When I was little, I was given a tricycle. And I learned to ride it. I immediately sat down and rode off, not at all afraid, as if I had been riding bicycles all my life.
Mom said:
- Look how capable he is of sports.
And dad said:
- He sits rather monkeyishly...
And I learned how to ride and pretty soon began to do different things on a bicycle, like funny performers in a circus. For example, I rode backwards or lying on the saddle and turning the pedals with whatever hand I wanted - you want it with your right hand, you want it with your left hand;
rode sideways, legs splayed;
I drove while sitting on the steering wheel, sometimes with my eyes closed and no hands;
drove with a glass of water in hand.
In a word, I got the hang of everything.
And then Uncle Zhenya turned off one wheel of my bicycle, and it became two-wheeled, and again I learned everything very quickly. And the guys in the yard began to call me “the champion of the world and its environs.”
And so I rode my bike until my knees began to rise higher than the handlebars while riding. Then I realized that I had already grown out of this bicycle, and began to think when dad would buy me a real “Schoolboy” car.
And then one day a bicycle drives into our yard. And the guy who sits on it doesn’t swing his legs, but the bicycle rattles under him like a dragonfly and moves on its own. I was terribly surprised. I've never seen a bike move on its own. A motorcycle is another matter, a car is another matter, a rocket is clear, but what about a bicycle? Myself?
I just couldn’t believe my eyes.
And this guy on a bicycle rode up to Mishka’s front door and stopped. And he turned out to be not an uncle at all, but a young guy. Then he put the bike near the pipe and left. And I was left there with my mouth open. Suddenly Mishka comes out.
He says:
- Well? What are you staring at?
I speak:
- He’s going on his own, understand?
Mishka says:
– This is our nephew Fedka’s car. Bicycle with motor. Fedka came to us on business - to drink tea.
I'm asking:
– Is it difficult to drive such a car?
“Nonsense about vegetable oil,” says Mishka. – It starts with half a turn.
You press the pedal once, and you're done - you can go. And there is gasoline in it for a hundred kilometers. And the speed is twenty kilometers in half an hour.
- Wow! Wow! - I say. - This is a car! Would love to ride one like this!
Here Mishka shook his head:
- It will fly in. Fedka will kill. The head will be torn off!
- Yes. Dangerous, I say.
But Mishka looked around and suddenly declared:
“There’s no one in the yard, but you’re still a “world champion.” Sit down! I'll help you accelerate the car, and you push the pedal once, and everything will go like clockwork. You drive two or three circles around the kindergarten, and we will quietly put the car in place. Fedka drinks tea with us for a long time. Three glasses are blowing. Let's!
- Let's! - I said.
And Mishka began to hold the bicycle, and I perched on it. One foot actually reached the very tip of the pedal, but the other hung in the air like noodles. I pushed myself away from the pipe with this pasta, and Mishka ran next to me and shouted:
- Press the pedal, press it!
I tried, I slid a little sideways from the saddle and as soon as I pressed the pedal. The bear clicked something on the steering wheel... And suddenly the car began to crackle, and I drove off!
I'm off! Myself! I don’t press the pedals - I don’t reach them, I just drive, I keep my balance!
It was wonderful! The wind whistled in my ears, everything around me flew quickly in a circle: a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again a post, and all over again, and I was driving, clutching the steering wheel, and Mishka kept running after me, but on the third lap he shouted:
- I'm tired! – and leaned against the post.
And I went alone, and I had a lot of fun, and I kept driving and imagining that I was participating in a motorcycle race along a steep wall.
I saw a brave artist rushing like that in the cultural park...
And the post, and Mishka, and the swing, and the house management - everything flashed before me for quite a long time, and everything was very good, only my leg, which was hanging like a spaghetti, began to tingle a little... And I also suddenly felt somehow uneasy , and my palms immediately became wet, and I really wanted to stop.
I got to Mishka and shouted:
- Enough! Stop it!
The bear ran after me and shouted:
- What? Speak louder!
-Are you deaf, or what?
But Mishka has already fallen behind. Then I drove another circle and shouted:
- Stop the car, Mishka!
Then he grabbed the steering wheel, the car shook, he fell, and I drove on again.
I look, he meets me again at the post and yells:
- Brake! Brake!
I rushed past him and began to look for this brake. But I didn’t know where he was! I began to turn various screws and press something on the steering wheel. Where there! No point. The car is crackling as if nothing had happened, and thousands of needles are already digging into my pasta leg!
- Bear, where is this brake?
- I forgot!
- Remember!
- Okay, I’ll remember, just spin around a little more!
- Quickly remember, Mishka! - I scream again.
- I can’t remember! You better try jumping!
- I'm sick!
If I had known that this would happen, I would never have started riding, it’s better to walk, honestly!
And here again Mishka shouts ahead:
- We need to get the mattress they sleep on! So that you crash into him and stop! What are you sleeping on?
- On a cot!
- Then drive until the gas runs out!
I almost ran him over for this. “Until the gas runs out”... This may be another two weeks of running around the kindergarten like this, and we have tickets to the puppet theater for Tuesday. And it stings my leg! I shout to this fool:
- Run for your Fedka!
- He's drinking tea! - Mishka shouts.
- Then he’ll finish his drink! - I yell.
But he didn’t hear enough and agrees with me:
- He will kill! Will definitely kill!
And again everything started spinning in front of me: the post, the gate, the bench, the swing, the house management. Then it was the other way around: house management, swing, bench, post, and then it went mixed up: house, post management, mushroom... And I realized that things were bad.
