Time is reversed

“Yes, all this is nonsense,” twelve-year-old Valerka heard from the guys. — “Apparently they tell a horror story about the bugler. Now Tityapkin will start talking about escaped prisoners. Ah, already started. Heh, if only they knew that there are worse things here than prisoners,” thought the stratilate boy - Yes, this whole place is covered in blood. The blood of the Red Army. — flew away from Lagunov against his will - How do you know? — asked a tall guy with blond hair “BibliotEka,” Tityapkin sang - My older brother told me. “He was a counselor here last year,” Valerka answered. — He’s probably on his way now? — asked Beklemishev, the same fair-haired guy “He died,” the boy answered sharply with red eyes filled with anger, fortunately no one noticed. - Beklya, who pulled your tongue? — a voice familiar to Valerka was heard. The owner of the voice stood up from the bench and Lagunov was taken aback. It was Leva! Leva Khlopov! The same Leva Khlopov, who, one might say, died before his eyes, bleeding from the wound that Gleb inflicted on him. It seemed like it was just yesterday, but here he was, standing here in front of Valerka, alive. - Leva. Leva Khlopov. — the guy extended his hand - Valerka. Valera Lagunov. — The young stratilite answered, swallowing the lump in his throat, shaking hands with his old-new best friend, as he considered it. Khlopov smiled, forcing Lagunov to smile back. - Do you see that house over there? Seryozha Domrachev pointed to what was probably the most beautiful little mansion: blue and white, two-story, with a veranda, a balcony and a turret. — Some old guy lives there, a pensioner. He has a Black Room. People go there and no one ever comes out! Valerka looked at the nice little blue house, and a shiver ran down his spine. He remembered WHO this house belongs to. The boy promised himself that he would do everything possible to keep Leva safe

***

Five minutes later the tram landed on the shore. Valerka reluctantly got up and walked away, dangling his suitcase. Teachers always paid attention to him because he was short, thin and wore glasses. It seemed to the teachers that he needed care, otherwise he would be bullied or lost. But Valerka Lagunov never needed care. It’s a shame we got there so quickly. It was interesting on the ship. Irina Mikhailovna led her detachment from the pier and gathered it in a heap near the gate — two iron pillars, above which was fixed an arc of an iron frame with iron letters: “Pioneer camp “Burevestnik”. Irina Mikhailovna began checking her squad according to the list: fifteen boys and fifteen girls. All are after the fifth grade, only the schools are different, although from the same area, and almost all are twelve years old. Valerka looked at the empty river bus — elegant, like a huge toy, and the boys looked at the monument at the gate — at the plaster sculpture of a girl bugler. Valerka, even on the tram, noted and remembered how in his squad the names of the loudest and loudest boys were called, who knew how to get to know each other instantly and were not shy about anything. A boy named Tityapkin looked under the plaster bugler’s skirt and said with regret: - Damn, it’s all sealed up there! - You’re a freak, Tityapkin! — the girls screamed indignantly. No one knew Tityapkin’s name, and with a surname like that, there’s no need for a name. Another boy, Seryozhka Domrachev, said: “Our law was this: whoever gets a cone into her forge, so that the cone remains inside, will be happy.” Seryozha Domrachev spent the first shift at the Burevestnik camp and has now arrived for the second. He knew everything about the Petrel. - I’ll find the bump right now! — the small, nimble boy rushed about, looking like an indomitable frog. His name was Zhenya Guryanov, and his nickname was Gurka. — I will come here every night! I’ll fill her with a whole lot of cones! - Guryanov, return to your place! — Irina Mikhailovna barked. - Don’t throw it, nothing will come true anyway! — muttered a tall, big-lipped boy with a dissatisfied face. The boy’s name was Venya Gelbich. - Laws always come true! — Kolka Gorokhov objected. — What, don’t you believe me? You’ll see for yourself! Whoever doesn’t believe it is worse! “The forge has a shallow funnel, the lump won’t get stuck there,” a strong, fair-haired boy named Lyova Khlopov judiciously noted. “One of our guys got stuck,” objected Seryozha Domrachev. “He returned home, and they bought him a bike.” - Remember, guys! — the counselor announced loudly. — We are the fourth squad! Now we are going to the fourth building! Find out in pairs! - What the hell is it like in kindergarten! — Slavik Mukhin was offended. Irina Mikhailovna herself, without discussion, put the boys in pairs. Valerka got Seryozha Domrachev. The childish bustle under the plaster bugle was slowly dissipating: the counselors were leading their groups into the residential buildings. First they took the younger ones — the sixth and fifth detachments, then Irina Mikhailovna led the procession of the fourth detachment. From the gate into the depths of the camp, Pioneer Alley stretched — lined with acacia bushes and furnished with huge glass stands. Along the alley, like along a city street, there were lanterns. A girl-like woman with a pioneer tie suddenly jumped up to the fourth squad, stretching out relaxed along the alley. — Why are they so sour? — she shouted cheerfully. — Do you miss your mom? Come on, give me a speech! — And she yelled: — Who is walking together in a row?! Everyone knew this chant. “Our pioneer detachment!..” the girls responded discordantly. - Boys, I can’t hear you! — the aunt urged. — Friendly! “Skillful…” the boys answered sluggishly and discordantly. - Honest! — the aunt yelled demandingly. - And brave! — the boys shouted. - Our motto is always this! - Be ready! Always ready! — the boys have already finished harmoniously. - Now it’s correct! The aunt patted Tityapkin on the back of his head and rushed on. - What kind of fool is this? — Tityapkin asked quietly. “Whistle, the main leader,” said Seryozha Domrachev.

