CHAPTER SIXTEEN I — THE UNEXPECTED CALL

The next afternoon, I received a call from Howard Beck.
He said he wanted to discuss the future of the children’s arts program.
I told him he should speak to Nora and the school coordinator.
“I have,” he replied.
“They said you might know why the neighbors are still angry.”
I almost laughed.
“Because one of them destroyed my mailbox with a sledgehammer.”
“I meant the theater,” he said.
“So did I.”
Beck asked whether I would meet him at the school.
I agreed, provided Alisha and the coordinator could attend.
He arrived carrying plans for a small performance space that would use fixed scenery and simple lighting.


The plans were attractive, but the coordinator immediately asked who would pay for maintenance.
Beck said his foundation could provide an initial grant.
Alisha asked whether the grant came with conditions about naming rights or public appearances.
He looked surprised.
“We haven’t discussed those details.”
“Then let’s discuss them before anybody makes a promise,” she said.
Nora arrived late and examined the drawings.
“The children need a place to practice,” she said.
“They don’t need another building that exists mostly in a fundraising brochure.”
Beck folded the plans.
“What would you suggest?”
The coordinator pointed to the existing gym.
“Start by fixing the lighting and the storage doors,

” she said.
“We already have a room.”
Beck looked around the gym.
He seemed disappointed by the simplicity of the request.
Then he nodded.
“Send me a list of the repairs,” he said.
“I’ll ask the foundation to fund those first.”
Nora watched him leave.
“That was the first time I’ve seen him listen without promising a grand opening,” she said.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN J — THE NOTE IN THE WORKSHOP

Soren called me to say the carousel would be transferred to the review archive on Monday.
He wanted Ruth and Nora to see it one last time before it left his workshop.


We arrived just after lunch.
The model sat on a clean cloth beneath the skylight.
Soren had removed the dust without changing any of its mechanical parts.
Ruth ran her fingers along the chipped roof.
“My husband made this in the winter,” she said.
“He used to work on it after dinner while Nora watched.”
Soren handed her a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph he had taken of the model before the examination.
“For your family,” he said.
Ruth thanked him.
Then he showed Nora a short written description of the model’s condition.
It listed the missing horse ear,

the chipped paint, and the wear on the release lever.
“Why write down all that?” she asked.
“Because somebody will handle it after me,” Soren answered.
“I want them to know which marks were already there.”
Nora studied the description.
“That’s what we needed six years ago,” she said.
“People writing down what they actually saw.”
Soren closed the cabinet.
He looked toward the repaired front window.
“I’m glad this is nearly over for the workshop,” he said.
Ruth nodded.
“You helped us when you didn’t have to.”
“I helped because Adrian asked,” Soren replied.
“Then I stayed because I understood why it mattered.

”
After the family left, I helped him carry a heavy workbench away from the window.
We worked in silence until the floor was clear.