March 27, 1995
When South Arkansas Art Center announced try-outs for “Witness for the Prosecution,” a play by Agatha Christie, my favorite author, I had to try out for at least a walk-on. I got the part of the prosecutor and discovered I was expected to build as well as act.
During the week, I memorized lines and went to practice. On Saturdays, I was expected to help at “work call” when we try to build the imaginary world that my mind creates as I read.
Since at home I leave building tools to my husband’s expert care, I figured I would be sweeping floors.
Boy, did I figure wrong.
“Do you know how to use a circular saw?”
No– but I did before I left that day.
The director, Donna Zahniser, assumes I can do anything. So I pounded nails, kept my fingers out of the circular saw, and used a “gun” to shoot liquid nails.
When I took my daughter along with me, Donna refused to let her sit, “Come on up here and hold this for me.”
As I squeezed out liquid nails, my daughter wandered over and asked if she could try. I never quibble with anyone wanting to do my work. She did as fine a job “pounding” those nails as I did. And the Styrofoam broke in a neat straight line where we cut it.
I looked up from taping corners at one point and caught her stretched up on tiptoes near the edge of a rolling platform reaching the extended paint roller to the top edge of the back drop flat. They began swaying ominously. I decided I better go over and hold them – while she worked.
Later I was minding my own business, not doing anything, when I heard,
“Cut this piece of trim to 46 and one fourth inches.”
“Right, I’ll take it to the circular saw.”
“No, use the hand saw. It will be easier.”
Me use a hand saw? Visions of uneven edges and stuck saw blades gripped me with terror. I knew how those things worked for me.
I shrugged. It was their funeral if I didn’t do it right. I’d told them
I did not know how use tools.
With my daughter watching, I grabbed the hack saw and cut the first piece. It fit.
I had just lined up the saw for the second piece, when she mumbled, “I want to try it.” I handed her the saw and steadied the wood as she pulled the blade back and forth, obliterating the pencil line and cutting the wood.
Jobs I am not even asked to do at home, people believe I will do at work call.
They actually sent me to clean up the brushes and pans after we painted. I am never letting my husband know about that. For years I have avoided the whole mess of paint, brushes and rollers. But, that Saturday I stood over the work sink as I squeezed and rinsed paint out of rollers and brushes and scrubbed the pans. Just like my husband did – all the times when I sat and watched him.
By 7:30 p.m. March 31, opening night of “Witness for the Prosecution”, besides learning my lines as the prosecutor, I will also have a gained hands-on experience with tools. Come and check out our play and the set before it closes April 4.