Loads of boys appeared all at once, each filthier and more ragged than the last, pulling behind them dozens of sumptuous-looking kites.
We all applauded and said “Oooooh!” at the beauty of the kites. Everyone, that is, except for Granddad, who objected:
“Well, that’s a fine way to behave! Flying kites when you’re supposed to be practising your times tables!”
When the whole gang had assembled, the Secretary of the Union made us line up and, marking time, we all marched over to a neighbouring paddock and got ready to fly the famous kites.
Meanwhile word had got around Ituzaingó that a whole lot of important people were fishing for an elephant in the sky, which meant that an enormous number of busybodies began to descend on us to take a look. The schools proclaimed an official holiday, and various schoolteachers and principals appeared with their pupils. The priest also arrived, absolutely furious, having come to fetch his escaped altar boys. Kids on bicycles came too, and milkmen in their carts, gentlemen in cars, a dog with two tails, countryfolk on horseback and several sheep on foot.
Suddenly we heard some lovely music. Naturally, it was the Boy Scouts’ band. There was a volley of cannon-fire, and we all started flying kites.
We were so happy that for a moment we forgot that our aim was to find Dailan Kifki and the Fireman, who were shipwrecked in the sky.
The sun was shining brightly, and there was a lovely breeze.
There were peanut sellers, wafer sellers and ice-cream sellers.
In short, there was everything we could have wanted.
Granddad went off to sulk by the wire fence, grumbling to himself, but when nobody was looking he started flying a kite, too.
But he was so unlucky at it that his kite dragged him off and picked him up and carried him into the air.
“Ker-BLAM!” I said.
“We’re toast,” said my brother Roberto.
“Now what if Granddad flies off and we’ll have to fish for him, too?” said my dad.
Fortunately Granddad got caught on a eucalyptus tree and the Captain, with his ladder, went up to rescue him.
The moment Granddad came back down to earth, he started lecturing us on How to Fly a Kite.
Anyway, we worked all morning, and we were just about ready to give up because there was no trace of Dailan Kifki anywhere in the sky, when the Captain decided to climb a tree and look out from there with a telescope, to see whether he could spot them flying behind a cloud, or sitting, roasting hot, on the sun. We were already giving up all hope of recovering our astronauts when the Captain shouted:
“Haaaaaaalt! There they go! Fly those kites on the double! One—two!”
We were off in a flash. In our haste all our lines got tangled up and some of us knocked into one another with a real bump.
And that was when I saw them!
There, all the way up there, far away amid the clouds… There they flew: Dailan Kifki and the Fireman.