(c) Vladislav Krapivin 1972,2000
(c) Translated by Jan Yevtushenko, 1984
Vladislav Krapivin.
The Pilot for Special Missions.
Chapter One
That spring Alex's parents had moved into a wonderful new flat. It
was on the fourth floor and its windows looked out onto all the tall
blocks of flats around and the little old houses further down towards the
end of Glider Street.
This area had once been a sports airfield, which in summer was
overgrown with clover, plantain, and all sorts of other plants whose
names nobody knew. Wormwood grew thickly along the airfield's edges and
in the midst of it stood a small lorry with a winch which used to wind a
thin cord round a drum and hoist the different-coloured gliders into the
air in the same way as children fly kites at the end of long lengths of
string.
Alex was told all about it by the children who used to live in the
old houses nearby and Val Yakovlev told him a truly amazing story about
how a real aircraft had landed at the airfield once. It was a two-seater
with orange wings, a silver body and red numbers on its side. Something
must have gone wrong with its engine and its pilot was forced to make an
emergency landing but as he did not know the best place to land, he kept
circling overhead. So Val dashed out onto the runway, dived into the
grass and stretched his arms out in a letter "T" as a landing signal
showing the pilot how best to land into the wind. After landing his plane
and fiddling about with its engine for a while, the pilot asked Val if he
would like a spin. Val, of course, jumped at the idea and the pilot
helped him into the back seat and did three circles over the field. None
of other children - not even the ones who had been living there longest -
believed this story but Alex did. He was willing to believe anything
worthwhile and interesting.
He often recalled the story afterwards and secretly envied Val. And
he once even dreamed of something similar. True, his dream was not quite
the same but he also saw an aeroplane and an airfield. It was a warm
night and the sky over the airfield was studded with huge stars and only
the distant horizon was streaked with crimson from the setting sun with
the black outlines of the tall blades of grass standing out clearly
against it. A little plane was waiting there and Alex was hurrying
towards it, waist-high in grass, as fast as his legs could carry him for
he was terrified it would take off without him.
Later on he wrote the following poem:
I dreamed a plane was waiting for me,
A night plane without lights.
In its cockpit sat a pilot,
Chewing on cigarette end, anxiously
For I was nowhere in sight.
And I ran and ran towards the plane.
As fast as my legs would carry me,
Dreading the black flight ahead.
The pilot said, "I'm in a heck of a hurry,
Get in quick and let's be off.
Please put on your parachute:
There'll be danger on the way."
What exactly he meant by that
I never did find out
For at that very moment I awoke...
The morning town was roaring outside
And so it was my spell broke...
Alex wrote this serious poem down in a thick exercise book along with
all his other serious poems, the one about a dog losing its master, and
another about a boy who was made to take violin lessons although he
really wanted to be an explorer and not a musician, and many other
besides.
He did not show his book to anyone for he did not dare to and,
anyway, it was his secret. What's more, one of his last poems contained
the following lines:
Masha, like a daisy in the grass,
You're sweet, pretty and kind,
How wonderful it is you exist!
That's what matters most to my mind.
It was obvious you would not care too much for anyone to see these
verses. Alex, however, did not hide the fact that he wrote poetry. On
the contrary, he was only too pleased to write funny limericks for the
school magazine or clues for games of charades. And he once wrote some
verses about the prince in "Cinderella" and it was because of them that
he fell out with Olympiada Victorovna. And it is with this incident that
our story begins - the story about the journey with the Green Pass and
Alex and the Pilot and many other wonderful things.
Olympiada Victorovna ran a children's drama group in the recreation
room attached to the administration offices in Alex's block of flats.
The group was intended to give the children an extra interest at home.
Now retired, Olympiada Victorovna had worked for many years as a theatre
wardrobe mistress. She could have been an actress but for the
unfortunate circumstance that she had never learnt to pronounce her "r"s
and said something more like a "w". For instance, a conversation between
her and Uncle Yura, the local plumber, would go something like this:
"It's a disgwace! When are the wadiators going to be mended? It's
weally widiculous twying to work in this woom!"
Uncle Yura who was by no means shy but, on the contrary, rather rude,
cringed and mumbled, "We'll get it done. I'll report it to the manager
today. Right now, I will!"
