Plum

When I wrote the previous story, I remembered another similar happening. It ensued five years later. The situation is very similar to the "Cherry incident". But it's aggravated by the fact not only Manya and the ladder took part in it, but also an additional tool. That tool requires not so much the ability to maintain balance as much effort. Here's how it was.

Grandma (great) Manya and I met at the dacha as usual. And she, as usual, told me she'd another quest for me. Having greeted me, Manya immediately pointed to the veranda and asked, "Do you see the plum branch that hangs over the roof?"

"Yes, I see the branch," I admitted, feeling a trick.

"She's knocking," she said, looking expressively into my eyes.

"What's she doing?" I asked with sincere interest.

"It's broken, almost dry and knocking on the roof," the great-grandmother explained patiently. She made a little pause and played it all card-up. "She needs to be cut down. I have a saw."

Having said this, Manya immediately headed to the shed. She noise around there with something for a while and then returned, shining like a copper basin. She had an old rusty saw in her hand. I took a breath to think about my following speech.

"First of all, you can't chop off anything with this saw because you could end up without a hand," I gave my first argument. "Secondly, how do you imagine this process? We don't have a long ladder."

The great-grandmother looked at the saw, then at me and thought.

"You can climb up the short ladder to the roof of the veranda," she shared her plan, as reliable as a Swiss watch. She deliberately ignored my attack on the tool, "You can sit there and saw off the branch."

"I can't sit there, Grandma," I said slowly.

"Why?" Manya asked with exaggerated surprise.

"Because the roof won't support me," I showed miracles of patience in this dialogue.

Grandma (great) went into the shed. She offendedly hugged the saw to herself, protecting it from my comments. I want to tell you I wasn't trying to avoid cutting the branch. But I wasn't going to work under the proposed circumstances. The roof really wouldn't have supported me. Once upon a time, my great-grandfather built this house, and nothing has changed there since then. Partly, by the way, because my great-grandmother didn't allow anything to be changed there. The roof was made of slate sheets and wasn't intended for adults to crawl on. So, I'd another plan. I was going to borrow a long ladder and a sharp saw from a neighbour, put the ladder against the side of the house and cut the branch a little closer to the trunk than if I'd climbed onto the roof. That scenario I proposed to Manya when she finally looked out of the barn to check if I'd changed my mind.

"I agree with this approach," she agreed instantly.

I should have paid attention to this sudden pliability. But I was glad we'd come to a common denominator. So, I missed the main thing: Grandma (great) Manya never gives up so effortlessly. However, we agreed I'd go to the beach, and when I returned, I'd ask our neighbour for a ladder and a saw. I confess I'd an even more extensive plan. I hoped the neighbour would offer help, having learned what I wanted to do. Because I'll tell you honestly: chopping down branches isn't my favourite activity.

None of this happened. When I returned from the beach, Manya was resting on the veranda in a sun lounger and reading a magazine. An immense cut branch lay at the western wall of the house.

During the "interrogation", she said she asked a neighbour for help. But I'm an experienced investigator, so the "suspect's" testimony wasn't enough for me. Firstly, I examined the rusty saw and saw it had been used today. However, Manya shrugged her shoulders and said the neighbour had used it. Then I interviewed "witnesses", or simply put, I went around to all the male neighbours within a radius of three or four houses and found out nobody helped my great-grandmother today. But I found a woman who saw Manya on the veranda roof.

The case was solved, but what was the point? After all, Grandma (great) Manya had the character of a cat all her life. Does what he wants. There's no point in scolding. And, what's more, I'm the same. Guilty, your honor.