But at that time someone grabbed the car tightly, it stopped rattling, and they slapped me quite hard on the back of the head. I realized that it was Mishkin Fedka who finally drank some tea. And I immediately started to run, but I couldn’t, because the pasta leg stabbed into me like a dagger. But I still didn’t lose my head and galloped away from Fedka on one leg.
And he didn’t bother to catch up with me.
And I wasn’t angry with him for slapping him on the head. Because without him, I would probably still be circling the yard.
Englishman Paul
“Tomorrow is the first of September,” said my mother. – And now autumn has come, and you will go to second grade. Oh, how time flies!..
“And on this occasion,” dad picked up, “we will now “slaughter” a watermelon!”
And he took a knife and cut the watermelon. When he cut, such a full, pleasant, green crack was heard that my back went cold with anticipation of how I was going to eat this watermelon. And I was already opening my mouth to grab a pink slice of watermelon, but then the door swung open and Pavel entered the room. We were all terribly happy, because he had not been with us for a long time and we missed him.
- Wow, who came! - said dad. - Pavel himself. Pavel the Wart himself!
“Sit down with us, Pavlik, there’s a watermelon,” said mom, “Deniska, move over.”
I said:
- Hello! - and gave him a place next to him.
- Hello! - he said and sat down.
And we began to eat and ate for a long time and were silent. We didn't feel like talking.
What is there to talk about when there is such deliciousness in your mouth!
And when Pavel was given the third piece, he said:
- Oh, I love watermelon. Even more. My grandmother never gives me plenty of it to eat.
- And why? - Mom asked.
“She says that after drinking watermelon, I don’t end up sleeping, but just running around.”
“True,” said dad. “That’s why we eat watermelon early in the morning.” By evening, its effect wears off and you can sleep peacefully. Come on, eat, don't be afraid.
“I’m not afraid,” said Pavlya.
And we all got down to business again and again were silent for a long time. And when mom began to remove the crusts, dad said:
- Why haven’t you been with us for so long, Pavel?
“Yes,” I said. - Where have you been? What did you do?
And then Pavel puffed up, blushed, looked around and suddenly casually dropped, as if reluctantly:
- What did you do, what did you do?.. Studied English, that’s what you did.
I was completely taken aback. I immediately realized that I had wasted my time all summer. He tinkered with hedgehogs, played rounders, and occupied himself with trifles. But Pavel, he didn’t waste time, no, you’re being naughty, he worked on himself, he raised his level of education.
He studied English and now he will probably be able to correspond with English pioneers and read English books!
I immediately felt that I was dying of envy, and then my mother added:
- Here, Deniska, study. This is not your bast!
“Well done,” said dad. - I respect you!
Pavlya just beamed.
– A student, Seva, came to visit us. So he works with me every day. It's been two whole months now. Just completely tortured me.
– What, difficult English? – I asked.
“It’s crazy,” Pavel sighed.
“It wouldn’t be difficult,” dad intervened. “The devil himself will break their leg there.” Very difficult spelling. It's spelled Liverpool and pronounced Manchester.
- Well, yes! - I said. - Is that right, Pavlya?
“This is real trouble,” said Pavlya. “I was completely exhausted from these activities, I lost two hundred grams.
- So why don’t you use your knowledge, Pavlik? - said mom, “Why didn’t you say “hello” to us in English when you came in?
“I haven’t said hello yet,” said Pavlya.
- Well, you ate watermelon, why didn’t you say “thank you”?
“I said it,” said Pavlya.
- Well, yes, you said it in Russian, but in English?
“We haven’t gotten to the “thank you” point yet,” said Pavlya. – Very difficult propo-hanging.
Then I said:
- Pavel, teach me how to say “one, two, three” in English.
“I haven’t studied this yet,” said Pavlya.
– What did you study? - I shouted. – In two months, have you still learned anything?
“I learned how to say “Petya” in English,” said Pavlya.
- Well, how?
“That's right,” I said. - Well, what else do you know in English?
“That’s all for now,” said Pavlya.
Death of the spy Gadyukin
It turns out that while I was sick, it became quite warm outside and there were two or three days left before our spring break. When I arrived at school, everyone shouted:
- Deniska has arrived, hurray!
And I was very glad that I came and that all the guys were sitting in their places - Katya Tochilina, and Mishka, and Valerka - and there were flowers in pots, and the board was just as shiny, and Raisa Ivanovna was cheerful, and everything, everything was as always. And the guys and I walked and laughed during recess, and then Mishka suddenly looked important and said:
– And we will have a spring concert!
I said:
Mishka said:
- Right! We will perform on stage. And the guys from the fourth grade will show us the production. They composed it themselves. Interesting!..
I said:
– And you, Mishka, will perform?
– As you grow up, you’ll find out.
And I began to look forward to the concert. At home I told my mother all this, and then said:
- I also want to perform...
Mom smiled and said:
-What can you do?
I said:
- How, mom, don’t you know? I can sing loudly. After all, I sing well? Don't look that I got a C in singing. I still sing great.
Mom opened the closet and said from somewhere behind the dresses:
– You will sing another time. After all, you were sick... You will simply be a spectator at this concert. “She came out from behind the closet. “It’s so nice to be a spectator.” You sit and watch the artists perform... Good! And another time you will be an artist, and those who have already performed will be spectators. OK?
I said:
- OK. Then I will be a spectator.
And the next day I went to the concert. Mom couldn’t go with me - she was on duty at the institute - dad had just left for some factory in the Urals, and I went to the concert alone. In our large hall there were chairs and a stage was made, and a curtain hung on it. And Boris Sergeevich was sitting downstairs at the piano. And we all sat down, and the grandmothers of our class stood along the walls. Meanwhile I started gnawing on an apple.