But Olympiada Victorovna, tall, erect and stern, fired back, "I can't
possibly teach childwen to appweciate beauty in a damp woom! We've going
to wuin the pwemiere and it'll be all your fault!"
And as she said so, she pointed her spindly, pencil-like index finger
at poor old Uncle Yura as if she was going to stab him with it.
The drama group was rehearsing for a production of "Cinderella" and
the title role was being played by Masha Berezkina - the girl whom Alex
had dedicated his poem to.
Although she and Alex went to the same school, they were in parallel
forms and so Alex could not get to know her well at school and she did
not come out to play in their yard at home because she took music and
figure-skating lessons.
However, after they broke up for the summer holidays Alex found out
that Masha had joined the drama group and so at once joined too.
He very much hoped that Olympiada Victorovna would give him the
prince's part for, you see, the prince had to fence against some bandits
trying to kidnap Cinderella and Alex was good at fencing as there had
been a fencing section at his old school and he had taken a few lessons.
(In fact, he was sorry he had to change schools).
Unfortunately, however, Olympiada Victorovna had announced that Alex
was to stand guard at the royal palace's gates and chose for the prince's
part a taller and older boy.
For some reason or other everybody went into raptures over her choice
and hailed him as a wonderfully talented actor, but Alex could see
nothing special in him. And when the prince was dressed up in his royal
attire, Alex even noticed that he was far too skinny and had slightly
bandy legs. What's more, he had no idea about how to carry a sword. And
Alex had then gone back-stage muttering under his breath, "Our prince's
bandy-legged... And his sword's drooping like a brolly on a stand."
All of a sudden he heard someone laugh and spotted Masha standing
very close to him. She laughed quietly and heartily and then seized hold
of Alex's elbow and said in a very kind voice: "Oh, Alex' do stop
feeling upset. How can you get so worked up over just a silly prince.
I've got to act most the play with him but I'm not letting it get me
down, see."
Alex felt like whooping with joy but did not, of course. He simply
smiled to show that everything was all right and he had no intention of
getting upset. And he felt so happy that he even volunteered to go and
fetch some old hats with Olympiada Victorovna. Then in appeared that
Masha was going, too.
The hats were for the royal guards, courtiers and fat coachman whom
the Fairy Godmother made out of rat. But where could you get so many
hats from? It seemed Olympiada Victorovna knew just the place to go.
She announced that she had "an old fwend" called Sofia Alexandrovna who
had also been a wardrobe mistress once, but was now retired. She was,
however, still kept just busy as before by her important life-long hobby
of collecting hats. She had over a thousand of them and they were all
different. So famous was her collection that there had even been an
article about her in a national theatre journal. Representatives from
various theatres and drama studios often visited Sofia Alexandrovna to
ask her advice and borrow hats for their productions. She was only
pleased to give advice but less so to lend her hats as three years ago a
local drama group had lost a Spanish cocked hat of hers.
"But she'll definitely come to out wescue," said Olympiada
Victorovna. "She'll wescue us because we're old fwends." And so off they
went.
On the way there Olympiada Victorovna told Masha and Alex about how
Sofia Alexandrovna lived in an old house on the edge of a gully in
Lopukhov Lane. She had had plenty of opportunities to move into a new
flat but did not want to in case her hats got spoiled or lost during the
removal. What's more, she had four tom-cats named Kuzya, Roly-Poly, Vaska
and Matador. Sofia Alexandrovna simply doted on them and was afraid they
would not take to a new flat.
"Of course, this may sound wather funny," remarked Olympiada
Victorovna," but we must bear with other people's weaknesses."
And saying so, for some reason or other, she gave Alex a stern look,
but he took no notice as he was walking, looking at Masha and thinking
with a smile, "Masha, you're pretty and kind, to my mind..."
It was a bright hot day in June and Masha's golden hair was shining
in the sunlight and she, too, looked very bright as she hopped and
skipped along the pavement and chased after a shiny lemonade bottle top.
Chapter Two
The little house was standing right on the edge of the gully. A very
long time ago it had probably been quite attractive but was now so old
and so deeply sunken in the earth that its window-panes nearly reached
the ground, its drainpipes dug into the grass and there was a hollow
where there had once been a porch by the door.
