FAIRY TALES ABOUT CARS
(fairy tales for boys from 2 to 6)

Cars lived in one large iron garage. Among them were: yellow Lada, red Lamborghini, blue Ferrari, white Ford, silver Toyota and many, many other cars. The garage was large and there was room for everyone.
Many different stories happened to the cars.

The blue Ferrari, which had everything a car could have - big heavy wheels, four yellow headlights, a powerful engine and whatnot, dreamed of flying to the moon. He liked the moon - big, yellow, round. But Luna sometimes hid, sometimes turned into a month, and Ferrari missed her so much. Without her at night on the road, it was dark and boring.

Drove a blue Ferrari to the airfield. Many different planes stood there: single-engine, twin-engine, jet, cargo, passenger, but none of them could fly to the moon.
- We would also like to fly to the moon, but we do not have enough strength and fuel - said the Ferrari planes
- We need to go to the cosmodrome, only rockets can fly to the moon.

Ferrari drove to the cosmodrome. One large silvery rocket was parked at the cosmodrome. She was going to fly to the moon.
- Take me with you - asked Ferrari.
“I can't,” the rocket answered, “I take cosmonauts with me, they need to look at our Earth from above. From above, our Earth is round, like a ball, so you can fly around it and come back.
“Then explain why I can't fly myself,” Ferrari asked.
- Because each of us was created for his own business, I can fly into the distant sky, but I cannot drive on the roads faster than everyone else, like you. You don't know how to fly, but you drive the road faster than everyone else, overtaking everyone. You dream of flying to the moon, and my dream is to go to a green lawn, smell white daisies and watch a transparent stream flow.
“Yes,” Ferrari said, “everyone has their own dream and their own business. It would be nice if all dreams come true, but then living without them was so sad.

And the blue Ferrari returned to his garage again to drive on the roads, and sometimes look into the sky and dream of flying to the moon.

It was a cold winter. The yellow Gazelle drove along a snow-covered road. She was bringing gifts to children for the New Year. A cold wind was blowing, but it was warm in the Gazelle, she was cheerfully driving along the road, listening to the radio and humming songs about a blue carriage, a smile and the New Year.
On the way, Gazelle recalled the warm summer, the dacha of a good grandmother she knew and her friend white Ford.

But suddenly "WHOOT!" truck KAMAZ.
- Whoa ... What should I do now? - thought Gazelle, turning on the wipers so that they brushed her tears on the windshield. The janitors brushed away tears, and Gazelle thought that now the children would be left without gifts for the New Year, she would soon run out of gasoline, and she would freeze until summer.
But then she remembered about the radio. Gazelle contacted her friend white Ford by radio and asked to help her out of trouble.

White Ford rushed to help his friend as quickly as possible in winter, especially since his tires were studded and did not slip on the road.
Soon a sad Gazelle appeared, at which the janitors were still working, wiping away her tears.
- Don't be sad, friend, - said the white Ford - I brought you a spare tire.
- Hooray! - the yellow Gazelle was delighted, - you are a real friend and comrade, you came to my aid!

Friends changed the broken wheel. They turned off the wipers, because there was no need to cry, turned on the radio and together, singing songs, took gifts for the children.

In the spring, the ice came off the river, and the red Lamborghini and yellow Zhiguli went fishing. They dug up worms, took fishing rods with them and a warm cape for the seats, suddenly it gets colder. Cars loved to sit by the river, bask in the spring sun and watch the first bees humming. They were not afraid of bees, because they were made of iron, and the bees could not bite.

Suddenly a motor ship appeared on the river. He slowly moved downstream, probably after winter, he made his first voyage. The ship sometimes hummed with joy so that everyone could see how beautiful and strong it was.
“Eh,” said the yellow Zhiguli, “we've heard that there are cars that can swim, they are called“ amphibians ”. It is a pity that you and I do not know how.
- Yes, - answered the red Lamborghini, - it would be nice now to swim on the river, next to this ship in a race. It would be a real spring gift for me. I have never swum.
And the friends became sad, despite the spring sun and the awakened bees.

The sun looked at them warmly from a height, and the bees, sitting on the hood, decided to ride with their friends.

The pink Volvo was driving along the road, he did not know where. He just liked to drive fast on any road he saw in front of him. On the way, he met many other cars that greeted him with honking honks, and he happily honked them back. On the way, he met a lot of interesting things, but Volvo did not like to stop, so it rushed forward and forward.

One day he was driving along one narrow road, the tank was full of gas, the engine was fine, the road was empty, and the ride was pleasant. And suddenly, in the middle of the road, he saw an old black jeep standing. The jeep was parked in the middle of the road, and there was no way to go around it. Pink Volvo drove up to the jeep and asked him to clear the road.
- I can't, - the jeep sighed heavily and sadly, - it broke down, I ran out of gasoline, and in general, I'm very old. Once upon a time I was new, strong, beautiful, my engine was the strongest, the trunk was the largest, I had the brightest headlights, the loudest horn, the most beautiful spoilers, everything was the best. And also, - the jeep sighed even heavily, - I had many friends. And now there is none of this. I'm standing on this road, no one needs an old black jeep.
- How so? - exclaimed the pink Volvo, - does it really happen, and I too will become old?
“Of course,” said the jeep, “everybody gets old sometime. And many, those who do not need anyone at all, are taken to the car dump.
- It should not be! - Volvo worried, - Everyone needs someone. He just doesn't know about it. Come on, I need you. We will repair your engine, fill the gas tank with gas, wash you to make you shiny again, and ride the roads together. And when you get tired, wait for me in the garage, I will return with gifts and stories about what I saw, you will listen and rejoice, as if you were with me. And then I also need someone to wait for me. It is so good when someone is waiting for you and rejoices at your return!
“Great idea!” Said the jeep. - Someone will need me. We will need each other.

This is how a black old jeep and a pink Volvo helped each other and became friends.

A red Lamborghini and a blue Ferrari have always raced, traveled to other countries, pilots led them on highways, and on bends they happily squealed at the speed that their engine developed. Then they were given various prizes and the cars went to the next race.

And at this time in the iron garage there were yellow Zhiguli and very, very, very, wanted to participate in races, travel to other countries and receive various prizes. But there was no opportunity for this, because the Zhiguli was an old car that was not at all suitable for racing. The Zhiguli were very upset by this circumstance and sometimes even cried. They looked with sadness at their old engine, scratched hood, broken headlight and found many other shortcomings. Yellow Zhiguli considered themselves an ugly and worthless car.

One day, an old smart silver Toyota came to the garage. She looked at how sad the Zhiguli was, and said:
- There are no ugly and worthless cars. You just need to urgently change yourself and really want to become different. Tomorrow we will do this with you.
The next day, a lot of new parts, paint and all sorts of other necessary parts were brought to the garage. They painted yellow Zhiguli, replaced a lot of things - the headlights, spark plugs, and the battery. And purple McLaren even lent a Zhiguli his powerful engine, since he himself went on vacation and wanted to sleep in the garage.

And now the new Zhiguli, they were not yellow, but golden, shone with new spoilers, shone with headlights and the engine hummed like an airplane. In such a beautiful form, the Lada went to the race with Lamborghini and Ferrari.
The first lap of the race Zhiguli were still afraid of their rivals, but then they remembered how beautiful they were, how they wanted to win, and took the lead. Circle after circle Zhiguli were ahead of everyone and came to the finish line first.
The most modern radio was presented to the winner of the race. It was a very good prize.

And now the Zhiguli know that if you really want to, you can achieve everything, even a very good prize for winning the race.

TRAVEL

Our Earth, on which we live, is round. Apart from roads, there are mountains, rivers, bridges, seas and much more on it.
Cars can only drive on roads, on good roads. Only an all-terrain vehicle and a tank can drive on bad roads, but it will not be able to drive everywhere either. But what should a truck, a white Volga and a blue Ford do, if they so want to travel, go everywhere, see many new different places?

The cars got together and began to think how to travel for them where there are no roads.
They decided to go to the station and find out how people travel.
The station is noisy, there are a lot of people with suitcases, but even more different trains - passenger, freight, postal.
Cars drove up to a long train, which had the largest number of carriages, and asked:
- Train friend, tell me, please, how do you get over the rivers and mountains? How do people travel? We so want to see other lands.
- It's very simple, - answered the train, - you see, there are sleepers, and these are my rails, along which I am traveling, they are long, long, and lead to other countries. If there is a river on the way, then I ride along the railway bridge, this is a bridge where only trains travel. If there are mountains on the way, then I go through a tunnel that is dug through the mountain. It's dark in the tunnel, but I'm not afraid.
Do you want to go together? You will step on special platforms for cars, and I will take you on a journey.
- Good idea! Great! - the cars were delighted.

They stood on special platforms, and the train took them to see the world.

One very stubborn green Gazelle did not want to follow the rules road traffic... I didn't want to, and that's it. The gazelle was very sweet, everyone liked it, so I thought that everything was possible, drove through the streets, sang songs and really wanted everyone to see how brave, courageous she was, how beautiful she was driving, ignoring other cars and even traffic lights ... Therefore, she did not wait for the green light to turn on, she simply did not look around. Neither right nor left.

It was raining, the asphalt was very slippery, after rain the asphalt is always slippery, and the wheels slide on it. The gazelle rode carelessly along the road and sang songs.
There was a very old and smart traffic light at the intersection. The traffic light saw that the Gazelle was rushing very fast, he lit his red eye, because he wanted everyone to be careful. But the Gazelle drove, not looking at the traffic light.
And on the other side of the intersection, a KAMAZ truck was driving, and the traffic light's eye showed a green light for it. KAMAZ began to move and suddenly our reckless Gazelle crashed into it.
- Oh-oh-oh! - shouted the Gazelle. She was in great pain. Its headlights and windshield were smashed, a fender and something else inside, probably a motor, were broken.
The KAMAZ was very large and nothing happened to it.
- Call an ambulance urgently! - hummed KAMAZ, - our Gazelle crashed, there is an accident!
An ambulance took Gazelle to the car hospital, service station.
- Yes ... For a long time now you will not drive, - they told her there, - we will treat you for a long time. You will even miss your birthday and not receive gifts. Didn't you know that you can only drive on a green light?

The green Gazelle is sad, but now she knows for sure that the rules must be followed. And not only traffic, but many other rules - the rule of behavior at the table, the rule to wash and brush your teeth in the morning, the rule to clean up after yourself and many others. Because the rules are designed so that no one gets into trouble.

The Krasny Zaporozhets walked for a long time, wandered between big cars on the road, because he was small, and now he drove to a place where he had never been. After all, there is always a place where we have never been.

