Chapter Six        

A Picture worth A Thousand Words

The next day had to be the longest day in my life.  Sure the upside was that my mom was officially gone for the weekend, so I had the van to drive myself to school, and the house all to myself.  However, every single class seemed to drag on so much longer than I remembered.  Not to mention with the lack of sleep from the past few nights, I was jittery from all the caffeine in my system from coffee, and probably with impatience.

“Lisa, what is the matter with you?  Stop shaking the table.” Eric said as he reached to catch his drink from spilling.

“Yeah, why are you so jittery?” Mandy commented at lunch.

“Uh?” I said as came back to earth from planet questions and daydreams.

“What’s with you?” Eric asked again.

“Sorry, I’m just ready for this school day to be over.”

“Wait you actually want to go see your great grandmother today? Who are you and what have done with my Lisa?” Mandy said as she gave me a weird look before she smiled.

“Yeah I guess I am, well and the fact I’m going to force her to tell me what I need to know about our family.” I said with a smirk.

“There we go, aw look Mandy; our little Russian Spy is getting the hang of it, learning to threaten people, and to possibly torture.” Eric replied with a grin.

“Ha, well I only want to do this so I can beat your butt at Valedictorian.” I said as I picked up my tray as the lunch bell rang loudly, signally that lunch period was over.

“Psssh, whatever, you know what go ahead, to tell you the truth it’s been so lonely being in first place all by myself.  There’s no competition this year without you.” He said as we walked towards our next classes. I smiled back as I thought about the last three years of high school.  He and I had always tied for first in our class every year except this year. Stupid World History!

The second half of the school day continued like the first half. Except in my opinion, time passed extremely more slowly.  However, when the final bell rung I had never left school so fast, in all of my life. 

As I drove, more questions entered my mind; just what exactly was I going to ask Nunna?  How is she going to react? What if my mind is just exaggerating all of this? Did she know about Leon Vasiliev and what he was, or who he was when she married him? And then I came up with the only solution, I’m not going to know until I sit down and talk to her, really talk to her.

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They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but what about a thousand questions?  That’s exactly how I felt as I glanced down at the photograph in my hand before knocking on Nunna’s door before entering.

Knock, Knock, Knock

This was it; I needed all the courage that I had for this, thought to myself as I entered the room was the same as it always was, and even like the last time there sat my great grandmamma by the window in her wheelchair.

“Hey Nunna, it’s me Annalisa.” I said softly as I walked over and leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek.  Except, she didn’t give me the nod that she always gave my mother, no my Nunna just kept staring out the window as if I never said a word. Alright if this was how it was going to be, then we were going to have to play this question and answer game my way, I thought to myself, as I pulled up another chair and stared out the window, like I always did.

“So, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said on Thursday, Nunna.  What I can’t understand is why you don’t want me to research our family, your family?” I said softly as I watched her.  But she didn’t say a word; she kept staring out the window, ignoring me.

“Nunna, do you know of the name Leon Vasiliev?” I asked softly as I continued to watch for any reaction, yet got nothing.

I wasn’t going to give up, I had to know, this wasn’t about a stupid class project anymore, I had to know who my great grandmamma was, who my father was, and more importantly, who was I really?

 “Nunna, do you remember these photographs?” I asked as I reached over and placed the photographs on the windowsill.  As soon as I placed them down, her eyes shifted down and became wide.  Her fragile hand slowly moved up to hold the pictures closer to her eyes. And then as I saw a tear slide down her cheek, so she did recognize them.  Did that mean the woman in the photograph was her? Or did she know who the woman was?

“Where…Where did you find these?” Nunna asked slowly as she kept staring at the photographs.

“They were, they were in some boxes that belonged to Dad.” I said as I reached over to grab some tissues for her. Yet she just shook her head at them.

“Nunna, is that you in the photographs?” I asked slowly, not knowing if she’d finally start to answer my questions. I was expecting silence, but to my surprise she just nodded. Okay, so this was a good start, I thought.

“And, in that photograph with the baby, is that Leon Vasiliev? Your husband?” Again, she nodded.

“Nunna, Mr. Poloski, my history teacher, showed me this book and it had information about Leon and his role in the Russian Revolution, and who his father was.  Nunna, they called him a traitor, and then they said that he was captured by Romanov supporters.” I said as I began to gain more confidence while talking to her.

“A traitor you say? Hmmm I guess in some eyes they would think that, but no my dear, your great grandpapa was not a traitor.  He was on the contrary, a savior.”  She said as she looked up at me with tears still in her eyes and a small smile as she spoke.

“Annalisa, I haven’t been fair to you over these last eighteen years.  Nor was I fair to your father and grandmamma. You have to understand I did not and do not tell of our family because I wish to protect you from what others might do.” She said as she looked at me with intense, blue eyes.

“Nunna? What do you mean? Why would you have to protect us, if Leon wasn’t a traitor?” I asked; my head had so many questions spinning around.

