When Clouds are Gray
From the time the twins were born Anya had been expected to take care of Wanda and Pietro. Her mother didn’t have much patience for kids and Anya was six years old changing diapers and doing midnight feedings. It did not take long for Anya to grow to resent her mother who was making her grow up too fast. Anya would always love her mother but the woman was a selfish woman who would rather be out at the pubs with her new uncle of the week.
Despite her disdain for her mothers actions Anya loved the twins fiercely. They were something she had left of her papa. Her mother wouldn’t go find him for her; she would only get mad and drink when she was asked about him.
Anya only knew two things about her father 1: his name was Max Eisenhardt 2: he loved her very much and if he knew she were alive he would still be there. Her mother would always tell her that she was lucky that he thought she was dead because he was a psycho. Anya never believed her, the few memories of him that she had left were good memories of a young man with a kind smile who would take her for ice cream.
She remembered that her papa loved her with a fierceness that she tried to replicate with Wanda and Pietro. He mother had never really cared for her much even when her Papa was around. Sure she would pretend to be a doting mother putting on a show for everyone including Papa; but when nobody was around it was as if Anya didn’t exist. It hadn’t been unusual for her mother to go talk to her friends and leave Anya all by herself in their fourth floor walk up. Where her Papa was over protective her mother just didn’t seem to care all that much.
Anya would daydream sometimes during the night when she was giving one of the twins a bottle that her daddy would come and rescue them from mama like he had rescued her from the fire. She just wished she could be a normal little girl like the other girls in her class. She was the weird kid, she had a funny accent and she wore old dirty clothes that were a few sizes too small. She had hated that her Mama had moved them to the US. She said it was for a better life but Anya didn’t see how it was any better. Mama still drank too much and often forgot about them.
Anya was a strong girl though and she could handle what was thrown at her. So what if she didn’t have pretty blond hair and light eyes like the other little girls. Papa said she looked like her Bobe and he said her Bobe was the prettiest woman he had seen besides mama. Anya would be strong like her Bobe and like her Papa, if not for herself than for Wanda and Pietro. They would have an easier time in school as they wouldn’t have a funny accent.
Anya just couldn’t wait for the day that she was old enough to go find him. She would try to play out scenarios in her head of what the meeting would be like. Her papa would swoop her into his arms and give her a hug like he used to, then the two would set off to get the twins and they would be a happy little family.
***
Anya was eight now and things had gotten better and worse. The twins were old enough to sleep through the night and no longer required a diaper but her mama kept spiraling even further. Anya just kicked her feet as she walked to school hoping that mama wouldn’t forget about the twins while she wasn’t there. Much of Anya’s days were spent worrying over her siblings instead of her school work. She quite often got rapped on the knuckles for daydreaming.
“Look it’s the ugly poor gypsy” One of the boys in her class bullied as she moved to stand at the bus stop. That’s all she was to the kids in school the weird poor gypsy girl. Anya didn’t know where the kids had picked up the gypsy bit; she was Jewish not Roma; not that it should matter anyway. They probably held the same hatred for Jewish people as they did the Romani, the Nazi party may have gone down in a ball of fire but their ideals still lived on unfortunately. She had read in the library that the Romani people had been hunted like the Jewish people during the war as well.
“At least I’m not a fat little toad” She spat in Yiddish at the boy who’s eyes grew bright with anger. The boy was a tub of lard with a bowl haircut but somehow he was still more popular than Anya.
“Are you trying to curse me you gypsy!!!” He threatened her by poking her with his sausage-like finger.
“No you moron I called you fat” she deadpanned in English glaring at the boy.
“At least I’m not a poor little starved Gypsy with holes in her shoes” he spat venom in every word. Anya was self conscious about her old boots her mama had but some black tape over the top but it was obvious that there was a sizable hole in the top of each shoe.
“Maybe I should curse you” She said knowing it would scare the boy and his eyes widened in fear. He lashed out pushing her down and she landed in a puddle the back of her skirt soaked through. It had been just in time for the school bus to pull up to pick them up.
Anya boarded the bus with a long suffering sigh taking a seat near the back. Before she could get set down William decided to open his fat mouth again.
