TALES FROM FALLEN WARRIORS ─ marvel

III. The Anastasia

Chapter Three
Soroya

The drive from Kazan to St. Petersburg is long, but I don't mind it. It's better than flying, which would require getting a fake passport and ID and I don't have the time or patience to retrieve those right now.

And driving gives me time to myself. It gives me time to turn on the radio, listen to 40's and 50's music, and drown out the rest of the world.

Right now Skeeter Davis's song 'The End of the World' is playing on the radio, and I have the window pulled down, allowing a cool breeze to blow into my stolen car. It's nice. Almost peaceful. I never get to listen to music anymore, and whenever I have the chance, I savor every moment of it, just like I savor it when I sing to Caden. Listening to these songs brings me closer to my parents, it allows me to feel, for a brief moment, that they'r here with me, and not god knows how far away. As I listen, I can almost hear Mama's voice singing along, see Papa's smile and look of pure bliss at hearing her voice. I can hear Alex groan and beg us to change the channel because he hates this kind of music.

It feels so real...but it isn't. My family isn't here. They're gone, missing, out of reach.

The next song to come on the radio is Sheb Wooley's 'The Purple People Eater', and my pain and longing is once again briefly put at ease. I remember this song fondly from my childhood, it was favorite of mine. There were a couple months when I was five or six years old that I would demand my parents sing this song to me every night before sleep, after Mama sang me 'Moon River' of course. I can almost hear their voices singing along, and I can't help but sing along as well.

"It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater, a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater, sure looks strange to me. Well he came down to earth and he laid in the tree, I said 'Mr. Purple People Eater, don't eat me'. I heard him say in a voice so gruff 'I wouldn't eat you 'cause you're so tough'. It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater. A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater, sure looks strange to me."

Mama used to mimick the squeaky high voice of said 'purple people eater' when she sang the song to me, and the memory puts a smile on my lips as I continue singing.

"I said 'Mr. Purple People Eater, what's your line?'And he said, 'Eatin' purple people and it sure is fine, but that's not the reason that I came to land.
I wanna get a job in a rock and roll band'. Well bless my soul, rock and roll, flyin' purple people eater. Pigeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin' purple people eater, friendly little people eater, what a sight to see.
And then he swung from the tree and he laid on the ground, and he started to rock, really rockin' around, It was a crazy ditty with a swingin' tune; 'Sing a bop-bop aboopa-lopa, loom bam-boom'. Well bless my soul, rock and roll, flyin' purple people eater, Pigeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin' purple people eater. Quite a sight to see."

I feel my cheeks grow wet and I realize I've started to cry. My smile begins to dim, my voice cracking as I finish the final lines.

"Well he went on his way, and then what do ya know, I saw him last night on a TV show. He was blowing it out, really knockin' em dead, playin' rock and roll music through the horn in his head."

As the horn solo takes over, I choke out a sob, the ache in my chest so acute that it feels like I can't breathe, like the air around me has vanished entirely. I quickly turn the channel and it lands on a talk show station, and as I listen to the babble of the show's hosts, I try to calm down, but it's impossible. Nothing can calm me down or ease my pain because my family isn't here with me.