Suddenly the curtain opened and counselor Lucy appeared. She said in a loud voice, like on the radio:
– We are starting our spring concert! Now first grade “B” student Misha Slonov will read his own poems to us! Let's ask!
Then everyone clapped and Mishka came onto the stage. He came out quite boldly, reached the middle and stopped. He stood there for a while and put his hands behind his back. He stood there again. Then he put his left leg forward. All the guys sat quietly and looked at Mishka. And he removed his left leg and put out his right. Then he suddenly began to clear his throat:
- Ahem! Ahem!.. Ahem!..
I said:
- Are you choking, Mishka?
He looked at me as if I were a stranger. Then he looked up at the ceiling and said:
Years will pass, old age will come!
Wrinkles will appear on your face!
I wish you creative success!
And Mishka bowed and climbed off the stage. And everyone clapped for him, because, firstly, the poems were very good, and secondly, just think: Mishka composed them himself! Just great!
And then Lucy came out again and announced:
– Valery Tagilov, first grade “B”, speaking!
Everyone clapped even harder again, and Lucy put her chair right in the middle. And then our Valerka came out with his small accordion and sat down on a chair, and put the suitcase from the accordion under his feet so that they would not dangle in the air. He sat down and started playing the waltz “Amur Waves”. And everyone listened, and I also listened and kept thinking: “How is Valerka moving her fingers so quickly?” And I also began to move my fingers through the air so quickly, but I could not keep up with Valerka. And on the side, against the wall, stood Valerka’s grandmother, she little by little conducted while Valerka played. And he played well, loudly, I really liked it. But suddenly he got lost in one place. His fingers stopped. Valerka blushed a little, but again moved his fingers, as if he was letting them run away; but the fingers reached some place and stopped again, well, they just seemed to stumble. Valerka became completely red and began to run away again, but now his fingers ran somehow fearfully, as if they knew that they would stumble again anyway, and I was ready to burst with anger, but at that time in the very place where Valerka stumbled twice, his grandmother suddenly craned her neck, leaned forward and sang:
...The waves are turning silver,
The waves are silver...
And Valerka immediately picked it up, and his fingers seemed to jump over some uncomfortable step and ran further, further, quickly and deftly to the very end. They really clapped for him!
After that, six girls from the first “A” and six boys from the first “B” jumped onto the stage. The girls had colorful ribbons in their hair, but the boys had nothing. They began to dance the Ukrainian hopak. Then Boris Sergeevich hit the keys hard and stopped playing.
And the boys and girls were still stomping around the stage by themselves, without music, whatever, and it was very fun, and I was about to climb onto the stage with them, too, but they suddenly ran away. Lucy came out and said:
- Break for fifteen minutes. After the break, fourth grade students will perform a play that they composed as a group, called “A dog’s death for a dog.”
And everyone moved their chairs and went in all directions, and I pulled my apple out of my pocket and began to gnaw on it.
And our October counselor Lyusya stood right there, next to us.
Suddenly a rather tall red-haired girl ran up to her and said:
– Lucy, can you imagine – Egorov didn’t show up!
Lucy clasped her hands:
- Can't be! What to do? Who will call and shoot?
The girl said:
“We need to immediately find some smart guy, we’ll teach him what to do.”
Then Lucy began to look around and noticed that I was standing and gnawing on an apple. She was immediately happy.
“Here,” she said. - Deniska! What's better! He will help us! Deniska, come here!
I came closer to them. The red-haired girl looked at me and said:
- Is he really smart?
Lucy says:
- Yes, I think so!
And the red-haired girl says:
– But you can’t tell at first glance.
I said:
– You can calm down! I'm smart.
Then she and Lyusya laughed, and the red-haired girl dragged me onto the stage.
There stood a boy from the fourth grade, he was in a black suit, and his hair was covered with chalk, as if he was gray; he was holding a pistol in his hands, and next to him stood another boy, also from the fourth grade. This boy had a glued beard, blue glasses perched on his nose, and he was wearing an oilskin raincoat with a turned up collar.
There were also boys and girls, some with a briefcase in their hands, some with something, and one girl in a headscarf, robe and with a broom.
When I saw a boy in a black suit with a gun, I immediately asked him:
– Is this real?
But the red-haired girl interrupted me.
- Listen, Deniska! - she said. – You will help us. Stand here to the side and look at the stage. When this boy says: “You won’t get this from me, citizen Gadyukin!” -Ring this bell right away. Understood?
And she handed me a bicycle bell. I took it.
The girl said:
– You will call as if it were a telephone, and this boy will pick up the phone, talk on the phone and leave the stage. And you stand and be silent. Understood?
I said:
– I understand, I understand... What is there not to understand? Does he have a real gun? Parabellum or what?
- Wait a minute with your gun... Exactly, it’s not real! Listen: you will shoot here, behind the stage. When this one with a beard is left alone, he grabs a folder from the table and rushes to the window, and this boy in a black suit takes aim at him, then you take this board and hit the chair as hard as you can. Just like that, only much stronger!
And the red-haired girl hit the chair with a board. It turned out very cool, like a real shot. I like it.
- Great! - I said, - And then?
“That’s all,” said the girl. – If you understand, repeat it!
I repeated everything. Word by word. She said:
- Make sure you don’t let me down!
- You can calm down. I won't let you down.
And then our school bell rang, as if for lessons.
