Page 21 of Pioneer Summer

“Please, tell me! Yur, what if my little trouble magnets find out? They’ll run away!”

“They won’t find out, much less run away. It’s too far for them, and also they can’t use it because they’re so short,” Yurka assured him. But Volodya continued to huff nervously, so to quell his anxiety, Yurka added, “I guarantee they won’t run away!”

“Yura, if anything happens, the senior staff will come down on me like a ton of bricks!”

Yurka picked distractedly at a mosquito bite on his elbow. “Just don’t tell anybody, okay? About the hole. Or about the smokes, either.”

“I won’t tell as long as you show me this other hole. I have to be sure the kids can’t get through it. And that it’s safe.”

Yurka stopped resisting. “It’s not a hole in the fence, actually. It’s a shallow place in the river. No need to panic. They’re not crazy: they’re not going to cross a river where the water’s up to their necks.” Volodya grunted dubiously. Then Yurka remembered: “Tell me this: What story should I tell tomorrow? To the kids? I did promise ...”

“Come up with something. You were so quick on the draw with the one you just told; another one won’t be hard.”

“Easy for you to say! There was an inspiration for the brooch story, but that’s it. The tank’s empty now. What else can I come up with ... maybe a story about a serial killer?”

“A serial killer?! How’d there be a serial killer way out here?” snorted Volodya.

“I don’t know! It’s all made-up, anyway.” Yurka shrugged.

“No. It has to be more realistic, and there has to be a moral to the story. Maybe we could expand on the topic of the estate instead ... We could talk about ... a hidden treasure? That’s it! Let’s do a hidden treasure.”

“Hmm,” said Yurka, scratching his chin. “That’s an idea. Do you have anything to write on?”

Volodya explored his pockets. From the left pocket he pulled the slingshot, but shoved it back and dug into his right pocket. He extracted a notebook rolled up into a tube, along with a pen.

“Isn’t it too dark to write?” he asked as he handed them to Yurka.

“It’s fine. I have big handwriting.”

“Then go on, maestro, begin!”

“Okay. So the count and the countess were very wealthy. Before he left for the war, the count took a large portion of his fortune, hid it in a chest, and buried it somewhere ...”

“But what did the countess live on?”

“I said ‘a large portion’; he left the rest with her! Where was I ... And under cover of darkness, on the night of the new moon, he carried the chest out and buried it, marking the location on a map. But even the map wouldn’t help find the treasure if you hadn’t solved a series of riddles ... No ... Wait! The valuables were hidden not by a count but by partisans! Yeah! A cache of weapons!”

Yurka never did make it to the dance that night. For hours past lights-out, he and Volodya sat together on the merry-go-round, dreaming up scary stories for the little kids, completely heedless of time racing on.

CHAPTER FIVE

SOME TROOP LEADER SHE IS

After growing closer to Volodya, Yurka began enjoying the theater more, too. Although the place had bored him at first, it became special to him after a couple of rehearsals. It was fun there, and comfortable, and Yurka felt he was a full-fledged member of the team. Even though they hadn’t found a part for him yet, Volodya still found ways for Yurka to feel useful, like helping keep an eye on the kids or giving advice on the script and the distribution of parts. And Volodya listened to him. Yurka was flattered.

He had begun to genuinely like Volodya, although Yurka couldn’t quite wrap his head around it when he thought about what that word, “like,” actually meant. It sounded strange. Because he kept thinking about how it could mean something more like attraction, or being in love, not what he felt for Volodya. Since he had no clue how to explain this feeling to himself, he settled for calling it “a desire to be friends,” even “a very strong desire to be friends.” Nothing like this had ever happened to Yurka before. This was the first time he’d looked at another boy that way, with special interest, and with a sense of jealous rivalry. Moreover—and this was what was really surprising—his rival wasn’t Volodya but the girls. They were his rivals for Volodya’s attention.

The process of getting the show up and running was moving slowly, but it was definitely moving. At the third rehearsal they announced who would play the four main parts, but many of the secondary parts were still an open question because there weren’t enough actors. For some reason, not that many boys had wanted to be in drama club.

The lead role of Zina Portnova was given to Nastya Milkova, a Pioneer from Troop Two, the second-oldest troop. She read her lines beautifully and even looked like Zina: short, and with the same dark hair and big browneyes. But unlike Zina, Nastya wasn’t brave. Nastya was very nervous when she said her lines, getting so agitated that a red flush spread not only over her face but also down her arms and hands. The part of Galya, Zina’s little sister, was to be performed by little redheaded Alyona from Volodya’s troop. The part of Ilya Yezavitov ended up going to Olezhka after all. Even though Volodya still had his doubts, there was no way he could get out of it by “picking who was best”; despite Olezhka’s problematicr’s, he still read the lines far better than anyone else. And he tried really hard. The part of Ilya’s brother, Zhenya Yezavitov, was assigned to Vaska Petlitsyn. He was still a little trouble magnet and mischief-maker, but he quickly got into the part and played it very well.

Ulyana secured the part of Fruza Zenkova, leader of the Young Avengers, but from the way Volodya looked at her it was becoming clear he was very dissatisfied with her acting. Polina, on the other hand, was immediately confirmed as the narrator, and her voice-over narration was excellent. The request of the third member of the trinity, Ksyusha, had been heard and granted back at the first rehearsal. She was very proud of her title of costumer, even though she hadn’t sewn a costume or even made a pattern yet. Masha, for lack of anyone better, was selected as the pianist—even though, as far as Yurka could tell, she only knew how to play one thing, the Moonlight Sonata. Although the camp had sound equipment, Volodya insisted on “live” accompaniment, pointing out that thirty years ago the show had been accompanied by live music, specifically live piano music.

The actors were still struggling with the script, but for the third rehearsal, it wasn’t bad. Even so, Volodya couldn’t stop worrying about the parts that weren’t yet filled: the Portnova sisters’ grandmother, two girls and a boy in the Young Avengers, several Germans, and soldiers and villagers for the group scenes.

“So,” Volodya said, lowering his notebook from in front of his face. “Are all the Young Avengers here? Or at least the ones we have so far?”

At his request, Nastya, Alyona, Olezha, and Vaska got into a row onstage. Ulyana sat down at the table onstage.

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