Page 89 of Pioneer Summer

Yurka got mad. “Remind me again: Who kissed who back by the power shed?!” He crossed his arms and scowled.

The corners of Volodya’s lips started to turn up, but he held back his smile. After a pause, he asked, serious again: “Well, what do you think about this, Yur?”

“I try not to think,” answered Yurka, equally seriously. “What’s the point? Neither you nor I can stop ourselves. And us kissing isn’t hurting anybody.”

“Except ourselves.”

“Ourselves? I’m having a hard time seeing how I’m suffering here. Quite the opposite. It makes me feel good and I like it. What about you?”

Volodya smiled awkwardly. “You know the answer to that already.”

Yurka didn’t bother with asking or arguing anymore. He just seized the initiative. This was their second real, grown-up kiss. And it was nothing at all like their first one. Back then, in the boat, it had been hot and nerve-wracking, the boat melting away under the beating of their hearts and the pounding of the rain, but now it was quiet. Completely quiet. Outside thewindows was nothing but night; inside the enormous auditorium was emptiness. It was as though everything had frozen, was holding its breath, and there was only the two of them, rediscovering each other lingeringly, slowly, softly, through the movements of their lips.

But then there was a loud crash in the doorway, and something clattered and rolled. The boys leaped apart so fast it was as though a bolt of lightning had struck, throwing them in different directions. A small flashlight was rolling down the steps of the auditorium one by one. And in the doorway, her eyes round, stood Masha, reeling.

Yurka’s first reaction was panic. Next came paralyzing horror. It felt as though the entire earth had fallen out from under his feet, as though the stage were breaking apart, as though everything around him were turning upside down. Then he was struck by confusion and disbelief: Maybe it was just his imagination playing tricks on him?

Because where on earth could Masha have come from, showing up here at almost one in the morning?

But there she was. Living and breathing. And getting ready to get out of there as fast as she could: she was already feeling around behind her for the door handle.

“Hold on!” shouted Volodya, the first of them to recover from his shock.

Masha froze. He ran down from the stage and took the stairs up several at a time until he was next to her. “Don’t run away. Please.”

Masha couldn’t utter a word. She was opening and closing her mouth, gasping for air like a fish tossed up onshore.

“Mash?” Volodya reached out to her, but she jerked away from him as though he had the plague. All she could manage to do was choke out a squeaky, “Don’t touch me!”

“Okay, okay ...” Volodya let out a shaky breath. He was trying to speak calmly, but his strained nerves were evident in every word. “Whatever you do, don’t panic. Come down here, please. I’ll explain everything.”

“What?! What will you explain?! You—you—what are you even doing ... It’s disgusting!”

It was like Yurka’s mind just shut down. He couldn’t figure anything out or make any decisions. He couldn’t even feel his hands. And his legs were made of cotton wool and wouldn’t hold him up. But there was no time towaste. And so, with an unbelievable effort of will, Yurka forced himself to walk over to them. Masha stared at him, her gaze even more wild and terrified than the look she had given Volodya.

“Mash,” said Yurka, forming the words with difficulty. “Now, don’t go jumping to conclusions.”

“You’re abnormal! You’re sick!”

“No. We’re normal. We’re just—”

“Why are you doing that? That’s just not right! That doesn’t happen ... People don’t do that ... That’s completely ... It’s just completely ...”

Masha started trembling and whimpering. Yurka realized that she was a hairbreadth away from hysterics. Right there, right then, she was going to go and wake everyone up and—

Yurka didn’t finish what he was thinking. He was starting to feel feverish himself. Everything started swimming before his eyes. It felt like he was about to faint, and then he’d just keep going and be swallowed up by the earth. He managed to preserve some semblance of at least external calm, although internally he couldn’t stop replaying the terrifying images that kept parading through his imagination, images of the shame and condemnation that would await him and Volodya as soon as Masha told everyone. They would become outcasts; they would be punished, a punishment it was terrible to even contemplate!

“We were just fooling around, you see?” chortled Volodya nervously. “Getting into mischief from boredom, from having nothing to do. And it’s no big deal, there’s nothing going on here. You’re right, this doesn’t happen. There’s nothing happening between us here.”

“What, are there not enough girls around for you? What is he giving you that we can’t?!”

“Of course that’s not it! Think about it: nature itself dictates that boys like girls, that men like women, and that’s the way it is. Mashenka, he’s not giving me anything, and I don’t want anything from him. We’re ... Yura and I are ... we’re just ... we don’t mean anything to each other. We’re going our separate ways after Camp Barn Swallow and we’ll forget each other. And you forget about this. Because this is just nonsense; it’s not worth it ... it’s meaningless, just a delusion ...”

Yurka heard him, but the words were muffled. Unable to breathe calmly, he shut his heavy eyelids and winced in pain. The pain burned his entire being without focusing on one particular spot; it flowed through him, seeming to even reach out past his physical body. Because Volodya could have said they’d done it for a bet. He could’ve said anything at all, even that they were “practicing” kissing. She might’ve believed it, wouldn’t she? But when Yurka opened his eyes and looked at her, he could read his answer in her face:No.Masha couldn’t be tricked with excuses, jokes, or promises. If she was going to believe them, she needed the truth. Maybe even just a grain of truth, but still the truth. And there was truth in Volodya’s words: the laws of nature, and their separation. And “Yura and I were just ...”

Yurka stared at Volodya, seeking an answer to the terrible question that had just occurred to him: that there might not have been a drop of lies in anything Volodya was saying. It was painful for him to hear all this, but even more painful to realize that saying exactly this was their only way out.

“Masha, please, don’t tell anyone about this. If anybody finds out about something like this ... it’s a black mark against us, for our whole lives. It’ll ruin our futures ... Do you understand me?” continued Volodya. Yurka continued to stand there dumbstruck.

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