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                THE KITE
My friends – Mishka and Alyoshka are twins, carpenter’s Ivan sons, living at the very end of Nagornaya street. The brothers are almost indistinguishable in face and figure, but unlike most of the twins, trying to stress their likeness with the same clothes, Mishka and Alyoshka didn’t like, when people confused them. They did their best  to look different from each other. Each dressed in his own way, which was not easy in those times, but brothers managed it somehow. Both wore long cotton trousers, Mishka had black,  Alyoshka –dark blue. The shirts were also of different color, the twins dyed them themselves – one from the juice of the elder berries, the other – from the oak bark.  The shirts came out; one – violet, the other – brown. And only the faces were indistinguishable – a bit sharp, triangular, in the deep alveolar freckles. But here as well, Mishka, more wicked, found the way out – he shaved off his eyebrows, which gave his face the expression,  different from his brother’s.
Once, in the morning I came to the twins. They were on the veranda; sitting on the floor, they were tinkering something from the paper and wooden planks.
 –What are you doing? – I asked.
 –Don’t you see? – Mishka answered reservedly. – It is a kite.
I felt offended: brothers for some reason did the kite by secret from me, Till now I only heard about the kite.
– How do you know, how to do it?
– Know somehow, Mishka pronounced meaningfully.
– Father told, – Alyoshka explained. – He drew on the paper, how and what to do.
 There was on the floor rather a big, the yard length wooden plank rectangle, pasted with the thick paper. I was disappointed: the kite had no eyes even…
 –It is somewhat funny… does not even look…
Mishka was offended.
– Yourself are funny. All the kites are like that. This is its head. Just fasten the tail – and it would be possible to launch. It will fly at once. There is a wind every day now
– And where is the tail?
– The tail is no problem, we’ll cut it from the piece of the old sheet – mother gave. The main thing  – good quality thread. One can’t launch with the ordinary – it will be torn .The thread must be coarse, firm. But where to get it?
I fell to thinking – how to solve the matter? May be, my mother had coarse thread? Earlier, when father was alive, she was fond of needlework; there were many thread bobbins in the box, worsted rolls, all kinds of scraps, pieces of cloth. Till now I was not interested in it, but now, it is worth fumbling in the little basket.
I asked how much thread was necessary,
Mishka sighed.
– A lot, the whole hank. One can’t launch the kite with a thin thread.
– All right, I shall try to get it, – I said.  not quite certain, –look for it somewhere.
– Go, try, –Mishka said limply. I understood by his voice that he did not believe that I would find it. It really was almost a hopeless matter; there were no shops, on the market only products from the nearby villages were sold, true, there was a rag fair on Sundays;  Kuransk residents brought some quite unimaginable things: empty baguettes, brass door handles, keys without the locks and locks without the keys. Once I even saw the silk black corset. Hard, yellow, like bones, baleen plates tore the shabby cloth, miserably ridged, as if grinned.
On Sunday I went to the rag fair. The search in mother’s basket, surely, gave nothing.
I walked along the short row first on the right side, then, on the left. Of course, there was no coarse threads. The things, lying on the earth, were unheard of by their need. At that time I have not yet heard about the flea market in Paris, where one could acquire for the suitable price the iron spectacle frame, bald brush, holed umbrella and even old artificial teeth.
There were no such rarities at Kuransk rag fair, but there were glass beads, theatre eye glasses, many above mentioned empty baguettes and goods, sold mostly best – Journals “Niva” and “Rodina” of different issues. They were meant for smoking.
 Some goods were lying on the rags of different color. Here, as a rule, the buyers stopped. The owners of the goods knew: advertized goods, skillfully laid out – the formula of success.
It remained quite a little space to the end of the row, when I head the mumbled voice behind:
– Boy, what are you looking for?
Feeling vexed because of failure, I felt like answering rude – something, like “buying yesterday’s day’ or “urgent: buy bird’s milk”, but here I saw; short, little crippled old woman was asking; evil disease bent her to the ground; in order to see me she turned her head somehow up and aside.  Faded whitish eyes looked at me, there was such kindness in them, that I couldn’t answer with cockiness and mumbled:      – Looking for the coarse thread.
– Probably, for the bow or fishing rod? – The old woman seemed to understand something.
– No, for the kite.
– I see – for the kite… – The old woman didn’t laugh at me, no, she fell to thinking, looked at the ground. – For the kite you will need much…
– Yes, the whole hank… –I looked at the miserable ‘goods’ of the old woman. It was, like those of her neighbors.
– And when do you need it?
