The Ballad of Anastasia
Sure, I could tell a love story, brimming with emotion and desire. That’s just not what this was. There were no white knights whisking away the distressed damsel from the high tower. No passionate love scenes that could churn the spirit of horny teenage boys. This story is much more subtle in its strength. The kind of love that will hold and tighten when a romantic entanglement might fail. My story, is about the woman who became my sister.
I first met Anastasia in a night club. It wasn’t the largest or the hottest place to dance in town. Miami has thousands of clubs and bars all trying to become the best or the most attractive. This one was one of those clubs that was just happy to be serving customers. It was old and seemingly run down but the dance floor was clean and the bartenders very well trained. They brought in new bands and DJs waiting to be discovered, and frequently given the shot of a lifetime. All part of the charm that made this place exceptional in a world of shiny. I enjoyed going to this particular place to get my work done. Frequently I could be seen sitting in the corner booth with papers spread out and my laptop open to one of a dozen websites, or furiously scribbling notes onto a yellow pad with all the fervor of a raging bull. It is not an activity commonly found in a place like a dance bar. I built the habit over years while in college driving my drunk friends out to dance and back home again. So long as there are no idiots or drink tossers nearby I have found the practice quite peaceful. Somehow a raging drum beat and lively crowd would create a tunnel like focus in which I was able to operate and work. This practice did not last very long after Anastasia entered my world. On an exorbitantly hot, late summer evening, the type of evening that seemed to weigh heavily from the heat and humidity, is when I first spotted her. She was a breathtaking sight for anyone with any sense of beauty. Her lightly bronzed skin so perfect seemed to flow around her body like it wasn’t attached but willed into place by a superior force. Her hair was so disciplined that every movement on the dance floor was enhanced by the idea that her hair was dancing right along with her unlike the tossing and bouncing of simple mortal hair. Interestingly enough, these high points were overshadowed by the movie star quality outfit she was wrapped. Three shades of white swirled and flowed through the dress in a way that highlighted everything about her body in the most flattering way possible. Everyone in the bar was enthralled by her beauty, and the grace with which she moved through the dances. The men were eager to make her acquaintance, and I, like all the other ladies there, were so desperately jealous that many of them had begun to turn into angry staring and small slaps of their dancing counterparts. On the other hand, I was a different sort of vision, with a fan tank top of my favorite television show and a loose hair bun held together by a pencil. I did have a lot of work to do that night, but my usual intense focus was easily cut by the specimen floating around the room. She was just so alluring to watch, not because she could dance nicely, or because she was beautiful, but because of what can only be described as her aura. It was as if the whole world and everything in it was built for her, and fit her exactly as was intended, and the rest of us were just as much a part of that as the swirls in her dress. She fit perfectly while the rest of us were slightly askew.
Now being envious of the most beautiful person was nothing new for me. That was my status pretty much anytime I wasn’t alone in the room. However, having the most beautiful person suddenly alight in the booth next to me and start reading my work notes had never once happened.
“Hi. Whatcha workin on?”
“Uh, what?’
“Ooooh. Q3 results, Q4 status, and Q1 projections. That sounds like the most interesting fun a person could have in a place like this.” The slight mocking tone in her voice seemed to contradict the eagerness of her eyes as they absorbed the information spread across the table. The sheer shock of having this person sit down here was a little too much to handle, until of course she began moving notebooks and papers around. My mess may look chaotic, but it’s the kind of mess that I made with a purpose.
“Hey! Don’t touch those. I need those right here.” I began to turn a little red with anger from this strange intrusion and nervousness from having this specific person intrude. “How can I help you?”
“Oh yes, very professional. Your name is Tulip right? Pretty sure that’s what the bartender said.” Everything out of this rude lady’s mouth dripped with sarcasm and mockery. “You are already helping me my dear. I needed a clean getaway after playing with that smartly dressed group of lads over there and these books simply repel.” Glancing over I could see the boys, the hunt filling their eyes as they stalked this bird. But this table clearly seemed to create a small blind spot, for they never approached. They appeared to be waiting for her timely exit.
“What were you playing that you would need a clean getaway?” Her eyes sparkled as though I had answered an unasked question, followed by a slowly growing smirk. The way that this woman looked was equal parts unnerving and alluring.
“One of my many games I play. Look around you, everyone in this place is searching for some form of entertainment. My games give them all exactly that.”
“I don’t understand. What kind of games?” Clearly this person was a little bit crazy, and I really needed to finish that work. It was time to pack up and let the insane lady have the place to herself.
