Tolo and Bolo sat on the escarpment and spat at the target. The younger brother, toothless Tolo, had a clear advantage. He was missing two front teeth, which is important in this sports competition. He was spitting like a champ! With precision and power. Bolo counted all the spits on his mobile thanks to a special application. After half an hour, Tolo was leading eighteen to eleven. It was late June afternoon, but the heat didn’t let up.
The boys were sitting by the canal, by the bridge, watching the ducks, dipping their bare feet in the water and waiting for their mother, who was about to return from work.
“Nuuda,” Tolo muttered and nudged his brother on the shoulder.
“My mouth is already dry. Maybe you could come up with something?
Bol sighed heavily. He had the same trouble with his younger brother. And now he was covered in red ants and he screamed so loud that the walkers almost called the police, and now he smeared whipped cream on his head, pretending it was hair gel, and now he drowned his wellington in the fountain. There was no way around it. Bolo often looked after his brother, because it was just the three of them living together: they and their mother, called by her sons Mamiś. Of course, if you don’t count the bitch Szprotka, a dog with a big heart and a small mind. The sprat was now running around the boys barking at the ducks.
– Tolek, calm down. Practice soccer skills.
Just don’t make a mess. Remember the last time you had an idea to dress up as a skeleton and scare the postman? Now Mommy has to go to the post office for every letter, because the guy is afraid to even knock on the door – said Bolo, wrinkling his nose.
“Noooo…” Tolo dreamed. “It was quite a hit. But it’s not my fault the postman is so sensitive. He should have nerves of steel. He never knows who he’s dealing with. People dress up as scary things, the little boy defended himself.
“For what, for example?” What’s so scary? Bolo wanted to know.
“Like fluffing,” Tolo replied, picking his nose.
– What? The older brother didn’t understand. “What kind of faflation?”
– How do prices go up? My grandfather explained to me that it was faflation.
“Man, Tolik, inflation, I think. This is called inflation. And you can’t disguise yourself as inflation.
“And I would try,” insisted the little boy.
They didn’t have time to argue for good, however, when Sprat started barking at machines whirring in the distance. Actually, two lawnmowers – big, yellow, noisy – and one backhoe.
“So what are they doing?” cried the elder of the boys, and jumped to his feet.
– I think they want to enter Lisia Górka with these machines. They’re probably planning to pave or pour asphalt there. Like near your school. But not wait! The little one spat through his teeth, this time in anger. “Bolo, come on, we have to stop them. Call Spratka, they can’t handle the three of us. I trained my triceps and quadriceps in kindergarten. Look!
The gap-toothed boy pulled up his T-shirt and flexed his muscles. Bolo glanced at his brother, who was barely taller than the bench beside him. One knee was scraped off, and there was a strawberry ice cream mark on his chin. He didn’t look menacing.
Bolo sighed and looked at Sprat the dog, a ball of patchy fur no bigger than a school backpack. But the team. He did not share Tolek’s combat enthusiasm. How would they stop the backhoe and mowers? Two boys and a dog?
At that moment, the brothers noticed a figure in a red dress on a white bicycle on the bridge. It was Mamiś on her well-worn Luiza. The bike had slightly worn tires and was a bit rusty. Mom was already smiling at her sons from a distance. At the sight of her, the boys began to wave their arms frantically, jump up and scream. The sprat bounced off the path like a ball, baring its teeth. All three looked like they had escaped from the circus.
– What happened? Mom braked hard and jumped off the bike. Has the volcano erupted? Have we been attacked by aliens? Were chocolate peas falling from the sky again? she asked, used to the fanciful stories told by her sons.
“Worse,” Bolo muttered grimly. – They want to destroy Lisia Górka. And our playground.
It wasn’t really a real football field, but rather a patch of uneven, grassy meadow at the base of a small hill. The boys have been coming here with Mamie ever since. When they couldn’t walk yet, she put them on a blanket and they watched the clouds that gathered over the hill looked like cotton candy animals. Tolo even cried once when his older brother showed him a zombie-shaped cloud. They used to come here for picnics. They played soccer and badminton. It was in the shadow of Lisia Górka that Mrs. Rysia’s favorite bench, the boys’ step-grandmother, stood. And here was a huge anthill that the boys photographed at different times of the year.
Wild wild strawberries also grew here, which they collected in a cup. For as long as they could remember, they called this place Lisia Górka, because sometimes, at night, a lone fox was said to come here, staring at the moon. The boys have never seen him, but Ryś’s grandmother told them about him many times. And she remembered everything, even the times when telephone headphones were on strings and you couldn’t carry them with you, and no one even dreamed of the Internet.
