by her side and she started paying attention to reality again. It's no time to daydream, Anya!
It took her half an hour and quite a lot of questions and instructions but finally Anya found her way to the ticket seller's window. The line was not very large, which was another surprise, perhaps it worked fast.
Whatever the reason, with Pooka in her arms and a smile on her face she stood stood at the end of the line and waited for her turn to come.
No. It definitely was not the fastness of the service that made the line so short.
"One ticket to Paris, please" she said once she finally reached the end of the line.
She didn't even know if the train went to Paris, but she just wanted to get out of Russia and eventually get to Paris by some other train.
"Exit visa?" Exit what?
"Exit visa?" She asked, hoping she had misheard and she didn't need anything else in order to get to Paris.
"No exit visa, no ticket." Anya fantasized for a second or two to shout her lungs off and make such a scene that damned man would give her her bloody ticket to Paris or Warsaw or wherever further that train line went and got her nearer to Paris. She had come all the way on foot and had lost possibly the only work she would be able to find in quite some time, for goodness's sake!
But she would never do that, she knew better than doing a tantrum like some capricious five year old.
And so the ticket agent hung the 'PEOPLE'S LUNCH BREAK' and slammed his shutters right in Anya's face, along with the entire row of ticket agents.
"Oh, hmm." Damned son of a dirty whore! I hope the bloody devil himself rips your sodding bollocks off in hell, you bloody bastard! Anya cursed him colorfully in her mind.
She wanted to cry, maybe all this had been a mistake, maybe she was still in time to turn back, go to the fish factory and say some excuse like that she was supposed to go that day and not the day before. Maybe...
A sweeper woman with her broom still in hand, approached her.
"Psss." She said to call her attention. "See Dimitri ... He can help." She whispered.
"Where can I find him?" She asked taken aback, not thinking much. I don't have to turn back, I don't have to work in a fish factory!
"At the old Palace, but you didn't hear it from me." She told her, even though she hadn't told her her name.
"Oh." She was waiting for some more information, like where the old palace was located but the old woman just said:
"Go, go, go, go." And Anya had no other option but to part in search for the old palace.
"Hmm, Dimitri." She whispered to herself confused but decided that if she had come that far she would get to the bottom.
Dimitri and Vladimir were sitting at a large table. On top of it, stacks of resumés were pressed through it. On his hand, Dimitri had an enormously long list of names that spilled out onto the floor in front of him.
He and Vlad had seen at least a hundred girl as between yesterday and the day being. It was awfully frustrating because none of the women they had seen was feet to be Anastasia.
Dimitri looked over to Vladimir before crossing the second to last name off the list. Useless, useless, useless!
"Nice, nice, very nice, yeah..." he said instead.
"And I look like a princess, and I dance like a feather." And my father was the tsar of Russia.
"... Okay, hmm, thank you, thank you. Next please!" Please let her be somewhat decent, she is the sodding last in the list!
Unfortunately when the last Anastasia wannabe stepped into the spotlight on the stage, Dimitri knew he need not see her to know that clearly, she was not right for the role.
"Grandmama. It's me, Anastasia..." She took her coat off and rolled her hips just a bit as if instead of presenting herself to her long lost grandmother she was presenting herself on the corner's cabaret. Probably she came straight from there to the theater.
Dimitri and Vladimir, stared at her in amazement, not really sure if that was a joke or she really thought that was the way one would present onself to an elder woman. Or if she had confused this audition for something else. God knew it was not the first time.
Vladimir groaned and put his head down on the table, ready to cry of pure frustration.
"Oh, brother." Dimitri said before crossing her name.
Later, when they had left the theater and were heading down the street the tense silence was finally cut by Vladimir.
"That's it Dimitri. Game over. Our last kopeck gone for this flea-infested theater, and still no girl to pretend to be Anastasia!" Dimitri was even more frustrated than Vladimir was, after all the idea had been his, but he forced himself to be optimistic. Vlad was easily taken by optimism. He had that kind of personality that no matter how hard life hit him, he couldn't help but think that everything would turn up well in the end. And he knew life had hit Vlad hard, passing from a rich nobleman to some kopeckless no one was sure to be a blown on someone's optimism. And still Vlad was the epitome of optimism.
"We'll find her, Vlad. She's here somewhere, right under our noses." Dimitri grabbed Vladimir, just at the same second that Anya walked by his side and pulled out the music box. If he had just turned his head! His problems would have been solved. "Don't forget, one look at this jewelry box and the Empress will think we've brought the real Anastasia." He said confidently.
