⏱ ~3 min reading
Nikita woke up earlier than his mother. He had been waiting for Saturday for a long time.
Yesterday at school, he and Sasha agreed: at ten in the morning, near the old chestnut tree in the yard. Sasha promised to bring a new deck of cards with football players, and Nikita promised to bring his old binoculars, through which he could even see pigeons on the roof of the neighboring house.
At half past nine, Nikita was already standing by the chestnut tree. The air smelled of wet bark and fresh bread from the bakery across the street. A cat was meowing somewhere. Nikita sat down on a bench and put his binoculars on his knees.
Tenth.
A quarter to eleven.
Half past eleven.
Sasha was not there.
Nikita twisted the binoculars in his hands, looking now at the clock, now at Sasha's entrance. At first he was simply bored. Then his cheeks became hot. And then - bitter.
«"He forgot. He just forgot. So I'm not important to him.".
Nikita went home. The binoculars went with him, heavy as a stone.
At home, my mother asked:
— How was your meeting?
"No way," grumbled Nikita. "I'm not friends with him anymore.".
— Did something bad happen?
— He didn't come.
Mom didn't say anything. She just patted her son on the head and placed a plate of hot cheesecakes in front of him.
In the evening the phone rang. Nikita recognized the number — Sasha. He didn't want to pick up. But he pressed it anyway.
"Nikita, please forgive me," Sasha's voice was quiet, as if he was a little hoarse. "I couldn't come. Grandma had a heart attack this morning, we called an ambulance. Mom took my phone because it wasn't time for that. I just got it now.".
Nikita was silent.
“How is Grandma?” he finally asked.
"It's better now. He's lying down, resting.".
— And you?
"Me too. I just... I was worried you'd think the wrong thing.".
Nikita looked at his binoculars. They suddenly seemed light—as if they weren't a stone at all, but just a soft toy.
"I thought," Nikita said honestly. "I thought you forgot. That you didn't really need me.".
— That's not true.
— I already know.
They were silent together—two boys, each in their own room, but very close.
"Come tomorrow," said Nikita. "With the cards. And I'll bring the binoculars. We'll count the pigeons.".
— I'll come.
When Nikita hung up the phone, his mother looked at him through the open door.
— Have you made up?
"We didn't quarrel," Nikita replied, surprised by these words himself. "He just made a mistake. It happens to everyone.".
Mom smiled and didn't add anything.
And the next day, Nikita was standing by the chestnut tree at half past nine. Sasha came running five minutes to ten, out of breath, with a pack of cards in his hand. They sat down on a bench, opened the deck, and Nikita suddenly thought: it's a good thing he picked up the phone. It's a good thing he let his friend explain. Because otherwise this morning might not have happened.
💡 Forgiveness is also strength.