"Me?"
"Who else?" He tried to turn round but couldn't. I looked over his
shoulder and saw that his long shirt was caught in a gear and two cogs
were turning slowly and "gobbling up" his embroidered hem.
"Your shirt..." I whispered very faintly.
Vitalka glanced over his shoulder and seeing what was wrong, pulled
hard but it was well and truly caught.
And the wheels were moving quite fast and chewing up more and more
material with their sharp teeth. In a couple of minutes' time they would
get to Vitalka himself.
"Well, do something!" shrieked Vitalka in despair and pulled again.
"It's a new shirt!"
Fancy, he was still thinking of the shirt!
I was now well and truly scared and for the first time in my life
felt my legs shaking with fear. It felt as if a large engine was revving
up underneath the floor.
But I simply had to collect my wits! So I angrily shifted from foot
to foot to stop them shaking and then felt the handle of my knife
wobbling by my right knee. How could I have forgotten it!
I grabbed my dagger and chopped off a piece of the hem.
"Have you gone off your rocker?" Vitalka wailed wretchedly.
"Have I?" Look!"
Vitalka stared down at the scrap of material being devoured by the
sharp cogs and wiped his sweaty brow.
"Phew... The clock sure went and bit a chunk off me! Oh well, at
least it's working."
"Let's get going," I said.
At that very moment a tremendous booming sound came from the bells.
We squatted and I dropped the knife which went hurling downwards.
"It's striking!" Vitalka exclaimed joyfully and triumphantly.
"Aren't we clever!"
Back at home we felt slightly less happy after we had counted our
losses and reckoned some of the possible unpleasant consequences.
Our cuts and scratches didn't count because they'd heal in no time,
but it was a pity about the knife. However, that wasn't the main thing.
A glance at myself in the mirror set me thinking hard and I realised that
if I did not wash my things fast, I'd certainly be in for a whale of a
time the next day... My suit was miraculously still intact but my white
socks were anything but white.
"Let's get some hot water and a basin," I said in despair.
"Why, that's nothing at all," replied Vitalka. "But what am I going
to do about my shirt? You've lopped off half the hem..."
"Crikey," I said sympathetically.
There was indeed a piece missing at the back of his shirt as if he
had been chased by a shark. However, Vitalka was a strong-willed
individual, and it was not until he helped me warm some water on the
stove that he gave way to his grief.
"Perhaps it can be mended somehow?" he asked and then answered
hopelessly himself, "Oh dash it! Of course it can't!"
"But maybe we could make a tuck behind?" I suggested, as I sembled my
socks in the basin. "You know, like fitted shirts have?"
"A tuck, my foot!" he said sarcastically. "What kind of tuck will
cover a whopping great hole like that? Couldn't you have chopped off a
bit less?"
"No, I couldn't," I said confidently, splashing the water out the
window. "If I had you'd have been turned into pulp."
"But Auntie Valya's going to do that to me now anyway," said Vitalka
dismally.
"Well... We'll think of something tomorrow morning."
Vitalka sighed and hung his shirt on the back of his chair in such a
way that the hole was not visible.
Over the town the clock struck half past one.
Chapter Thirteen
We did not, however, think of anything the next morning because we
overslept, and as she could not wake us by tapping the ceiling, Auntie
Valya came upstairs.
We were awoken by the sound of her steps and remembered everything in
a flash. Vitalka jumped into his trousers in a trice, cheerfully called
out "good morning" and stood between her and the chair with his shirt on
it.
"Good morning... What's made you sleep so late again?" asked Auntie
Valya in a slightly suspicious tone.
"We got carried away reading "Tom Sawyer" last night," I replied
hastily.
Auntie Valya shook her head, which meant that little boys should not
stay up late reading if it's a very good book but that she, Auntie Valya,
did not intend to say anything about this as she hoped we would realise
ourselves that we had acted wrongly and would not make the same mistake
again.
"Get washed and come have your breakfast," she said.
"Right!" rapped Vitalka rather too loudly and Auntie Valya pressed
her fingertips to her temples and hurried downstairs.