The door was opened by frail old lady with a pointed nose.
"Sofia, darling!" exclaimed Olympiada Victorovna, sweeping towards
her. "What a pleasure this is!"
However, it did not seem a pleasure to Sofia Alexandrovna. She
looked so distressed that Olympiada Victorovna stopped sharply.
"But, Sofia, my dear! What ever's wong?"
"Oh, my dear Lympie," sobbed Sofia Alexandrovna. "Kuzya's been
stolen..."
"It can't be!"
The old lady waved her hands despairingly.
"He can't have been!" said Olympiada Victorovna firmly. "He's just
gone off for a walk somewhere, that's all. You weally shouldn't be so
upset!"
"Oh no, he hasn't. He's never done it before. He always comes home in
the evening but he's been missing for two days. I've already contacted
the militia but they don't want to look for him and I think they find my
complaint ridiculous."
"Oh, how heartless of them," said Olympiada Victorovna. "But
Sofia... Is it really worth getting so upset? After all, you've got thwee
other cats and they're all weally adowable cweatures."
Sofia Alexandrovna waved her hand feebly.
"Oh, these creatures... They never stop fighting... Of course, I love
them dearly but Kuzya was the best of all. He was so affectionate and
sweetnatured... Oh, but do please come in," she recollected suddenly.
"What ever am I..."
The large low-ceilinged room smelled of mothballs, mould and cats.
Slanting rays of sunlight streamed through the small windows and were
reflected off the yellow floor. The dusty cut-glass chandelier hanging
from the ceiling and the silver teaspoons in the old dresser were
gleaming dimly.
"Do sit down," sighed Sofia Alexandrovna.
But this was practically impossible as there were hats lying on all
the chair. Indeed, everywhere you looked, hats were poking out of
shelves, hanging on walls, stacked high on an old squat chest of drawers.
Grand silk top hats, straw boaters, Mexican sombreros, Tyrolese hunting
hats with pheasant's feathers and musketeer hats with plumes.
"Golly! whispered Masha.
Olympiada Victorovna pushed Masha and Alex forward and said, "These
are two talented young artists of mine. We're here on business..."
"Talented, my foot!" Alex thought angrily. "It's your prince who's
talented. You only need me to lug your hats about." But of course he said
nothing aloud but simply stood gazing round.
There were other interesting things in the room besides hats such as
a bronze candlestick with blue glass trimmings, an old gramophone with a
huge horn and a brightly-coloured china gnome sitting half inside an egg
like a goose's.
The gnome was standing on the chest of drawers next to a pile of hats
and among various scraps of material and yellowed lace. Alex stepped
nearer to get a better look at the gnome.
Then all of a sudden behind the hats he caught sight of glass box
rather like an aquarium.
"Surely fishes can't be living in such a dark box," thought Alex. He
carefully moved a grey cowboy's hat aside to have a look at the aquarium
but the pile of hats collapsed and tumbled on the floor.
But it wasn't Alex's fault! A tousled ginger cat shot out from under
the hats, bounded across the room and catapulted out of the window.
"Roly-Poly!" gasped Sofia Alexandrovna. "What's got into you? Oh,
gracious me, you never give me a moment's peace."
Alex and Masha began hurriedly picking up the hats.
"Never mind, never mind," Sofia Alexandrovna kept saying. "It was
Roly, the little devil, that knocked them over... What delightful
children... This cap goes here..."
Freed from the pile of top hats, bowlers and cocked hats, the shiny
glass box stood all alone on the chest. It was not an aquarium. It was a
glass case containing a sailing ship on bronze supports that was no
bigger than a cowboy's hat but was a perfectly made model ship.
Alex leaned against the chest and for a while forgot about everything
else in the world.
You would be wrong to think that Alex dreamed of becoming a captain
or a traveller. No, he had another dream but he did love the sea. The
year before he had been to the Crimea and still recalled the brilliant
blue horizons, green breakers and huge stems of passenger-ships rising
above the piers. Well, and, of course, he was also very fond of books
about pirates, sea adventures and sailing ships. And one look at the
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