On Saturday Leo was carrying a big chocolate cake in a black bag to his grandmother Rosa's ninetieth birthday party, which was to begin at one o'clock sharp. On the same tram sat Hana, who plays the tuba in an orchestra. Her tuba traveled in a large black case, and her concert, by a cruel coincidence, was also to begin at one o'clock.
The tram was packed, and both of them were on the phone. They put their bags on the rack, and when they got off, each of them took the wrong one without noticing, as people do when they are explaining something important to somebody else.
At half past twelve Hana opened her case backstage and found a cake and a card: "For Rosa, 90 today. Call Leo." At that very moment Leo opened his bag outside his grandmother's door, with twenty relatives waiting behind it, and found a tuba. They called each other at once. "Do you have my cake?" "Do you have my tuba?" They agreed to meet at the fountain in the old square at ten to one.
Leo ran across the city with the tuba on his back, and a street musician, taking him for a colleague, threw him a coin. Hana ran with the cake held out in front of her like a sleeping baby. They swapped bags at the fountain, out of breath, the cake a little crooked. "Sorry about the cream," said Hana. "Sorry about the tuba," said Leo. "I blew it once. It sounded like a sad cow."
At one o'clock exactly Hana played her first deep note, and the conductor sniffed the air. "Why does it smell like a bakery?" Across town Leo walked in with the cake, and the whole family sang. "In ninety years," said Rosa, "I never had such fun. Next year I want a tuba too."