“Any kind will do sweetie. I play games on people to challenge and entertain. Would you like a demonstration?”
“Okay, do I need to do anything?” Why? Why would I agree to something so ridiculous as playing a crazy game with a crazy lady in a bar?
“Not much. Do you see that young man sitting at the table over by the wall? Out of the way, but with a great view of this seat?” Scanning the club and regretting that I agreed to play along, I spotted what looked to be some kid, who may have used a fake ID to get into the bar. Having found him I noticed he averted his eyes almost immediately. Clearly a shy kid who was watching us sit here.
“Very young kid with the glasses?”
“That’s the one. He has been watching you for nearly an hour, obviously trying to build up the courage to talk to you, or catch your eye in some manner.”
“What about him?”
“Patience. This is your game after all, we don’t want to rush anything. Now, all I want you to do is just watch him. Don’t look away, stare right at him and don’t stop until I say you should. Deal?” My mind shouted out a resounding “No!” that landed on deaf ears. I wanted no part of this game and yet my voice rebelled and agreed. Her face flowed into the most predatory version of itself and I knew that no matter what I did, there would be some kind of trouble. And yet, I kept rushing in to take part of it. Finding the boy again I watched his eyes as they were doing as they had been before, looking everywhere else but this table. Yet, as expected, his eyes eventually contacted with mine, and the staring was on. This time though, they didn’t look away. His eyes exploded in size and his jaw fell onto the floor, while every other muscle in his body seemed to go completely rigid. What was he looking at to make him react that way I thought. And that is when in noticed her. Somehow, I missed it when she leaned in, and began to kiss my neck. Her warm lips turned to ice on my skin, sending a deep chill along my spine. Once again my mind screamed out, lashing expletives and fancy strings of insults towards her. Once again those screams never escaped. Instead I just sat there, staring at some boy, with a face that I am certain looked more like I was annoyed that he witness this deed than the actual deed itself. That kiss seemed to go on forever, his stare frozen in lock with mine, and why was I allowing this to continue? Suddenly, the kid turned various shades of red or pink, and regained his senses. He reacted like a man who had just travelled forward in time unexpectedly, by taking stock of his surroundings, understanding where he was, and then rushing towards the door with what appeared to be enthusiasm. In truth, the whole thing lasted at most, a dozen seconds. However for myself, and that boy, it seemed to last hours.
Watching as he nearly knocked over a tray filled with drinks in his daring escape, I heard a small giggle in the seat with me. Amusement splashed all over her, and her laughter escaping is when my mind and body finally agreed, my anger was ready to flow. “What the ever-lovin shit was that? Who do you think you are that you can just come over here and kiss me like it’s no big deal?”
“That was you, running game on that lad. Nicely done too! I severely underestimated you. I expected you to lose your calm almost immediately. Instead that boy is going to have a story and a memory to entertain himself for quite some time. You go you good thing!”
The shock of such a thing was breathtaking. “I…You…I never. What the hell! I didn’t do anything, I just sat here like an idiot. This is what you do? I don’t think I want any part of these games because you’re clearly a crazy person.” My tirade was beginning to elevate over the music, it was now time to get the hell away from this person. Her amusement only deepened as I finished my minor temper tantrum and packed my belongings into my work bag.
“Oh sweetie, we had been playing since I walked over here and I must say, you have been most enjoyable to be around.” Smiling even brighter than before, she extricated herself from the booth and swayed away. I on the other hand, was still reeling from the shock of this game. Much like the boy, I regained my composure, and escaped the club completely unsure of what to make of it all.
The entire way back home I asked question after question, reasoned every reason, making Socrates proud trying to understand the meaning of this night. My mind burned with thought even after I made it back to my apartment, placed my bag on my tiny corner desk, and readied for bed. All I could come up with was that she was an insane inmate or something and that I was just as crazy for playing a part. The next morning, it was like a strange dream. The memories colored from anger to amusement because the face that boy made truly was hilarious to see. More of the memory started to come into focus as well. The bartender in the background also enjoyed the kiss as he dried a glass with his towel. The sorority girls and their disgusted faces turning towards their dates, only to find them also enthralled in my game. All throughout my morning routine, breakfast, showering, dressing for work, I giggled and laughed as new visions of the memory appeared. By the time I was done up and ready to leave, I was outright roaring with laughter at the whole event. That crazy person was right, I had been entertained for hours now by one memory. It seemed like fate then that as soon as I came to that realization, I found her note, hanging out of my notebook. A small bar napkin with neat handwriting read “Tomorrow, Cottonwood Coffee, 4PM.” I knew the place, a small coffee shop not too far from the club with outdoor tables and delicious treats. And I couldn’t wait to find out what was in store for me.