"I'm looking for the Catherine..." Dimitri bumped into her without even noticing.
"Excuse me." She said.
"Do you know where that is?" He hadn't heard her, he was still whispering conspicuously with Vlad.
"... And before she catches on, we'll be off spending the ten million rubles."
She must have asked a million strangers, but they all evaded her nervously, or told her that there was nothing there, it seemed that the only kindness she would ever receive there would be that old woman in the train station.
"There's nothing there. No, no there's no one living there, go on." They all said. And she was starting to believe that that woman had lied to her, had played some kind twisted joke on her.
It was late afternoon when she found the Catherine Palace, it was in ruins and doors were blocked. How could anyone enter there? She was tired and hungry and convinced that that women had laughed at her.
But, fate talked through Pooka again when the little dog jumped from her arms and ran through an opening at the bottom of the wood blocked door.
Anya called Pooka. She tried to look between the boards, trying to find Pooka inside, hoping she would not have to get in there to get him back, for she could not left him back, it was so easy to love a pet that you couldn't just leave it behind.
"Pooka, Pooka, Pooka where are you?" She called him and decided she would have to get into the palace to recover her dog, she pulled on one board, which seemed to think it was a good moment to come loose and make her she fall backward.
"Ow!"
On one palace bedroom the crash of her fall was heard. It was the one lit bedroom, still kind of clean, and warm from being used.
Vladimir and Dimitri were eating. Dimitri was startled by the noise and stood up. It could be anything, the police, the red army, some nosy neighbor who would want to turn them in.
"Did you hear something?"
"Mm, no." It was so much easier to convince one self that there was nothing out there, that there was no danger waiting out there to close its clutches on their throats. But still...
Anya entered the vestibule of the Winter Palace, with Pooka following her. No longer did she need to look for him now, it was her own curiosity what drove her to investigate the palace. She removed her scarf as she crossed the floor to stairs, it was cold, but she feared that she would trip and brake her neck.
She heard a noise towards the entrance, and she went up some steps. He followed her up the stairs, she didn't notice him then, maybe she thought it was a rat or something. Dimitri knew he should be throwing her out or scaring her off so she would not see him and turn him and Vlad in to the authorities for living in the old palace, but he was a curious person and he couldn't help it.
"Hello? Anybody home?" She asked but he kept quiet.
Anya was in the partially destroyed dinning room, she could see even in the darkness that it had been a beautiful place, there was still a table no one had bothered to clean not even to still what was there, and some unknown force dragged her to it.
A silver plate called her attention, it was broken, she didn't even know why that plate had called her attention but it did. It was covered in dust and she had to blow it away, for the plate to mirror her. While she looked at her reflex, she concluded that she looked more like a boy than she thought with that big coat.
Looking at the plate, that pull she felt before came back, a little stronger and just for one second she saw something, a kid dancing with her father.
"Bowls, plates, hmmm... This place it's ... it's like a memory from a dream." She said to no one in particular, but at least now she had Pooka so she wasn't the crazy girl talking to the air/herself, she was the crazy girl talking to her dog. What an improvement!
Wandering to the top of a huge staircase which lead down to the once grand ballroom, and stopping at a large landing half way down the steps, with the moonlight hitting the portrait of the deceased royal family with a ghostly glow; the pull in the back of her head, like some kind of laze that was trying to bring something to the surface, started pulling a river of versed words, a lullaby, sweet and nostalgic that poured out of her lips as flashes of memories she didn't even knew if were real or part of her imagination came along with it.
"Dancing bears,
Painted wings,
Things I almost remember.
And a song, someone sings,
Once upon a December..."
A bed, a chimney cracking with fire, an old eroded voice. The warmth of a forgotten childhood.
"Someone holds me safe and warm,
Horses prance through a silver storm.
Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory."
A father she was sure, she was seeing a loving father with his daughters. And a party, with gracious music and a whole orchestra. Ladies dancing with her, ladies who were close, so very close! She was dancing with them, she would swear upon her life she could see them, they were part of her imagination but her imagination was so vivid she had no trouble picturing the dancing couples on that once gran ballroom.
She could see the waltz so clearly! She herself was waltzing to the beat of her song. It had grown strong and the images that poured through her mind brought her to the splendid glory the ballroom had once had.
Someone holds me safe and warm,
Horses prance through a silver storm.
Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory.
It was so beautiful it had to be a memory, weather if it was from this life or some other, the fullness feeling had to be real.
Far away, long ago
Glowing dim as an ember.
Things my heart used to know,
Things it yearns to remember.
And a song, someone sings,
Once upon a December.
