Page 112 of Pioneer Summer

But Polina, unlike her friends, was serious. “Yes, but, Ksyusha, it’s our fault. We should’ve made friends with her, but we ... I also ... I know people go nuts from loneliness. They talk total nonsense but they completely believe what they’re saying! My grandma’s like that ...”

Yurka couldn’t believe his ears. Never mind his anger at Masha’s betrayal; he still didn’t like the way the girls were reacting. Like it was something so crazy to believe.

“Are you serious?” Ksyusha asked, hiccupping and gasping. “You think ... you think she’s gone off the deep end?”

“Would a normal person really follow somebody around and then say something like that?” Polina replied. “But Masha’s always alone and she never sleeps at night! How many times have we seen her sneaking away after lights-out?!”

“I ...” Masha looked scared. “I’m te-telling the truth,” she stammered out.

“Irin, she really was stalking Volodya, though,” said Ksyusha, who had calmed down. “I didn’t believe it myself at first. So she leaves the cabin and runs around, who cares. I thought she was with Konev. But then this ...”

“She left the cabin?” whispered Ira Petrovna, taken aback.

“Yes,” confirmed Polina, eyeing Masha with suspicion. “Half the troop could tell you the same thing.”

“That’s true, Irin.” Ksyusha nodded. “Probably need to tell Olga Leonidovna. Telling these kinds of lies—it’s vile! She should be kicked out of the Pioneers for this!”

“Don’t! Think what a black mark it’ll be on her record! But this—well, okay, so she went a little cuckoo, it happens. Once she gets some sleep she’ll settle down. And I won’t leave you alone anymore, Mashka, so don’t worry ... ,” Polina assured her. But nobody paid her any attention.

Masha choked out a sob. Ira Petrovna walked up to her and demanded sternly, “Masha, what are you saying? This is completely over the line ...”

Masha’s lips started trembling and she sniffed. But she was unable to restrain her tears. “It’s true, Ir ... Iri ...”

“It’s utterly ludicrous!” Ira shouted. “Spreading this kind of slander, and about a troop leader! About an exemplary Komsomol member! How on earth did you even come up with something like that? Kissing a—good god! How can you even bring yourself to say something like that? Because even imagining it—it’s abnormal, is what it is!”

Masha burst into sobs. Yurka was stunned by what Ira had said. Yes, Volodya was her comrade and her friend; yes, she thought she knew Volodya. But this thing that was happening to him and Volodya, this love, was it really so horrific that nobody could believe even hypothetically that it might exist? Because there were people who loved like that: there was one right here—Yurka; he was “that” kind of person—and there was another one standing right over there, in a stunned silence, adjusting his glasses with a trembling hand.

Yurka recoiled. What kind of world was he living in? What a wrong, stupid, unjust world it was. And it was the world that was wrong, not Yurka.

Still, if he’d been in Ira’s place as recently as a month ago, he wouldn’t have believed it, either.

Meanwhile, Masha was now sobbing uncontrollably. Ira shook her head in reproach. Ksyusha piped up again mockingly: “Get a load of her! She’s the liar, but now she’s all weeping and moaning! It takes one to know one, right, Mash? Why don’t you tell us: Is there something aboutyouwe don’t know?”

“Stop it!” barked Yurka. “What are you attacking her for? You can’t humiliate her like that, no matter what she said!”

He’d recovered somewhat from his shock, and he felt sorry for her. He wasn’t defending her; she had been shamelessly despicable and vile. But Yurka had also seen how Volodya’s face changed when nobody believed Masha: his brows had shot high in amazement, and for a second the corners of his mouth had twitched up.

Ira Petrovna stopped and took a breath. Then she took hold of Masha by the elbow. “Come on, sunshine. You’re going back to the cabin for a nap. I’ll forgive you this one time, but if you keep spouting this story, I’ll take you right to Olga Leonidovna and tell her everything about these abnormal fantasies of yours ...” She dragged Masha back toward the bonfire. “Ksyusha! Polina! You’re coming with us. And you’re going to keep your mouths shut, too. Volodya! Yurka will be back in the cabin by one a.m.!”

“Irin, don’t tell Leonidovna,” came Polina’s voice as the group headed away. “This is all our fault, we didn’t make friends with her, we didn’t listen to her ...”

“She was totally fine last year, she really was just normal when she and Anka were friends ... ,” said Ksyusha, her voice barely audible.

“We’ll see. Depends how she behaves. Masha, if you say one word ...” The end of Ira Petrovna’s sentence died away in the silent woods.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

THE LAST NIGHT

Volodya stood stunned, unmoving and unblinking, staring at the path the girls had just taken.

“Hey! Everything okay?” Yurka walked over to him and snapped his fingers in front of Volodya’s eyes. It took a couple of tries, since his palms were still sweaty from fear.

He knew he couldn’t allow Volodya to retreat into himself right now, as that would be the death blow to their final evening together.

“I don’t know ... ,” said Volodya, as though he were coming out of a trance. “I’m going to have nightmares now about Masha’s outburst, but ... I can’t believe we got out of that.”

“And the main thing is that wedidget out of it! Or ... do you think maybe we didn’t? Do you think she’ll tell Leonidovna?”

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