The location was amazing. In a large parking lot there were many cars, and even such cars that Zaporozhets had never seen.
He went up to the old landau and asked:
- Where did these strange machines come from? I've never seen one like this on the road.
“This is a museum of vintage cars,” the landau replied.
- Look, here is the first car that people came up with. It is big and not as beautiful as modern cars, it has huge wheels, a loud engine and even no windshield wipers, such cars did not even know how to drive fast. And the engine of the first cars was not gasoline. And these are other cars that have not been made for a long time. All of them are very old, so they are standing, resting in the parking lot. Perhaps someday you will stand next to them.
- Can not be! - Shouted Zaporozhets, - After all, I'm new brilliant, I can do anything.
- Maybe, maybe, - said old car- I used to think so too. People constantly come up with new things, cars are getting better, more beautiful, faster. And they just stop making old cars and put them in a museum. Here, do not be sad, do not be afraid, many people come here to see what cars used to be, and we proudly show ourselves.

"Well, let it be," thought Zaporozhets. "Now I am needed, I will drive, work, and when new cars come to my place, I will stand in this museum and show everyone how beautiful I was."

One big red KAMAZ was very fond of singing songs about the long and straight road, about his friends, strong, big and small, about summer and the sea, about everything he saw on the road. But he didn’t succeed very well, rather it didn’t work at all. He just hummed loudly, everyone thought that he was asking to clear the road or just imagining, no one heard the music in his beeps, his songs.

Once, because once everything happens, KAMAZ was driving along the yellow road and was carrying a lot of heavy stones for construction. Construction vehicles were waiting for him - a bulldozer, an excavator, a crane, a loader. Therefore, KAMAZ was in a hurry. On the way, he sang a song, as always. This time the song was about strong cars who are friends, so they are good at working together.
A small old Zaporozhets was driving towards KAMAZ.
- Why are you shouting like that? - asked the Zaporozhets, - there is nobody on the road.
“I don’t shout, I sing,” KAMAZ answered.
- Who sings like that? Song is music and music of poetry.
“But I don’t know how to do it differently,” KAMAZ was upset.
- Do you want us to compose a song together? - suggested Zaporozhets.
- Come on, - KAMAZ was delighted.
And the song turned out like this:

There are many cars in the world
Trucks and cars
Adults and children know
All colors and brands of them.
There are silver cars
There are green and yellow
There are both dirty and clean
There are angry and kind ones.
And for racing cars,
There is for a construction site, for a trip,
And all cars have tires
There is a motor and a suspension.
All cars love to drive
Everyone doesn't like to be in an accident.
Everyone stands together in the garage
Who is closer, who is further

And all the machines are helpers
And in the ride and in the conflagration,
And at the construction site and in the rain
They are all comrades to people.

KAMAZ and Zaporozhets, singing together the song they had composed, drove on.

In the city of cars the sun came up and cars woke up with it.
Kapusha's truck was standing in the middle of his room. All the toys were taken out of their drawers and lay on the floor with a colored carpet.
“Kapusha, put away your toys, guests will come to us soon,” Mom said.
Today Kapusha's girlfriend was supposed to visit Kapusha - a little pink car, Sonya.
Kapusha set to work. He took the toy box. I put a hippo, a pyramid there ... Then a sunbeam entered the room and ran along the walls. How fun it is to play catch-up with the sun bunny.
Suddenly the doorbell rang.

Cranik Willie was presented with new caterpillars. Black and shiny! And of course Willie wanted to try them. But the caterpillars were brought in in the evening and there was very little time left for the games.

Category:, |

- Today is the birthday of Sonya's car! And I… I forgot to buy a gift, - with these words the truck Kapusha woke up.
After thinking a little about what girls love, he went for a gift:
- A bow or a doll ... which is better? - he muttered and did not notice how he arrived at the store.
- Can I buy a bow for Sonya's car! - from the doorway he said.
All the buyers and the seller were very surprised, because the store Kapusha drove into was a grocery store!

Category:, |

Friends invited Kapusha to an amusement park.

Kapusha has never been to an amusement park.
- What should you take with you? He thought.
Kapushi's truck's favorite pastime was playing with sand, so he took a shovel, a rake and a bucket.
Satisfied, he drove towards the park and met Doni on the way.

Category:, |

Meet! This is Willie's little crawler crane. He lives at a construction site with his mom, dad and grandfather.

There was a lake next to the construction site. And as befits a decent lake, in winter it froze and turned into ice. Willie was very fond of playing on the lake. Caterpillars glide so merrily on the frozen lake!
Today Willie's mom said, "Son, it's getting warmer, don't go for a ride on the lake today!"
But Willie didn’t obey. When all the adults started to work, but he went to the lake ...
At first everything went as usual. And Willie rolled along the beach and laughed. But then he heard a crack. And before he had time to recover, his right caterpillar fell through the ice!
- Save! Help! - Willie shouted, but the adult cars were busy at the construction site and did not hear him.
Good thing Willie's grandpa, old tower crane, no longer worked and strolled along the shore of the lake. He then heard cries for help. Drawing out his long arrow, he hooked Willie up and hauled him ashore.
Willie was crying, he was scared and angry.
- Why? Why did this harmful ice begin to melt? The small crane said, sobbing.
- Because spring is coming, - answered the grandfather.

Category:, |

- New Years is soon! What do you need to celebrate the New Year? Christmas tree and New Year's mood! - thought the truck Kapusha.
No sooner said than done! He found the most beautiful tree in the forest and sat down to wait for it. But for some reason the New Year did not come, and the New Year's mood did not appear.
Then grandfather's truck appeared in the clearing next to Kapusha.
- Hello! What are you doing in the forest all alone? - asked the grandfather.
- Hello! I'm waiting for the New Year, but it still doesn't come ... - Kapusha replied.
Grandpa smiled and said:
- Have you dressed up the tree?

Category:, |

Doni's truck left his house in the morning. It was the most ordinary morning. A warm breeze was blowing, a pleasant sun was shining. And suddenly, from somewhere, with noise and din, three green hedgehogs rolled out.
Doni could not believe his eyes. He thought that he had not yet woken up and that this was a dream. Here the hedgehogs argued:
- It's your fault. No you. No you!
Doni pulled up closer. Deciding that this was a dream, he asked: "What happened, cute hedgehogs?" He wanted to appear as kind as possible, just in case.
Then one of the hedgehogs looked at Doni and said:
- I'm not a hedgehog! I'm a zebra, look!

In one small village once lived blue car... All day long she rode through the fields - through the meadows. And she waited out the rainy weather under the roof of her cozy garage. But the machine always dreamed of a big city. She thought, “How nice and happy I would live there. How many interesting things I could learn if only I rode the city streets every day, and not my boring and deserted fields. "

So once, the typewriter got tired of dreaming. And she hit the road.
But the car had never gone so far from home before. Leaving a country road on a large highway, the car drove very slowly, examining everything around with interest.
Other cars, which were also driving into the city, began to loudly honk her:
-Hey! Move aside!
- Redneck!
- You were not fed with gasoline!

The car felt offended that they called her names, and she went faster.
“Now I’ll come to the city, they won’t talk to me like that,” the machine thought.

Finally, ahead, the city appeared in a grayish-crimson haze. As soon as the car entered its noisy streets, it was immediately stopped by a police car:
- Show your documents! She commanded.
- Now, now, - the blue car fussed.
- The purpose of your visit? The police car asked dryly.
“You see,” the blue car began to tell, “I have always dreamed of living in a big city, and now ...
“I see,” a police car interrupted her. - Be careful on the roads, - and went on to stop other cars.

The blue car drove through the wide and noisy streets. Thousands rushed here and there different cars... Many of them were so beautiful that the blue car could hardly take her eyes off them.

All day long the blue car rolled happily through the streets. And when it began to get dark, she thought it was time to look for a place to sleep. The car pulled up to a large, tired bus waiting for passengers at the stop:
- Excuse me, can you tell me where I can spend the night? - she turned to him.
The bus yawned - I don't know. I always sleep in my garage. I don't care about others.
“Can't I sleep in your garage too?” The machine asked.
- You? The bus asked sleepily. - Probably not - there is only enough room for me alone.
- Well, okay, - answered the blue car and drove on.

A large old truck was parked at the corner of the street. A blue car drove up to him:
- Hello! - the machine greeted.
“And you’re not sick,” the truck replied without looking at her.
- Can you tell me where I can spend the night?
“In a paid parking lot,” the truck replied. At that moment the driver returned, and the truck drove down the street groaning.
"Wow! That's great! " - thought the blue car and began to look for this very paid parking lot. Soon, by the road, she saw a large sign:

PAID PARKING FOR ANY CARS

The machine was delighted and went straight there. There was a large barrier at the entrance:
- Where are you going, kid? He called to the typewriter.
- I'm looking for a place to sleep.
- Do you have money? - asked the barrier.
- You see, - the machine began to make excuses, - I don't have it now. But tomorrow I will start looking for a job and then I will definitely pay.
“Come tomorrow,” the barrier snapped dryly.
- But ... - the machine wanted to object.
- No "but". If you have money, then spend the night! - the barrier was adamant.

Sadly, the blue car drove away from the parking lot. She felt very lonely now. From somewhere far away, the wind carried the words of a cheerful song:

Do not be sad, do not be discouraged,
Get on the tram as soon as possible.
I'll bring you home with the breeze
I go wherever I want ...

The blue car drove to where the cheerful sounds came from and soon saw a large mustachioed tram. He stood carefree on the rails and twitched slightly to the beat of his song.
- Good evening! The blue car turned to him.
- Kind-kind, - the tram answered loudly. - The weather is really what you need.
- Do you know where I can spend the night? The machine asked him.
- Spend the night? - the tram was surprised. - Of course, where you are expected!
“But they’re only waiting for me at home,” the machine replied.
- Here is the train-ah-ah, - the tram sang. At that moment the bell rang, and the tram slid merrily along the rails.

“But in fact,” thought the machine, “since no one is waiting for me in this big city, is it necessary to stay here?” The thought made the machine so happy that it even made a big U-turn in the middle of the street. Other cars honked her displeasedly.

The car drove back to its little village. She spent the night under the roof of her own cozy garage. And she was very happy. For the first time in her entire life, she did not dream of a big city.

Fairy tale car for the whole family

Magic car, Santa Claus, gnomes and Little Johnny

FAIRY TALE The car is on sale almost new

TALE Talkative scooter

TALE Magic machine, Santa Claus, gnomes and Little Johnny The boy really wanted a car for the New Year. But he didn't behave very well. And therefore, I received from Santa Claus not an ordinary gift

TALE A car for the whole family Mom, Dad, Shurochka and Nyurochka were choosing a car in the car market. It's not the easiest thing to do - to choose a car.

TALE Cheerful bus One funny bus was very fond of his job, and passengers, and the city he traveled through

FAIRY TALE Blue car goes to the city Once upon a time there was a typewriter that dreamed of becoming a city typewriter. One day she plucked up courage and left the village for a big city.

FAIRY TALE The car is on sale almost new

TALE Talkative scooter It is not always helpful to give advice to others. The little new scooter didn’t know about it and broke such firewood!

THE FAIRY TALE Gopka and Topka: roller trackers Brothers detectives Gopka and Topka solve a case of missing comics

A TALE about a car that wanted to fly Some people think that only birds can fly. But not cars. But why?

TALE about a concrete mixer Such a hefty car! So strong and important! Wouldn't anyone really want to make friends with her?