That morning Vitalka and I tried to be obedient and well-mannered,
but nothing good ever comes of trying too hard. Vitalka was in so much of
a hurry to get to breakfast that he forgot to take the watch out of his
pocket. His pockets were frayed and threadbare, and the watch heavy and
when we came in for breakfast, it finally dropped through his pocket and
hung on the end of its chain which was attached to his belt. What's more,
the chain was long and his pants short, and the watch could be seen
dangling below his knees.
"My word!" exclaimed Auntie Valya in surprise. "Why are you carrying
Grandpa's watch about with you? And in such a strange manner, too! It
might be old but it's still valuable."
Vitalka awkwardly mumbled something about him only needing in for a
moment. Generally speaking, he was a sharp enough fellow, but he was no
good at lying to his aunt, and, what's more, he loathed doing it.
I realised I had to come to his rescue fast.
"Auntie Valya, we wanted to synchronise it with the one on the
belfry! You know, while we were sitting up last night, we suddenly heard
the clock strike. Fancy being silent for all this time and then suddenly
working again! Strange, isn't it?"
"Yes, that is strange..." agreed Auntie Valya perplexedly. "But I
don't understand..."
At that moment, however, the sound of striking bells came through the
open windows. Ding-dong! Ding-dong!.. Ten times. (Yes, we certainly had
slept late that morning!)
"Amazing!" said Auntie Valya. "I didn't even notice. So they've
mended the town clock..."
"We were going to run out and find out," muttered Vitalka. "Because
we can't see it from the window."
Auntie Valya had a habit, however, of getting to the bottom of
things.
"Why did you have to see it? You can find out the time when it
strikes."
Vitalka started blinking confusedly.
"But, you know, it sometimes strikes late," I came to his rescue
again. "Or too early like your cuckoo, which starts popping out when it's
still five to."
Auntie Valya enjoyed intelligent explanations.
"I see," she said. "Well, have breakfast first before you go out, and
do take care of the watch."
Outside Vitalka said gloomily, "What am I going to do about the
shirt?"
I had no idea. "Maybe she won't be very angry?" I asked hesitantly.
"What's that got to do with it? She'll start asking questions about
how it happened! And then she'll find out where we were last night. If
you ask me, she's already guessed something."
"Well, what if you say you just caught it on something and ripped
it?"
"But where's the missing bit, then? It could be sewn on, you know."
"Well, you lost it! She's bound to ask, 'And who allowed you to go
off at night, my dears?'"
I began feeling gloomy, too.
"'Ripped it,' he says!" Vitalka grumbled, "Anyone can see it was cut
off with a knife... She is sure to find out. I've never really lied to
her. Do you think she believed what you said about the clock? I'm sure
she didn't!"
"Let's own up," I said.
He twisted his head and sighed, "But what about the carpet?"
"What about it? Do you think she'll take it away?"
"Well, we did promise not to get up to any more pranks with the
carpet... No, she won't take it away. She's kind - you know that. She'll
just tell us not to fly anywhere without her keeping an eye on us because
she's afraid for us. Or make us promise only to fly about the yard. Can
you imagine it?
"Yes, the future did not look very bright... But it was a sunny day
and there was masses of time left until evening and so, deciding it was
not worth getting totally despondent yet, we ran over to Breezy's place.
You see, we had not seen him and Vetka since our journey and adventure in
the old house.
They were sitting on the porch, mending the bicycle's buckled frame
and front wheel.
"So you tried it out after all," I said in dismay.
Vetka and Breezy were thrilled to see us and, interrupting each
other, told us that their flying bicycle had successfully taken off
downhill but then nose-dived and crashed into a patch of ashberry bushes.
After that Breezy had limped all day and Vetka had gone about with a
scratched nose. But this was not a serious set-back because they knew
where they had gone wrong: they had made wings but forgotten about a
stabiliser. Next time they would know better though.
Then we told them about our adventures and they were sad they had not
been with us, especially on the belfry, and asked us why we had not asked
them along.
"We had to leave fast, and it was night-time," explained Vitalka.
"Never mind, we'll fly together some other time... if everything works
out all right."
"Why do you say that?" asked Vetka anxiously.
Vitalka sadly told them about his shirt, and the four of us put our
heads together and tried to think of a way out.