I put the bicycle bell on the heating, leaned the board against the chair, and began to look through the crack in the curtain. I saw how Raisa Ivanovna and Lyusya arrived, and how the guys sat down, and how the grandmothers again stood at the walls, and behind someone’s dad perched himself on a stool and began pointing the camera at the stage. It was very interesting to look there from here, much more interesting than from there to here. Gradually everyone began to calm down, and the girl who brought me ran to the other side of the stage and pulled the rope. And the curtain opened, and this girl jumped into the hall. And on the stage there was a table, and behind it sat a boy in a black suit, and I knew that he had a gun in his pocket. And opposite this boy walked a boy with a beard. He first said that he had lived abroad for a long time, and now he had come again, and then began pestering him in a boring voice and asking the boy in a black suit to show him the plan of the airfield.
But he said:
Then I immediately remembered the call and extended my hand to the heating. But there was no call. I thought he had fallen to the floor and leaned over to look. But he was not on the floor either. I was even completely stunned. Then I looked at the stage. It was quiet there. But then the boy in the black suit thought and said again:
“You won’t get this from me, citizen Gadyukin!”
I just didn't know what to do. Where's the call? He was just here! He couldn't just jump away like a frog! Maybe it rolled down behind the battery? I squatted down and began to rummage through the dust behind the battery. There was no call! No!.. Good people, what should we do?!
And on stage, a bearded boy began to break his fingers and shout:
– I’m begging you for the fifth time! Show me the airfield plan!
And the boy in a black suit turned his face to me and shouted in a terrible voice:
“You won’t get this from me, citizen Gadyukin!”
And he shook his fist at me. And the bearded man also shook his fist at me. They both threatened me!
I thought they would kill me. But there was no call! There was no call! He's lost!
Then the boy in a black suit grabbed his hair and said, looking at me with a pleading expression on his face:
- The phone will probably ring now! You'll see, the phone will ring now! He'll call now!
And then it dawned on me. I stuck my head out on stage and quickly said:
– Ding-ding-ding!
And everyone in the hall laughed terribly. But the boy in the black suit was very happy and immediately grabbed the phone. He said cheerfully:
- I'm hearing you! – and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
- They're calling me. I'll arrive in a few minutes.
And he left the stage. And stood on the other side. And then the boy with the beard went on tiptoe to his table and began rummaging around there and looking around all the time. Then he laughed maliciously, grabbed some kind of folder and ran to the back wall, on which there was a cardboard window. Then another boy ran out and started aiming a pistol at him. I immediately grabbed the board and fucked the chair with all my might. And some unknown cat was sitting on a chair. She screamed wildly because I hit her on the tail. There was no shot, but the cat galloped onto the stage. And the boy in a black suit rushed at the bearded man and began to choke him. The cat ran between them. While the boys were struggling, the bearded man's beard fell off. The cat decided that it was a mouse, grabbed it and ran away. And as soon as the boy saw that he was left without a beard, he immediately lay down on the floor - as if he had died. Then the rest of the guys from the fourth grade came running onto the stage, some with a briefcase, some with a broom, they all began to ask:
-Who shot? What kind of shots?
But no one shot. The cat just turned up and interfered with everything. But the boy in the black suit said:
- It was I who killed the spy Gadyukin!
And then the red-haired girl closed the curtain. And everyone in the hall clapped so hard that it gave me a headache. I quickly went down to the locker room, got dressed and ran home. And when I was running, something kept stopping me. I stopped, reached into my pocket and pulled out... a bicycle bell!
When I was little, I was given a tricycle. And I learned to ride it. I immediately sat down and rode off, not at all afraid, as if I had been riding bicycles all my life.
Mom said:
- Look how capable he is of sports.
And dad said:
- He sits rather monkeyishly...
And I learned how to ride and pretty soon began to do different things on a bicycle, like funny performers in a circus. For example, I rode backwards or lying on the saddle and turning the pedals with whatever hand I wanted - you want it with your right hand, you want it with your left hand:
rode sideways, legs splayed;
I drove while sitting on the steering wheel, sometimes with my eyes closed and no hands;
drove with a glass of water in hand. In a word, I got the hang of it in every way.
And then Uncle Zhenya turned off one wheel of my bicycle, and it became two-wheeled, and again I learned everything very quickly. And the guys in the yard began to call me “the champion of the world and its environs.”
And so I rode my bike until my knees began to rise higher than the handlebars while riding. Then I realized that I had already grown out of this bicycle, and began to think when dad would buy me a real “Schoolboy” car.
And then one day a bicycle drives into our yard. And the guy who sits on it doesn’t swing his legs, but the bicycle rattles under him like a dragonfly and moves on its own. I was terribly surprised. I've never seen a bike move on its own. A motorcycle is another matter, a car is another matter, a rocket is clear, but what about a bicycle? Myself?
I just couldn’t believe my eyes.
And this guy on a bicycle rode up to Mishka’s front door and stopped. And he turned out to be not an uncle at all, but a young guy. Then he put the bike near the pipe and left. And I was left there with my mouth open. Suddenly Mishka comes out.
He says:
- Well? What are you staring at?
I speak:
- He’s going on his own, understand?
Mishka says:
- This is our nephew Fedka’s car. Bicycle with motor. Fedka came to us on business - to drink tea.
I'm asking:
— Is it difficult to drive such a car?
“Nonsense about vegetable oil,” says Mishka. — It starts with half a turn. You press the pedal once, and you're done - you can go. And there is gasoline in it for a hundred kilometers. And the speed is twenty kilometers in half an hour.
- Wow! Wow! - I say. - This is a car! Would love to ride one like this!
Here Mishka shook his head:
- It will fly in. Fedka will kill. The head will be torn off!
- Yes. Dangerous, I say.