She fantasized she had a father to waltz with, sisters to dance with her playfully. She fantasized with a past long forgotten that she could not fully regain. But, then, when the song was finished, there was nothing left of her fantasy.
She was still the princess she dreamed to be, but when there were no more verses to pour from her mouth the nostalgic touch of the song she had sung turned over her, because everything was 'Once upon a December', a December very far away from this moment and what she had had once upon that December, was no longer hers.
However, for Dimitri, once her song was finished, the embeleso wore off quite quickly and the first thing that came out of his mouth was a:
"Hey!" The girl gasped and prepared herself to run away.
Dimitri and Vlad started running down stairs to reach her. Vlad's fat belly bouncing while he tried to climb down the stairs.
"What are you doing in here!" Dimitri yelled. The shock wore off of the girl and she started running to the stairs with Dimitri chasing after her.
"Hey ... hey! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, hold on a minute. Hold on!" Finally the girl stopped running a ray of moonlight glowing directly in front of the picture of the Royal Family, and illuminating the girl as well. Frozen to the spot, Dimitri wasted no time on noticing the striking resemblance between the picture of Anastasia and the girl in front of him.
"Now, how did you get in he-here?" Dimitri asked, out of breathe.
"Excuse me child." Panted Vlad, who was in no condition to run what he had ran and was even more out of breath than Dimitri had been. As a smile started spreading across his lips as he elbowed his friend to make him notice.
"Vlad, do you see what I see?" He whispered excited.
"No." Dimitri was about to ask him how could he not see, when he remembered that Vlad saw next to nothing without his glasses, so he helped him to put them on and waited for his answer.
"Oh, yes, yes." Now, that's better.
"Hmm, a dog…" Dimitri said eyeing the animal, that jumped to his arms. He was no fan of dogs.
"Are you Dimitri?"
"... cute." He told to the dog, trying to contain the contempt in his voice. Dimitri handed the animal to Vladimir who did like dogs and then walked up the stairs to the girl.
"Perhaps, that depends on who's looking for him." He answered her.
"My name is Anya ... I need travel papers..." she whispered. This is just perfect! Dimitri thought. "They say you're the man to see even though I can't tell you who said that." There goes an innocent. Dimitri compared her to the picture as much as he could, for the picture featured a much younger Anastasia. But she was exactly the same. It was incredible! She was quite slender, yes. His eyes took the excuse of the comparison as an excuse to roam over where they pleased, and were they pleased! Boy, she was cute. Dimitri smiled again, circling her.
"Hmm, hmmm." He hummed appreciatively.
"Hey and why, why are you circling me? Were you a vulture in another life?" She didn't like being ogled to, then. Such a shame, he had quite liked ogling her.
"I'm sor...I'm sorry Enya." Ha! Sorry...
"It's Anya, Anya." She corrected him.
"Anya, it's just ... just that you look an awful lot like ... Never mind ... Now, you said something about travel papers?" Take it easy, don't be so obvious!
"Uh, yes ... I'd like to go to Paris..." this is just perfect!
"You'd like to go to Paris?" He was sure his smile was somewhat Cheshire Cat's like.
"Mhmm." She confirmed and Dimitri gave Vladimir a knowing excited look. But Vladimir was a bit distracted with the dog.
"Who is this here. Oh, oh, look. Oh, oh, he likes me."
"Nice Dog." Dimitri said, trying as hard as he could not scold Vlad, man! This was not serious.
"Oh, oh, it's marvelous. Aw! I love, I love, I love you." The worst part was that it reminded him of how Vlad had been with him when he was a little kid and he found him roaming through the ruins of the palace. 'You are so cute! Someone has to take care of such a tiny thing! Where are your parents boy? You don't have! Then I'll take care of you!' He should have been a father or a mother, he would have done a splendid mother had he been a woman.
"Let me ask you something, Anya was it ... Is there a last name that goes with that?"
"Well, actually ... This is going to sound crazy ... I don't know my last name. I was found wondering around when I was 8 years old." Could this be anymore perfect? It suited every sport of the story.
"And before that ... before you were eight?" He kept asking, some stupid old part of his mind screaming that this could really be her.
"Look, oh look, I know it's strange but I don't remember. I have very few memories of my past." A plan started to thread in his head with that.
"Hmm, that's, that's perfect." He whispered to Vlad, it was settled already, this was the girl to play the part of Anastasia and get the royal sum.
"Well, I do have one clue, however, and that is Paris." She kept talking .
"Paris." Dimitri repeated amazed by his good luck.