She held up her hand to silence me.

“Annalisa.  Hush. Answer this one question for me before I choose to continue.  Why do you want to know?” She asked in what I now recognized as her graceful, authoritative voice.

For a moment I couldn’t speak, I had thought about the questions I was going to ask, preparing myself for all the answers, and despite my obvious answers, I just couldn’t speak right away.  This was it, was Nunna really going to tell me everything?  There was only one way to find out.

 “Because I finally realize that without knowing where I come from, without knowing my history, I am no one.  I am lost.  I have to know.  This is more important to me than my history assignment; this is about who you are, who my father is, and who I am.  This is about knowing the truth.  I have to know, I have to know.” I said with tears in my eyes.  I was never the one for crying in front of people, I saved that for later times when I was alone.  Yet, here I was with tear drops sliding down my face, at the mercy for some kind of truthful answer from a great grandmother who until several days ago never acknowledged I even existed.

With a nod she turned back towards the window.  Was my answer not the answer that she wanted to hear?  Is she going to ignore me and everything I said? I began to wonder. However, not but a moment later she spoke.

 “The red leather box on the top shelf in the back right hand corner, get it for me.” Nunna commanded as she raised her shaky hand and pointed towards the closet.

 I got up at once and stood up on a stool to fetch the red box that was covered with decade’s worth of dust.  I stared at it for a moment before blowing off and rubbing off the dust revealing some sort of golden engraved design on the top, which seemed to look familiar to me.

 “Bring it to me Annalisa.” She commanded softly in what I just noticed to be her elegant, authoritative voice.

 As she placed the photographs back on the windowsill she held the sides of the box against her lap, both of us taking a deep breath at the same time as she flipped up the latch the held the box shut.  As she opened it I noticed so many different things at once, photographs and letters, jewelry, and newspaper clippings. She reached in and lifted a few papers before taking hold of a ring.  I couldn’t help but remain silent, she was letting me in, quietly, but still she was showing me a little…okay well a lot of our family history and who she was.

 “Annalisa, I want you to have this.  Place this on your left hand, the middle finger.” She commanded as she took a deep breath and handed me the beautiful, elegant, gold ring with a large sapphire in the center with diamonds beneath the same design that was engraved on the top of the leather box that she held.

“Never take this off from now on, do you understand Annalisa.” She stared at me with intense eyes. I nodded slowly, still confused and filled with so many questions.

“Annalisa, you must know once I tell you, you must believe what I say is true.  Don’t not question me or defy me when I say this is dangerous knowledge to obtain, and you must keep this to yourself, few people must know.” She said with authority and seriousness.  My eyes widen as I began to process her words in my mind, was she serious? What type of knowledge was so important, so dangerous that must be kept a secret…?

“No, you can’t be.  Are you serious?” I said with disbelief. There was no flippin way she was serious.

 “My dear Annalisa, you aren’t just Annalisa Nicola Peterson, dear. You are Annalisa Nicola Dimitriievna Peterson Romanova, Grand Duchess of Russia.” My great grandmamma said with a soft, proud voice. Well, I definitely was not expecting that, I thought to myself as I breathed in a deep breath leaning back into the chair.

 “Wait, that’s impossible.  That would mean that you’re…”

 “Anastasia Nicholaevna Vasilieva Romanova, Grand Duchess of Russia.” She finished for me.  I looked at her with shocked, disbelieving eyes, then my eyes focused on the design on the red box and on the ring that I wore…that wasn’t just any design, and I knew I had recognized it before from the “Russia Bleeds Red” book from Nantiques.  It was the Imperial Romanov Family Crest.

 “Why? Why are you just now telling me?  Does my mother know? Did my father and grandparents know? Did your husband know? And if you really are….who, who you say you are, then how did you escape?” I asked quickly as I became frustrated with the fact that here she was, finally telling me who I was, but not understanding why now.

 “Silence, child.  I know this is a lot to take in; after all you have probably heard myths and are having to sort out what you know and the truth.  As to your questions, no. No they did not know.  Except for Leon, your great grandpapa.” She said quietly as she closed her eyes for a second and smiled briefly as she said his name. “I recognized that look of hunger and determination in your eyes, dear child.” She continued.  “That was the same look I had at your age, when I had to know the answers.  I knew you wouldn’t stop until you knew the truth about us, and I thought you deserved to know the truth through me, than finding out the partial truth from someone or from something else.” She kept explaining.  “I have no doubt that you would’ve found out who I was, but I have no doubt that you would’ve found out from the wrong source and you might let the knowledge slip not knowing how costly it might be.” She paused.

“As to your question about how I escaped, this involves you knowing about Leon Vasiliev, your great grandpappa was indeed one of the Communist soldiers that guarded and held me and my family captive, but was also a guardian angel in disguise.  He saved my life, he rescued me.  In return he became an enemy of everything that he had ever known, loved, stood for, and believed in.” Nunna said with a grim smile. 