– As soon as possible – till there is wind and still dry, when it rains –– then it will be useless: it would be necessary to wait till spring.
–   It is true: it will rain after Pokrov, all indicates to the rainy autumn. We shouldn’t wait for the India summer, The old woman again tried to see me. –Where do you live?
  I said.
– In Nagornaya? So we are almost neighbors: – I am from Usovskaya. Come in the evening, ask for Akimovna – the one with the goats, each will show. There will be coarse threads for you.
I could hardly wait till evening. After the sunset I went to Usovskaya and at once found her house. It was a dilapidated, almost grown into the earth hack, crooked, with the high faded quinoa on the straw roof, but two small windows were very clean, light from the sunset. Akimovna was to live just in such a hack. Three tied goats were walking in the yard, breadwinners of the hostess and her daughter, the elderly widow.
 Akimovna was waiting for me, she began to speak about our family.
– I know the Chumakovs, I still remember your grandfather, he came to Kuransk before the beginning of the war with Japan, earlier taught the children in Senkov, then came to us to teach in the high primary school. I also saw your father, he used to come to his father for summer when studied in Charkov.
She brought from the house a big hank of coarse threads.
– Here is a present for you from granny Akimovna. The threads are good, firm, bought long ago. I don’t need them, wanted to sell, but met you.
– I didn’t dare to ask, how much they cost, understood that it would badly hurt Akimovna, mumbled in a low voice “thank you” and ran out into the street with the priceless hank.
I entered the twins’ house without hurrying. The brothers hardly looked at me. With stern Mishka’s tap hole both of them took me long for the one, badly capable for life .Now the twins were immersed into deep sorrow: the kite, quite ready for the flight, was to remain lifeless for a long time.
 –Well, and how is the kite?
– And what? Do you wish to receive the ready work? In Mishka’s voice there was bitter mockery. Do, receive, may be, will reject it…
– Yes, one should do it thoroughly, – I said impertinently, – the sky is not the earth.
– First raise it to the sky, – Alyohka noted irritably.
 Mishka kept contemptuous silence.
– To raise it no problem, – I tried to speak calmly, but saw by the brothers’ faces that it was impossible to play the time further.
– Have you got it? – the twins shouted simultaneously – do, show quickly.
Oh, how badly I wished to prolong that unique moment of my triumph! But any triumph, any joy are as rare, as they are short…
– Here it is! – I raised Akimovna’s present high above my head.
The brothers rushed to the hank. Now all the attention was directed only to I, I was immediately forgotten.
– How fine these threads are! – Mishka said rapturously. He wined off a yard, stretched it and gave the hank to brother: – try to rip it, at once will cut the palm. The iron threads!
We both tried to rip it, it was not easy – it was cut into the fingers and gave in only when we tried very hard.
Mishka at once tied the thread to the kite’s head. it was decided to launch it tomorrow morning.
Torturing sweet were these long hours of waiting!  Mentally you have already imagined the forthcoming happy event – the journey to fishing in the foggy dawn hour or the races at breakneck speed “ three crosses” on military horseback  throughout the whole Kuransk or, like now, launching the kits. Though no, this event was unlike the others, it was quite, quite different, exceptional – I have never launched the kite and even didn’t imagine how to do it.
I remember, as if it were going on now, that brisk, clear, almost spring cool day.  Steady, but rather a strong wind is blowing from the North. On the horizon there are strongly beaten up clouds with the dark-blue tinge.
 Immediately after breakfast I went to the twins. They had already had everything ready for launching.
The procession soon left the twins’ house. Mishka was walking in front. He solemnly carried the kite’s head on the stretched hands. Alyoshka and me followed him. I had in my hands the coarse threads hank, its short end was fastened to the kite’s head. Alyoshka was supporting the long cloth tail, like a train.
 We came out into the pasture, where soldier Petro fed the military horses with us in summer. Here the launching was to take place, away from the trees and telegraph poles.
He kite was gingerly laid on the ground in the middle of the pasture. I looked at it. Everything was ordinary about it. The twins didn’t find the clean paper and pasted the head from some written, although solid sheets of paper. The planks inside and at the sides were rough, planed with a kitchen knife. But the tail looked especially miserable – the length of cloth, cut uneven with festoons out of the old sheet. There were even 2 or 3 holes at the end of the tail.
 We examined the kite for the last time especially attentively.  Everything was in order.
 –Let us start, – Mishka said curtly. His triangular freckled face, seemed even to go pale with excitement.