The coffee shop is nowhere near the office, so I left work early and took a taxi. The workday had been stressful but everything still flowed nicely and all issues that arose throughout I handled deftly. The whole day I had a smile and an attitude that I will certainly say came from my unexpected meeting the night before, and my future encounter in the afternoon. My excitement actually grew the entire ride over to the shop, all the while I knew I was mad for thinking this was going to be fun. I still remember arriving, and seeing her sitting there at her table, appearing to own the place. Once again the whole world seemed to revolve around her. The servers smile was just a bit larger when he walked by, the light breeze slowed even more as it passed her so not to disturb the setting, even the flies struggled to come within the immediate area. Wherever she went, perfection followed. On the table was paper with some stunning calligraphy drawn. She must have been here a while. “Good afternoon. What are you working on?”
She folded up the letter artfully and sealed it in the envelope that matched the letter. “Oh, I am writing a letter to a friend. She is very upset with loss and I know this will truly make her day. She will smile when she receives it I can nearly guarantee. I am very glad you came.”
I sat across from her at the small outdoor table with eagerness like a child and a new toy. I just could not wait to see what was going to happen next. “I am sorry I stormed out last night. Everything then was very odd and I was flustered with how it happened. This morning though, when I woke up, I found the whole thing awfully funny and chuckled about it the entire day.”
She began to laugh a little. “That boys face lit up in the strangest way didn’t it? And the way he vaulted out of there was just as glorious as I had hoped.” Her laugh was so infectious that I started right along with her. “You though, were perfect for that. The way you stared directly at him, never moving, even gave me pause for a moment. You were wonderfully relaxed while simply strong. Just the way you have always meant to be.”
“I did not intend to be anything. I wanted to push you away and scream long before he ran out of there. I don’t understand it, I was locked there, unable to move. How did you do that to me?”
Smiling she took a quick sip of her foamy latte, ruining the cute little coffee hearts on top. “I did nothing to keep you anywhere. That kind of internal struggle happens to everyone when ones true self and imaginary self are in conflict. That time, who you truly are shined through like the bright sun during a thunderstorm.”
“My true self? I’m not holding any multiple personalities up here.”
“But of course you are sweetie. Most everyone does it would appear. It’s not in the medical sense where you would be hospitalized naturally. People generally just learn to compartmentalize when they are young to behave and act a certain way in certain situations. Pretending to be the good daughter in one setting while the wild child in a completely differing one. Doing that long enough creates the multiple personalities.” This whole line of thinking was leaving me dumbstruck. It was the kind of logic that makes so much sense that no one would look at the overall fallacy.
“Would you then believe that behaving as the wild child in the wrong setting wouldn’t cause an issue? That compartmentalization keeps the world flowing doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Yes it does. The problem never seems to be that people do in fact adjust their personalities based on the social situation. The fun begins when those people forget who they truly are, and just act in every situation. Because when someone like me comes along and runs game, their acting usually falters and the results are genuinely entertaining.”
“Okay, but don’t people get mad? What happens then?”
“Well, you’re here. You tell me.” She was right. I was more or less invaded the night before by a kiss, upset and unnerved I stormed out. Now I find the whole situation amusing and silly. Certainly not everyone would feel the same way I do right now, but it’s quite possible more than the average would.
“This just isn’t normal. You are not a normal person to deal with.”
“Maybe so, but sweetie, you don’t even know who you are to begin with. So I might suggest if anyone here is abnormal, it clearly isn’t me. Hi, my name is Anastasia.”
The next few hours were what seemed like a crash course in understanding. Understanding myself as a person, understanding people at large, and understanding how we interact. I felt like I was back in school trying to decipher the world’s mysteries only this time it was from some crazy lady. I was completely hooked and loving every minute of this new experience. She told me of the many games she has played and the reactions of the people she played. We discussed why people might react to her in one way or another and why it was important. But one thing was perfectly clear, people were entertained by a new and strange memory.