But Mishka looked around and suddenly declared:
“There’s no one in the yard, but you’re still a “world champion.” Sit down! I'll help you accelerate the car, and you push the pedal once, and everything will go like clockwork. You drive two or three circles around the kindergarten, and we will quietly put the car in place. Fedka drinks tea with us for a long time. Three glasses are blowing. Let's!
- Let's! - I said.
And Mishka began to hold the bicycle, and I perched on it. One foot actually reached the very tip of the pedal, but the other hung in the air like noodles. I pushed myself away from the pipe with this pasta, and Mishka ran next to me and shouted:
- Press the pedal, press it!
I tried, I slid a little sideways from the saddle and as soon as I pressed the pedal. The bear clicked something on the steering wheel... And suddenly the car began to crackle, and I drove off!
I'm off! Myself! I don’t press the pedals - I don’t reach them, I just drive, maintaining my balance!
It was wonderful! The wind whistled in my ears, everything around me flew quickly, quickly in a circle: a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again the column, and all over again, and I was driving, clutching the steering wheel, and Mishka kept running after me, but on the third lap he shouted:
- I'm tired! - and leaned against the post.
And I went alone, and I had a lot of fun, and I kept driving and imagining that I was participating in a motorcycle race along a steep wall. I saw a brave artist rushing like that in the cultural park...
And the post, and Mishka, and the swing, and the house management - everything flashed before me for quite a long time, and everything was very good, only my leg, which was hanging like a spaghetti, began to tingle a little... And I also suddenly felt somehow uneasy on my own, and my palms immediately became wet, and I really wanted to stop.
I got to Mishka and shouted:
- Enough! Stop it!
The bear ran after me and shouted:
- What? Speak louder!
-Are you deaf?
But Mishka has already fallen behind. Then I drove another circle and shouted:
- Stop the car, Mishka!
Then he grabbed the steering wheel, the car shook, he fell, and I drove on again.
I look, he meets me again at the post and yells:
- Brake! Brake!
I rushed past him and began to look for this brake. But I didn’t know where he was! I started turning different screws and pressing something on the steering wheel. Where there! No point. The car is crackling as if nothing had happened, and thousands of needles are already digging into my pasta leg!
- Bear, where is this brake? And he:
- I forgot!
- Remember!
- Okay, I’ll remember, just spin around a little more!
- Remember quickly, Mishka! - I scream again.
- I can’t remember! You better try jumping!
- I'm sick!
If I had known that this would happen, I would never have started riding, it’s better to walk, honestly!
And here again Mishka shouts ahead:
- We need to get the mattress they sleep on! So that you crash into him and stop! What are you sleeping on?
- On a cot!
- Then drive until the gas runs out!
I almost ran him over for this. “Until the gas runs out”... This may be another two weeks of running around the kindergarten like this, and we have tickets to the puppet theater for Tuesday. And it stings my leg! I shout to this fool:
- Run for your Fedka!
- He's drinking tea! - Mishka shouts.
- Then he’ll finish his drink! - I yell.
But he didn’t hear enough and agrees with me:
- He will kill! Will definitely kill!
And again everything started spinning in front of me: the post, the gate, the bench, the swing, the house management. Then it was the other way around: house management, swing, bench, post, and then it went mixed up: house, post management, mushroom... And I realized that things were bad.
But at that time someone grabbed the car tightly, it stopped rattling, and they slapped me quite hard on the back of the head. I realized that it was Mishkin Fedka who finally drank some tea. And I immediately started running, but no
I could because the pasta leg stabbed into me like a dagger. But I still didn’t get confused and galloped away from Fedka on one leg. And he didn’t bother to catch up with me.
And I wasn’t angry with him for slapping him on the head. Because without him, I would probably still be circling the yard.
Issues for discussion
What is V. Dragunsky’s story “Motorcycle Racing on a Sheer Wall” about? Why was the hero of the story called “the champion of the world and its environs”? How does the author describe the hero's ride on a motorized bicycle after the third lap? Why does the hero of the story say the following words: “gribeechka”, “drink”? Why didn’t he get angry with Fedka for slapping him on the head?
When I was little, I was given a tricycle. And I learned to ride it. I immediately sat down and rode off, not at all afraid, as if I had been riding bicycles all my life.
Mom said:
- Look how capable he is of sports.
And dad said:
- He sits rather monkeyishly...
And I learned how to ride and pretty soon began to do various things on a bicycle, like funny performers in a circus. For example, I rode backwards or lying on the saddle and turning the pedals with whatever hand I wanted - you want it with your right hand, you want it with your left hand;
rode sideways, legs splayed;
I drove while sitting on the steering wheel, sometimes with my eyes closed and no hands;
drove with a glass of water in hand. In a word, I got the hang of it in every way.
And then Uncle Zhenya turned off one wheel of my bicycle, and it became two-wheeled, and again I learned everything very quickly. And the guys in the yard began to call me “the champion of the world and its environs.”
And so I rode my bike until my knees began to rise higher than the handlebars while riding. Then I realized that I had already grown out of this bicycle, and began to think when dad would buy me a real “Schoolboy” car.
And then one day a bicycle drives into our yard. And the guy who sits on it doesn’t swing his legs, but the bicycle rattles under him like a dragonfly and moves on its own. I was terribly surprised. I've never seen a bike move on its own. A motorcycle is another matter, a car is another matter, a rocket is clear, but what about a bicycle? Myself?
I just couldn’t believe my eyes.
And this guy on a bicycle rode up to Mishka’s front door and stopped. And he turned out to be not an uncle at all, but a young guy. Then he put the bike near the pipe and left. And I was left there with my mouth open. Suddenly Mishka comes out.