A TALE about Billy the excavator and the magic wheel At the construction site, all the cars chatted among themselves. The youngest excavator pulled out an unusual contraption from the ground.

TALE Car and mushroom A good story about a chance meeting radio-controlled cars and mushroom in the forest

A FAIRY TALE Pikh the engine: a pernicious journey The Pikh locomotive took the mischievous old people on a journey from house number eight on Orekhovaya Street

FAIRY TALE Important gears The gears lay on a shelf in the garage and told everyone stories. And then the boy Vanya came and took them.

TALE Druzhok - a machine from the constructor The boy Vanya was presented with a typewriter from the construction set for his birthday. He put it together, but it turned out badly. Other toys began to laugh at her

STORY Constructors

STORY A Useful Machine Sanya and Vanya sat on a bench and dreamed about what kind of cars they would buy themselves when they grew up. And then Sanya went home and dad and mom also began to dream about his, Sanya's car

TALE I'm running, Mitenka, I'm running! As a grandmother, she always helped her granddaughter Mitenka. And even when he got really big

A kind and resourceful trailer found its own train and is now ready to help everyone

TALE Automotive Aibolit This is the grandson of the famous doctor who was very fond of fixing cars, and bicycles, and rollers, and even airplanes.

Of course, more often than not, fairy tales about cars read for boys. But no, it's nothing surprising that girls are also very interested in such stories. Because every modern child, at least once in his life, has ridden a car, or a bus, or a train, or a tram. And, of course, every child knows what a bicycle, roller skates, a scooter are ...

The stories placed in this group come from the most different kinds transport... They allow you to take a fresh look at the familiar objects around us.

Chapter 1. Introduction

I am often asked why I love my job? I don't even know ... To be honest, I like everything about her. I love the stringy, slightly pungent smell of engine oil mixed with hints of gasoline and fresh tires. I love the roar of properly working engines. When they get here, hoarse, quiet, so tired - it hurts to look at them; my heart breaks with pity for these sounds. But now, very little time passes and the cars begin to sing, melodiously and loudly, almost like birds.

My name is Aibolit, and yes, the same great doctor who treated everyone from hippos to bunnies was my grandfather.

Oh, how many amazing stories I heard in my distant childhood about his life, about which countries he visited, what strange animals he cured. And, of course, my parents had no doubts that I would continue my family business and become a doctor. But ... More than anything, I loved cars.

I fixed my first toy car when I was three years old. I remember how she lay on the street in the rain alone, abandoned, forgotten by everyone, with her body split in half. I found it and brought it home. And there he took glue, paints and fixed the typewriter. It turned out very well. The car immediately began to circle around me and honk gratefully.

I have repaired my bicycle and other bicycles countless times. To tell the truth, all the bicycles that were on my street. And on the neighboring ones. I don’t know why they chose me out of all the boys? Probably because I was the only one who was ready not only to repair, but also to listen to their many problems. What problems can transport have? They are very different, and not always simple.

For example, the other day, my old friend, Samosval Kuzovich, came to see me. Yes, yes, now I am already a big guy with severe wrinkles on my forehead, but kind green eyes. And now not only bicycles and toy cars come to me, but also real adult working cars. So, while I was changing the wheel of Dump Truck Kuzovich, he constantly told me how unfairly his owner was treating him - he drives him around dusty and noisy construction sites all day long. And the only well-deserved vacation of the year, Dump Truck Kuzovich spent locked in his garage, while he could lie on the beach under the bright sun or ride through the fragrant forests, listen to birdsong, and stuff like that.

But that's what it is!

This morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, I was informed that someone named Karetkin had arrived.

I got out of bed, and as I was in my pajamas, without even drinking coffee, I went to the workshop, which, fortunately, occupied the garage of my own house.

So what do you think ?!

This Karetkin turned out to be the most ordinary carriage, which separated from the horses ( he, you see, is tired of always being on the sidelines) and demanded that I install an engine for him. What an attack! I began to explain to Karetkin that his uniqueness, so to speak, market value, lies precisely in being with horses. But he didn’t want to listen to anything either. I installed the motor for him, after all.

Chapter 2. The beginning of amazing events

As soon as I said goodbye to the anxious Karetkin, I sat down at a small table with curved legs by the window in the living room to drink my morning coffee ... No, not like that ...

As soon as I brought my morning coffee mug to my mouth, the doorbell rang. My housekeeper, a kind and already slightly blind lawn mower, immediately rushed to open it.

At first I heard an indistinct hum from the street. I've never heard anything like it before. A second later, the housekeeper called me:

- Sir, they ask you there. A matter of extreme importance.

I put the coffee back on the table and went outside. Still in pajamas. What I saw outside the door amazed me a lot. Blocking the street with its massive body, a real military plane stood in front of my house. Before, I had only seen such people in pictures, and in general I try to deal exclusively with civilians.

- How can I serve? - I politely turned to the visitor, trying to hide my excitement.

“Let me introduce myself — Lieutenant Colonel Flash, Gorgandian Air Force.

- Aha ... Gorgandia ... - I tried in vain to remember on the map where this state is located. - How can I serve?

- We have emergency... Several units of military equipment under my jurisdiction crashed in the Himalayas. You must go there immediately and do your best to get them back into the air!
I involuntarily chuckled (out of indignation, of course), but immediately pulled myself together and calmly explained to the guest that I was not engaged in repairing military equipment, and even more so, aircraft. But my opponent didn't even listen:

“I’m telling you, this is a matter of extreme importance! You must go there with me immediately!

- Why don't you just take one of the masters there, who certainly understands this problem better than me? Isn't there a single aircraft repairman in all of your Gorgandia?

“You don’t understand,” the guest started shouting. But then one old woman leaned out of the window of a neighboring house and sternly shook her finger at me:

- Aybolit! Your jokes make my TV junk! Be so kind as to go about your business in your garage!

The fact is that my guest really hit the power lines with his wing, and every time he tried to express his idea, the wires trembled from his loud bass.

Apparently, like all military men, the guest treated the elders with great respect, and therefore he calmed down and continued almost in a whisper:

“You don’t understand, the problem is not to find a master. Of course, in our country there are repair shops and even design bureaus. The fact is that the planes that fell in the Himalayas refuse to return to normal life. They told me that they would spend the rest of their days in the mountains, that they would comprehend the meaning of life away from civilization.

Probably, these words made my face look like a vegetable marrow, because, judge for yourself, have you ever heard something like this in your life?

Personally, never!

Warplanes - who volunteer to spend the rest of their lives in the mountains. Are they monks from a Buddhist monastery ?! And what, excuse me, will they be doing there, if not flying? Breeding goats?

I really wanted to pinch myself. And if it weren't for the old lady next door, who was still peeking furtively at us through the curtains, I would have thought I was dreaming all this.

Meanwhile, my new friend continued:
- I was recommended you, as a person who knows how to find a common language with technology. In our time, such a rarity. Gorgandia is a very rich country. You can expect significant rewards.

No, I never chased profit. And in general, work has always brought me joy. It's all about my sick housekeeper - the lawn mower. And also - in a garage-workshop, which would not hurt at all to renovate or even rent a separate building in which large-sized cars can be repaired.

After some thought, I made a decision:
“Well, if you let me finish my coffee and pack my suitcase, we can fly.

My new acquaintance was somehow embarrassed, and I felt some understatement:
- The fact is that at the moment any flights are prohibited over the Himalayas. I can deliver you, maximum to the shores of India, and then you will have to get there on your own.

Gee! We did not agree on such a scenario. Indeed, unlike my eminent grandfather, who treated sick animals in Africa, and on distant oceanic islands, and even in Antarctica, I never left my hometown. What is really there, I even went to work in room slippers. I had no idea how to get to the Himalayas from the shores of Hindustan. On the other hand, my father always said that the fate of each of us is pre-written in some great heavenly books. By all means happy and kind. To refuse the given opportunity means to rewrite your book with your own hands. And, after all, you can regret it. Eh, it was not ...

I returned to the living room, gulped down the cold coffee in one gulp and went upstairs to collect my things.

An hour later, a hefty supersonic strategic bomber-missile carrier with a variable sweep wing (I learned these details later) carried me far, far from my hometown. The same one where in an ordinary old house, with a garage equipped for a car repair shop, there was a lonely and half-blind lawn mower ...

Chapter 3. India. Getting to know rickshaws

- Hey buddy! Where do you want to go?

I opened my eyes. An incredibly crowded city was noisy and humming all around. It was dark when the plane brought me here last night.

The lanterns were barely on, so I just found a free bench and fell on it until morning. But with the first rays of the sun, the streets were filled with noise and hubbub, in which human voices and sounds of traffic merged together.

A very strange creature was leaning over me. In appearance, it looked like an ordinary two-wheeled cart, which farmers use on their farm. Only for some reason, instead of a horse, a man was harnessed to the cart.

Little swarthy Indian. Hunched over and white-toothed.
- Who are you? - I turned in surprise to the cart (well, or to what could be called a cart).
“You are wonderful…,” the cart snorted. - By profession I am a rickshaw, and by my father they call me Abhey Ajiit Amar Aditya.

I preferred to call this creature simply by profession.
“I need to go to the Himalayas,” I told him. - These are mountains.
“In the course,” the rickshaw grunted. - Can deliver to Mumbai train station. From there a train goes to the city of Siliguri. It is just at the foot of the Himalayan mountains.

The idea came to my liking, and therefore, having paid the man harnessed to the rickshaw the amount due, I flopped into the carriage, dragging my entire simple bag with me.

On the way to the Mumbai train station, the garrulous rickshaw chatted incessantly, talking about everything that came our way.
When I finally got to the Mumbai train station, it seemed to me that I knew India as well as my hometown.

Chapter 4. Train - Ananda Nuri

It turned out that the train to the city of Siliguri at the foot of the Himalayan mountains runs no more than once a week. But it seems that luck was on my side. Today was that very day. There was no more than an hour left before the train left. True, at the local ticket office, I was informed that all the seats had been dismantled. But I, not in the least upset, headed straight for the locomotive.

It was a pretty gray and life-tired unit. From the outside it might seem that it is better not to pester him with questions. But I dared all the same:
- Good day! - I told him.
“Good,” he replied in an unusually pleasant and soft voice. So soft that I even thought ... It can't be!
- Excuse me, but what is your name? - I could not resist asking, wanting to test my hypothesis.
“No one has asked me about this before,” the locomotive perked up, “but since you are wondering, Ananda Nuri is my name.

This is true! I was not wrong!
I, in turn, also respectfully introduced myself and told where and why I had arrived in Mumbai.
Ananda Nuri's locomotive looked around me in surprise:
- So you are not a tourist?
- Alas, I am a doctor, so to speak. Machine doctor.

I already told you that I can find an approach to technology. Less than five minutes later, the locomotive began to tell me about its problems, about the negligence of the driver and how tired she was from year after year to travel along the same route, while there are so many extraordinary its remarkable places. And she also had something wrong in the oil system of the diesel engine, but during the last technical inspection the master did not notice this and now Ananda Nuri was suffering a lot while driving.