***

A couple of minutes later, Igor Aleksandrovich, the second leader of Valerka’s detachment, and Irina Mikhailovna led the children into the fourth building and the children, divided into units, scattered to the wards “It’s a normal ward,” Lyova Khlopov summed up, looking around. His words sounded like a command “Forward!” Gurka threw away his kolobok backpack and flew to the window. - My! — he screamed, falling like a star onto the bed. Valerka knew that the beds under the window are always considered the best. Why is unknown. However, Valerka personally liked the bunk in the corner better, and he silently placed his suitcase on it. And there is no second neighbor, and the exit is nearby, and it is more convenient to make a house out of a sheet to hide from mosquitoes. Valerka has been to pioneer camps many times already—he’s been going since third grade. Dad believed that Valerka reads too much and lacks communication with his peers. Valerka didn’t argue, although he was a little bored in the camps. The other bed under the window was immediately occupied by Tityapkin: he plopped down on his back and began to spin back and forth, as if he was screwing himself in for a more reliable fastening. But Lyova Khlopov suddenly slowly approached Tityapkin. “Listen,” he said soulfully. “I’m a football player, I run, my lungs are designed like this,” Lyova showed with his hands something like a woman’s breasts. — I need oxygen. Let me go to the window, okay? Hearing this, Valera chuckled, just like three years ago. Tityapkin was stunned. Lyova, of course, was the strongest in the ward, but that’s not the point. Even in such a short time, it was clear that everyone in their newly united company was listening to Lyova. Leva quietly became a recognized commander. And what should poor Tityapkin do now? Quarrel with Lyova when the others have become friends? - Yes, for a move! — Tityapkin said dashingly, as if it was a joy for him to give in to Lyova, and deftly jumped onto the bed opposite. - I scored this one! — Slavik Mukhin shouted offendedly. - I’m with Lyovka! — Tityapkin yelled at him. — Lyovka has no oxygen! - Fuck you! — Slavik pushed Tityapkin to the floor without argument. - Come on? — Tityapkin got angry. — Let’s go, let’s go out!.. “This is Slavik’s bed,” Lyova remarked disapprovingly to Tityapkin. The sensible Leva did not want to have the idiot Tityapkin around. And it was stupid for Tityapkin to quarrel with Lyova over Slavik’s bed, if he did not quarrel over his own bed. But Tityapkin felt humiliated. He needed to get even. His gaze swept across the ward and stopped at Valerka — small and wearing glasses. The bespectacled people are all weaklings and fools, Tityapkin had no doubt about that. And the place in the corner seems good. Valerka was sitting on the floor, transferring a neatly folded sweater and formal clothes — a white shirt and blue school trousers — from an open suitcase to the nightstand. And he built a “mosquito house.” Tityapkin jumped over Seryozha Domrachev’s bed and perched himself on Valerka’s bed, like a monkey on a branch. - What is that? — asked Andrey Tityapkin “A mosquito house,” answered the gloomy Valerka. - I’ll be here! — he said. — And you go to waste! He pointed to the empty cot next to the eighth boy, the nameless one. Valerka realized that a fight was brewing and stood up. His heart was pounding. - Go yourself! — he answered. - Are you crazy with glasses? — Tityapkin behaved like a punk. - You weren’t sitting there, Valerych! — Kolka Gorokhov supported Tityapkin. — You got your ass up — you lost your place! Don’t you know the rules? - You can’t fight, we can’t watch! — Gurka shouted from afar. - Get out of here, Titka! — Valerka growled. The boys laughed shamelessly, and even Lyova, with a strange expression on his face, as if he was trying to remember something, smiled. Tityapkin’s face jumped with offense. He rushed towards Valerka, clenching his fists. “Tityapa, it’s better to take the last bed,” Lyova ordered with a smile. Tityapkin was satisfied, although he received, in general, the same place against which he had rebelled so much. Heading towards his new bed, Tityapkin turned around and threw a fiery look at Valerka. - And the bespectacled one will be with you this evening, understand? “Shut your mouth, you’ll catch a cold,” Valerka answered fearlessly, as boys were supposed to, although he didn’t care about the threat, if he wanted, he could smear and drink the bully dry, but Lagunov didn’t want to show off his abilities. *** Half an hour later, the guys, having gathered and changed into full dress uniform, rushed to the line in honor of the opening of the Olympic shift. For about five minutes there was an uninteresting roll call and introduction to the detachments, but then that same “Whistle” took the floor. - Now we need to name ourselves. Meet the guys!.. The most strict person in our camp is the senior teacher Marina Fedorovna Rodionova! Let’s clap! The groups clapped the senior pupils, who waved in response, and then clapped Nikolai Petrovich Kolybalov, the director of the camp, Ruslan Maksimych Zakhvatkin, the physical education teacher, and Valentin Sergeevich Nosatov, the doctor. No one tried to remember names, patronymics and positions. - But here is the most important person in our camp! “Svistukha turned to a lean old man in a pioneer tie. — This is Serp Ivanovich Ieronov! Valerka shuddered on behalf of the stratilate, and the troops waited with interest for clarification. — Serp Ivanovich is a veteran of the Civil War! He is a pensioner of union significance! “Svistukha looked around at the troops with admiration. — Our squad takes patronage over such a wonderful person! Firework! Lagunov thought: “Yeah, of course. The vampire-stratilate is under patronage. Well, never mind, Serp, I will destroy you. And the sooner the better” Whistler raised her hand to her forehead, and all the troops also saluted. — We give Serp Ivanovich the honorable right to raise the flag of the Olympic shift! Your word, Comrade Ieronov! The tall Serp Ivanovich leaned slightly towards the microphone. “Hello, guys,” he said simply. His voice was thick and beautiful, but Valerka did not fall for it. “I hope I won’t interfere with you here in the camp.” Have you probably seen a blue house with a red roof? This is my dacha. This is the kind of landowner I am. Come visit and I’ll treat you to tea and cookies. “At the same time, I’ll turn you into my servants,” Valerka added to himself. The pioneers laughed hesitantly. No one, of course, thought of dropping in for a visit so easily, but, as they say, thank you for the invitation. Valerka again stood in the front row and had a good view of the old man. He’s a dangerous vampire. People run!!! - Serp Ivanovich took part in the revolution and liberated our city! — Svistukha shouted into the microphone from the side. “Yes, you probably don’t even remember about these events,” said Serp Ivanovich embarrassedly, excusing the pioneers in advance. - We remember! — the troops began to rustle: it was nice to show respect to such a friendly and modest person. — Who liberated our