Purple Eyes

Chapter One

Elle’s POV

I don’t know why I ever thought selling tomatoes would be a good idea. They stink when they become rotten, people are too picky about the color, and barely anyone seems to need them. I must have thought, ‘Hey! I’m in Italy, so the people here definitely need tomatoes to cook with!’ and boy, was I wrong. Yes, the Italians are still here, but after the war, everyone dispersed across Europe. There weren’t just Italians here anymore. Instead, the country was mainly overrun with Germans in the lead, British, French, and the occasional Romanian.

I, myself, happened to be good ole American, although I could definitely pass as Aryan with my blonde hair and pale skin. Except for the fact that the Aryan Army had cleared out ages ago once all the Jews had been captured and extinguished. That’s what they did with every country. They left as quickly as they could, moving on to the next space of land. I figured they were now working on Australia or some other outlandish country. It really was a shame what they were doing, but no one tried to stop them. Not even America. We hadn’t even tried 70 years ago when this all started. Now, the Jews were all but a lost race, a rare commodity. I heard once that the Germans planned on invading us. I’d like to see them try.

Finding my face all scrunched up in an odd and threatening smile, I loosened my facial muscles and tried to act pretty and whimsical. If not for myself, then for the possible rare suitors strolling down the street.

I guess I also figured that Italy was the country of love. What a joke. I’d been here two years and not even a “hello” from a friendly male stranger. Oh, I’d gotten looks alright, but not the looks of appreciation a girl strives for. No, they were odd and creepy stares by men double my age and half my expectation. I shouldn’t have projected this life to be any better than the one I had back home.

Oh, how I missed my pack back in the states. We would run and play and romp around in the huge forests that were literally in our backyards. I could run through the miles and miles of pack grounds and not have to worry about humans seeing me in wolf form. We all lived on the same expanse of land, just in different housing arrangements. They were kind and loving and just. Except my alpha-

“No, don’t think about it,” I reprimanded myself. That problem was thousands of miles away. I ran away for a reason and it didn’t need to come back and haunt me every two minutes. I would make it out here just fine on my own.

My pep talk with myself didn’t last very long as I became aware of a customer slowly approaching my tomato stand. He was an old gentleman wearing a matching light brown leather cap and jacket. He also held two empty woven baskets in his left hand and an old-fashioned wood cane in his right, giving him an air of wisdom and modesty. He looked up at me and sweetly smiled an old, wrinkly smile, making me somehow feel safe from any danger. I checked his scent, just to be sure, and just as I thought: he was human. I momentarily glanced behind him at the laughing little girls chasing each other down the street. They had it so easy. Why was I stuck here?

I mentally pushed everything aside and went into full-on selling mode, sitting up straighter and brightening my smile until it reached my eyes. Perfect.

“Hello, sir, how can I help you?” I almost sang in joy. He was my third customer of the day, making it an abnormally good day. Usually, I’d have none, or next to it, of customers. Today, however, was oddly my lucky day.

“Yes, young lady,” he smiled again, reaching out to the stand, “I’d like a bundle of cherry tomatoes, a small tub of plum tomatoes, and – Oh! What do we have here?” he exclaimed pointing at something just out of my view on the stand. I hopped out my chair to see what he was so excited about and found my new merchandise at the end of his pointer finger. He looked at me expectantly.