I instantly took out my gloves and some special repair accessories from my travel case and in no time cured the locomotive.
“I cannot express in words how grateful I am to you,” she said with natural Indian deference. - Listen, what if you go right here in the head of the train? There is no need to crowd with all this ungrateful people in overcrowded carriages.

I didn’t say that I don’t have a ticket, and sincerely thanking my new acquaintance for the offer, I quickly threw my things into the locomotive.

The train started moving. To the right and left of the railroad tracks, a myriad of unstable buildings that looked like huts flashed. Each of them was crowded with people. For the most part, these were bare-bellied swarthy guys. But there were also rickshaws already familiar to me, and sometimes, quite rarely, there were cars. They sleepily cast their half-covered headlights around the accelerating train. I don’t know what they were thinking about there, but they looked the most boring.

Forty-six hours or two full days on the Indian railway together with Ananda Nuri, talkative to the point of impossibility, and now I am standing in the middle of a busy station in the city of Siliguri, and the Himalayan mountains rise above me, like age-old guards of these places.
“Goodbye,” I said good-naturedly to the locomotive.
- Goodbye, good doctor! Ananda Nuri boomed to me. - And may everything that you want to fulfill in these great mountains will certainly be done.

Chapter 5. Bus - the rise begins.

Buses were parked in a row behind the railway. I approached them and politely inquired about their route. It turned out that they were all heading towards the Himalayas, but none of them reached the place I needed:

“You wouldn't go there,” said the most dilapidated and badly painted bus. The paint on its roof was completely peeled off, one of the two doors did not close tightly, and the other was completely absent. I really wanted to help this poor fellow. But it would take me at least a few days to carry out work of such complexity. And besides, special tools were needed.

Soon the drivers approached, I bought a ticket from one of them and climbed into the stuffy, terribly smelling of gasoline interior of the poor fellow-bus and stared out the window.

The mountains surrounded us somehow suddenly. It seemed like they were just visible on the horizon, but now they are piling up on both sides of the road, threatening to crush us and look. The bus goes higher and higher. Far below, Siliguri remains, and a rivulet, and herds of grazing cows, which now look like tiny dots.

For many hours we drove along a winding mountain road. And when it began to get dark, our bus puffed, rattled, and so at once and stalled in the middle of the road.
The crushed driver jumped out with screwdrivers in his hands and instantly crawled under the bus to look for the cause of the breakdown. I, too, got out of tears and, walking around the bus from my face, looked pitifully into its headlights:

- Well, my friend, the inspection has probably been a long time ago?

- Eh-eh-heh ... - the bus sighed dully. - What kind of inspection is there. I should have been in recycling for three years now ... If it were not for my faithful driver, who does not eat or drink himself, but saves everything for me on parts, I would now lie at the welding together with other poor fellows.

I felt so sorry for this bus and its compassionate owner, who was starving for his pet. I decided to extend my journey to the planes for a short while and help them as much as I can. Having approached the driver who was buried under the bus, I explained to him who I was. Hearing this, he straightened up to his full height, and then began to bow to me, thanking the heavens for giving him such a generous gift. I took all the parts from him and got down to business.

It took me a whole night to breathe new life into this old unit. It was early morning when I finished. All passengers, including the driver, slept peacefully in their seats. And only we did not sleep with the bus, but discussed the changes that had occurred over a mug of tea. More precisely, I drank tea. I had it stored in advance in a camp thermos, and the bus was enjoying the freshly poured fuel. His voice now sounded completely different:

- I'll tell you what, Aibolit, - he said softly, with a noticeable hoarseness, - the place where you need to get is far, far from civilization. There are no cities or people there. I have daredevil acquaintances who will agree to take you there. Guys they are, of course, wild, but brave.

Now, when we arrive in the village, I will take you with them.

I sincerely thanked the bus for helping me and went up to the salon to wake up the driver.

Chapter 6. Bicycles Kizi and Mukul

By noon we reached a high-mountain village. The air here was unusually fresh. Apart from our bus and another rusty car, there was no other transport here. I looked around, trying to understand what kind of brave guys they were talking about, when two small youthful bicycles with frames pasted over with stickers from chewing gum drove up to the station.
- O! Here they are! - the bus greeted happily. - Kesey! Mukul! Long time no see!
The bus and bicycles (which turned out to be not so young) exchanged greetings. Then the gaze of the three turned to me:

- Well guys, - said the bus (I didn't even bother to find out his name), - will you help this guy? He helped me out a lot. I don't want such a person to perish in these mountains.
- We will be happy to help, - bicycles crackled. - But, just to the very destination, we can not get. Painfully high. Our wheels will have a hard time there. But, honestly, we will pass as much as we can.
I said goodbye to the bus, loaded my things onto one bike, and got on the other and drove further into the mountains. I confess to you, I turned out to be a terrible coward.

I never noticed a fear of heights or bad weather. Although, in fact, how could I check this? At home, going down from the second floor to the first? And watching a thunderstorm from behind a window glass was not so scary. Sheer cliffs with steep mountain gorges are quite another matter. And also a thunderstorm at the pass, which will split you like a splinter.

My guides really turned out to be rare daredevils. We were balancing on the edge of the abyss like circus tightrope walkers. Stones, larger and smaller, which had lain here for thousands of years, whistled out from under the wheels of Kizi and Mukul and, with frightening speed, rushed into the abyss. Just think, but we could have been in their place!

We had to spend several cold nights in the open air. I slept on the damp ground with my things under my head, and my tireless guides drilled the impenetrable darkness with their headlights.

Incredibly, once they managed to save me from certain death in this way. In the midst of the night, Mukul (we must pay tribute to his sensitivity) heard the stamping of large paws. And although the unknown tried to move as quietly as possible, his approach could not hide from the keen hearing of the bicycle. He instantly woke me up and ordered me to stay behind them, while they and Kesey put forward their menacing spokes from the wheels and prepared to hold the attack. It was none other than a Himalayan bear. No longer a bear cub, but not yet an adult bear.

Luckily for us, the performance of two furious and fearless youth bicycles surprised and even frightened him. The bear stood a little to the side, and then, not wanting to get involved in a fight with unknown creatures, he went home.

After that, I looked at my saviors with completely different eyes. I even decided that when my whole adventure with the crashed planes was over, I would definitely return to a small Indian village, find bicycles and generously thank them. You can, for example, completely update them. Or remake them into real electric moped. Or in general (if they, of course, agree) to make self-propelled rickshaws out of them.

I savored my idea for several days. Until the time has come to say goodbye. As brave as my new friends were, the time has come. Feelings overwhelmed me and wanted to cry. But how could I show weakness in front of such brave types?

We parted on a rocky pass.
“Our wheels have no further way to go,” Kesey informed me, and Muku sighed deeply in confirmation of his words. - Take care! They told me.
- And you! - I answered. - Remember to lubricate the chains in time. It is very important!

Chapter 7 The Impartial Wiry Goat

The bicycles rolled back, humming some ringing Indian song, and I went further up. The stones under my feet were crumbling every now and then. I clung to the ground with my hands and, like a strange four-legged creature, conquered the inaccessible, impassable and merciless horizons. And in my head someone's thin voice echoed:

... And the mountains are getting higher, and the mountains are getting steeper,

and the mountains disappear under the very clouds.

Oh, if I don't make it.

If I get lost on the way ... K. Chukovsky

Eh, my legendary grandfather would see me now! I wonder what he would say?

All day I stormed one single mountain. When my strength finally left me, I decided to take a break. It was difficult to make a fire at such a height because of the thin air, and there was no trace of firewood. So I just took bread and cheese and a flask of water from my backpack.

As soon as I opened my mouth and got ready to eat, a strange gray muzzle stuck out from behind a nearby boulder. She eagerly stared at my sandwich, and after a moment, the rest of the body appeared after the muzzle. He was an impartial, wiry goat, an inhabitant of the local mountains. Such as he can jump on steep cliffs, and pass even where other animals, it would seem, would certainly have to fall down.

The goat was hungry. Everything in his appearance spoke of this. But, after a whole day's journey, I also experienced an unpleasant sucking feeling in my stomach. And, although there were other supplies in addition to this sandwich in my backpack, there was not much food.

Who knows how many more days I have to wander here alone? And then, the goat will surely be able to find other food for itself. Some roots and shoots, while my human hunger cannot be satisfied with this.
Knowing that the goat does not understand me, I said out loud:
- You, of course, excuse me, friend, but I'm afraid you will have to look for dinner elsewhere.

Imagine what my surprise was when the goat did not bleat at me, but answered. Usually, as we - ordinary people say:
- There was nothing else to expect from you. Greed is certainly the vice of all vices.
- How! - I was amazed, - You say ?!
The goat turned away resentfully and muttered:
- To me, too, opening. And you walk on two legs. What? Surprised?

Of course, after such a discovery, I had no choice but to invite the goat to share a meal with me. After all, the sandwich was big enough for me alone. We ate in silence. More precisely, I chewed, and the goat just licked the proposed one at once, and pretended that half of it was much smaller than mine (although I shared everything honestly).

As I chewed, a strange thought occurred to me.

After all, my grandfather, the famous Aibolit, perfectly understood the language of animals, birds, and even insects. And by the way, my father too. True, he talked mostly only with his dog Laika or with Tyanitolkai, and he treated the rest of the animals more and more by communicating with their owners.

As for me, in my entire life I have never spoken to four-legged animals. And he did not speak to the fish. Nor did I speak to the pigeons, which every day scurried here and there in front of my window and pretended that this was not my house at all, but their dovecote, which for some reason I had illegally occupied. With transport, the situation was quite different. I understood everyone well, from roller skates to large dump trucks, and they understood me. And there was nothing unusual or mysterious about it. Until that very minute, until this impartial and sinewy goat appeared in my life.

- How much can you eat this pathetic sandwich? - a squeaky disgusting voice broke my thoughts. The goat watched with all his eyes the pieces of bread and cheese disappearing into the depths of my mouth.

I shrugged and said nothing.
- Do you want me to teach you one thing? - suggested the goat. “After that, you will always eat as fast as I do.
This idea seemed to me not so bad, so I, to my misfortune, looked up from the meal for a minute and stared inquiringly at the goat.
“First,” he began calmly, “you have to close your eyes tightly and think about what you’re going to eat.
I obeyed.
“After that, count to three,” the goat continued.
I counted.
“Now open your eyes,” he ordered imperiously.
And I opened it. But, of course, there was no longer any sandwich on my hand. As there was no goat nearby. Such is the thing.

Chapter 8. Balloon

By lunchtime the next day, I finally took the summit. From here opened up an extraordinary, I would even say, tremblingly exciting view of the surrounding expanse. There are only mountains around. And, of course, no planes. According to my calculations, at least another four days' journey separated me from them.

