Page 111 of Pioneer Summer

“You ready?” asked Volodya. “Nobody saw you?”

“I don’t think so. Everyone’s playing babbling brook. I specifically waited until Masha couldn’t see me. What’s in the backpack?”

“A shovel, the time capsule, and the things we’re putting in it. And a blanket, too ... in case we want to stay there a little while. Shall we go?”

They turned onto the winding little footpath skirting the beach. It was dark in the woods. They could hear the voices of Pioneers and the cracklingof the bonfire from over in the clearing. Usually when they went to the willow, Yurka led the way, because he knew the woods better, but this time Volodya went first, lighting the way with the flashlight as he picked out their path. Yurka couldn’t shake the feeling he was headed to his own execution.

They were going to where they’d say their goodbyes. They were going to the willow to spend their last minutes together, say their last words. And now even the little spark of hope that had kept Yurka warm all day was all but gone, flickering on the edge of winking out completely.

Stop that!Yurka ordered himself.We will meet again! We’re only parting temporarily!

He knew that the minutes before something you dread often seem to expand and take longer, so the trip to the willow should have seemed long, but there they were already, going around the boggy pool and coming out of the woods to the steep riverbank. All they had to do now was walk back through the woods for around five minutes, and then they’d be at the shallows.

Yurka wanted to stop and turn back, as though if they didn’t go anywhere now, they wouldn’t have to part or say goodbye. He held his hand out to Volodya so they could hold hands with fingers intertwined, but he almost fell down from fright when voices burst out from behind them:

“Volodya! Yura! Helloo-oo!” Ira Petrovna, lighting her way with her flashlight, was hurrying to catch up with them. Ksyusha and Polina were behind Ira, and behind them was Masha. “Where are you going?!”

Volodya kept his head. Without a word, he pulled off the backpack and pulled out the time capsule: a tin, the kind people use for storing buckwheat, wrapped in clear cellophane. “We’re going to bury a time capsule. It’s right here.” He held out the tin.

“And why didn’t anybody tell me anything?” said Ira angrily.

“Yura, did you not ask permission?”

Then it hit Yurka like a ton of bricks: he’d forgotten! He was embarrassed; Volodya had warned him, after all, that he needed to ask permission. “No ... I’m sorry, Ira Petrovna, I wasn’t thinking again.”

“He wasn’t thinking!” Ira said. “But you are my responsibility! What if something happens and I don’t even know where you are!”

Volodya sighed and requested quietly, “Irin ... let’s step over here for a moment ...”

The troop leaders moved several paces away. The girls didn’t say a word. Yurka looked sullenly at Masha: How on earth had she figured out where he and Volodya had gone? He’d seen with his own two eyes that she was distracted! But it wasn’t enough that she followed them again, the backbiter—she also had to give them up to Irina! And why had those two nosy little snakelings tagged along?

It never occurred to the two arguing troop leaders that even though they were standing at a distance, the wind was blowing from them to Yurka and the girls, who could therefore hear every word of their conversation clearly.

“Vova, maybe Konev’s got nothing but air between his ears, butyoucould’ve said something to me, at least!” Ira chided him. “And this time capsule: it’s a really fantastic idea. We could’ve buried one of our own, you know—as a troop. That’s not comradely of you, Vov. We’re Komsomol members, we should be helping each other!”

“I’m sorry, Irin. I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just that this idea came into my head out of the blue, literally this afternoon. And we had a whole bunch of things to do. You know the drill ... I’m sorry, okay?”

Ira softened a little. “Okay, okay. Maybe we’ll get a chance to do our own first thing in the morning tomorrow.”

“So how about it: Will you let Konev go under my supervision? Komsomol member’s honor: I’ll bring him back to you no later than one a.m., safe and sound.”

Ira crossed her arms tightly, shifted from foot to foot, and cast a doubtful look at Volodya. “Vov, one a.m.’s too late.”

A gust of wind blew in from the river and carried off the next part of their conversation. When the troop leader’s words were audible again, Ira Petrovna, now much more amenable, was inquiring, “Did you tell Olga Leonidovna?” Volodya shook his head no. “Just be careful. If anyone from admin notices, I won’t be able to help you.”

“Do you really think they have any attention to spare?”

“Well ... not really, to tell the truth. But wait! Vov, if they notice, they’ll write it up in your character reference.”

“To hell with it. They can write whatever they want. So will you cover for me, Irin? We won’t be far—just here in the woods.”

“Well ... okay, I’ll cover for—”

Volodya was already turning around to walk away when Masha shouted at the top of her lungs, “Don’t let them go! I know what they’re going there to do! Irina, they’re abnormal! They hug and kiss! They have to be punished! We have to tell Olga Leonidovna!”

Her shouts resonated in Yurka’s ears. His eyes went dim. Volodya froze in mid-stride, only his pupils racing back and forth. His panicked gaze flickered from face to face. Irina, mouth agape, looked first at Yurka, then at Volodya. Then she fixed Masha with a glare.

“Ha!” Ksyusha barked out a laugh. In the silence that had enveloped the woods, it rang out so loudly that everyone flinched. After a moment’s pause, she convulsed in mocking laughter. Gasping for breath, she groaned, “Now, that’s rich! She’s gone completely off her rocker! Polya, are you hearing this? Are you hearing what she’s saying?”

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