Slava Brodsky - Funny Children's Stories

Of course, everyone began to tell me what else I needed to find. I had to find two wooden boards, a round stick for the handle, a piece of tin sheet, several nails, and two short metal pipes that would fit into the bearings.

My friend Gleb Paramonov said that I would need a lot of tools but that I would have no chance of getting them. He said that I would need a hammer, a drill with drill bits, scissors to cut metal, and a knife.

And I told Gleb not to be a wise guy. Of course, it is very easy to nail things with a hammer. But a stone would work just as well. You can make any hole, using a nail and a small knife. Actually, a knife is what you really need. It is not really possible to do anything without it. Scissors to cut metal are not really necessary either. If you just keep bending the tin back and forth many times on the same spot, then it will break on its own.

It took me a couple of months to collect all the parts. But it only took me a few days to put the scooter together. But I did not like how the whole story with the scooter turned out. And here is why I did not like it.

It was no fun to ride alone. Therefore, everyone in our yard took turns riding my scooter. And everyone tried to go nearly all the way to the end of our street and then speeded downward. The scooter broke very often. And I was the only one repairing it.

But it was not because the one who broke it refused to repair it. Not at all. Usually everyone started to repair it with great enthusiasm. And always told me, “Don’t worry. We’ll have it fixed in no time.” But it always ended up that something stood in the way of finishing the repair. Either I or the one who was helping me with repairs needed to go home. Or else there were not enough nails. Or something else.

Finally, I gave my scooter to Gleb. And when I gave it to him, I said, “Gleb, take it and ride it whenever you want. And don’t worry about its wheel being broken – it’s nothing. I’ll help you right now, and we'll have it fixed in no time.”

American Stewed Meat

The war ended a long time ago, but adults still remember about it all the time. When they get together in our room, they immediately start remembering about how things were during the war. And they talk about the same things over and over again.

Actually, no one talks about the war itself. Everyone only remembers how they lived during the war. And no one talks about the war itself because there is no one around to talk about it: some were still too young and others were too old to be drafted. And in our room, I have never seen those whose age was just right for the draft.

Only my dad could tell how things were in the war. But he says nothing to our guests. Once when I asked him to tell me, he said that it was nothing like what they showed in the movies.

Dad told me that everyone was afraid that he might be killed. Everyone had a single thought: whether or not he would be killed. On the whole, it was really scary there.

When I asked Dad whether he was scared that he might be killed, he said that he too was really scared. But he said that everyone was scared in different ways. For example, once he was put in charge of safeguarding an officer of the command staff. And as they began to walk, the officer lay down on his stomach and crawled the whole way. And Dad said that he felt very embarrassed for this officer.

I remember asking my dad whether or not he killed anyone. And my dad said that once he had a chance to kill someone. In those days, no one could be certain which buildings were occupied by the Russians and which ones, by the Germans. And it just so happened that looking down through the window Dad spotted some Germans. They were very close to him. Dad grabbed his rifle. But it was full of sand, and Dad could not do anything with it. Then Dad grabbed another rifle, but it was also full of sand.

Once Dad told me that he dragged his wounded commander to the hospital. And as Dad was dragging him, he thought that the commander got shot again. But Dad was not sure about that.

When he finally brought his commander to the hospital, Dad was highly praised and was promised a medal. Because they gave out medals for things like that. But for some reason, he was not given that medal.

Mom says that Dad was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. She says that because we have never heard of anyone coming back from Stalingrad alive. But Dad did come back from Stalingrad. But later he was drafted again.

I once heard Mom telling our guests that before the very end of the war, letters from my dad stopped coming for a few months. Mom did not know what to think. It was already May of forty-five, and still there was nothing from my dad. On the eighth of May, our neighbor told Mom that the war was over. He was angry that the whole world knew about it but we did not. Mom did not know whether to believe him or not and went to sleep.

Early in the morning, she was awoken by three doorbell rings. Three rings meant that someone was coming to see us. Mom did not go to open the door because it was still very early in the morning. At such an early hour, it could only be the milkwoman, who sold us milk.

Then Mom heard that our neighbor went to open the door. And suddenly our neighbor yelled, “Oo-ooh!” And Mom said that at that moment, she understood everything and bolted out into the corridor. That was exactly what she said, “I bolted out into the corridor.” And it was my dad.

There is another story that Mom sometimes tells our guests. She tells about the time she went to the market to sell Dad’s coat.

She went to the market to sell Dad’s coat because there was nothing left for us to eat. It was the first time that my mom went to sell something. She was very nervous. Even though everyone was telling her not to worry, “Everyone does it. It’s not a big deal.”

And so Mom went to sell the coat. She was standing there for a long time, afraid to offer the coat to anyone. And she kept repeating to herself that she should be brave because everyone sold things and no one worried.

Then Mom saw a young man. This young man seemed very nice. So, Mom found the courage to approach this young man and said, “Sir, do you need a coat? I have one for sale.”

Here, this young man reached into his pocket and showed Mom his ID. When he did this, Mom’s knees began to shake and her vision became blurry. Even though she did not understand what kind of ID it was.

The young man asked Mom harshly where she got the coat. And Mom answered that the coat belonged to her husband and that her husband was at the front. The young man said that he was assigned to keep watch on the market in order to catch all bandits and crooks like my mom.

Then he asked my mom what she would tell her husband about his coat when he returns from the front. At this point, Mom could no longer stand it and began to cry. And as she cried, she told the young man that she would somehow figure things out with her husband herself. And the young man finally let my mom go.

Later, Mom was always surprised that just about everybody sold just about everything at the market. But for whatever reason, she was the only one who got caught. After that, she never went to the market to sell anything again.

As for the coat that Mom tried to sell, it hung in our closet unused for a long time. It was only recently that Mom took it out, unpicked and turned it, did something else, and made a very fashionable coat for herself. And everyone kept asking her where she found such good cloth.

Mom also told our guests that during the war she was given two pieces of rye bread per day. She ate one piece and kept the second piece for the next day. At this moment of her story, Mom always paused. Because she knew that someone would definitely ask her why she received two pieces of bread.