“Then we’re not discussing accuracy,” she said. “We’re discussing convenience.”
The company withdrew its offer. For a few hours it seemed that the library would receive only photographs. June was furious, though she tried to hide it while cataloging props. Lily found her in the workshop standing beside the stationary moon.
“I should have accepted the donation,” June said. “The children would have liked seeing it.”
“They can still see the model.”
“The model is small. The moon is beautiful.”
“It is. But it shouldn’t cost you the truth.”
Nessa arrived with unexpected news. The moon was not part of the developer’s collection after all. The theater had commissioned the painted surface from a local arts collective that had retained ownership of several movable pieces. Nessa had contacted the collective while tracing the inventory, and its surviving members were willing to lend the moon to the library.
June demanded to see the agreement. Nessa showed her the inventory identification and the collective’s confirmation. There was no dramatic confrontation, just a careful exchange of phone calls and signatures. By Friday the moon was being wrapped in protective cloth for transport.
Arthur heard about the dispute and telephoned June. He offered to pay for the display case himself. June said the library had already found a sponsor and suggested that if he wanted to contribute, he could volunteer for the tedious work of cleaning old hardware. Arthur arrived the next morning with a toolbox and spent four hours removing rust from brackets that would never move again.
Lily worked at the next table, sorting screws by size. They barely spoke. At noon Arthur looked at the row of cleaned brackets and admitted that he had always preferred designing a show to maintaining one. Lily said maintenance was the part that made it possible to have another show tomorrow.
He did not argue.
21. AN ORDINARY SATURDAY
On the day the library exhibit opened, a line formed before the doors were unlocked. Former performers brought their children. Old neighbors recognized themselves in rehearsal photographs. People who had never visited the theater came because they were curious about the enormous painted moon visible through the library windows.
The exhibit did not have moving walls. Visitors could turn a hand-operated model, but a clear guard kept fingers away from its gears. The mechanical stop was marked in yellow. A second display explained how the emergency system should have worked and why the original alteration had defeated its safety margin.
Benjamin stood beside the model when a boy asked whether the machine had hurt anyone. He answered honestly, then showed the child how the little wall stopped against its block. The boy tried it several times, satisfied by the simple click.