"Right. So, can ... so can you two, help me or not?" Dimitri tilted his head back for a moment to ask Vlad for the tickets.
"Hey, Vlad, Vlad tickets!" Vlad gave him tickets, which actually weren't the train tickets but Moscow Circus Tickets, but he turned to Anya all the same. "Ah sure would like to ... in fact, oddly enough, we're going to Paris ourselves."
"Ah, ah, and I've got three aw ... well, this one not ." Anya tried to grab the tickets.
"Oh, I..."
"Unfortunately the third one is for her, Anastasia." He gestured to Anastasia's portrait in the frieze. Anya looked up to it, he was crazy.
"Oh." The two men took Anya by one arm either and lead her to a portrait of the Empress.
"We are going to reunite the Grand Duchess Anastasia with her grandmother." Said Vladimir.
"You do kind of resemble her." Said Dimitri, holding back another cheshire's cat smile.
"The same blue eyes." Vlad started.
"The Romanov eyes." Dimitri added.
"Nicholas' smile." It was Vlad's turn.
"Alexandra's chin." Then it was Dimitri's.
"Oh, look she even has the grandmother's hands!" Said Vladimir taking her by the hand, but Anya quickly pulled her hand away.
" She's the same age, the same physical type." Dimitri commented lightly.
"Are you trying to tell me that you think that I am Anastasia?" Laugh played in her voice, it was ridiculous!
"All I'm trying to tell you is that I've seen thousands of girls all over the country and not one of them looks as much like the Grand Duchess as you do. I mean look at the portrait." He said matter-of-factly, exaggerating quite a bit, but she wouldn't know.
"I knew you were crazy from the beginning," she said to Dimitri, and then turned to Vladimir. "but now I think you are both mad." And with that, Anya started to walk away.
"Why? You don't remember what happened to you..." Dimitri started.
"No one knows what happened to her." Vladimir continued.
"You're looking for family in Paris." The young man said.
"And her only family is in Paris." Quickly added the older man.
"Ever thought about the possibility?" There it was, the tramp was set and now they just had to wait until their prey fell onto it.
"That I could be royalty?" She said somewhere between incredulous and hopeful.
"MmmHmm." They both nodded.
"Well I don't know ... it's kind of hard to think of yourself as a Duchess when you're sleeping on a damp floor. But sure, yeah, I guess every lonely girl would hope she's a Princess." It didn't take much for her to fantasize again with being a princess. Dimitri, seeing that all was turning out as it should, turned and started to walk away.
"And somewhere ... One little girl is. After all, the name Anastasia means "she will rise again". Vladimir said, exasperating his colleague who had to turn back from the way he had already started to drag him.
"Really wish we could help, but the third ticket is for the Grand Duchess Anastasia. Good luck." Anya sighed sadly, she couldn't believe this was it. That was the only help she would receive?
What if she actually was the princess? What if all her fantasies from earlier were really memories? What if not? They would still take her to Paris, right?
Anya as she fiddled with her necklace and looked at the portrait, she caressed it softly as if was something very dear to her. She looks up at the Empress's face as if looking for an answer, for something that told her that yes, she was her grand daughter.
"Hmm." They would go and if they did, gone was her last chance.
Meantime, Dimitri and Vlad were walking down the stairs.
"Why didn't you tell her about our brilliant plan?"
"All she wants to do is go to Paris. Why give away a third of the reward money."
"I'm telling you ... We're walking away too soon..." Vlad whispered to him.
"Not to worry, I got it all under control, All right.. but walk a little slower. " they walked a couple more of steps down when Dimitri started the regressive count with his fingers:
"Three ... Two ... One."
"Dimitri!" They heard her call him and he smiled victoriously.
"Ha, right in the palm of our hand." Dimitri turned and looked back at Anya on the top of the stairs.
"Dimitri, wait!"
"Di ... Did you call me?" He said as innocently as he could.
"If I don't remember who I am, then who's to say I'm not a princess or a duchess or a whatever she is ... Right?" She said nervously.
"Hmm ... Go on." He said.
"Yeah, and if I'm not Anastasia, the Empress will certainly know right away ... and it's all just an honest mistake." She was growing excited by the idea.
"Sounds plausible." Dimitri said.
"But if you are the princess, then you'll finally know who you are and have your family back." Said Vladimir mildly.
"You know, you know he's right! Either way, it gets you to Paris." Anya put her hand in his for a handshake. Dimitri, was a little taken aback, but he still shook it. Her hand was warm and it sent electric tingles through his skin.
"Right!" She said nervously.
"Right." He grabbed his hand, as if it had been burned. Maybe it had.
