The next day I woke up happier because I knew I would be able to go to the playground and play with the other kids. My mother sent me out to get some bread again, but this time I bought a nice, soft and even somewhat warm loaf, so when I came back my mother didn’t scold me, she even kissed me.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’ll go play with my friends,” I said.
“Alright, but be careful, don’t go the playground, you can fall there,” she warned me, as if she knew I were going to the playground.
“Yes” I said, and left the house.
When I got there, Bistra and Moni were already on the swings, while Bistra’s little sister was sitting nearby, shouting at the top of her lungs.
“My turn, my turn!” she screeched, while Bistra and Moni went up into the air and back down, showing off that they knew how to swing.
“Wait a minute!” Bistra screamed back, while her sister jumped up and down impatiently, or ran up in front of the swing, only to run away when Bistra would come swinging back.
Milan was there, too. He was dangling from the bridge and walking on its bars.
“Is the bridge dry?” I said, trying to show that I already knew of the news.
“What do you think?” Milan shot back.
I touched the bridge and really it was still a bit sticky, but only if you pressed your hand on it harder.
“It’s still sticky,”I told him, “Yesterday the men who came told me to tell the other kids not to climb the bridge, because they’d get dirty and spoil the new paint.”
“So what?” said Milan and continued to dangle on the bridge, “Petar stained his clothes yesterday, ha ha ha!” he giggled.
I saw that the bridge was not as smooth as it was when the two men painted it the day before; there were places where it was rough, places where hands had stuck on it.The mid-parts of the steps were the roughest, where the children had walked. I remembered the two men and how they told me to tell the other kids that the bridge had been freshly painted. I felt like uttering another small “aaaah”. It was my fault that the bridge was a bit spoiled.
I never liked Milan too much, so I turned my back on him and moved towards Moni and Bistra.
“Hey Iva,” said Moni, “Why didn’t you come out yesterday?” she surely knew my mother had grounded me.
“Because.” I said, “Can I try the swings?” I asked.
Oh come on Iva,” said Moni, “you just came here. Wait a little. Can’t you see Bistra’s sister is also waiting?”
I sat down on the sand and started playing with some pebbles. I threw them at the see-saws and listened to the pebble going “clink” when it hit the metal. Bistra and Moni continued to swing. When they would get tired, they would just talk and swing slowly, while the fat little sister would pull and shove the swing where Bistra sat. Then they would start all over again by taking wide swings. Finally, Bistra got off when her sister started crying very loudly. She hopped up on the seat and Bistra pushed her forward. The little girl stopped crying and smiled, exposing her pointy little rotten teeth.
Moni would not get off, although I was still sitting on the sand, waiting. Then, all of a sudden, Jasmina appeared from somewhere. Jasmina, Bistra and Moni were the same age. She came to say hello to them, and only looked at me. Moni immediately got off and offered the swing to Jasmina.
I got angry.
“Moni, this is not fair,” I gathered up the courage to tell her, but quietly so that Jasmina couldn’t hear us, “I’ve been waiting for you to get off the swing for such a long time.”
“Yes Iva, but Jasmina is older than you and she’s got the right to swing, not you.”
“What about Bistra’s sister? She’s younger than me and she still got to swing.”
“Yes, but she is much younger and if she doesn’t go on the swing she will cry, and this is why she’s got the right to swing before you do,” said Moni and turned her head, “but if you want we can play on the bridge.”
The bridge, which had always frightened me, now seemed even larger and scarier than before, because its color was so bright and red.
“Let’s see who can cross the bridge fastest!” shouted Moni.
I did not know how to walk across the bridge. I could do it only by crawling with my hands, but I couldn’t simply walk on it like the older kids. But Moni, Bistra and Milan could do it.
“Let’s!” Bistra and Milan shouted at the same time.
“Are you going to play or not?” Moni turned around to face me.
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to play with them, but I was afraid.
“No,” I said “I can’t cross the bridge.”
“I couldn’t, too, but I learnt! I couldn’t when I was little. But you are not little anymore and you should cross the bridge,” said Moni and started climbing up, step by step.
When she did it, it seemed easy. Her feet curved around the rungs, and she kept her hands spread for balance. To show how easy it was for her, she whistled as she went up. She got to the highest part of the bridge and looked like a giant. Then she slowly climbed down.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said.
“No, I can’t,” I said, as red as the bridge.
“Pfffff,” Bistra made a sound with her lips and started climbing up the bridge.
She was a bit less steady than Moni, but she still got up to the top and headed down the other side. Her feet also curved. I looked at mine. I was wearing soft slippers. I could bend my feet in them. I had tried climbing the bridge before, and it was easy the first several steps. Then, as I neared the top, I would get scared.
“You see?” said Bistra, “it’s not that difficult. All you should do is not be afraid.”
“Now it’s my turn!” said Milan and ran up and down the bridge. He was obviously the best. Not only did he cross it, but he could go back to where he had begun, crossing it twice.
“Come on Iva, let’s have a look,” Milan grinned his horrible grin. He had a gap between his teeth, and a flat nose. When he grinned like that he looked even uglier than before. “You’re not little any more. If you want to be a grown-up you have to behave you like are a grown-up.”
I don’t know how I gathered up the strength to move towards the bridge. Everything seemed blurry, except Bistra and Moni looking at me, and I also heard Bistra’s little sister and Jasmina swishing through the air on the swings. I took a step up and my leg shook. I returned it to the ground.
“Ha ha ha!” Milan cackled.
Then I raised my other foot, and then I did it again. I got somewhere near the top, keeping my arms wide apart. Moni, Milan and Bistra suddenly turned small, and the next thing I felt was something slipping under my foot, and Moni, Milan and Bistra disappeared, the sky emerging before my eyes instead. I heard only a dull sound, and felt pain, like from a rock, under my back.
Moni and Bistra were gone. All I could see was Milan bending over and flashing his ugly grin, even poking my rib with his toes, but I didn’t feel anything. With my staring eyes and gaping mouth I only wanted to tell him to help me, but I couldn’t breathe in, and he disappeared, giving way to the cloudless sky above. I wanted to call after my mother to help me, but I still couldn’t take a breath. This time she surely wouldn’t scold me.
Translated by Adam Reed and Rumena Bužarovska