city, guys? — Whistler climbed in again. - Chapaev! — shouted with enthusiasm from all sides. You won’t forget Chapaev: near the Kuibyshev Drama Theater there was a large monument — Chapai on a horse and a bunch of all sorts of soldiers with rifles https://fs.tonkosti.ru/2p/ky/2pky99pl0lc0gk8ww4wsg40wc.jpg That same monument. - Who was driven away? — Serp Ivanovich asked slyly. - White! It is clear that they are white, not purple. But the whites were different. For Valerka, the old Civil War was a beautiful and heroic fairy tale that made her heart ache. Valerka read a lot about that time. “We drove away the interventionists,” he said quietly. Ieronov, of course, heard Valerka - So who said it? — said the old man The fourth squad quickly pointed to Valerka. — That one with the glasses! Valerka became numb. Eh, I should have been silent!.. Nothing good happens when you stick your head out with your opinion! How can he not remember this? Serp Ivanovich approached Valerka and put his hand on his shoulder. - Well done! — he praised quietly and with feeling. Valerka looked into the old man’s dark eyes. Serp Ivanovich’s sad eyes seemed to see everything in the world. There was an abyss hidden in them, as if he, Valerka, was looking through a telescope, falling into the high abyss of the night sky, only in that abyss there were no twinkling stars — only black smoke. Black smoke thirsty for human blood “We will raise the flag together,” turning around, Ieronov announced to the troops. The troops buzzed excitedly: the bespectacled boy was lucky!.. Serp Ivanovich took Valerka by the hand, like a grandson, and led her to the mast, which was dug in at the edge of the site. Valerka felt that the entire camp was looking at him. A cable was stretched along the mast on rollers, and a red banner was attached to the cable. The senior leader quietly signaled to the radio technician, and suddenly horns blew piercingly and drums began to thunder in the speakers. “Pull the rope,” Serp Ivanovich grinned. — Don’t be afraid. Valerka began to finger the cable, looking at the stratilate, and the red flag went up into the air. At the top of the mast he turned around and splashed in the bright sunny blue. All the boys and all the girls of the Burevestnik pioneer camp looked at the banner with their heads raised. Five-pointed stars, oaths and all sorts of Budyonnovkas have long turned into boring, meaningless and obligatory stupidity — both for children and adults — but in the raised flag there was still something honest, pure, real. Like the city pigeons that rummage through garbage dumps and peck at the husks of sunflower seeds on the sidewalks — but can suddenly fly. - Be ready! — Svistukha shouted, raising her hand in a salute. - Always ready! — the troops responded with a roar. Valerka returned to duty, feeling how the whole camp envied him. Valerka took his place between Slavik Mukhin and Yurik Tonkikh and tried to turn into a nobody so that they would stop staring at him.- Zashibonsko, Valeryanych! — Tityapkin whispered hotly to him from behind. Valerka realized that Tityapa no longer wanted to have a fight with a man who had suddenly become so famous. It will be worse for the boy.

***

After the line, having changed clothes, everyone went to dinner, and tomorrow, as Valerka remembered, Gor — Sanych will ask the physical education teacher for a football field where the guys will kick the ball, and in the evening, after a small skirmish, Leva will become a vampire-leech “I’ll have to talk to him,” Valerka whispered to himself as he went to bed.