Page 38 of Pioneer Summer

“Zinaida Vasilyevna won’t like this!” said Ira, frowning.

“Irina, what do you want us to do?” asked Volodya. “Are we supposed to carry him back to camp? In the middle of the night, through the woods?”

“No. I won’t let you go at night. Keep him in your tent.”

“I’m not sleeping by myself; I’m with some of the boys.”

“Then you think of something,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

“What do you want to hear? ‘I’ll take full responsibility’? Fine. I’ll take full responsibility. What an important matter you’re making such a fuss about!” said Volodya angrily.

“Guys—not in front of the kids.” Zhenya gave each of them a conciliatory clap on the shoulder. The kids who had collected in a circle around them exchanged worried glances. “I can find Zinaida ten fantastic boxes if need be.”

Yurka realized he was the underlying cause of the fight: it was because of him, after all, that Volodya had burst out with that “Are you in love with him ... ?” comment back in the theater. He’d been in a not-great mood already, but seeing this fight threatened to ruin his mood completely. So it was more an announcement than a question when Yurka said, “So does someone need to go get a box, then?” Without waiting for a response, he walked off toward the field kitchen.

“I’m with Konev,” Yurka heard behind his back. Volodya quickly caught up with him. He was carrying a flashlight he’d gotten somewhere and lit Yurka’s path with it, even though it was a moonlit night and there was no need for electric lights.

“What’s wrong with you?” Volodya asked angrily.

“Nothing’s wrong with me. And the last thing I need is for you to take out your anger on me,” growled Yurka.

“No, no, I wasn’t going to take anything out on you. If it sounded that way, I’m sorry. But ... Yur, I feel like you’re avoiding me.”

“Not really. I’m just tired.”

“Come on, Yura. Don’t try to fool me.” His voice betrayed his frustration. “I can see something’s wrong. Are you mad at me? What for? Did I say something wrong? Or did I do something wrong?” Volodya had now become quite alarmed. He looked Yurka right in the eyes and put his hand on Yurka’s shoulder, but physical contact with Volodya was something Yurka didn’t want; in fact, it was something Yurka was afraid of. So he shrugged Volodya’s hand off. Volodya was now completely baffled: “Is this all still because of the magazines?”

“I’m just—no—I mean, it’s just—”

“What is it with you and this ‘I’m just ... ,’ ‘It’s just ...’? Give it to me straight: What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. I’ve been in a terrible mood since I got up this morning. I didn’t want to ruin your mood, too.”

“Well, you did.”

Yurka came to a halt by the field kitchen. “How?” he asked, surprised.

“Because you’re avoiding me. I’m worried, you know.”

“What? You’re what? You’re worried?” said Yurka stupidly. Yet deep inside he grew warm. “About me?”

“You’re my friend, of course I’m worried about you, and concerned, and ...” Volodya trailed off and lowered his gaze. He bit his lip, then cleared his throat, and then said carefully, “How about this: if something happened, you have to tell me, because I’m not ... I’m not a complete stranger to you, after all. And I’m a troop leader, too. I can help you. Okay?”

“Okay. But I really am just tired. Everything’s okay, Volod.” But Yurka was saying it more to convince himself than Volodya.

“That’s settled, then,” said Volodya. “Tomorrow, when everybody’s still asleep, we’re going to go fishing. Want to join us? Or are you too tired? You’ll have to get up at five in the morning.”

“Whew, five a.m., yikes,” Yurka said, hedging. “If I don’t get enough sleep, I’ll be grumpy and sleepy all day and generally out of sorts ...”

“You’re already out of sorts,” grumbled Volodya as they found a box and turned around to bring it back to the campfire. “And I am, too, because of you!Alyosha told me you’d already told him yesterday you weren’t going to HQ, so I thought I’d offended you, so I’ve been on edge all day. I can’t do anything right.”

It was simply not possible for Yurka to react to these words with indifference. Volodya was out of sorts without him? On edge? Couldn’t do anything right? So that meant he needed Yurka. How nice it felt to be needed. Yurka’s alarm about what had happened at morning calisthenics faded; he wanted everything to go back to the way it had been. Yurka smiled. “Fine, okay. I’ll get up.”

“But don’t forget to ask Ira’s permission to leave.”

“Of course. If it comes up, confirm that I’m going with you. Where are we meeting?”

“I’ll wake you up myself.”

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