He says:
- Well? What are you staring at?
I speak:
- He’s going on his own, understand?
Mishka says:
- This is our nephew Fedka’s car. Bicycle with motor. Fedka came to us on business - to drink tea.
I'm asking:
- Is it difficult to drive such a car?
“It’s nonsense about vegetable oil,” says Mishka. - It starts with half a turn. You press the pedal once, and you're done - you can go. And there is gasoline in it for a hundred kilometers. And the speed is twenty kilometers in half an hour.
- Wow! Wow! - I say. - This is a car! Would love to ride one like this!
Here Mishka shook his head:
- It will fly in. Fedka will kill. The head will be torn off!
- Yes. Dangerous, I say. 
But Mishka looked around and suddenly declared:
- There is no one in the yard, but you are still a “world champion.” Sit down! I'll help you accelerate the car, and you push the pedal once, and everything will go like clockwork. You drive two or three circles around the kindergarten, and we will quietly put the car in place. Fedka drinks tea with us for a long time. Three glasses are blowing. Let's!
- Let's! - I said.
And Mishka began to hold the bicycle, and I perched on it. One foot actually reached the very tip of the pedal, but the other hung in the air like noodles. I pushed myself away from the pipe with this pasta, and Mishka ran next to me and shouted:
- Press the pedal, press it!
I tried, I slid a little sideways from the saddle and as soon as I pressed the pedal. The bear clicked something on the steering wheel... And suddenly the car began to crackle, and I drove off!
I'm off! Myself! I don’t press the pedals - I don’t reach them, I just drive, I keep my balance!
It was wonderful! The wind whistled in my ears, everything around me flew quickly, quickly in a circle: a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again a column, and all over again, and I was driving, clutching the steering wheel, and Mishka kept running after me, but on the third lap he shouted:
I'm tired! - and leaned against the post.
And I went alone, and I had a lot of fun, and I kept driving and imagining that I was participating in a motorcycle race along a steep wall. I saw a brave artist rushing like that in a cultural park... And the pole, and the Bear, and the swing, and the house management - everything flashed before me for quite a long time, and everything was very good, only my leg, which was hanging like a spaghetti, began to tingle a little... And I suddenly felt somehow uneasy, and my palms immediately became wet, and I really wanted to stop.
I got to Mishka and shouted:
- Enough! Stop it!
The bear ran after me and shouted:
- What? Speak louder!
I shout:
-Are you deaf, or what?
But Mishka has already fallen behind. Then I drove another circle and shouted:
- Stop the car, Mishka!
Then he grabbed the steering wheel, the car shook, he fell, and I drove on again. I look, he meets me again at the post and yells:
- Brake! Brake!
I rushed past him and began to look for this brake. But I didn’t know where he was! I started turning different screws and pressing something on the steering wheel. Where there! No point. The car is crackling as if nothing had happened, and thousands of needles are already digging into my pasta leg!
I shout:
- Bear, where is this brake?
And he:
- I forgot!
And I:
- Remember!
- Okay, I’ll remember, just spin around a little more!
- Hurry up and remember, Mishka! - I scream again.
And I drove on, and I felt that I was no longer at ease, somehow sick. And on the next circle Mishka shouts again:
- I can’t remember! You better try jumping!
And I told him: “I’m sick!”
If I had known that this would happen, I would never have started riding, it’s better to walk, honestly!
And here again Mishka shouts ahead:
We need to get the mattress they sleep on! So that you crash into him and stop! What are you sleeping on?
I shout:
- On a cot!
And Mishka:
- Then drive until the gas runs out!
I almost ran him over for this. “Until the gas runs out”... This may be another two weeks of running around the kindergarten like this, and we have tickets to the puppet theater for Tuesday. And it stings my leg! I shout to this fool:
- Run for your Fedka!
- He's drinking tea! - Mishka shouts.
- Then he’ll finish his drink! - I yell.
But he didn’t hear enough and agrees with me:
- He will kill! Will definitely kill!
And again everything started spinning in front of me: the post, the gate, the bench, the swing, the house management. Then it was the other way around: house management, swing, bench, post, and then it went mixed up: house, post management, mushroom... And I realized that things were bad.
But at that time someone grabbed the car tightly, it stopped rattling, and they slapped me quite hard on the back of the head. I realized that it was Mishkin Fedka who finally drank some tea. And I immediately started to run, but I couldn’t, because the pasta leg stabbed into me like a dagger. But I still didn’t lose my head and galloped away from Fedka on one leg.
And he didn’t bother to catch up with me.
And I wasn’t angry with him for slapping him on the head. Because without him, I would probably still be circling the yard.
Good afternoon, dear guys! Hello, dear parents!
We are pleased to welcome you again to our website “Family and Faith”!
For today's interesting reading and listening, we offer you an entertaining story by Viktor Dragunsky, which is called “Motorcycle racing along a sheer wall.”
E When I was little, I was given a tricycle. And I learned to ride it. I immediately sat down and rode off, not at all afraid, as if I had been riding bicycles all my life.
Mom said:
Look how good he is at sports.
And dad said:
Sits rather monkeyishly...
And I learned how to ride and pretty soon began to do various things on a bicycle, like funny performers in a circus. For example, I rode backwards or lying on the saddle and turning the pedals with whatever hand I wanted - you want it with your right hand, you want it with your left hand;
rode sideways, legs splayed;
I drove while sitting on the steering wheel, sometimes with my eyes closed and no hands;
drove with a glass of water in hand. In a word, I got the hang of it in every way.
And then Uncle Zhenya turned off one wheel of my bicycle, and it became two-wheeled, and again I learned everything very quickly. And the guys in the yard began to call me “the champion of the world and its environs.”
