A paper drum. A very serious announcement.
A Serious Announcement
Ren struck the paper drum three times.
The sound rolled across the square. A shopkeeper, two children, and a woman at an upstairs window stopped to listen.
Mika stood beside the drum with an announcement. She passed it to Ren.
“Is everyone here?” she whispered.
“Enough to begin. The others will hear us.”
Ren held the paper up to the light.
“The bridge will open today,” she announced, “at four o’clock.”
A cheer went up. The paper bridge had been closed for repairs all week.
The shopkeeper lifted a coil of ribbon. “I can bring the ribbon now.”
Mika smiled, then looked down at the folded notice in her other hand. Her smile faded.
The Wrong Day
“Ren,” she said quietly. “Could I see the announcement again?”
Ren handed it back. Mika unfolded the notice from the bridge makers and placed the two sheets side by side.
The announcement said today. The notice said tomorrow.
“I copied the wrong day,” Mika said.
The shopkeeper had already crossed the square. One of the children was calling to a friend, “Four o’clock!”
Mika looked at the board where they had planned to pin the announcement.
“I could change this before we put it up.”
“We can,” Ren said. “But some people have already heard the first one.”
Mika held the notice. “I don’t want them to think the bridge makers changed their minds.”
“Then we should tell them what happened.”
They checked the notice together. Tomorrow, at four o’clock. The bridge makers needed one more day to let the new supports settle.
Mika took a breath. “It was my mistake.”
Ren nodded. “I’ll call everyone back.”
One More Beat
She struck the drum once. Its paper surface quivered, and the shopkeeper stopped at the far corner of the square. The children turned around. The woman leaned out of her window again.
“We need to correct the announcement,” Ren called. “We gave you the wrong day. The bridge will open tomorrow at four.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
“Not today?” a child asked.
“Not today,” Mika said. She stepped forward with the bridge makers’ notice. “I copied the day incorrectly. The time is still four o’clock.”
The shopkeeper walked back with his ribbon.
“Will they still need this tomorrow?”
“They will,” Mika said.
“Good. I’ve already untangled it.”
The woman at the window pointed down the street. “My neighbour has gone to tell the baker.”
“I’ll catch her,” said one of the children, and hurried after her with the other close behind.
Mika crossed out today on the announcement and wrote tomorrow above it. Ren held the sheet steady while she pinned it to the board. They placed the bridge makers’ notice beneath it so anyone could check the date.
Tomorrow, Then
The shopkeeper took his ribbon home; the woman brought in her sheet.
Mika placed her spare copies of both sheets into the same folder.
“I’ll read both before we start tomorrow,” she said.
“I’ll bring the drum.”
A little later, the children returned from the bakery. Their friend had heard the correct day and was going to tell his father too.
“Will you play again tomorrow?” one child asked Ren.
“I will.”
“Twice?”
Ren rested a hand on the drum. “I’m hoping once will do.”
Mika laughed and closed the folder. As they carried the drum back across the square, its surface gave one soft thump against the stand.
Ren looked at it. “That one doesn’t count.”
Livora Gracely ♥
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