Having overcome the summit and stopped on a small rocky ledge, I suddenly saw something strange. Not far from me, in a crevice between the rocks, a multicolored rag was dangling in the wind. On closer inspection, I noticed that something like a bag or a basket is attached to the base of this rag.
I went there and in just a few minutes, a tragic picture opened up to my eyes. Hanging over a frightening abyss, a balloon lay at the edge of the crevice. More precisely, what is left of it. Surely, the poor fellow stayed here not a single year. The gondola lay on its side; it had holes of impressive size on three sides. Probably, before landing, the structure was pretty much beaten against the rocks. The lines are almost worn out. Only a miracle so far has kept the balloon (the colored shell, which I first mistook for a piece of cloth) and the gondola linked.
“Hey,” I said quietly to the ball. - Are you alive, buddy?

Silence hung in the air for a while. I was about to take off my cap and pay tribute to the untimely departed, but suddenly something groaned, rustled and the ball answered quietly:

- It's hard to believe it, but it seems to be alive.

Incredible! Wonderful!

It turned out that the ball has been lying here much longer than I expected. His negligent owner, having escaped a terrible catastrophe, threw his comrade, his faithful, always patient and understanding air friend, to the mercy of fate.

And what a miracle that I was not too lazy and took from home the entire repair kit in its entirety! It was not difficult for me to patch up, glue and fix everything that required mending.

Tired, but satisfied with the work done, by nightfall, I was already looking at the snow-covered mountain ranges, comfortably sitting at the bottom of the gondola gently swaying on the air waves. And the ball, grateful and moved to tears by the miraculous deliverance, told me extraordinary stories about its past adventures. Maybe later, when I have a free minute, I will write them down for you too.

Needless to say, with such a successful presentation, we arrived much earlier to the place where the planes from Gorgandia were hiding from the bustle of the city.

I will try to convey to you what I saw in colors, although this is hardly possible ...
Gray mountains immersed in a misty haze. Somewhere below, a river winds like a thin satin ribbon. On both sides of it stretches a wonderful valley - a green-brown gorge, hidden from prying eyes and therefore even more reminiscent of a fabulous oasis. Something is moving down there. Something big.

I took the binoculars and put them to my eyes, although I didn't have to. This is true! Disturbing the harmony of nature untouched by man, airplanes slowly moved along the valley.

I asked my air friend to descend, and after a few minutes the balloon smoothly sank to the ground.
“I can wait for you,” he suggested. - When do you plan to return?
- Not worth it. I think I will have to stay here for a few days.
I sincerely wished him happiness and further flights. On that we parted. It's incredible. Until that day, I had only seen balloons on TV.

Chapter 9. Missing planes

When the balloon flew away, I headed for the planes. Those, although they noticed me - a stranger, did not show it and continued aimlessly wandering along the flowering valley, leaving deep dents from their wheels on the pliable soil.
— Good day you, ”I shouted cheerfully. But the planes just glared at me and, without stopping, drove off somewhere.

I ran after them. It's good that they moved slowly, otherwise I would never catch up with them. And in general, is it possible to compete in speed with the military?

At the edge of the valley, in one of the rocks, there was a crevice. So huge that a car, a train, and even an airplane could easily get there. One by one, the planes disappeared into the blackening hole, and the roar from their engines echoed outward, tearing the air with its unnatural growl for these places.

When at last I, too, reached the crevice, it took me considerable effort to overcome my fear of the unknown, darkness and closed spaces. Without thinking about it for a long time, I entered under the vault of a huge stone "house". As I moved further and further deeper into the cave, daylight became more and more absent-minded. Soon a gloom enveloped me, and only the muffled hiss coming from somewhere served as a guide for me.

It took quite a long time before I walked out into the spacious, lighted hall. In front of me, like primitive human beings, planes stood in a circle. In the midst of them a flame burned and its flashes cast their scarlet tongues-shadows on the walls and the gnarled ceiling. Yes, any normal biped can get dizzy from this.
I didn't want to disturb their ritual. But, on the other hand, it was simply indecent to stand still.

I coughed:
- Kh-kh ...

No reaction. Then one more time. Again, not a single plane took notice of me. Then I took in more air in my lungs and shouted.

Then all the planes at once turned around and stared at me in surprise.
“Good afternoon,” I said, embarrassed. - It's cozy here.

One of the planes, apparently the oldest, slowly rode out towards me:
- Why did you come here, man? Once you have found this place, you should probably know that people are not liked here. This is the only place in the entire world where technology chooses its own destiny.

- Yes, really, - I involuntarily scratched the back of my head. - I know that. Actually, that's why I arrived. This, you know, is somehow strange ... Military planes were born to fly and serve, but the plane did not let me finish.
- You, like other people, are too self-confident and think that you have the right to make choices for others. Airplanes are born to fly, cars to ride, ships to sail. But has anyone ever tried to find out what inventions themselves want? What if the ship wants to take off or the car wants to sail down the river? No, it’s too complicated and unnatural to fit into your primitive human brain! - he practically shouted the last words, so that several weighty boulders fell from the ceiling of the cave.

I shivered involuntarily. It looks like these planes have gone crazy. They can hardly be convinced of anything.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I'd better leave. Don't worry, I'll find a way out myself, - with these words I backed away, but another plane immediately blocked my way.
“You've seen too much,” said the old plane. “We cannot let you leave like this and tell other people about our life. You will have to stay here forever.

This prospect did not particularly delight me. Yes, what is really there - I was terribly scared. I wanted to run, but are human legs able to compete in speed with airplanes, even crazy ones?
The "old man" (I still did not know the name of this plane) ordered me to be taken to the dungeon. She became a damp and dark cave, no larger than a bathroom, separated from the outside world by some piece of iron instead of a door. Although, to be honest, I would not run away, even if there were no doors at all. My dungeon was so far from the entrance to the cave, and they took me to it for so long, overcoming numerous turns and halls, that in the end I was completely confused and did not know where I was.

My escort was a very young plane, which in appearance barely flew its first hundred thousand air miles. But his eyes were very sad, and they did not at all suit the one who found the meaning of life and found his true vocation. I tried to speak to him, but the plane did not answer and drove away.

Left alone, I sat down on the stone floor, closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep from exhaustion. I had an amazing dream in which I was sitting in my cozy armchair in my living room and drinking my favorite freshly brewed coffee made by my housekeeper, a lawn mower. Through the window I saw cars driving along the street. Seeing me, they all slowed down, honked friendly and drove on about their business. Suddenly, everything around me began to change. My house, along with all the furniture, turned into a cold rocky cave, planes drove along the street instead of cars, ships flew in the sky, and cars were sailing along the Upton River, the only river in our city, one after another.

I woke up. One. All in the same cave. Memories of recent events made me take a deep breath. What has become of my quiet, comfortable life over the past few days?

Suddenly I heard some kind of noise. It got louder and louder. Finally the door of my dungeon opened and an airplane appeared on the threshold. The one that led me here. More precisely, only the wheels were placed in the door. He himself could not fit into a tiny room in any way.
Still silent, he pushed me a plate of some green beans.
I guessed it was food for me. If so, it’s not too bad. They don't want to starve me to death. It means that all is not lost yet.
- Can I have some water? I asked, trying to speak as kindly as possible.
The plane heard my request and departed. After a while, he returned with a huge barrel filled to the brim with the purest spring water. He was about to leave when I spoke, trying to delay my loneliness at least for a while:
- What is your name? - but, of course, there was no answer.
“You're from Gorgandia, aren't you?” - I did not calm down. - A wonderful country, probably, although I don’t remember that we studied it in geography lessons. I am Aibolit, an automobile doctor. Well, in truth, not a doctor, but a mechanic, but in memory of my famous grandfather, they call me that.
My last words had a strange effect. The plane bent down and looked through the door in surprise, as if wanting to determine if I was lying. After that he left, and after a few minutes they came for me.

Chapter 10. The terrible secret of Gorgandia

We returned to the hall. The one where I first saw a cluster of aircraft in front of the fire. They were assembled again. They just looked at me completely differently. The oldest one approached me:
- When you appeared here, we could not even think that we were talking not with an ordinary biped, but with the great Aibolit. In our circles they make up legends about you.

You see, everyone is pleased to hear this about themselves. And what the "old man" said later, the way he praised me, could not but raise my self-esteem. Frankly, I was even slightly proud, almost forgetting about the night spent in the stone prison.
“You have to help us,” the plane finished its long speech. “Fate itself sent you here.
- Yes, but what should I do? - I was getting very curious.
- You must give us immortality.
After that, the plane told me a strange story. One of those that even mothers do not come up with to calm down their naughty and unwilling to fall asleep children.

Gorgandia is a wonderful sunny country off the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. It is so good there all year round that even birds do not fly away to winter in warm regions, cars travel through the streets so slowly that they manage to wish each other a pleasant day on the go, and boats moored in the coastal waters sing exciting and soulful songs, like a real choir ...

And so, in all this splendor, grace and prosperity, on the outskirts of the state, where the Misty Mountains begin, a cemetery is located. A cemetery of old and unnecessary technology. Those who are still alive, but can no longer benefit people. Some can take care of themselves, get food, help others. But most just die slowly. And this is the most terrible, most painful death that one can only imagine. From the rains, the equipment is covered with rust and remains so until its heart - the motor - becomes completely unusable. After that, the end.
The very first plane that escaped from Gorgandia was the old Turan-135, which served faithfully to its state. He found this place quite by accident, flying over the Himalayas, in the hope that he would run out of fuel, and he would crash on sharp rocks. For there is no more worthy death for a military plane. Having made a short stop here, Turan-135 realized that he no longer wanted to take off. With the help of the built-in location service, he informed his loved ones not to look for him. Remembering this, the "old man" sighed heavily and a large oily tear rolled down his gray shabby metal body.

But everything turned out to be not so simple. Day after day and month after month, the obsolete units of military and civilian equipment continued to be sent to the Cemetery. The fear of excruciating death gripped everyone, from simple toasters and coffee grinders to hefty warplanes.

And then one day, a young aircraft trainee Corp-1708, for the hundredth time studying the message of his teacher and mentor, accidentally discovered the coordinates of his location. He told the other planes about this and once again after the end of the combat operation they all, instead of returning back to Gorgandia, made an unscheduled stop here in the Himalayas. At first, Turan-135 still tried to persuade them to return home, but the planes as one kept repeating that they did not want to live in anticipation of a terrible death. It is better to end your life here, far from cruel and ruthless people.

- And now, - summed up his story "old man" Turan - 135, - Fate itself gave us a gift and gave us a second chance. You - Aibolit will make us immortal, and only then will we return back to our Motherland.
I was so amazed by what I heard that I could not find words for an answer. Yes, I was a master of my craft. During my short life, I literally brought back the rarest and seemingly untreatable machines from the other world. I could make out a breakdown of any complexity, regardless of whether it was a hefty colossus, like airplanes, or a tiny snuff-box machine. But immortality ... Every thing on this earth has its own term. I felt sorry for the planes. It is a pity that their state, with all its apparent well-being, behaved so cruelly towards those who soared up every day, overcoming the laws of gravity, who died without sparing themselves during dangerous missions. But I was not omnipotent.

It took time to answer. I understood that every word I said, years later, would be put on my own scales of Good and Evil. Now there can be no third: either the planes will leave their solitude and return home with me, or we will all forever remain here to perish in this celestial desolation.