And so I rode my bike until my knees began to rise higher than the handlebars while riding. Then I realized that I had already grown out of this bicycle, and began to think when dad would buy me a real “Schoolboy” car.
And then one day a bicycle drives into our yard. And the guy who sits on it doesn’t swing his legs, but the bicycle rattles under him like a dragonfly and moves on its own. I was terribly surprised. I've never seen a bike move on its own. A motorcycle is another matter, a car is another matter, a rocket is clear, but what about a bicycle? Myself?
I just couldn’t believe my eyes.
And this guy on a bicycle rode up to Mishka’s front door and stopped. And he turned out to be not an uncle at all, but a young guy. Then he put the bike near the pipe and left. And I was left there with my mouth open. Suddenly Mishka comes out.
He says:
Well? What are you staring at?
I speak:
He’s going on his own, understand?
Mishka says:
This is our nephew Fedka's car. Bicycle with motor. Fedka came to us on business - to drink tea.
I'm asking:
Is it difficult to drive such a car?
Nonsense on vegetable oil, says Mishka. - It starts with half a turn. You press the pedal once, and you're done - you can go. And there is gasoline in it for a hundred kilometers. And the speed is twenty kilometers in half an hour.
Wow! Wow! - I say. - This is a car! Would love to ride one like this!
Here Mishka shook his head:
It will fly in. Fedka will kill. The head will be torn off!
Yes. Dangerous, I say.
But Mishka looked around and suddenly declared:
There is no one in the yard, but you are still a “world champion.” Sit down! I'll help you accelerate the car, and you push the pedal once, and everything will go like clockwork. You drive two or three circles around the kindergarten, and we will quietly put the car in place. Fedka drinks tea with us for a long time. Three glasses are blowing. Let's!
Let's! - I said.
And Mishka began to hold the bicycle, and I perched on it. One foot actually reached the very tip of the pedal, but the other hung in the air like noodles. I pushed myself away from the pipe with this pasta, and Mishka ran next to me and shouted:
Press the pedal, press it!
I tried, I slid a little sideways from the saddle and as soon as I pressed the pedal. The bear clicked something on the steering wheel... And suddenly the car began to crackle, and I drove off!
I'm off! Myself! I don’t press the pedals - I don’t reach them, I just drive, I keep my balance!
It was wonderful! The wind whistled in my ears, everything around me flew quickly, quickly in a circle: a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again a column, and all over again, and I was driving, clutching the steering wheel, and Mishka kept running after me, but on the third lap he shouted:
I'm tired! - and leaned against the post.
And I went alone, and I had a lot of fun, and I kept driving and imagining that I was participating in a motorcycle race along a steep wall. I saw a brave artist rushing like that in the cultural park...
And the post, and Mishka, and the swing, and the house management - everything flashed before me for quite a long time, and everything was very good, only my leg, which was hanging like a spaghetti, began to tingle a little... And I also suddenly felt somehow uneasy , and my palms immediately became wet, and I really wanted to stop.
I got to Mishka and shouted:
Enough! Stop it!
The bear ran after me and shouted:
What? Speak louder!
Are you deaf or what?
But Mishka has already fallen behind. Then I drove another circle and shouted:
Stop the car, Bear!
Then he grabbed the steering wheel, the car shook, he fell, and I drove on again. I look, he meets me again at the post and yells:
Brake! Brake!
I rushed past him and began to look for this brake. But I didn’t know where he was! I started turning different screws and pressing something on the steering wheel. Where there! No point. The car is crackling as if nothing had happened, and thousands of needles are already digging into my pasta leg!
Bear, where is this brake?
I forgot!
Remember!
Okay, I’ll remember, just spin around a little more!
Remember quickly, Mishka! - I scream again.
I can't remember! You better try jumping!
I'm sick!
If I had known that this would happen, I would never have started riding, it’s better to walk, honestly!
And here again Mishka shouts ahead:
We need to get the mattress they sleep on! So that you crash into him and stop! What are you sleeping on?
On a folding bed!
Then drive until the gas runs out!
I almost ran him over for this. “Until the gas runs out”... This may be another two weeks of running around the kindergarten like this, and we have tickets to the puppet theater for Tuesday. And it stings my leg! I shout to this fool:
Run for your Fedka!
He's drinking tea! - Mishka shouts.
Then he’ll finish his drink! - I yell.
But he didn’t hear enough and agrees with me:
Will kill! Will definitely kill!
And again everything started spinning in front of me: the post, the gate, the bench, the swing, the house management. Then it was the other way around: house management, swing, bench, post, and then it went mixed up: house, post management, mushroom... And I realized that things were bad.
But at that time someone grabbed the car tightly, it stopped rattling, and they slapped me quite hard on the back of the head. I realized that it was Mishkin Fedka who finally drank some tea. And I immediately started to run, but I couldn’t, because the pasta leg stabbed into me like a dagger. But I still didn’t lose my head and galloped away from Fedka on one leg.
And he didn’t bother to catch up with me.
And I wasn’t angry with him for slapping him on the head. Because without him, I would probably still be circling the yard.
When I was little, I was given a tricycle. And I learned to ride it. I immediately sat down and rode off, not at all afraid, as if I had been riding bicycles all my life.
Mom said:
- Look how capable he is of sports.
And dad said:
- He sits rather monkeyishly...
And I learned how to ride and pretty soon began to do various things on a bicycle, like funny performers in a circus. For example, I rode backwards or lying on the saddle and turning the pedals with whatever hand I wanted - you want it with your right hand, you want it with your left hand; rode sideways, legs splayed; I drove while sitting on the steering wheel, sometimes with my eyes closed and no hands; drove with a glass of water in hand. In a word, I got the hang of it in every way.