From that day we ran game. We played pranks on people whenever we were together, and because it was so much fun to entertain people, we were together a lot. We would stage mock fights to liven up a quiet crowd, or boost the confidence in some shy person by making them seem like they were much more popular. On one very slow night, together with a willing accomplice, we were able to superglue the shoes of a grouchy bouncer to the floor with him still stuck in them. He was so impressed with the prank that he bought us a round of drinks afterward. Some of our best ones we ran just so we could offer a gesture of goodwill afterwards. Near where I lived, a homeless man frequented a park bench to sleep, and he was such a sound sleeper that not much would wake him up. We were able to attach some wheels to the bench, and push him six blocks away to a storage facility. We left him there with three hundred dollars and a new pair of shoes. The things that Anastasia would think up were masterpieces of oddity and entertainment. The most interesting thing to happen in those four weeks however, was my entire attitude on life began to reform. I was no longer a girl doing her homework, or any work, alone in a club. Everything seemed to flow more naturally in every aspect of my life. I could work hard for my boss and still head out to the dance floor with Anastasia later that evening without feeling like I was falling behind. When I had setbacks in one area of my life, I could deal with them more astutely as opposed to giving the problem control.
Anastasia then became everything to me. Friend, confidant, teacher, she played many roles and played them easily. It was not long before I started running game on my own, playing with people from work or even my apartment building. I had begun morphing into something that was much closer to my true self than the actress I had been playing for many years, and people responded positively to it. At work I went from quiet and hardworking to the social butterfly that brought up the standard for the rest of the company. My apartment complex managers began to ask for me to help them with problem tenants, and the tenants would ask me to help them with just about everything. When an opportunity rose to spread entertainment and joy, I found a way to use it. Afterward I would be so eager to share those antics with Anastasia that we would talk and giggle on the phone if we couldn’t meet in person. One day I couldn’t wait to tell her about a presentation I had at work. I had a ten slide presentation to give to the CEO and his management team as part of a business review. I was able to hide thirty six cats in the slides. After the fifth slide the CEO began laughing and demanded that when the actual presentation was over, we would go back through and find all the cats. It was such a good meeting that I needed to tell her about it immediately.
“Hello?” A man’s voice was the last thing I expected to be hearing from her mobile phone. Obviously she would be entitled to a little male influence but for him to be answering her phone would be clearly suspect.
“Hello. I may have a wrong number but is this the mobile phone of Anastasia?”
“Yes. Yes it is, the screen is showing Tulip. Hello Tulip, I am Anastasias younger brother Alex.”
She has died. Three little words that set my world blazing. Alex didn’t give details over the phone that day. He just let me know they were at the hospital and that I should rush straight there. When I arrived, I was embraced by her family, and learned about her condition. Evidently she had an inoperable aneurism that could burst if she wasn’t careful. It ruptured and she died, alone in her home, within minutes. She had been able to dial the emergency number before passing but was not able to survive their arrival. I was crushed, broken to the point of numbness. Her brother, who apparently knew exactly who I was, took me home and left me to cry and wail over the loss. Most of that week I spent walking throughout my apartment leaving a trail of tears and questioning everything. I called out of work, dodged phone calls, didn’t dress or even eat. Three days I wallowed in pure despair and truly had no hope for leaving my little crying hole. I might still be there now if Alex hadn’t come back to make sure I attended the funeral. I didn’t really want to go, but he was insistent and with a smile said that he would pick me up, wrap me in a blanket, and take me there like a little baby if he had to. Alex was enormous with muscles that seemed to protrude unnaturally from everywhere. Anastasia used to call him “Bear” because of his size and strength. I decided that I would go willingly because I knew Alex would be true to his word and quite literally drag me down there.
The funeral was very large. There were really only a dozen seats available and all of them were given to some family member except mine. I offered to let someone else have the seat but Alex just held my hand and asked me to stay. I could see the loss in his eyes, and somehow just the small gesture of having me sit there helped him. I couldn’t refuse her only brother this small concession, so I remained. Anastasia was very well known and the field where she was buried filled with black suits and dresses. So much so that one might think she was the leader of a small country and everyone was supposed to attend. My goal for that day was just to keep my composure long enough to get back home. I never did run out of tears at home, but there, in that field, I was dried up and had to stay that way. I was succeeding through the various speakers that stood to express their gratefulness for knowing her. Each person who spoke seemed to relay their grief and sorrow, and express how they may have been impacted.
She helped me see the enjoyment in nearly every situation. She made me break out of my shell. She gave me new confidence in my abilities. I was always smiling and laughing when she was around. She made all the small tasks much more fun. She gave me new reasons to keep going forward. She was the distraction I needed when life was spiraling. Everything was just much more fun when she was around.