But suddenly, this, probably, happens only in fairy tales, a brilliant thought came to me:
“Listen,” I began cautiously, “but don't people in your country know what recycling is? Do not things acquire a second life that are no longer used, but can serve another, more noble purpose?
- What are you talking about? - Turan-135 asked me briskly.
- I'm talking about waste recycling. There are practically no places left in the world that you are talking about. This Cemetery is just a dump, it takes extra kilometers from your state. And as far as I understand, Gorgandia is not that big. All you need is to build a waste recycling plant and then each of you, after the expiration date, can become something else. Something new and useful. In this way you will attain true immortality.
There was complete silence. The planes did not seem to be breathing. I don’t know how long this chilling silence lasted. But, suddenly someone shouted:
- Glory - glory to Aibolit!

And he was immediately supported by hundreds of other voices: URRA !!! HE IS YOUNG! GENIUS!
***
Do I need to tell you how I spent the next four days in the Himalayas? Well, first of all, I counted every one of the planes. Now, each of them, despite their long stay away from civilization, could withstand the long flight to Gorgandia. And even the old Turan-135 felt unusually young.

Secondly, using the internal radio communication system, I contacted the lieutenant colonel and reported to him on what conditions the planes were ready to return. He promised to discuss this with his leadership, and by the evening he was waiting for us a pleasant surprise... It turned out that in Gorgandia they did not even suspect about the problem that has long been troubling the technology. But now, having learned about it, at the general meeting it was decided to start the construction of the largest and most modern waste recycling enterprise that has ever happened in history. Special temporary buildings will be opened at the enterprise, where technicians will be able to wait for their turn for processing. But, most importantly, everyone will be able to choose who he wants to become in his future life.

It was a victory. Me personally, and ours with the planes.
Four days later, we left the snow-covered Himalayas and headed to Gorgandia, where we were greeted like real heroes.

Epilogue

I returned home only three months later. It was very difficult to leave your new friends. But the lawn-mower housekeeper called me every now and then, informing me that the clients, headed by Karetkin you already know, literally occupy my house and do not want to look for a new mechanic.

For the next weeks I worked without raising my head. And he was so tired that he already began to think about returning to a secluded valley, located between the inaccessible mountain peaks. But, to my great joy, there was silence by Thanksgiving. My clients, as usual, have departed for the holidays, somewhere. And I have at least four days of free existence left. I don’t even know, I’ll probably go and sit down to my memoirs. I will describe everything for you in detail, starting from the moment Lieutenant Colonel Flash of the Gorgandian Air Force knocked on the door of my house. In my opinion, the story will come out right. What do you think?

P.S. For next summer I am expecting Kizi and Mukula to visit. I really want to make these guys really cool bikes. Or even mopeds. Only this is still a surprise. See, do not blabber. Shhhh ... ..

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Train tale

Lonely carriage

At the station, from where long trains departed in different directions every day, there was a lone wagon. His name was Mitya. He himself did not remember how it happened that he was unhooked from the train. As they left, the other cars held onto each other and shouted merrily to Mitya:
- Do not be upset! Someday we'll take you too!
But Mitya did not believe them. He just looked after him sadly and sighed.

Once a passenger confused Mitya with a train heading far away. The passenger climbed into it, settled comfortably at the window and waited. He waited a long time. He sighed and groaned. First he put his right foot on his left, then his left on the right. But, since Mitya stood motionless, the passenger asked him:
- Tell me, when will we finally hit the road?

Mitya sighed and said that he was just a carriage uncoupled from the train. The passenger excused himself and went to look for his train.
Another time some boys were playing hide and seek at the station. Of course, everyone knows that it is very dangerous to indulge in next to the railway tracks. But these boys were spoiled, and therefore, they were very happy when they found a lonely carriage.
The boys were hiding behind Mitya's seats, giggling, and this made the trailer not so sad. But soon the station attendant saw the boys and strictly ordered them to free the carriage.

It was an early spring morning when the young machinist Borya came to the station. The birds chirped wonderfully, the grass turned green and the sun shone softly. The machinist stretched sweetly, wished all the trains good morning and was about to get into the locomotive, when suddenly a sad Mitya caught his eye.

"What? - thought the driver Borya. "No one should be sad on such a beautiful day."
- What is your name? - he asked the trailer.
- Mitya, - he answered quietly.
- Why are you sad?
“Because I have been standing here alone for a very long time, and no one wants to take me to him,” Mitya admitted honestly.
- Disorder, - said Borya, and immediately shouted cheerfully, - Listen! Do you want to go with my train to distant places? An extra carriage will never hurt us!

Mitya could not believe his happiness. He was so emotional that at first he even forgot the words.
- Don't be afraid, - the driver Borya encouraged him, - my cars are quiet. They will gladly accept you into their team!
This is how Mitya found his train, with which he now traveled everywhere and everywhere.

Unusual fuel

Once the train, which included Mitya's carriage, traveled for a long, long time on the railroad, but the station still did not come across. The driver Borya has already begun to worry:
“If we don’t refuel soon,” he said to his cars, “we may not reach our destination.

All the cars began to carefully look around in search of some city or village. But only dense forests stretched around. When everyone had almost lost hope, the trees suddenly parted and a small village appeared on the way.
- Full stop! - shouted the driver, and the cars together slowed down, and then stopped altogether.

Borya went to the platform. A little old man with a white beard down to his knees, in linden felt boots and a shirt embroidered with bright patterns, moved towards him from the station.
- Welcome to the village of Lapotkino! - said the old man loudly and bowed to Bora and the whole train. The train hummed loudly in response.
- Hello! - said the driver Borya. - We are in a difficult situation. We are running out of fuel, and it is still a long way to go to another settlement. Could you please help us?
- Help? - the old man scratched his gray head. - Yes, what kind of fuel do we have? We haven't seen him since he was born.
Borya sighed heavily, realizing that, probably, they would not be able to reach their destination.

Meanwhile, Mitya's trailer, standing at the very end of the train, which had not even entered the village, admired the beauty of the surrounding forest. He saw that the entire forest floor was strewn with dry spruce cones, which all fell and fell from the trees. And suddenly Mitya had a wonderful thought:
- Boris! He shouted. - What if you fill up with these bumps?
The driver Borya looked around, and the old man remarked with a smile:
- Yes, we have a lot of this stuff!

All the villagers instantly poured out of their houses and began to collect cones. They worked together, and therefore soon everything was ready. As the train thrashed its pine-cone wheels, an unusually fresh scent filled the air.

The passengers clapped their hands happily, and the locomotive began to work even faster than before, and all the carriages, helping him, added speed. The train arrived at its destination on time, and Borya presented the trailer to Mitya with his first award badge for his special ingenuity.

Friendship can do anything

Once, in the train with which Mitya was traveling, there was a quarrel. No one even remembered how it all began. Much more important was the fact that now all the cars did not speak to each other. At first, the driver Borya tried to reconcile them. He came up with various funny games, sang friendly songs and used all the methods of reconciliation known to him. But nothing came of it.

The carriages were very proud. None of them wanted to be the first to put up with the others.

At this time, the train was on its way to a remote village.
The little car Mitya, who, as always, was the last to go, really wanted to help the driver Bor to reconcile the others. He was so lost in thought that he did not notice as the train pulled out onto a narrow bridge over the ravine. Here it was necessary to follow the paths especially closely. But Mitya did not follow, and therefore unexpectedly went off the rails.

And now Mitya is already hanging over the ravine, and only a fragile clutch with the subsequent carriage keeps him from falling.
- Stop the car! - shouted the driver Borya.
He jumped out of the locomotive and looked desperately at Mitya. But I could not approach him. The bridge was very narrow. Then Borya began to issue commands to the carriages:
- Have pulled up! Smooth running! Stop! Again, and amicably, once ...!

But the cars did not work smoothly, and therefore they did not succeed. The driver Borya stamped his foot:
- Because of your quarrel, we can't even help our comrade! If you don't make up right now, Mitya's trailer may fall and crash!

They all looked down guiltily. And the old locomotive who was the wisest said:
- Friends, forgive me if I offended you in any way.
The carriage behind the locomotive also said:
- And forgive me. I was wrong.

Each next car in the chain asked for forgiveness from their friends, and when they all confessed what they did not remember, the driver said:
- That's much better. No good can be expected from insults. Now let's try again.

After reconciliation, the carriages pulled themselves up, gathered and together pulled Mitya out.

Everyone was very happy. The train moved on to the intended station. And the trailer Mitya rode behind everyone and smiled slyly.

Guys, why do you think?

Last but not least

One day the train arrived at a large station. There were a great many passengers on the platform. All of them were impatiently clutching their luggage and were eager to get into the carriages as soon as possible.

As soon as the doors opened, people, pushing and overtaking each other, began to climb inside. When everyone was seated on the platform, some uncle appeared. He was already late, and therefore rushed so fast that the hairs on his head were disheveled and now looked like a weed bed.
- Give me my place! - Uncle shouted importantly.
- There are empty seats only in the last carriage, - they told him, and the carriage

Mitya happily opened his doors to his uncle.
“I don’t want to sit in the last carriage,” the uncle said resentfully. - I need the first car, or, in extreme cases, the second.
“But everything has been occupied there for a long time,” they answered again.

The uncle had to go to the last carriage. He sat down in an empty seat, looking around with displeasure and buried himself in the newspaper.

After some time, the train drove to the seashore. The wind rose, and mighty waves splashed on the sea. The windows of all the cars were wide open when one big wave came and covered the cars. The passengers sitting in them were wet from head to toe. Mitya, who was the last one riding, saw what was happening ahead and closed his windows in time. Only its passengers remained dry.

At the nearest station, wet and disgruntled people began to get out of the cars and pay favors to each other.

The late uncle also went out at the station to get some fresh air and only now realized how lucky he was. He went up to Mitya's trailer and said:
- Now I realized that being the last does not mean being the worst. Thank you very much for a wonderful trip.
Mitya puffed merrily:
- Puff-puff-puff!

Beware! Chestnut Fall!

It was a golden autumn. In autumn, nature seems especially beautiful. On the trees there are colorful leaves - red, yellow, orange. But green is in no hurry to leave this palette.

The train was going to the station long distance, through such autumn multi-colored forests. Everyone was in a wonderful mood. Some of the passengers in Mitya's trailer even played the accordion.

Suddenly, something hit the roof of the car with a crash. Once. Another time. And then it rolled like hail, so that Mitya and the other carriages began to shout:
- Ouch! Mom! It hurts!

The driver Borya gave the command: "Full speed back!"
When the train rolled back, the shelling stopped.
- What is it? - the passengers asked each other in surprise.

The driver Borya stood on the step of the train and looked carefully ahead. Only now he began to understand “who” it was at them. Chestnut trees grew on either side of the train tracks. Ripe, heavy chestnuts hung from them like apples on a branch. From the loud clatter of the train wheels, the earth, and with it the trees, began to move, and the chestnuts fell.

Borya was about to slip through the dangerous place one more time, but the cars protested:
- We will not go! We don't want to pack a hundred bumps at once!
The driver, and with him the passengers, were at a loss. Will they really have to stand here like this until winter and wait for all the chestnuts to fall?