 Only two people were needed to launch the kite. They were to be just the twins. Judging by the fact that I learned about the kite quite accidentally, it was possible to suppose that the brothers were not at all going to involve me into it. At best I had to be satisfied with the modest role of a spectator, no more, but Akimovna’s present violated the initial plan – so, Alyoshka had to be substituted by me. So that he shouldn’t be completely offended, brother entrusted him with the task of supporting the kite’s tail during launching – the thing is not responsible and, to tell the truth, not obligatory.
 –So, it is going to be like that, – Mishka began to explain once more, – you, Tolka, unwind about 5 fathoms and step aside from me. Alyoshka will keep the tail, seeing to it, that it shouldn’t get caught by something or entangled. I raise the kite and order: “Forward!”  And we all run. I launch the kite, and when it flies up, I take the hank from Tolka. I shall direct the flight myself, it is a difficult task.
Unwinding the thread, I felt, how strongly my heart beat.
- Get ready! – Mishka raised the kite high – Forward!
I rushed from the place. The kite tore itself from Mishka’s hands and began to gather the height smoothly. It moved with the wide circles, moved high boldly, as if drawing in the air the coils of the huge spiral. Now It was not like something awkward, glued from the written paper and rough planks. The long white tail was strongly waving behind, and the big head was raised upwards – the kite was striving up, into the high, spacious autumn sky, full of clouds and wind. Only now, in the flight, it became itself – huge, strong, bold, soaring above the clouds, like an eagle
Breathing hard with joy, I didn’t take off the eyes from the kite and even forgot that it was necessary all the time to unwind the thread. Mishka jumped up to me.
– Give me the threads! – He snatched the hank from me, began to unwind it. I touched the thread. It was stretched very hard.
– The wind is very strong, - Mishka said anxiously, – it may carry the kite away. Perhaps that’ll do for once. Let it have a rest. It is its first flight.
Mishka began slowly to pull the kite to the ground, but it wouldn’t like to go down – it tumbled shrewdly, dived in the air, again tried to rise into the sky, but the firm thread insistently pulled it down. Having made the last circle, the kite rounded the pasture and smoothly landed on the grass.
 We ran up to it. Even here, on the ground, its big quadrangular head was a bit jerking, trying to rise, and the long body was slightly trembling – the kite was looking forward to a new flight.
– Let’s launch once more, – Mishka decided, – now it is possible a little higher, it is already experienced
Mishka again raised the kite, I again unwounded the hank.
– Forward!
I ran, already not excited, joyful because of a new flight. And the kite soared high still bolder, still freer. I looked how assuredly it was leaving for the sky and slowly unwounded the hank, sending the kite higher and higher.
– Give me the threads! – Mishka pulled out the hand after the hank, but I removed him.
– No, now I want to lead it myself.
Mishka looked at me with amazement – he was not used to being contradicted.
 –Give me the threads. I say! – he repeated impatiently.
But I was silent and slowly unwounded the hank. Mishka looked at me with an angry surprise: – unbelievable – quiet, obedient, uncomplaining Tolka didn’t obey…But it was impossible to take the kite by force –dangerous! – it could tear away.
All right! – Mishka whispered  maliciously – Let it only land, I will speak with you differently.
It was not an empty threat – by bitter experience I knew: when Mishka got angry, it was no joke. It was not for nothing that he kept in iron hands  Alyoshka and myself. Nevertheless I didn’t give him the hank, moreover, I at once unwounded it for the whole fathom.
And the kite had already long reached the height, to which it rose some minutes ago. Now it rose still higher. I again touched the thread – it ringed, like a guitar string.
– If you let the kite go, know that won’t return home alive, – Mishka said loudly
I laughed in his face and again unwounded the thread. The kite jerked joyfully – obviously wanted to rise to the dense clouds, sent from the horizon by the north wind.
I quickly looked at the hank – it became smaller, thinner, but there were still enough threads for the kite to fly to the nearest cloud. The thread stretched to the utmost, trembled, the kite demanded powerfully  to let it go.
Mishka and Alyoshka forgot about me. Now the three of us didn’t take our eyes off the kite. And it was speeding the flight more and more. I was still seeing its head – it became small, like a match box, and seemed light against the background of the darkened, thunder cloud. We understood – the kite was eager to overtake the thunder cloud.  And finally it reached what it was looking forward to – entered it, merged with it. At the same moment the coarse thread burst with the ring, its end was carried up and disappeared. I looked at Mishka guiltily and frightfully. But he was still looking upwards, and it was seen bt his face that he was not angry with me.
– Gone… – he said sadly, – now it will fly there long – the wind won’t let it fall. They told us at school – up in the sky, the wind is blowing the whole year round, never gets quiet…
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