⏱ ~3 min reading
It was Timko's birthday. His grandmother gave him a red car - a real one, with open doors and a steering wheel that turned. His friend Oles came to Timko's house. They sat on the carpet in the living room and looked at the car as if it were something magical.
“Can I go first?” said Oles.
"This is my car," replied Tymko. "I'm the first.".
— But I'm a guest.
— And I'm the birthday boy.
They both grabbed the car—Oles on one side, Timko on the other. They each pulled it toward them. The red car groaned softly, as if complaining.
— Let go!
— Let go yourself!
The steering wheel slipped from under my fingers and rolled under the sofa. The door froze crookedly.
Tim's mother came in from the kitchen. She didn't say anything — she just sat down on a chair and looked at the boys calmly.
“What happened?” she asked quietly.
"Tymko won't give me the car," Oles said, not looking.
"Oles wants to take my car," said Timko, also without looking.
Mom was silent.
“Where is the steering wheel?” she asked.
Timko looked under the sofa. Oles did too. They both saw the steering wheel lying far away, amidst the dust and two old Legos.
The boys suddenly felt embarrassed.
"We broke it," whispered Tymko.
"Yeah," said Oles.
Mom stood up, took a poker from under the fireplace—one they used to stir coals with—and easily pulled out the steering wheel. It was intact. It had just been lost.
"You know," said Mom, "the car is still intact. But it could break. And worst of all, your friendship could break.".
The boys were silent.
— Look at each other.
They looked at each other. Oles saw Timko's lower lip tremble. Timko saw Oles' ears turn red.
"Tymka," said Oles, "I'm sorry. I wanted to be the first because I really liked the car. But it's yours.".
"Olesya," said Timko, "and you're sorry. I invited you. And then I got greedy.".
Mom smiled and went into the kitchen. The smell of fresh pancakes came from there.
The boys sat side by side for a minute. Then Timko took the car, adjusted the steering wheel, and placed it between himself and Oles.
“You know what?” he said. “Let me be the driver and you be the passenger. And then we can switch.”.
"Or you'll be the driver, and I'll be the garage," said Oles. "I'll build it out of blocks.".
— That will be even better!
Oles ran for the blocks. He brought a whole box. They built a garage with walls and a roof. Then a road. Then a bridge over the pillow. The car drove back and forth, the red light rolled across the carpet, both boys lay on their stomachs and hissed "vroom-vroom.".
When their mother called them to the table — to eat pancakes with sour cream — they came to the kitchen together, elbows touching.
“Have you made up?” Mom asked.
"We've already forgotten what we were fighting about," said Tymko.
- Through the typewriter.
- Ah, exactly. Through the machine.
The boys laughed. And the car lay on the carpet in the brick garage, waiting for its drivers to return.
💡 Friendship is more important than a game.