"But why do you have to wear it outside?" asked Breezy. "If you tuck
it into your trousers, it'll look even better! And when you get back from
the circus, you can stuff it away somewhere and then see how things go."
Vitalka scratched the bridge of his nose with his nail and said
pensively, "That's an idea..."
But the idea did not appeal to Auntie Valya. We were all set to leave
for the circus when she suddenly exclaimed, "Vitalka! What have you done!
The hem's got such a lovely folk-style embroidery on it."
"So what if it has!" replied Vitalka. "I like it better like this."
"You just don't understand anything. It's very beautiful. You can't
see it like others can."
Vitalka tried arguing but Auntie Valya said, "Vitalka, you're quite
impossible."
And so he quickly pulled the shirt out from inside his belt, hung his
head and joined his hands behind his back to hide the missing piece of
hem. He looked like a guilty little girl and I felt sorry for him.
"I'll cover you from behind," I whispered.
"Right."
So off we set to the circus and along the way Auntie Valya asked
several times why I was lagging behind Vitalka instead of walking beside
him.
But everything went off all right and after we had settled in our
seats in the fourth row, Vitalka pressed his spine against the back of
his seat and relaxed a little.
I am not going to describe the performance because it has nothing to
do with our adventures. Suffice it to say that the famous clown,
Karandash, was on the arena, and it was wonderful. Vitalka and I laughed
so much that we forgot about all our troubles.
But we remembered again as soon as the interval came.
Auntie Valya informed us she would stay put but we could go and get
an ice-cream if we wanted to.
Well, of course we did. So Vitalka took the money and, like a
courtier before a queen, backed out of the row onto the staircase. Then
we formed a "close column" with me right behind him and set off in search
of ice-cream.
There was quite a crush and a queue in the refreshment room. We were
pushed and jostled on all sides and had no need to worry about anyone
spotting the hole in the hem. About ten minutes later our turn came and
we bought three ices - one and a half each - and pushed our way out of
the crowd.
We squatted under a cupboard containing a fire tap in a far corner
and slowly devoured all three ices.
We were already sadly licking the bare sticks when someone came up
and stood by us and we heard someone say in an insinuating tone, "Young
men, would you be so kind as to answer one question..."
Standing near us was a dark-haired, beaky fellow in narrow lilac
trousers, bright orange socks and a huge vivid shirt with palm-trees and
monkeys on it, the latest rage among fashion worshippers.
We disliked show-offs. We got up, Vitalka hitched up his shirt and
nonchalantly shoved his hands in his pockets. And as I did not have any,
I crossed my arms over my chest like Napoleon, moved one foot in a
squeaking sandal to one side and asked,
"What do you want?"
"My, what badly-mannered children," said the fellow benevolently and
then at once grew more serious and said, "All right. Now, joking apart,
I've got business to discuss with you. Want to know what kind of
business?"
We did, but we did not let on. Beaky smiled condescendingly and said,
"Got no questions? Well then, I'll ask mine - just one for the time
being..."
Drilling holes in each of us in turn with his eyes, he enunciated,
"How did you get inside the belfry, messieurs?"
To this day I am proud to remember that Vitalka and I did not so much
as bat an eyelid. But it's impossible to describe how cold I felt inside!
Later on Vitalka told me he had felt just the same.
"Mum's the word?" asked Beaky. "Well done. Silence is golden. But I
urge you to be perfectly frank with me - it's in your own interests. And
so that there's no misunderstanding, allow me to show you this bit of
evidence."
And he brought out missing piece of Vitalka's shirt.
Yes, the very same piece! Crinkled, stained green by the brass and
embroidered...
We stared at it as we would have done at the words "Conduct - Poor"
in a school report.
Beaky smirked, leant over and, raising the edge of Vitalka's shirt,
fitted the piece into place.
A perfect fit," he said. "So now what? Are we going to cooperate?"
Vitalka gulped and said in a rather hoarse but bold tone, "But why
must we speak to you?"
"Oh!" said Beaky. "I forgot to explain. This isn't just a private
conversation, it's official-like."
He took a little red book out of his pocket and waved it in front of
our noses without opening it.
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