And then Uncle Zhenya turned off one wheel of my bicycle, and it became two-wheeled, and again I learned everything very quickly. And the guys in the yard began to call me “the champion of the world and its environs.”
And so I rode my bike until my knees began to rise higher than the handlebars while riding. Then I realized that I had already grown out of this bicycle, and began to think when dad would buy me a real “Schoolboy” car.
And then one day a bicycle drives into our yard. And the guy who sits on it doesn’t swing his legs, but the bicycle rattles under him like a dragonfly and moves on its own. I was terribly surprised. I've never seen a bike move on its own. A motorcycle is another matter, a car is another matter, a rocket is clear, but what about a bicycle? Myself?
I just couldn’t believe my eyes.
And this guy on a bicycle rode up to Mishka’s front door and stopped. And he turned out to be not an uncle at all, but a young guy. Then he put the bike near the pipe and left. And I was left there with my mouth open. Suddenly Mishka comes out.
He says:
- Well? What are you staring at?
I speak:
- He’s going on his own, understand?
Mishka says:
– This is our nephew Fedka’s car. Bicycle with motor. Fedka came to us on business - to drink tea.
I'm asking:
– Is it difficult to drive such a car?
“Nonsense about vegetable oil,” says Mishka. – It starts with half a turn. You press the pedal once, and you're done - you can go. And there is gasoline in it for a hundred kilometers. And the speed is twenty kilometers in half an hour.
- Wow! Wow! - I say. - This is a car! Would love to ride one like this!
Here Mishka shook his head:
- It will fly in. Fedka will kill. The head will be torn off!
- Yes. Dangerous, I say.
But Mishka looked around and suddenly declared:
“There’s no one in the yard, but you’re still a “world champion.” Sit down! I'll help you accelerate the car, and you push the pedal once, and everything will go like clockwork. You drive two or three circles around the kindergarten, and we will quietly put the car in place. Fedka drinks tea with us for a long time. Three glasses are blowing. Let's!
- Let's! - I said.
And Mishka began to hold the bicycle, and I perched on it. One foot actually reached the very tip of the pedal, but the other hung in the air like noodles. I pushed myself away from the pipe with this pasta, and Mishka ran next to me and shouted:
- Press the pedal, press it!
I tried, I slid a little sideways from the saddle and as soon as I pressed the pedal. The bear clicked something on the steering wheel... And suddenly the car began to crackle, and I drove off!
I'm off! Myself! I don’t press the pedals - I don’t reach them, I just drive, I keep my balance!
It was wonderful! The wind whistled in my ears, everything around me flew quickly, quickly in a circle: a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again a post, a gate, a bench, mushrooms from the rain, a sandbox, a swing, a house management, and again a column, and all over again, and I was driving, clutching the steering wheel, and Mishka kept running after me, but on the third lap he shouted:
- I'm tired! – and leaned against the post.
And I went alone, and I had a lot of fun, and I kept driving and imagining that I was participating in a motorcycle race along a steep wall. I saw a brave artist rushing like that in the cultural park...
And the post, and Mishka, and the swing, and the house management - everything flashed before me for quite a long time, and everything was very good, only my leg, which was hanging like a spaghetti, began to tingle a little... And I also suddenly felt somehow uneasy , and my palms immediately became wet, and I really wanted to stop.
I got to Mishka and shouted:
- Enough! Stop it!
The bear ran after me and shouted:
- What? Speak louder!
-Are you deaf, or what?
But Mishka has already fallen behind. Then I drove another circle and shouted:
- Stop the car, Mishka!
Then he grabbed the steering wheel, the car shook, he fell, and I drove on again. I look, he meets me again at the post and yells:
- Brake! Brake!
I rushed past him and began to look for this brake. But I didn’t know where he was! I started turning different screws and pressing something on the steering wheel. Where there! No point. The car is crackling as if nothing had happened, and thousands of needles are already digging into my pasta leg!
- Bear, where is this brake?
- I forgot!
- Remember!
- Okay, I’ll remember, just spin around a little more!
- Quickly remember, Mishka! - I scream again.
- I can’t remember! You better try jumping!
- I'm sick!
If I had known that this would happen, I would never have started riding, it’s better to walk, honestly!
And here again Mishka shouts ahead:
- We need to get the mattress they sleep on! So that you crash into him and stop! What are you sleeping on?
- On a cot!
- Then drive until the gas runs out!
I almost ran him over for this. “Until the gas runs out”... This may be another two weeks of running around the kindergarten like this, and we have tickets to the puppet theater for Tuesday. And it stings my leg! I shout to this fool:
- Run for your Fedka!
- He's drinking tea! - Mishka shouts.
- Then he’ll finish his drink! - I yell.
But he didn’t hear enough and agrees with me:
- He will kill! Will definitely kill!
And again everything started spinning in front of me: the post, the gate, the bench, the swing, the house management. Then it was the other way around: house management, swing, bench, post, and then it went mixed up: house, post management, mushroom... And I realized that things were bad.
But at that time someone grabbed the car tightly, it stopped rattling, and they slapped me quite hard on the back of the head. I realized that it was Mishkin Fedka who finally drank some tea. And I immediately started to run, but I couldn’t, because the pasta leg stabbed into me like a dagger. But I still didn’t lose my head and galloped away from Fedka on one leg.
And he didn’t bother to catch up with me.
And I wasn’t angry with him for slapping him on the head. Because without him, I would probably still be circling the yard.
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