– Well, and besides, there is also Leon’s grave on Lisia Górka – sighed Tolo at the memory of the hamster, which he and his brother buried in the autumn on the edge of the meadow.
– Exactly Leo III, and before him Leo I and Leo II – added the elder brother. “There were three of them, Tolik, you just don’t remember.
– Triplets? Similar on the face? the little boy wanted to know.
– Do you remember, Mommy, the action with earthworms? This is where we dug them up on the edge of Górka – Bolo changed the subject.
All three remembered it perfectly. In the spring, Bolo and Malina from his class made a flowerbed at the end of Lisia Górka to plant melliferous flowers. Tolo helped them move the caterpillars, which fertilized the soil. He packed them in a pair of socks and transported them to the places indicated by the seniors. As a joke, he also put one sock full of worms in Mommy’s bag, which – for some reason – was later a big fuss. “Adults are amazingly nervous,” Tolo recalled, but said nothing. Instead, he suggested:
– I thought that we would go there together with Szprotka and we would raise various shouts, or we would lie down and the machines wouldn’t pass over us. Because boys and a dog are not equal ground for a lawn mower.
“I got an idea too,” Bolo said. “It has to be approached systematically. Make a plan, gather your arguments, be relentless. You, Tolek, are too fast, and this is not a computer game.
“Better a fast river than a slow pond,” retorted the little one, who was very fond of proverbs but never remembered any, and ended up making up his own.
“What did you mean by that?” Bolo asked.
“Er… well, for example: what the squirrel doesn’t look for, the hare won’t find,” Tolo tried to explain. “So you have to have a plan first.” I totally agree with you,” he added hesitantly.
Bolo snorted at hearing his brother’s wisdom. Meanwhile, Mommy hugged both boys and then looked at them carefully. Both the freckled and the fair-haired had very serious expressions. Tol’s protruding ears added to his spirit. Bolo, on the other hand, clenched his fists like a thoroughbred boxer. She understood that the boys would not let go of Lisia Górka so easily. She put Sprat on a leash and they all walked over to the workers in green overalls.
– We have a small request for you… – started Mommy politely.
– Do not destroy Lisia Górka and our pitch! her younger son retorted. – We play football here. And insects and butterflies live here. And frogs. And beetles. All our Leons lie here. In the grave – he lowered his voice and added: – Besides, Lynx’s grandmother …
But before he could finish, the bearded man in the helmet interrupted him:
“Wait a minute, boy. Where did you come from? And who are you anyway? the bearded man, apparently the head of the whole team, turned to the boys.
“Alright, I’m telling you.” We are Tolo and Bolo. Tolo from Anatol and Bolo from Bolesław – replied the elder brother, who was used to being constantly asked about their names. The school and kindergarten were rather full of Janeks, Kubuś and Tomeks. And their names were unusual. Mommy was especially looking for such names that would give her sons seriousness.
Because their name was quite frivolous: Nosek. “And Jasio Nosek, admit it, it does not sound as proud as Bolesław Nosek” – explained Mamiś, who also believed that the boys’ names fit beautifully in the sentence: “Anatol and Bolesław sailed around the world”. So she liked to say them every time everyone was getting on Grandpa Bodzia’s old Masurian boat. It would be difficult to sail around the world on it, but a small boat with a wooden board and sails patched many times was the whole world for the brothers.
The booming voice of a worker snapped the boys and their mother out of their thoughts. The man’s shadow fell across the gravel path.
– We have to mow and level the ground, because construction works will start soon. These are our guidelines – said the bearded man, looking down at the brothers and pulling on his gloves.
“You… what?” Tolo didn’t understand. – Stop it! Where will we play? Where to throw the ball sprats? After all, Lisia Górka has always been here!
“Besides, if you mow all the grass, the butterflies won’t have anywhere to hide from the heat,” Bolo added quietly.
Before the bearded man could reply, thunder could be heard. A summer storm was coming. The first heavy drops of rain fell quickly. Sprat licked her nose and shuddered. The worker looked up at the steel sky, which had suddenly become cloudy, then at the ready machines.
“We’ll be back again,” he announced sternly.
Fortunately, he didn’t hear Bolo say through his teeth, “So are we.”
Tolo and Bolo save the fox hill – cover promotional materials – Agora for children
Source: Gazeta
Bruce is a talented author and journalist with a passion for entertainment . He currently works as a writer at the 247 News Agency, where he has established himself as a respected voice in the industry.
