began to dress, driven by Stepan's disgruntled whisper.

- Far to get to the place of fishing? - leaving the house, asked Cyril.

“Ten kilometers,” Stepan replied casually.

- How many?!

“Ten,” repeated Stepan more strictly.

- We will go by car? - With hope in his voice asked Cyril.

- Not. By the way, as a child I went to school every day seven kilometers there and the same back.

- Sympathize with you.

Cyril listened to this information without much interest. He did not understand why he should torture himself, he no longer needed to go to school, and besides, now is a vacation. However, he did not say it out loud.

“But do not worry, we will not go on foot,” Stepan continued, “but we will ride bicycles.” Let's combine business with pleasure, so to speak.

He got the bikes for himself and a guy who seemed to manage to sleep on the go. Stepan collected all the necessary supplies yesterday, all that remained was to fix them on bicycles, which he did without difficulty. Slowly, they rode in silence. Cyril wanted not to talk, but to sleep. Stepan wanted Cyril to enjoy the beauty surrounding them, to hear the sounds of the forest into which they had entered.

They drove along the forest road for about five to seven minutes, and then drove onto the highway. Riding on the highway was more pleasant, there was no hole, no pothole, Cyril began to doze, his bike wagged from side to side. However, they soon turned back onto the forest road and had to forget about the dream. Stepan, who was driving a little ahead, began to drive Cyril.

Having passed some more time along the road, they turned into a little noticeable path that led them to a small clearing.

Chapter 7

The clearing was surrounded by tall trees that stood for more than a dozen years. Gaped open spaces between the old trees, young trees grew here and there, taking advantage of this. In an attempt to break through to the light, some of them fancifully bend.

“You’ll still have time to stop looking, better help me,” Kirill tore off his impatient relative from contemplation.

Together, they quickly unpacked things. Stepan gave Cyril a bait and bait, showed the best place for him, where, as he put it, the big fish is very big.

The lake was small. The opposite shore was perfectly visible. In the place where Cyril sat, the water was dark, there was no deep bottom here. But on the opposite shore, the water brightened, clearly giving out sandbanks that stretched for several meters.

Soon they were sitting a few meters apart, staring intensely, each with his own float. Unlike Stepan, Kirill didn’t get on well, or he used the wrong bait, or put it on ineptly, only he didn’t manage to catch a really big fish. All the time I came across some small things pot-bellied, smaller, probably, there were only fry.

Offended by the whole world, Cyril began to think about how best to hold the bait so that it would not fall when he fell asleep. Apparently, it was about six o'clock in the morning, so another hour he wanted to sleep, or at least just take a nap. Soon he forgot about this desire.

On the other side, three girls ran out with a scream and noise, and they ran into the water. They were splashing and shouting joyfully, having fun. At first Cyril was slightly surprised, but a little later he remembered that the temperature has recently exceeded 30 degrees. The water was certainly not cold, which he was convinced by stretching out his hand to the water.

The half asleep Kirill did not immediately realize that he was still surprised. Looking more closely, he saw that the girls were swimming naked. The distance between the banks was small and the fishermen did not notice, they just could not. However, their presence of girls was absolutely not embarrassed. The dream disappeared like a hand, and Cyril with doubled attention began to follow the girls.

“She brought them hard,” said Stepan with a grumble, “scared the whole fish.”

- And who are they?

- Interns, - Stepan answered shortly and not quite clearly.

Cyril did not clarify anything, fascinated watching the girls.

“It's a pity there are no binoculars,” he muttered in a low voice.

- What for? - surprised Stepan.

“To make everything better visible,” Cyril replied with no less surprise.

“Ugly to spy,” Stepan said instructively.

- And now what are we doing?

- Watching.

- And what's the difference? - Kirill asked puzzled.

Following this rash question was followed by a small lecture of ten minutes. What is the difference between peering and observation Cyril did not understand. At first, due to the fact that Stepan’s arguments were convincing only for him, and later, Kirill’s attention focused entirely on frolicking girls.

All the girls were about the same age, the same age as Cyril. They were all slim. The tallest of them seemed thin because of their height. Cyril liked one of them the most tanned, the most harmoniously folded. A pretty face, thin waist, proudly raised chest, wide hips, perfect leg shapes. Cyril would not refuse to get to know her better.

Her friends had certain shortcomings, which, however, could easily be hidden under clothes. One of them had too narrow hips, and the other had small breasts. In any case, watching them was interesting.

Splashing a little, they began to wash. Lathering breasts, stomach and other interesting places, the girls did not stop fooling around, each of them animatedly commented on some of their features and features of her friends. Unfortunately, not all the replicas reached Kirill, who was upset by this fact.

After an intense and fun bath, the girls decided to swim. Soon they got bored with it, and they withdrew to the apparent dissatisfaction of Cyril.

He was so upset that he renewed his attempts to catch something bigger than the fish that he had come across lately. But, as if by a magnet, fish reached out to Stepan, who continually pulled out another healthy fish, while they bypassed Cyril. Having suffered a little more, the guy dozed off again.

Chapter 8

Cyril had the same erotic dream. He was with the girl of his dreams. And when he was again ready to merge with her in a single mental and physical impulse, a cheerful voice sounded through the whole forest, amplified many times over, heard, probably, even in the most remote place of the lake.

- Become on charging.

This was the last straw of his patience. Kirill reconciled himself with the harassment of fellow travelers on the train, forgave the bus driver for his abnormally furious ride, suffered disappointment when he was awakened in the morning (at 4 o'clock in the morning!) And dragged to go fishing. But now, when he was awakened a second time in the most interesting place, he no longer wanted to endure such mockery. Cyril jumped to his feet. Sleep is gone. He took a deep breath and how ... No, it was not an ordinary mat. His speech was bright and juicy. He used all the figurative turns of speech, which he only knew and several new turns of speech, which he invented in the course of his speech, more precisely, the cry of the soul. His words sounded disappointment, anger, humor, sarcasm, irony and many other emotions, with which he was now overwhelmed.

Cyril colorfully described the appearance of a man who has such an unpleasant voice at this time of day. He stopped at a detailed description of the appearance, noting that it would not hurt to correct some of the shortcomings of his appearance. Cyril opaquely hinted at the fact that, from such people it is necessary to do stuffed animals. At the same time, he showed such knowledge, as if he himself came from a kind of scribblers.

Making fun of the appearance of an invisible opponent, Cyril remembered the past, touched the future. Desperately describing both in the darkest tones, with a bit of humor and irony, he switched to relatives near and far.Describing their appearance, Cyril for some reason began to use zoological terms, telling their future, he summed up the original phrase: "... you are a goat, and your children will be goats, and grandchildren will be rams."

For ten or fifteen minutes, Kirill spoke without making a single pause. A little tired, he stopped, collecting his thoughts and trying to pick up even more degrading words and expressions. Stepan took advantage of the hitch and was silent before, but looking at the guy with interest.

“In vain did you disagree so much, this is a record,” he explained calmly.

“The warm-up is over, break up,” said a voice in satisfaction, after which he stopped.

- Where am I? - Cyril whispered, wearily sinking on the grass.

- How where? In Zagorje!

“It was a rhetorical question,” Kirill whispered wearily, clutching his head with both hands.

“Okay, it's time to leave, otherwise we'll be late for breakfast,” said Stepan decisively and added. - No matter how it was there, but fishing was a success!