Point of age Bashny.Net

I was eight years old and my parents on vacation at sea. On the last day of rest, Dad bought me a plane. I vykanyuchival its entire month.
Dazzlingly beautiful, with screws on the wings. It had to be on the line to turn around and airplane, strekocha propellers, dizzy, ad nauseam.
We boarded the train. We caught the last car. I went back in the vestibule, and I came up with a wild adventure: that if the plane to bind to the train? Flight or not? I had a coil of thin fishing line. I jumped out of the car, ran to the end, climbed to the end and hastily tied to the door. At the last minute he managed to jump back and the train went. Initially, the aircraft dragged bouncing on the sleepers, the noise attracted the attention of two men on the platform, they appreciated a good thing in the long line and chased ... I was standing in a closed vestibule and nothing could help his pilot. When he was almost at the feet of others, man fell, going off course. A plane took off.
It was amazing ... Imagine you are eight years old and your train is flying the plane to an invisible fishing line. I enthusiastically watched him for hours, and at each stop, my heart pumping horse doses of epinephrine. Each time the same thing: the train starts to move, the plane rustling, people notice it, think, solve, start chasing. Apparently the length of fishing line turned out to be ideal, and any pursuers breathlessly behind wild curses, or - fell. One day, in the pursuit of my grandmother I set off by plane, leaving his grandson on the platform. Stragglers quickly. Every time I imagine that this is our pilot escapes from German captivity. In short, a day of our trip, the plane has absorbed so much human energy, which seemed a little light in the darkness.
This is the last stop for two hours before arriving home. Parking two minutes. Around the forest. I looked through the rails is patsanchik oktyabryatskogo age, breaking my psyche vicinity of treasures. So it is noticed. He rose and one jerk tore off the line. I felt that I tore the arm or leg ... He saw the plane and could not believe it, I do not believe it. The train started moving. A person always feels when looking at him, and when looking Medusa, feels all the more. The boy looked up from the plane and met my gaze. Three seconds we looked at each other and ... he went to the train. Faster, faster, caught up with the line already on the run, somehow tied my airplane naterpevshis fear, let go and waved ...
Since then, it took thirty-five years, but a noble deed in my life I have not seen.
To the rural Soviet, eight boy dropped the trophy THIS ..?
It was an extraordinary man.
I hope that now he is happy, rich and loved his family, because it is on a whale, holds a huge chunk of the world.
And the airplane, all in a grid of small scratches, stored in toys my son.