Mag 109: the nuts and bolts of it

Coming to us today from Willow Manor, we have the 109th edition of Magpie Tales, aka The Mag.
Each week, a photo is posted as inspiration for writer-bloggers. There are no minimums, maximums, or rules for Magpies, just that the writer use the photo as a prompt. It might prompt one writer to create a poem, and another to post a different photo along with a story brought to mind by this picture.
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Here is my submission for Monday, March 19, 2012.
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Howard never knew why the operating system for the stadium's sliding roof had to be under the artificial turf. He only knew he had to get it working whenever necessary. It might be the middle of the night when a sudden storm threatened, or it might be in the middle of a ball game, when the fans needed to be distracted by cheerleaders, mascots, high school marching bands, performing poodles or, preferably, visiting rock stars.
While all available entertainers gathered around him to hide his busy-ness, Howard hauled on the giant bolts with his trusty wrench. He had been asking for an assistant for years, but the owner of the team, and the mega-corporation now sponsoring the stadium, both insisted the roof's secret never be revealed.
As he worked, Howard thought about the bitter truth: If just one cheerleader fell from the top of the human pyramid, creating a hole in the curtain of people around him, the under-turf workings of the city's favorite sports venue could be copied by a low-tech sports fan, and heaven help Howard if that ever happened.