But then the trailer Mitya suggested:
- Let's go for squirrels? They probably need to stock up for the winter.

Let them make their own blanks here at once.
A biologist who knew the language of squirrels was just in carriage number three. He volunteered to be a translator, and an hour later the train, led by the driver Borey, brought so many squirrels from other stations that the passengers sitting in the carriages had to make room. Squirrels instantly pounced on the delicacies and hammered their baskets to overflowing. Not a single overripe chestnut was left! Then they were taken home, and the train safely continued its journey.

Mitya's carriage received another badge for his special ingenuity.

Caution cows

One day, driving through the evergreen alpine meadows, the train ran into cows. The animals stood right on the rails and chewed juicy young grass. When the driver Borya blew his whistle, the cows just raised their heads in surprise, as if wanting to check who was bothering them.
They grunted angrily:
- Moo-oo-oo-oo!
But they did not leave the road.

“We’ll have to wait until the cows leave by themselves,” sighed the driver Borya. - If passengers find out about this, they will write a complaint.

Mitya's wagon really didn't want the passengers to complain. And then he said loudly:
- Eh! What a beauty all around! How many flowers and medicinal herbs! And what a clean air here! What a pity that we cannot make a short stop and stay here longer.

The passengers heard him, and some uncle said:
“Indeed, it would be very nice to stay in these alpine meadows for at least an hour.

And some old woman sighed:
- I have never walked in such beauty in my life. Maybe I won't go for a walk anymore.
And some children began to be capricious:
- Ho-tim gu-lyat! Ho-tim go-lyat!

And their parents cried too. All passengers began to ask the driver to make a stop at such a wonderful place at least for a short while. And of course, the driver Borya replied that they can walk as long as they want. And he kept silent about the fact that the train cannot pass at all because of the cows.

The passengers walked until late at night, and returned only when the cows went to bed. And everyone was very happy.

Unusual passengers

It was in September. All the children went to school, and one collective farm decided to transport its horses far, far south, to a resort. Because animals, after all, too, should have a rest at the resorts!
One day, the machinist Borya came to the station to his train and saw: horses were sitting in the carriages, their muzzles stuck out of the windows and breathing fresh air.
- What is this? He asks.
- This, - they answer him, - your new passengers. - Take them south to the resort. Look, don't forget to graze along the road. Because horses need to eat.
The driver got into his locomotive and drove off:
- Tu-tu-u-u-u-u! The train hummed cheerfully.
- Hoo! The horses whinnied in response.

Now, time passes, the horses are not happy. They are not used to the railway. The smell of the train and the shaking makes them rocking. Began to ask for a stop. Nothing to do, they were stopped. Horses were afraid, then again on the carriages and on the way. Just drove off - they ask for a stop again. And so a hundred times.
- Well, - says the driver, - so we won't cook porridge with you. By winter you will get to your south.

Then the trailer Mitya offers:
- Since the horses feel bad in the carriages, let them ride on the roof. There, the air is fresh and you can pick off the leaves from the trees when we go through the forest.
The driver liked this idea very much. They put all the horses on the carriages, tied them with ropes so that they would not fall, and drove off. Not very fast, but not as slow as with all the stops.
We arrived south on time. Mitya was praised again.

Train Day

There are important holidays in the world. New Year, for example, or Birthday. There are special holidays - Doctor's Day, Teacher's Day, Policeman's Day. Only the Day of the Train is missing. But if you think that the work at the trains is easy - ride wherever you want all year round, enjoy the views - then this is not at all the case! What is a train? That's right - the wagons and the locomotive. And also a machinist, but he has his own holiday - the Day of the Railwayman is called. The carriages carry passengers, make sure that everyone likes everything, does not pump too much, does not blow, so that no one misses their station. Instead of carriages, for example, there would be carts on a string or sledges - that's a completely different story. And the cars are CARS. They are important!

Once at the depot, during a long break, the carriages were talking:
- Why is it they never congratulate us? - said one car.
“And in fact, they give others gifts, and praise them with kind words, and wish for something there, but we are always on the sidelines,” others said.
Someone suggested - let's be offended and not go to work until we are also congratulated?

Everyone liked this idea very much, and from that moment the cars decided to go on strike.

Mitya's carriage was sad because the train did not go anywhere the next day. He loved his job very much, but even more he loved the kind machinist Boria, who would certainly be very upset when he hears about the strike.

And then Mitya came up with the idea of ​​arranging a big holiday for his comrades, and calling it the Day of the Train.

Some especially grateful passengers agreed to help him. They drew big greeting posters, bought firecrackers and balloons. And at night, when all the cars were asleep, the passengers came with rags and buckets and cleaned the floors, windows and even the walls of the whole train. In the morning everything shone with purity.
The cars woke up, and they were shouting from all sides:
- Congratulations! Happy Train Day !!! Urrra !!!

It was such a joy! Everyone was happy and the strike ended immediately.

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TALE I'm running Mitenka! I'm running!

Little Mitenka was walking with his grandmother on the playground. Other guys also walked here. Each of them had their own car. Mitya has a small toy truck. The guys lowered cars from the children's slide, filled them with sand, small twigs and pebbles, rolled the cars along a predetermined track and then dumped the loads into a common heap. It was really great. Until the wheel fell off Mitenka's car. The strong man sat down on the ground and roared at the top of his voice:

- Boo boo! Boo boo!

A lively granny in a flowered kerchief jumped up to the shout from the bench:
- I'm running, Mitenka! I'm running! - shouted the old woman.
She rushed to help her grandson and in the blink of an eye, repaired the broken wheel. Mitenka began to play further.

For now, the third grader Mitenka is riding his bike around the yard surrounded by friends. He's having so much fun, the wind blowing his curly red hair. Somewhere stray dogs are barking loudly, but the boys don't care, because they have holidays - the most fun and carefree time in the world.

Suddenly, a wheel falls off Mitya's bicycle. The boy stops and shouts at the top of his lungs in a melodious, sonorous voice:
- Granny! Granny!

An old woman's head in a colorful kerchief protrudes from the window of a neighboring house:
- I'm running, Mitenka! I'm running! - she screams, and a second later with a screwdriver and some other tongs, grandmother jumps out of the gate of her house. She bends down briskly and screws the fallen off wheel back onto the bike. Mitenka sits on it and goes on to catch up with her comrades.

Now Mitenka is already quite an adult. He is a technical student. He has a handsome bushy mustache, a studded black biker jacket, a shiny helmet and sunglasses. And Mitenka himself rushes faster than the wind on his two-wheeled motorcycle. Suddenly, the motorcycle begins to puff, roar and snort: Puff-puff-puff-frrrrrr ... It seems that its engine has stalled. But it doesn't matter. Mitya clears her throat and shouts in a loud bass all over the street:

- Granny! Granny!
- I'm running, Mitenka! I'm running!

An old woman in a flowered kerchief and a set of special tools in the bargain immediately jumps out onto the road. She runs up to the motorcycle and rolls up her sleeves, starts jerking around in it with some screwdrivers, tweezers and other useful gizmos. Not even an hour passes when the motorcycle is on the move again, and Mitenka, as before, rushes on it into unknown distances.

Now Mitenka is a hefty pot-bellied guy in a formal suit with a diplomat. He drives his brand new Mercedes to a very important business meeting. But suddenly, Mitenka's car stalls. What a bad luck! So after all, you may not be in time for a meeting! Mitya gets out of the Mercedes, looks sadly at the wheel and yells in a rude male voice:

- Granny! Granny!

Out of nowhere, a grandmother appears in a colorful headscarf:
- I'm running, Mitenka! I'm running! She screams and rushes at full speed towards the Mercedes.

Grandma is pulling a cart full of tricky things. How else? After all, a foreign car can no longer be repaired with a simple screwdriver! Grandma opens the hood and does something for a long time.

- Hurry, bah! - Mitenka - uncle urges her, - I'll be late for an important meeting!

- Now, now, - says the grandmother and shuruds devices under the hood even faster. The car is repaired and now, happy Mitenka is again racing along the road in his expensive Mercedes.

Next year Mitenka and his family are planning to fly to Turkey by the sea. Guess who he will never forget to take with him?

(Based on the TV magazine "Yeralash")

READ a fairy tale about cars

Sanya and Vanya sat on a bench and dangled their legs. They were very happy because the school holidays had begun. Sanya was eating Alenka's chocolate, and Vanya had already eaten his half and now he was just licking his dirty fingers.

Suddenly, a black car drove up to the house near which they were sitting. The boys had never seen such a model before, although both were famous connoisseurs of automobiles. A dapper boy jumped out of the car, seemingly barely eighteen. He slammed the brand new shiny door with a bang, and already entering the entrance from the back clicked the alarm button. The boys looked after him respectfully.

“Some are lucky,” Sanya muttered, swallowing the last piece of chocolate. - When I grow up, I will also buy myself a car. The coolest.
- And I will buy, - Vanya picked up. - Such that she drove herself and did not even need to steer.
Sanya chuckled:
- There are no such cars!
- Now it does not happen, but when I grow up they will already be invented. And in general, I saw on TV that they are already being tested.
- Well, where will you get the money for such a car? - asked Sanya with interest.
- How where, of course I’ll earn. Where are you on yours?
- And I will earn.

Then high school student Fyodor came out of the next house. He had headphones in his ears and a brand new game console in his hands. Fyodor managed, without looking to go down the steps, bypass all the ditches and potholes on the prehistoric asphalt and turn around the corner of the house without even looking at the guys.

Sanya immediately noticed:
- There will also be a game console in my car. All windshield. You press a button and instead of glass - a computer game. Racing, for example, or shooting games.

Vanya doubted:
- But if there is a prefix on the glass, how are you going to steer?
- So you said that when we grow up, the cars will drive themselves.
- Well, yes, well, yes, - Vanya agreed.
The boys sat for a while, and then went home.

At dinner, Sanya told his parents that he was going to buy a car for himself. Dad, in all seriousness, asked his son about the model, color, wheels and many other special things that only boys could understand. And then Sanya told about a game console instead of a windshield. The Pope approved the proposal. He only added that in such an intelligent and extremely useful car there must also be a device for making sandwiches, and a leavening mechanism.

- And a chewing gum-dispenser, - Sanya noted dreamily.

Mom, who had been silent all this time, suddenly noticed that it would be nice to attach a dining and at the same time an apartment cleaning device to this car, because now she is offended that the car is useful for everyone, but for her, mother is useless.

Sanya reluctantly agreed. But then dad said that he was happy to exchange his liquid filling mechanism for a money dispenser, which would probably be very small and would certainly take up less space than a dining and apartment cleaning device. Sanya wanted to add something, but no one was listening to him. Mom and Dad vied with each other to list everything that needs to be installed in his, Sanina's new car.

