Tavi paid for her own sandwich. Beck put his coins down beside hers before she could object.
“I wasn’t going to buy you lunch,” she said.
“Good. I wasn’t going to owe you an answer.”
They ate standing at opposite ends of the hall’s service counter. Onstage, two workers were carrying in the third door.
Online, Tavi gave people one difficult puzzle every morning. They argued about it through lunch. Some spent the whole afternoon deciding she had cheated. Her favorites were the ones who returned the next day to be cheated again.
Ern, who ran the town’s evening events, had paid her to make a version ordinary spectators could follow in half an hour.
She had agreed. She had needed the fee.
Now she disliked how easy the three doors looked.
Beck had won six of her online puzzles before anyone else. For tonight’s live game, he had bought a contestant ticket. Another contestant would follow him. If both found the right door, they split the prize money. If only one succeeded, that person took it all. Those rules were printed on the tickets and read aloud before the show. Each contestant could tell Ern the chosen door quietly. No door would be opened until both had chosen.
“Your famous final,” Beck said, looking toward the stage.
“An exhibition.”
“You put FINAL on the poster.”
“Final exhibition.”
Ern came over with two cups of water. He set them down without paying for either sandwich.
“We finish at nine,” he said. “My crew goes home at nine fifteen.”
Tavi pointed to the doors. “I could add one small rule.”
“You could not.”
“The audience expects difficulty.”
“The audience expects to understand what they’ve paid to see.”
He left the water and went back to helping lift the middle door.
Tavi watched him. She had made the correct door ridiculously easy to find. Given time and the plain wording, most people would find it. But there were other things she could make difficult: a ticking clock on the screen, her voice, the fear of looking foolish.
She took another bite of her sandwich and considered Beck.
Beck’s husband called while the seats were filling.
“Have you packed the bicycle bags?” Lio asked.
“Mostly.”
“Which means no.”
“It means mostly.”
They were leaving for their cycling holiday on Friday. Rooms and boat tickets were already paid for. Winning tonight could turn the first night’s cheap bunk room into a place with a bath.
Lio did not care much about the bath. He cared about actually leaving on Friday. The previous year Beck had stayed home for the final round of another competition, and Lio had gone on a shorter trip alone.
“I’ll be back to pack tonight,” Beck said.
“You don’t have to win before we can go.”
“I know.”
He did know. Still, he liked the thought of winning.
At the stage steps, a small practice board displayed the same three door labels that would appear in the game. Exactly one label was true. A token lay behind one door.
A said: THE TOKEN IS NOT BEHIND A.
B said: THE TOKEN IS BEHIND A.
C said: THE TOKEN IS NOT BEHIND C.
Beck glanced at the two NOTs and thought B. He said it before he’d finished reading.
A worker carrying a cable stopped beside him.
“Then two labels would be true,” she said.
Beck read them again. The worker continued toward the stage, leaving him with his early answer.
He put his phone away.
Tavi began by giving the rules slowly. She pointed to the three real doors. Each stood in a wooden frame, far enough apart for every label to be visible.
“One token. Three doors. Exactly one true label.”
The big screen showed a clock. Ern started it at five minutes for each contestant. Tavi had wanted ninety seconds. He had reminded her of the paid brief.
Beck climbed the steps. A woman in the front row had the second contestant’s ticket folded over one finger. Tavi knew her as Wena, who opened the cafe across the square before most people were awake.
“An easy one?” Beck asked.
“An easy one is difficult if you think it isn’t difficult,” Tavi said.
Some spectators laughed. Beck looked at the clock, then the doors.
Tavi took a breath. “You must be very certain that you haven’t mistaken what isn’t false for what can’t be—”
“Let him read,” Ern said from the stage edge.
Beck faced Door A.
“If it’s behind A,” he said, “A’s label is false. B’s is true. And C’s is true, because it’s not behind C.”
He held up two fingers.
“So not A. That would give us two true labels.”
The woman in the front row unfolded her ticket.
Tavi watched her, then Beck.
“You don’t have to share your workings,” she said. “Just choose.”
“I rushed this in the hallway. I’m not rushing it now.”
“If it’s behind B,” he continued, “A is true, B is false, and C is true. Two again.”
He turned to the third door.
“So C. A’s label is true. B’s is false. C’s is false, because the token is behind C. One true label.”
“Choose, then,” Tavi said.
He stepped to Ern and named his door. He could have done that without saying a word to the audience. His shoulders lowered for the first time since lunch.
Ern stopped the clock with more than two minutes left.
“Choice taken. We open the door after our second contestant has her turn.”
Beck waited beside the stage. Nothing was moved to another place; both contestants faced the same setup.
Wena came up the steps. She had dressed as if she was going to supper afterward, not to face the maker of the world’s most maddening puzzles.
“Why did you enter?” Tavi asked.
“Because I’m usually washing up when you people have fun.”
The audience laughed again. Tavi waited for silence.
“Which door?”
“C.”
“You heard him.”
“Everyone heard him.”
“Is that your own solution?”
Wena looked at Ern. “Am I allowed to explain?”
“You have your five minutes.”
She pointed to A. “If it were there, the second and third labels would both be true. That’s too many. If it were behind B, the first and third would both be true. Also too many. Only C works.”
Wena named C to Ern. He confirmed that both had chosen it, then opened the door. On a narrow shelf inside sat a wooden token, painted gold.
Wena picked it up and held it toward Beck. He nodded.
Ern announced the split prize. Beck’s face changed briefly at the amount. Then he applauded Wena with everybody else.
By nine, Ern was folding the last table. The prize purse had been held for the show, separate from Tavi’s maker fee. He gave both contestants their agreed halves.
Beck counted his share while Wena fastened her coat.
“Didn’t you think you were helping me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You could have kept quiet.”
“I’d already guessed wrong once. Saying it out loud stopped me doing it twice.”
“What will you buy?”
“A bicycle holiday with a smaller bath.”
She looked puzzled, and he laughed. He called Lio on the way out to say he was coming home to pack. They could keep the bunk room. There was a lake on the first day’s route; a swim would do.
Tavi remained by the stage while a worker took the gold paint back to storage. No one had accused her of cheating tonight. Several spectators had told her they finally understood one of her puzzles.
She found that compliment harder to accept than she had expected.
Wena was still waiting for a friend by the coat hooks.
“I’ve got a better one,” Tavi said.
“Tonight?”
“Not a three-door exercise. A proper puzzle.”
“I open at six.”
“I can come to the cafe.”
“You can buy breakfast. You can try it on me after I finish the till.”
“You charge for thinking?”
“I charge for breakfast.”
Tavi considered giving her the first clue now, before she could escape. Ern switched off the stage lights.
“What time do you finish the till?” she asked.
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