“Much time passed, and yet Leon never once explained why he chose to rescue me, until the eve that he proposed to me, dear Annalisa.” She said with a smile.

“Why? What was the reason?” I asked, my mind mesmerized by the words of my Nunna.

She smiled again before she continued to explain, “Leon was actually the soldier that was assigned to kill me, but you already know that I’m sure, but instead as he looked into my eyes briefly before I went into the bathroom, he said later in life, that he could see his whole life play out in my eyes, and it wouldn’t be right if I wasn’t alive and by his side. It was right after I went into the bathroom that he made up his mind that he would do whatever it took to save me, even if it meant he would die while doing it.”

“How did you keep your name a secret though? I mean, Mr. Poloski mentioned that until a few days ago he didn’t know it was an actual name.”

“Ha, that’s actually the delightful part, my dear. At the time we were married, many years had already passed since the massacre, many of the royal family that knew that I had survived created a rumor from the fact that I was indeed alive, and that whoever could prove they were me, would be gladly welcomed to the family with a reward.  So, many people started claiming to be me or to be someone else from the Imperial family, hence the myth that I had or hadn’t escaped, came to be.  Leon and I were able to leave Europe and move to America in the early nineteen thirties, and since then, no one has ever suspected us, or me to be anyone else than, Mrs. Anastasia Vasiliev wife of Leon Vasiliev, mother of Alexandria Vasiliev, your grandmamma.” She finished explaining.

I was so surprised, “So our family was the ones that actually started the myth of the Grand Duchess escaping.” I said trying to hold shock and laughter back.

“Yep, that’s correct; you can actually thank my second cousin, King George V, for that.” She said as she smiled and a small laugh, as she continued to stare out the window. 

“But, why Nunna?  Why is it dangerous? That was over ninety years ago.  People would be glad that there was still a Romanov that lived.  What the communists did, it wasn’t right.  People later understood what a tragic lost it was.” I said as I leaned towards her my hands on my knees.

“My dear child. If our Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior had decided to come down from Heaven during these times, do you think we would be more accepting of him now than two thousand years ago? I think not. We would still have him crucified or murdered in a similar way, because it was meant to be.  My father defied what the people wanted during those times.  The people did not understand then, and they wouldn’t understand how important all the people were that went into war.  Besides, they wouldn’t believe it even if they saw me in the flesh.” She explained.

 “They would if you had proof.  I mean don’t we have any family that would know?” I asked.

 “Yes, we have a few, but even they wouldn’t dare to address me in public or acknowledge me in public.  There are still those who would do anything to see our family, even our long distant family, killed off for good. I have done very well at keeping this a secret.  I must trust for your own safety you’ll do the same.” She said sternly as she placed a hand over mine.

 “Here, this I think now belongs to you.” She said with a smile as she held out the box with shaky hands towards me.  I took it softly, as I looked down at it…all this time I wanted to know, but now that I do, I almost wish I hadn’t.  What good was it to know who you were but couldn’t share it, and more importantly it was too dangerous to share it?  There just had to be a way to allow my dear great grandmamma, the  heir to the throne, to reclaim her name.  There just had to be, I thought with determination.

 “Annalisa, dear, I know this a lot, but do not loss heart.  I have faith that there will come a time when there will be an Imperial family again. Until then, we must wait and trust that God knows best. Now, I think it’s time for you to go, we will always have tomorrow or next week.” She said as she started to roll her wheelchair over towards the bed.

 “Thank you.” I said softly, even though “Thank you” couldn’t express all the thousand of words, questions, thoughts, and feelings flooding through me.

 “See you soon, my dear Annalisa.” My great grandmamma said as she pressed the button for a nurse.

 Not but moment later, a nurse came in to help her into the bed.  “Sorry dear, but you’ll have to leave.  Mrs. Vasilieva needs to take her meds and rest.” The nurse said as she escorted me out of the room.  I just nodded and smiled softly to myself.

 “Bye Nunna.” I said softly as I headed back home.  

Now that I knew the truth, there seemed to be more questions throughout my mind.  Was Nunna really the only Romanov that lived? What if others had escaped like she had? How would she have ever known? Who were the other family members that we were related to? Could they help locate others? All I knew was that this history assignment wasn’t my top priority anymore, as I thought about my Nunna, seeing her how frail she was, how she might not have much longer left, I knew I had to try to locate the rest of our family. 

If discovering my roots was how it was going to happen, then there was only one place, I could think of to start, only one person I could think of, and that was to see how much Mr. Poloski really knows about Russia.

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Author's Note:  Hey Yall, I hope you enjoyed Reading!  Please take a moment to click the orange VOTE button that's on the left hand side of the screen.  Thanks so much for all your support.

This Chapter is dedicated to WinterDreamer for helping me with the Russian Royalty names. Thanks again!