At night, Sanya had a strange dream. Vanya was driving along the road in a brand new black car of an unknown model. He looked almost exactly like the dapper boy they saw during the day. Sanya, meanwhile, languidly trailed after him on a hefty shapeless unit stuffed with a vacuum cleaner, a lawn mower, barrels of kvass and various other gizmos. Passers-by laughed and pointed at Sanya. He wanted to turn off the busy street into some alley, but he could not do it, because the glass suddenly turned into a computer game. Sanya wanted to slow down, but he couldn't either. The car operated by itself, without pedals and steering wheel. Sanya shouted loudly, trying to call for help and woke up.

The next morning they met again with Vanya at the site. An unidentified black car was still parked near the entrance. Vanya, with the air of a connoisseur, walked around her several times and said:

- No, the car is certainly cool, but only when I grow up I'll buy it even better. - Without waiting for an answer, he asked himself, - And you, Sanchez, what kind of car do you want? Tags

Tanya and I decided to build a car. You would think it is so difficult? Moreover, we already had serious experience in the design of equipment. I lived on the tenth floor, and she was on the ninth, and her room was just below my room. Now, since we took several meters of a rubber cord from my grandfather, stretched it from my window to her window, tied a funnel on each side and we got a telephone. And, I must say, he worked properly. Moreover, even home wired telephones with wheels were rare then. Only two guys from our class had such.

So, the experience gained during the creation of our own telephone DEVICE inspired us to more serious experiments. Just think - how convenient is it to have a car? Wanted - sat down and went, and no need to wait for the bus. You want to go to the park, but you want to go to the dacha. Freedom!
The main problem was not even finding the right materials. It's about deciding which car to design.

Tanya argued that for the sake of convenience, fenders and a motor should be attached to the car, like a helicopter, because the roof is closer to us. We'll make a runway there, get the keys to the fire hatch and fly when we want. But, I could not agree with such recklessness. What if Dad accidentally sees us climbing onto the roof? What if the neighboring grannies downstairs notice us and report everything to their parents? I really didn't want to spend the rest of the summer at home under lock and key ( even with your own phone!). As they say, a car is not a luxury, but a means of transportation. So we need to do this common a means of transportation to go out into the street, and no one pointed a finger.

There were garages in a former quarry not far from our house. Once, while walking there, we found an open no man's garage full of all sorts of useful gizmos. Of course, if all this belonged to someone, we would never and would never take a carnation. But, my friends, if no one comes to the garage after five, and even after ten minutes - therefore, the owner does not exist at all! In short, we rolled off two wheels from there, with grief in half. They were very heavy. And then two more. The wheels were dirty, so we had to hide them under the porch of the basement of our house.

Car wheels are ninety percent of success! It remains only to figure out what to put on these wheels, how to fix it, what to make the steering wheel from.
The original idea did not come immediately. Oddly enough, it was suggested to us by the four-year-old Vovchik, from whom we usually tried to hide anywhere, just not to bother with this small fry. Vovchik followed his older brother Sasha with his tail, and since Sasha studied with us in the same class, and even lived in the same yard, it turned out that we were walking in one big company without five minutes of third-graders, with Vovchik to boot.

In the evening, near the hill, a long discussion took place on the topic "The rights and freedoms of primary school students." Having embarked on the slippery slope of the automotive industry, Tanyushka and I believed that children should certainly be issued documents allowing them to drive a car. The other guys, as always, supported us. Someone suggested writing a petition to no one knows where. It was a great idea that we all quickly started to develop. And little Vovchik, who was hanging around as always, brought a cardboard box from somewhere, sat down in it and began to play:

- BBC! I am a driver! Disperse, people!

And then it was like lightning hit me! I looked at Tanyushka. She seems to have broken through too.
- Box! - we cried, almost in a voice and rushed to no one knows where.

More precisely, it is known. There, where we handed over waste paper every summer, next to the sawmill. There were many, VERY many orphaned boxes lying around. Different boxes. Big and small, strong and almost soft.

We almost immediately found a suitable one for ourselves. It was a brand new box, made of very thick cardboard. Such a box could easily fit me, and Tanyushka, and some other guys.

With this box we returned to the basement, where we left our wheels. We only had one hour left. Because at exactly nine, we were supposed to go home, have a mug of milk and cookies, brush our teeth and go to bed ( or pretend that we went to bed).

Since we really wanted to try out our new invention exactly today, we began to work very quickly. We found four strong boards, fixed a wheel on each side, crosswise to make a solid base for the box. With a stationery knife, we cut through the windows of the car, attached a steering wheel - a round broken clock from the wall of Tanyushka's kitchen ( by the way, that they already do not work, parents yet did not know) and rolled our creation into the light of God.

A true master should take criticism calmly. Therefore, when we heard a neighbor from the first floor window exclaimed: "Again these children are collecting all rubbish in the garbage!" - did not become offended. Let's wait until on Saturday morning she will be at the bus stop waiting for the dacha bus, and we will go on this ... that is, on this ... in short, on our OWN car.

The sky was overcast. The next day it was raining, and Tanya noticed with disappointment that the cardboard was getting wet from the water. But, like all girls, she immediately answered her remark herself:
- We need to take a big raincoat and cover our car with it. Then it won't get wet.

I didn't mind the raincoat.

We somehow pushed the car from the basement onto the roadway, climbed inside and barely had time to pick up our legs - the car rolled downhill.
She rode quickly. Much faster than you might expect. A fresh summer breeze blew through the windows. We felt absolutely happy! Probably, Gagarin was also happy when he made his first flight into space.

There were no other cars nearby. In general, there are not so many of them in our area. But, at the traffic light, there was still one Zaporozhets. He had brakes. Our car does not. The steering wheel of the Zaporozhets rotated in different directions, and from this the wheels rotated. Our car's steering wheel-clock also rotated, but the wheels did not react to it in any way. I don’t know what this whole undertaking could have turned out if two wheels of our car hadn’t suddenly fallen off at once. We were once or twice spun, but we managed to avoid a collision with the Zaporozhets.

Do you think after that Tanya and I got upset and went home? That's right, only at first they took with them two fallen off wheels and another two, which were also quite loose on the planks. We barely pushed them to our house. It was then that the owner of the nobody's garage met us.

... From that day on, I dream of moving to a big city. Well, judge for yourself, let's say the garage was not owned by anyone, and we accidentally took these wheels. Where did it come from, tell me, how did the whole district become aware of this two hours later ?! Well, how can you ruin the initiatives of young people like that? No, this is not the case in large cities. There, if you got somewhere four new ones ( as it turned out Tags

About how Racing car apologized to the Tractor

For a walk outside the gate
The hippopotamus was taken out.
The hippopotamus was very happy -
He smiled at everyone.
We fed him a roll,
With him we reached the alley.
And then let's go back
To feed your kittens.

One day the Race Car decided to take a walk. She drove out of the garage, refueled on gas, blinked her headlights and rushed along the road. She followed the rules of the road and complied with the requirements of all signs. She stopped at traffic lights and made way for buses and trams.
The Race car drove through the city streets and onto a wide country highway. The highway was long, and there were much fewer cars on it than on city streets. Feeling the spaciousness, the Race Car rushed forward. She accelerated more and more. It seemed that if you add wings to it, then it can take off. The racing car itself thought so, but, unfortunately, only airplanes have wings. The race car easily overtook other cars that were also on the highway. But they had a weaker engine and therefore could not race as fast as the Race Car.
The racing car drove past houses, forests and fields, jumped bridges over rivers and streams, winked headlights at cows and goats grazing by the side of the road. The sun shone affectionately, and the breeze played with the branches of the trees. The Race Car was in a great mood. Turning around the next turn, she saw a Tractor in the distance. He trudged awkwardly along the highway and pulled a large trailer loaded with cabbage. The tractor was in no hurry, it rumbled, puffed on its pipe and hummed its Tractor Song softly under its breath.
The racing car quickly caught up with the Tractor. He, on the other hand, seemed to be completely oblivious to the cars that quickly passed by and overtook him. The racing car drew level with the Tractor and said:
- Hey, iron snail! That it is you who can hardly weave here, - and the Race car laughed at its own joke.
- Where am I in a hurry? - Traktor asked Race car, puffing on his pipe.
“Don't you like the speed, the swiftness with which you can race, pushing off the smooth and even highway with your wheels! - exclaimed the Race Car. - The wind blows over you, in a moment you find yourself in a completely different place, far from the one that served you as a start.
- No, - the Tractor answered quite calmly. - I have an assignment to take this trailer, and I'm taking it. The road is good, the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing from the branches. The beauty! But you rush past all this charm and do not even notice that you have passed a spruce forest or a pine forest. White-barked birches look the same to you as telegraph poles, - the Tractor smiled and puffed his pipe again.
- Nonsense! - shouted the Race car, - You say so only because you envy me, my powerful engine and my fast wheels! And I can calmly admire the pines, spruces and birches where I will rush like a projectile fired from a cannon! - The racing car roared powerfully and lunged forward. She perfectly understood that the Tractor would not catch up with her.
The racing car wanted to show all its power and rushed at such a speed that even the wheels began to smoke. No sooner had the Race Car even run a little along the road than the highway began to turn. The turn was so unexpected for the Race Car that it did not have time to slow down and fell into a roadside ditch. The ditch was not deep, but a stream flowed along it. The racing car began to try to get out of the roadside ditch, but its wheels were sinking more and more in the wet mud, which was wetted by the trickle. The car tried its best and strained all the power of its engine, but the more it tried, the worse it got. The doors, windows, headlights of the car - everything was stained with dirt that flew out from under the wheels, and the Race Car did not manage to move. It was completely, the car was saddened and decided that it had completely disappeared in this ditch, it would rust and could no longer proudly race along the roads.
Some time passed and suddenly a rumble was heard on the road. The racing car recognized the sound of the Tractor engine and began to call him:
- Tra-a-a-o-o-o-o-o, a-a-a-o-o-o-o-o! Tra-a-akto-oh-oh, in-oh-oh-oh-oh-and-and!
The clatter of the Tractor engine was already very close, and the Race car began to try to call for help with all its might. Suddenly a Tractor appeared from the side of the road. He examined the sad picture, consisting of a huge muddy puddle and mud-splattered Race Car, threw down the cable and said:
- Hold on, but tighter.
The race car clung to the lifeline as securely as possible. The tractor rattled a little louder and began to pull away from the side of the road, dragging the cable and the Race Car with it. He calmly, without much effort, pulled the poor fellow out of the roadside ditch and helped to unhook the no longer needed cable.
The racing car looked in horror at the place where it had been kneading the mud with its fast wheels for an hour, and then at the Tractor.
- Thank you Traktor, huge, for your help! - the Race car thanked her savior, and then asked, - How did you manage to get me out of there so easily and calmly?
- Yes, because I am not intended to set speed records, but to transport and haul heavy and very heavy loads. So you acted as a heavy load, and I pulled you out. That's all, - and the Tractor puffed good-naturedly from his pipe.
- I understood everything, - said the Race car, and then added, - Excuse me, please, for those rude words that I said to you on the road a few hours ago.
- Please, - replied the Tractor, and then he said - Let's go!
The tractor rattled, hitched up its trailer and drove it further along the long and wide highway. And the Race car, slowly, went home to wash and repair.