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you won't!"


                              Chapter Eight

    He had not believe us at first but who would?!
    Even when we had carried the carpet  over in a roll and laid it  among
the dandelions growing thickly in  the yard, he smiled in  a comprehending
and slightly guilty way  as if to say:  "I can see you're  joking and want
to cheer  me up  but why  go to  so much  trouble? Fancy  dragging over  a
carpet..."
    "Sit down," said Vitalka.
    Smiling awkwardly, Breezy  stepped off the  porch and onto  the carpet
and sat down.
    "Don't be afraid," I warned.
    We rose about a  half a metre and  flew low over the  ground, sweeping
up a whirlwind  of dandelion seeds  behind us. Breezy  did not cry  out or
jump off the carpet: he simply  opened his eyes wide and gripped  my elbow
tightly.
    It was a wonderful day, a real  red-letter day.  We had a new  friend!
And everything in  the world -  the grass, the  sun, the puffy  clouds and
rustling rowan  bushes -  everything seemed  to be  rejoicing with  us. We
flew over the spacious yard,  making sharp turns and several  times soared
off  the  roof  into  the  sky  pierced  with  blazing sunrays. The carpet
carried all four of us without a murmur.
    The  only  thing  that  upset  us  slightly  was that Breezy could not
control the magic carpet. Vetka had  not learnt to either but she  did not
mind in the least  about it. Breezy, however,  was really upset. He  tried
again and  again to  make it  fly properly,  but it  either slid  sideways
under the fence or rose very slightly and then flopped down again.
    "Never mind," Vitalka and I consoled  him. "You'll get used to it  and
learn."
    "Yes, I will."
    When  we  grew  tired  of  flying,  we  settled  on the roof again and
started  talking  about  life  and  planets  and ships, paper soldiers and
Australian kangaroos, stamps and atomic energy, school and Sputniks...
    Then the light evening came.
    This may sound splendid but, you see, we wanted it to be dark  because
we had to get all the way to the town's park and get settled in the  thick
birch tops where we would have an excellent view of the screen.
    We  weren't  worried  we  would  discover  other  spectators among the
branches  because  the  birches'  trunks  were  straight  and  smooth  and
impossible to climb up.
    "It's time," said Vitalka.
    We sat  down on  the carpet.   Vetka carefully  checked to  see Breezy
jumped straight off the  steps and onto the  carpet as he had  done in the
afternoon and did  not break his  promise by accidentally  stepping on the
ground.
    We had to  fly low over  the ground, picking  quiet lines as  we went.
We had rolled the tail up and put it on top so that it did not get  caught
in the weeds.   Several times, at the  sight of passers-by, we  landed and
pretended to be  simply playing. The  passers-by shrugged their  shoulders
and wondered what sort of a game children could be playing on a carpet  in
the middle of the street. At long last we flew deftly up onto the roof  of
a three-storeyed  house across  the street  from the  park. When the coast
was clear, we swept like the  wind over the street and the  iron railings,
over the bushes and  flower beds and ploughed  our way into the  middle of
the birches.
    It  was  like  being  in  a  green  hut. Although you couldn't see the
ground through the branches, the light sky was peeping through the  leaves
above. Several branches were covering the screen and so we edged  forwards
slightly, broke off a couple and that did the trick. The film began...
    Once  again  a  little  plane  was  swaying  over the yellow sands and
deep-blue sea.  Once again  the azure  depths of  the sea  with its bright
shoals of tropical  fish and ominous,  shadowy sharks splashed  across the
screen. Once  again ten-year-old  Davy, straining  himself to  the utmost,
dragged his wounded father over to the plane while a plaintive song  about
being all alone in the world rang over the impassive sands.
    The boy was  our close friend.  We were with  him heart and  soul, and
his very  step made  us either  happy or  sad. We  knew every  sequence by
heart but still felt thrilled when he lifted the plane into the air.
    We did not  notice it get  dark, indeed, much  darker than it  usually
was  even  late  at  night  in  summer.  Then  all of a sudden I shuddered
because a raindrop  had plopped onto  my neck like  a cold grape,  and was
rolling down the back of my collar.
    The rain suddenly came pouring  down, crashing through the leaves  and
branches and beating down on our shoulders and backs, and on the carpet.
    Glassy threads  of rain  shone like  silver in  the projector's light.
Then a commotion broke out in the audience and the screen went back.
    Vitalka was the first to sense trouble.
    "Let's go!" he exclaimed and we tore out of the wet branches and  sped
at an angle over the street, barely clearing the fences.
    "Higher! We  must fly  higher!" I  yelled, thinking  that Vitalka  was
keeping close to the ground on purpose.
    But it was the rain keeping us down. The drenched carpet grew  heavier
and heavier until it finally flopped down onto the wet granite  flagstones
in a yard.
    "We're landed," I said in despair. "Now what are we going to do?"
    "We can go the  rest of the way  on foot," said Vetka.  "We are soaked
as it is."
    Did she  really think  I was  worried about  getting wet?  I could not
have cared  less about  the rain!  All I  was thinking  about was what was
going to happen to  the carpet. Suppose it  never flew again? It  was such
an appalling thought that I did not even dare utter it aloud.
    The carpet looked  limp and lifeless.  Everyone except Breezy  stepped
off it and stood on the stone flags.
    "You can't," said Vetka sternly. "You promised, don't forget."
    "But what shall I do?" he asked.
    "He  promised,"  Vetka  repeated,  staring  exactingly  at Vitalka and
myself.
    With a sigh  Vitalka offered Breezy  his back with  his shirt sticking
to it.
    "Get on"
    "Oh no, I can't..." said Breezy sadly. "Really I..."
    "Get on," repeated Vitalka. We'll carry you home. After all, it's  our
fault you've got into this mess."
    "No, it's my own fault."
    "Get on," I said.
    A few moments  later Breezy was  riding along on  Vitalka's back while
Vetka and I carried the roll  of carpet on our shoulders. It  was terribly
heavy because of all  the water it had  absorbed. But it wasn't  really so
much the weight that  was getting me down  as the thought that  the carpet
might not fly again.
    Every now and then Breezy demanded  to be put down but, Vitalka  would
tell him to stay put.
    The rain stopped. In the  distance thunder rolled over the  roof-tops,
as  we  silently  splashed  along  the  wet  pavements all the way back to
Vetka's house. Then Vetka got out  her bicycle, told Breezy to get  on the
back seat and said she would take him right to his porch while we  dragged
the carpet home.
    "Will you come tomorrow?" Breezy asked hastily.
    "Yes," I promised, and it then occurred to me that even if the  carpet
did not fly again, we had still been blessed with a wonderful new friend.