In my short time with her I felt all this, possibly more. I aimed to become a better person and help the people around me do the same. In just a few short months, I had grown to love this person and see her like my family. It’s likely she had no idea the impact she had on me but for all intents and purposes, I had gained a sister that I could rely and depend on. It is likely that many others had felt the same way that I had. Suddenly Anastasia’s brother was saying it was my turn. My mind screamed, my body chilled, and my pain was so enraged that I couldn’t get up to speak in front of all these people. There was no way I would keep it together. Alex gripped my hand lightly, and though I whimpered in protest, I rose from my seat and let him lead me to the casket which held my sister. Perfection, once again. She looked absolutely perfect as always, and somehow was grinning while she lay there. Her lips flowing in that little dastardly smirk she always wore when running game. ‘Challenge them’ I heard from somewhere deep in my mind. ‘Give them the entertainment they need’ it said again. The game was on.
“When I was young I had witnessed a forest fire roaring through the mountains in Colorado. The way the flames danced along the ground, consuming the brush and giving it a blaze of heat and fire, was inspiring and terrifying to watch. I knew that if I came too close I would easily be burned as well, yet the whole scene was too beautiful to look away. Anastasia was a lot like that wild fire. Graceful and quick, she would dance through a crowd and effect everyone in the vicinity, sometimes with her beauty, but mostly with her ability to move to the heart of a person. Most of us here have been burned by her lithe wit and sharp tongue and would smile every time it happened. She gave us laughter, and smiles, and encouragement, and all those many things mentioned. We had only just begun to play together when her blaze was extinguished and raging cut short, yet, that time will be held as the best of times, and sorely missed. What she gave to us is immense, and we should all be grateful for those gifts. But since she can’t hear me, I’m going to say what she received from me. I gave her my smiles and laughter, my respect and love. I gave her my own grace and wit and she enjoyed every bit of it.”
Only two faces were smiling as I spoke, Anastasia and Alex. Everyone else appeared to look shocked and horrified. Hundreds of faces, eyes wide with confusion, jaws dropping onto the floor, stared directly at me. And just like the boy in the bar, they were entertained. Who stands up at a funeral and talks about how great they are, or how the deceased benefitted from them? No one ever thinks about what is exchanged between two people. As everyone pointed out, they only saw what they received from their friends. Why not try to understand what the other party receives from our exchanges? This is what Anastasia did and did well. She wasn’t looking to gain from her antics. She was looking to give with them. I walked around, kissed her on the cheek, smiled and left. I had just run game on a funeral, and I couldn’t have been happier.
After the funeral I had regained much of my composure, and decided to celebrate Anastasia by going on holiday. The letter arrived just as I was leaving by a bike messenger and sealed in a delivery pouch. I threw it in my bag quick and headed out to spend a few days on a resort beach and more than one drink. Hours later I had exactly that. A Caribbean beach with the ocean at the end of it was rolling waves back and forth like the swaying of a melody. The night was clear and warm and yet, bon fires littered the beach from the various parties playing along the water’s edge. The beachfront bar had some small tables and chairs in the sand, but it was mostly empty because people would just take their drinks out to the fires or near the water. When I arrived in my room and began placing my things for the stay, I found the pouch again and inspected the letter. Tulip artfully drawn on the face of the envelope in beautiful calligraphy. I recognized it instantly, the letter from the coffee shop. I wasn’t ready to read it at that time, but now with the chorus of the ocean and the flickering of the fires, an amusing smile, and not to mention a smooth beverage, I am ready.
Oh my dear Tulip,
I am so sorry that you had to find out the way that you did. I truly hope that it was not as bad as I imagine that it could be, and pray we had a significant amount of time together. Yesterday, just hours before we met, I learned that I have at the very most, months to live due to an aneurism which cannot be dealt with. My response was to do as I always do, and play my games and spread my joy to as many people as I could. Seeing you there in the club last night working, made me feel like you had run a game on me, and I laughed about it so much that I had to show you. When I kissed you, your reaction was that of a stone cold player and I knew I had a future. I must confess that this game is in my own interest, so that I will carry on through you, to continue my sharing and entertaining. I have always had a duty to assault the commonplace with my gifts, and now I unleash my greatest gift of all…Tulip. Just remember, if you ever need a smile, make someone else smile, because you might catch one in return.
-Stasia