“Look the ugly gypsy peed on herself what a baby” Anya did her best to ignore the staring and laughter or worse the bus drivers pity. Anya sat down by herself and willed herself not to cry, it was times like this that she wanted her daddy to come swoop in and save her. She just wanted to be a little girl.
***
Anya’s life didn’t necessarily get better in the years that came and while the twins got better at helping her take care of them the kids at school only got meaner. They would call her a commie because of her foreign accent, they would try to say her mama was a spy. That particular rumor was actually a little funny because Magda Maximoff as she went by now would be a horrible spy, didn’t you have to be sober to do good spying?
She was in the kitchen getting their lunches ready for school the next morning. Wanda was helping her, the auburn haired little girl wanted desperately to be considered mature for her age. Anya would frequently remind her that being mature for your age wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. Anya placed the lunches into the fridge and pulled out the chicken she had bought at the market so she could prepare dinner.
“Chicken again?!?” Wanda whined and Anya smiled, Wanda may pretend to be mature but she was still a five year old girl at heart. Anya was thankful for that, she didn’t want the twins to go through what she had.
“Wanda, we could afford chicken or we could afford ground beef. Is chicken really that bad” Anya asked the girl and in response Wanda wrinkled her nose.
“I guess your right please no more hamburger helper” Wanda made fake gagging sounds.
“I know that’s why I got chicken” Anya teased and even though all she could afford were the worst cuts of chicken it was still better than hamburger helper.
“Also don’t call me Wanda I want to go by Wendy and Pietro wants to go by Peter. The kids think we have weird names” she reasoned with her elder sister. Anya knew exactly what it was like to have a weird name so she didn’t mind that the twins wanted to Americanize their name. Her thoughts went back to her papa and she wondered briefly what he would think of the twins decision; her papa had always been an idealistic man who said you should be proud of who you are. She was sure he would love them as much as he loved her nevertheless.
“Pietro get down here and take out the trash” Wanda didn’t wait for the order she started cracking at the dishes. Their mother Magda had just rounded the corner of the kitchen. She was dressed in her tall boots and Anya knew she was going to the bar. Her thought process was cut off when a little blur made his way to the kitchen. Like Pietro was actually moving too fast for human eyes to see. Pietro stopped looking around stunned.
“Why were you all moving so slow?” He asked and while Anya was staring in wonder her mother looked horrified. Pietro gave them both a winning grin, and then it happened his dark hair started turning from its natural dark auburn to a shade between gray and silver. Anya was happy Pietro was special like her Papa had been.
“Oh my god” Magda stumbled back away from Pietro.
“Mama what’s wrong?” Pietro asked his mother.
“Monster!” she muttered and both Anya and Wanda saw red. Anya’s rage didn’t do anything that normal human rage wouldn’t do but Wanda’s was something else. The little girl's eyes started glowing red as tears streamed down her face.
Anya knelt down beside her little sister and pulled her into a fierce hug that Pietro quickly joined. Anya just held her siblings comforting them and Anya winced when she heard the door slam.
“Why doesn’t mama like us” the little girl cried a tear rolling down her freckled cheeks. So Anya told them about how their papa was special like them. Anya opened the locket residing around the thirteen year old's neck.
Inside was a small picture of a smiling man and a spot next to him to put another photo. There had once been a photo of her mother there but in a fit of rage Anya had torn it out. Her mother wasn’t really much of a mother but her father loved her very much and she knew he would love the twins.
“That’s papa right” Pietro’s small voice asked.
“Yes mama told me he made me this locket for my sixth birthday but he thought I died. Mama never bothered to correct him once I woke up. I’ll never forgive her for that” Anya said, brushing her fingers herself over the smooth oval shape.
“Why did she did that” Wanda asked, still reeling from her mothers rejection. Their mother was negligent at best and abusive at worse but she had never been cruel. Well she hadn’t up until today when all that went out the window and she called her children monsters before running away.
“Do honey.” Anya corrected “Mama was always scared of papa because he was special” Anya said and she and the twins just sat on the kitchen floor comforting each other, the chicken lay forgotten on the counter.