When I was in the first class, I still dared to go with the older guys on a serious "affair". There was a 30th prison near us.
The “affair” was to throw zecks through seven fences, tea or cigarettes. In response, they threw various boys’ treasures: a plastic watch bracelet with roses inside, a pen with a aunt, an organ glass ring with a skull, and other luxuries of this kind. Sometimes the boys stumbled on the police seats, they were caught, to their parents to work, registered and all in the same spirit. I was scared, but I decided. Gold is deceiving us.
The technology of throwing tea for 100 meters is not complicated: you take my mother’s old shoe, put a pack of tea, hanging shoe, tie a knot, roll up like David and shoot. There are rabbits on the roof and waiting. In a minute, the reverse banderol flies.
They told me to drop first.
Here, I threw my cup onto the zone, my heart beats, I’d get back and run. My rocket flew back. I catch it, I feel something pleasant-heavy and... here’s like mint! We rushed overwhelmed.
When I ran into my yard and realized that I could not get away from the pursuit, I made my best, without looking, to wrap my package in the socks, where the eyes look.
I didn’t get enough, but I was a first class.
In the morning he went out into the yard and headed to the place where he had thrown his treasure yesterday. I stand next to a mighty castan and see, hanging my shirt wrapped on a branch. The height is five meters, but not to climb. The wind rose, the shovel trembled, as if it was about to roll out and fall. I waited an hour and a half. It does not fall. The boys went out into the yard, I didn’t want to reveal my secret on the tree. He left with a heavy heart. The next day, for half a day, he shot a socket from a cornet, even hit a couple of times, but hangs a puddle.
Everyday I wondered what could be there? close to the elbow, not to bite.
Over time, I started to go to the castan not every day... In fifth grade we moved into a new apartment. Many years have passed.
Last year, I came to the city of childhood, came to my old Lviv court. Castan is in place. I stood and looked at my unknown treasure and understood that I felt like the immortal bearer, looking at the barrel in which a duck, an egg, and so on.
The wind rose, the shovel trembled, as if it was about to roll out and fall, but I least wanted it to fall.