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Purple was sweet. It was the color of small flowers left behind for the bigger ones. It was the color of the fruit that was made into the alcoholic liquid adults seemed to like so much. It was the simple combination of red and blue, but Crusher somehow found it beautiful.
Crusher always loved purple. Whatever form it was in-- Lilac, Violet, Amethyst, Plum. To him, it was purple, and it was beautiful. Crusher loved it when the sun was retreating and the colors followed it, and in a moment, the sky was purple. Violet. A beautiful calm violet Crusher loved and wanted. He wanted to reach out and touch the stardust that made him, the purple stardust that could carry him away like that girl from that one story.
Crusher loved purple. But as he grew older, he realized that purple wasn’t as good as he thought.
When Crusher was 8, his mother turned purple. Every night, Crusher would hear screaming and shouting and pleading from downstairs up to his bedroom and he could do nothing but scoot back to the corner of his wall and pull his blanket above his head.
The next morning, his mother served him breakfast, all purple and blue. His father was nowhere to be seen and when he asked where he was, his mother just turned away from him and said, “out.”
When Crusher was 9 when his classmates became purple. He won math competitions in class over and over again and got a medal for the best short story in school. These little competitions made Crusher smile. It made him happy and it was a reminder he was good at something. His classmates didn’t like that and they became purple.
“Envious, angry, displeased,” his mother labeled. Crusher wasn’t invited to any more games. No one wanted to be in a group with Crusher. And Crusher cried when all of his classmates uninvited him to their birthdays. His mother hugged him when he did and kissed his forehead. “They’re just… Purple,” his mother said.
Crusher was 10 when he became purple. It was an honest mistake, really. Crusher wanted to make his mom happy today and looked for flowers in the park but he couldn’t see anything pretty. He saw a pretty purple flower just bouncing out of someone’s fence. He crossed the road and eagerly pulled the flower from the fence. Its petals were still wet from the morning dew and he liked how it faded into white. It was perfect.
“Hey!” A man called and Crusher turned his head to see a large truck coming toward him. The monster truck towered above him as he growled at him. “You, punk!” The monster truck shoved Crusher backward and it hurt more than it was supposed to when he dropped to the ground. “That’s my wife’s flower!” The man pulled him from the front bumper and pushed him again. Crusher cried out in pain as he felt something snap and the man only scoffed. “Baby,” he muttered as he snatched the flower from Crusher’s tire and then punched the child on his face.
Crusher whimpered as he drove away, sad that he didn’t get the flower for his mother.
Crusher was 13 when he really started to hate purple.
He was woken up when it was still dark and cold. He felt like it was still too early to be woken up and he couldn’t process the sounds of shuffling that bounced off his walls. Crusher sat up and reached for the “on” switch of his lamp.
The lamp flickered to light and he saw his mother hastily packing his backpack with his clothes, notebooks, and toys. Crusher was confused about what was going on, let alone why his mother was packing his things. His worries grew when his mother stared at him in horror and clutched the spaceship figurine that was currently in her tire. And in the dim light, he could see that his mother was crying.
“Mom?” It came out as a quiet whisper. Crusher was afraid if he said something any louder, the world would crumble.
His mother quickly wiped the tears away from her sky blue face and quickly put the figurine in the backpack and zipped it. The woman smiled at her son and drove to his side and kissed his head. “Crusher… You may not understand what’s happening, but remember that mommy always loves you.” The woman tugged her son down from his bed and led him downstairs.
Crusher kept asking what they were doing or why they were up so late. His mother only answered, “not now, baby,” or “shush, Crusher.” They reached the doorway and his mother struggled to open the door in the dark. She finally got the door open and ushered Crusher outside.
His mother was only a few inches out of the doorway when his father screamed, “AZURE!”
Crusher’s mother acted in such a rush. She threw Crusher’s bag into his arms and then gripped him by his shoulders. “Crusher, I-- I…” She tried to wipe the tears away but they just kept coming. She kissed him on the forehead again and then hugged him. “Whatever you do, wherever you’ll go, remember that mommy loves you.”
His mother turned him around and pointed down at the street. “Grammy’s waiting for you at the bus stop in the park. Go there and don’t look back.”
“But what about--”
“I’ll be fine. Daddy’s going to be fine. We’re all going to be fine. Just… Don’t come back, okay? Mommy’s going to find you, just, please don’t come back.”
Crusher didn’t know what to do. He was so confused and so scared. “But--”
“AZURE! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU B****?!”
“Crusher, run!” his mother commanded as she pushed him out of the fence and drove back to the house, locking the door to make sure Crusher doesn’t come back. Crusher was about to run after her, but he heard shouting and crying. He was scared and didn’t really know what to do, but the silhouette of his father in the window made him decide that to just follow his mother’s orders and run.
Crusher just turned 14 when purple became something else.
It was his birthday, and for six months, he hasn’t seen his mother and he missed her so much. He wished and prayed and told his granny he wanted to see her, he wanted to visit her. But Granny only said she’s going to come back and that he had to wait. Well, it was Crusher’s birthday and he didn’t want to wait anymore.
“Why can’t I see mom?!” Crusher cried as he tried to push past his grandma’s body and towards the door. He didn’t have much strength and his grandmother did her best to keep her grandson at the bay.
“She’ll come, she’ll come!” Rika said, pushing Crusher far from the door. “Just not today.”
“Then when?!” Crusher asked, furiously wiping the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. “I-- She-- Why can’t--...” Crusher’s voice cracked as he fumbled with his words. “I--I… She-- When?!” Crusher exclaimed, finally letting himself sob. “When will she come?! I-- I want to see her! Does she… Does she not want to see me? Is that why-- Is that why she left me? With you? She kicked me out because she doesn’t want me?” Crusher’s words were slurred and mixed together that Grammy had trouble understanding him, but her heart broke when the young truck began to tremble and howl as he cried. “She doesn’t want me and left me!”
“Crusher… Crusher no…” Grammy left her position guarding the door. She drove forward and wrapped Crusher in a hug, patting him and shushing him, trying to calm the crying boy.
Crusher’s mind raced and all of his thoughts were being glued together and then torn apart. It was a mess and words repeated themselves yet more slurred than the last. Crusher couldn’t think of anything yet think of a million things. It hurt him and hurt his head. But one thought stuck to him.
“Purple…” Crusher muttered as he buried his head against his grammy. “She left me… Because she was purple…”
That day, Crusher hated purple. Purple took away his classmates, his family, his hope. Purple enveloped his life and tried to choke his light out. It sowed itself into his heart until it became a large tree, bare of any flowers or leaves, and just cast a looming shadow over the little hope that was left inside him.
But purple was also the one that comforted him when everything else was taken away. Purple wrapped her tires around him when he broke down, howling cries and wishes that will never be fulfilled, and listened to his woes. Purple told him that even when everyone and everything is against him, he’ll have her.
Purple was Grammy. And Crusher loved Grammy.