                              Chapter Nine

    How nerve-racking the next day was! The carpet lay on the roof in  the
sunshine and the  steam rising from  it smelled like  mists in a  tropical
forest (or, at least,  that's what it reminded  us of). It dried  out very
slowly and when we tried flying on it, it did not budge an inch.
    Gazing at  me with  wistful eyes,  Vitalka asked,  "Has it  really had
it?"
    I just shrugged my  shoulders. To tell the  truth, I was choking  back
my tears, but I  said courageously: "Its magic  is so strong, a  few drops
of rain can't possibly do it any harm!"
    Vetka came by and tenderly  stroked the carpet's damp coat.  We called
on Breezy  several times,  and each  time he  called down  from the  roof,
"Well?"
    "It's still  not dry.  We'll just  have to  wait," we would cheerfully
reply. "Perhaps it'll be dry by the evening."
    But that evening the carpet still refused to fly.
    But  the  next  morning  held  a  wonderful  surprise in store for us.
Vitalka and I woke up at exactly the same time, dashed towards the  window
and climbed onto the  roof. The carpet was  once again light, silky,  soft
and ready to fly. In  fact, lying there it looked  as if it had been  just
waiting for us!
    We flopped onto its  caressingly warm coat and  flew up into the  sky.
It was still early, and the cockerels were crowing joyfully in the yards.
    Later that day  Breezy's mother returned  home in a  cheerful mood and
was not at all angry with him.
    "You poor  little mite!  Have you  been sitting  on the  roof all this
time?" she  exclaimed hearing  that Breezy  had stayed  under house arrest
all these days. "I quite forgot to tell you you were free to go! Don't  be
angry with me, darling, I won't do it again!"
    And so Breezy  at once asked  permission to go  over to our  place and
spend the night there.
    We  showed  him  our  cardboard  soldiers,  Vitalka's  paintings,  our
weapons, telescope and all  our other treasures. We  put on a show  battle
of our  armies which  lasted until  the evening.   And late  that night we
stole Vetka away from home and set off flying. And we felt as happy as  we
had done the very first time because we were now discovering the sky,  the
town at  night, the  twinkling evening  stars and  streaming warm  air all
over again together with Breezy.

