I Cannot Manage

Alice volunteered to build the school play's set alone and said in front of everyone that no help was needed. Three days before the premiere the three-tier frame leans under any push, and four people are due to stand on the top of it.

Alice volunteered in front of the whole class: the set would be built alone. A castle in three tiers, eight metres of frontage, three days to the premiere. The frame goes up fast and looks convincing right until the first push: one light shove and the top tier leans out over the stage. Props do not help — the problem is how the tiers tie together, not the props. The workshop master, Pal Palych, walks past twice, slows at the stage and carries on without a word. Two days before the premiere Alice pictures four people on the top tier from eight metres up, and the stubbornness suddenly costs more than it is worth. So Alice finds the master and says it straight: "I cannot manage." Pal Palych does not reproach her once — he takes a pencil, draws the joint on ply and explains why the tiers lean. They work until night: braces, ties, gussets. In the morning four people go up on the top tier and the frame does not shift at all.