    At  that  time  nothing  marred  our happiness and friendship. Nothing
that is,  except Breezy's  unsuccessful attempts  to fly  the carpet which
made him feel  angry and us  rather guilty. You  see, our carpet  wouldn't
obey him.
    "I can't," he would say unhappily. "Somehow I don't believe that  it's
going to take off. Now if only it had a steering wheel..."
    We understood what  he meant. All  his life he  had dreamed of  planes
and imagined  himself holding  control levers,  and could  not think  of a
flight in any other way.
    But we couldn't attach a steering wheel to our carpet.
    "But I'll learn!" Breezy kept  assuring us. "I will, honest!  And does
it matter who pilots the carpet? We fly on it all together, don't we?"
    "Wouldn't it be great to go on a long flight?" said Vitalka.
    And we all agreed. Vetka  and Breezy did so perhaps  without thinking,
but I really meant it. After  all, that's what we had been  dreaming about
for so long!
    We were often lucky that summer,  and were certainly so in the  matter
of our distant flight.  One  day Auntie Valya received a postcard  from an
old friend  in a  nearby town.   After going  about the  whole day  with a
pensive expression on her face, she asked  us if she could rely on us  and
if we could manage on  our own for two days  while she went to visit  some
friends of her youth.
    "On our  own? Why,  we can  live at  my place.  Everything'll be fine,
Auntie Valya," I replied, giving Vitalka a meaningful look.
    Two whole days! We'd be able to fly far away into the unknown!
    We gazed so sincerely at Auntie Valya that she did not suspect any  of
our wicked  plans. I  ran home  and back  again and  informed Auntie Valya
that Mum said  she was not  to worry about  us. In fact,  Mum did not even
know Auntie Valya was  leaving. She was busy  at work in the  library from
early morning  till evening  because half  of her  colleagues were away on
holiday.
    Next morning we  saw off Auntie  Valya at the  station and then  raced
over to  Breezy's.   Vetka and  he were  fixing a  strange contraption  of
narrow  criss-crossed  wooden  laths  covered  with  polythene film onto a
bicycle frame.
    "Whatever's that?" I asked in amazement.
    Breezy and Vetka looked rather embarrassed.
    "Well, they're...  sort of  wings," said  Breezy. "If  you go downhill
fast enough, you may take off... like a plane."
    I  blinked  in  surprise.  Take  off?  Why  bother  with this creaking
thingumajig when we had the magic carpet?
    "Why..." I began but stopped  because I saw Vitalka looking  sadly and
sympathetically at Breezy and Vetka  or, rather, mainly at Vetka.  And for
some  reason  she  was  blushing  and  standing  with her back towards us,
twisting a long curl round her finger. Oh, Vetka, Vetka...
    I did not say anything because  I realised Breezy and Vetka had  found
a magic  carpet of  their own  or, rather,  were making  one. True, it was
very clumsy-looking and  heavy but what  did that matter?  They were happy
together and had a fairy-tale all of their own.
    And so that was that. But I still said, "Auntie Valya's gone away  for
two days. Why don't we fly to the far woods and spend all day there?"
    Breezy raised his honest  eyes and it was  obvious he did not  want to
fly there but dared not say no as he was afraid of offending us.
    "Or if  you'd rather,"  I said  hurriedly. "We'll  fly there  first on
reconnaissance and then all fly there together next time."
    He smiled gratefully.
    "Right!" he  said with  relief. "And  meanwhile we'll  finish this off
and then all go together..."
    No, we did not  hold it against Breezy  and Vetka. Only once  while he
was putting some food  for our journey into  a string bag did  Vitalka say
sadly, "So that's that."
    And then all of  a sudden I pictured  Vetka dancing "The Little  Star"
on the edge of the carpet.
    "I  do  hope  they  don't  break  anything  when  they're trying their
thingamy out," I said anxiously.
    "They won't  have time  to," Vitalka  replied. "We'll  be back  by the
time they've finished it."

    It  was  our  longest  and  happiest  flight.  We  flew  over  a  vast
uninhabited forest  and the  town gradually  disappeared behind  the birch
and fir tops. I  now seemed as if  the whole world was  covered with thick
branchy trees.
    What  was  it  like  skimming  slowly  over  the tree tops? Well, when
you're on a train going along a steep embankment over a forest, the  trees
drift by below in a somewhat  similar way. Stick your head out  the window
and have a look:  if the embankment's steep,  it feels rather like  you're
flying but, of course, it's not really the same.
    The train  carriage is  clanking and  jolting along  and the  oncoming
wind reeks  of fumes  and you  can't stop  and admire  the trees or have a
closer look at a squirrel in a  dark round hollow or a nest full  of funny
scrawny-necked fledglings.
    We were drifting along in silence  and only the trees all around  were
rustling quietly and evenly.   The dry sou'wester sent  waves of warm  air
rolling over us. We were lying flat on the carpet, leaning our heads  over
the side and peering  down into the deep  dark forest.  It  was like green
glass with orange spots of sunlight swaying on the grass and bushes.   The
rose hips were  glittering like little  lights and the  resin on the  pine
trunks glinted and sparkled.
    All of a sudden we caught sight of a bright red fox which spotted  us,
too, and bolted through trees. I  had most likely mistaken the carpet  for
a huge bird  of prey. We  chased after it  until it dived  under a pile of

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