Solo Heavy Lifting

[Saul Sticks]

Heavy Lifting 89th of Winter, 515 AV The weight of a stone. It wasn’t much as it was. Most men, even the weak ones, could heft that kind of weight with ease. Hefting it wasn’t the problem. Holding on to it was. While even the weakest of men were capable of single instants of herculean strength, holding up a constant weight pulled against one’s muscles, creating the slow burn that built and eventually broke the strength of even the most powerful men. Strength wasn’t all that was needed. Endurance was the key. Saul was keeping his pace steady. When he had arrived at the docks that morning, he had been sent back into the castle to assist a construction crew there, a job he didn’t relish. Construction itself wasn’t something he minded so much; he had done it before. It was the location he despised. Work on the docks was wonderful, even with the harsh chill of winter. At least out there, the air smelled like air, not like sweat and the stink of human waste. But he was being paid, so he went where he was told. The first order of business was to move supplies from the docks to where the construction was occurring. As he usually did, Saul went for the heaviest objects first. Either way would put him at a disadvantage at some point. If he did the heavy lifting while his muscles were fresh, he would tire early; if he waited, the building fatigue of the day would make him weary before he came to the heaviest loads. Somewhere early on in life, Saul had decided the former was the better of the two choices. The stones, though not overly cumbersome, did not lend themselves well to being lifted. Their sooth surfaces offered no grip, and there was no way to slip one’s fingers underneath to lift them. It took a few attempts for Saul to figure out how to pick up the stone, but he eventually devised a way. Placing his hands on either side of the stone, he pressed his hands toward each other as hard as he could. This afforded him enough grip to pull the stone against one of its edges and tip it on end. Once the stone was on end, he could simply tip it back into his waiting palm, then get a grip on the end it had been standing on, and stand up, being sure to lift with his legs. With the first stone of the day in his hands, he let his shoulders and fingers do the majority of the work. Contracting the muscles of his back and shoulders, he drew the stone against his body, allowing his torso to take some of the weight. He made his way for the castle, and at the end of the docks, Brat joined him. Normally, she was bright and cheerful and given to the persuasion of optimism, but lately, especially over the last couple weeks, she had become sullen. Usually, she would be the one to carry on an entire conversation for the two of them, but today, she didn’t speak at all. Instead, she just fell in beside Saul and plodded into the castle with him. Finally, Saul couldn’t take her silence any longer. “What’s got you so quiet, Brat? What’s on your mind?” She shrugged. “Nothing.” “That’s not true.” Brat glared at him. “You calling me a liar, Uncle Saul?” “It’s not something I do lightly, but yes. I’m calling you a liar.” The stone had begun to slide toward the tips of his fingers on his left hand, so he propped it with his knee, found his grip again, and continued on. Brat huffed, then sighed. “You’re right.” She went silent again, frustrating Saul even further. He remained as patient as he could. “Well, if you don’t want to talk about whatever it is, you don’t have to.” He hoped she would. He was worried about her. When they were nearly to where Saul was supposed to take the stone, Brat burst out. “I hate it here, Uncle Saul. It’s so closed in it makes it hard to breathe. The entire place stinks like shit, and it feels like it’s trying to suffocate you. I hate it.” Saul already knew she didn’t like Syliras, but he didn’t realize how much. “I’m sorry, Brat. I know you didn’t have much choice in coming here. I thought it would be best, but I’m beginning to regret the decision myself. I should’ve asked you. You would’ve set me straight, talked some sense into me.” “Damn right, I would’ve.” She smiled. There were two things almost guaranteed to improve a Sticks’ mood: cussing and decking someone. There was no one around worth punching, so Brat had gone with the first. Getting her displeasure heard had made her a little more at ease. She hated it here. He knew that; he just hoped she didn’t hate him being the one who brought her. She had shown so much resilience already. Saul hoped she could show some more, but the first few seasons had already tested her patience. Even her optimism had its limits. The steady onslaught of this city was wearing her down. Saul set the stone down and stretched his shoulders and arms. Already, his forearms were beginning to burn. The weight of a stone.

[Saul Sticks]

The weight of a stone. Two and a half hand breadths by three hand breadths by five hand breadths. In the grand scheme of things, it was inconsequential, but to Saul, its size and its weight were all that seemed to matter at the moment. He was on the twentieth stone. Brat had gone off to enjoy the free air of the docks, but she rejoined him now. “You don’t have to follow me into the castle.” He drew his shoulders back and lifted the stone with his arms to rest it higher on his stomach. “Somebody’s gotta keep you outta trouble.” As a Knight passed them in a narrow hall, Brat ducked behind Saul to make room. “Besides, I kinda like you.” She paused to think about it. “Well, at least, I like you better than anyone else in this city.” Saul laughed. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.” Brat waited for the Knight to get out of earshot. “Of all the smells in this city, the Knights are the worst.” Saul laughed again. Brat had felt offended by the first Knight she had encountered on their first day in the city and, ever since, insulted them every chance she could, under her breath or out of their hearing, of course. While she tended to mock them more than they deserved, Saul had to agree on this occasion. Even in the winter, their armor accumulated sweat, enough to make them noticeable. “Yeah. Just don’t let them catch you saying it.” Brat rolled her eyes, annoyed by his lecturing. Saul had never been good at getting her to respect authority, himself included. Saul continued through the halls, shifting the weight of the stone about so the sorest of his muscles could get momentary rest. When he arrived at the construction site, he found it in complete disarray. Nothing had started yet. The workers were still waiting for instructions. It only took a moment of watching; then, it was easy to see why. Some idiot had decided where one architect was good, two must be better. Blocking the door to the apartment to be renovated, the two men in charge of the operation were bickering back and forth as to how the building should proceed. One was throwing large words around, architectural lingo regarding shapes and light. Glancing up and down the hall in both directions, Saul shook his head. He didn’t know what light the man was talking about; they were in the middle of the castle, far from any windows and the natural light of the sun. Saul wasn’t sure the man knew what he was talking about. Not that he would know; the architectural terms were ones he had never heard before. The second man on the other hand was using everyday terms to explain what he thought should be happening. Of the two, Saul trusted him more. He’d always found that the individuals who were best at their crafts could explain it simply. They didn’t need complicated terms to confound other. Rather, they used the surety of their knowledge to ensure others. It was understanding, not confusion, that made them the trusted masters of their jobs and gave them the confidence of others. Saul wasn’t about to get involved. He didn’t want to be. Setting the stone down, he made a hasty retreat with Brat, so no one could pull him into any unwanted arguments or extra work. Brat was still complaining as they walked away. “Honestly. Isn’t there something they can do about the smell?” “I’ll tell you what, Brat. If I manage to have some extra money at the end of the season, we’ll see what we can do about making at least our home smell a little better. Alright?” “You promise?” “Do I ever lie to you?” “You lie to others all the time.” That was fair point. Accepting that fact, Saul moved on. “Yeah, but do I ever lie to you?” Brat thought about it a moment, then hesitantly answered. “No.” “If I say I’ll do it, I’ll do it. If we have the coin.” Brat smiled. It wasn’t much, just a small gesture. In the grand scheme of things, it was inconsequential, but to Brat, it was all that mattered at the moment. For that reason, it was all that mattered to Saul.

[Saul Sticks]

The weight of a stone. It was his final one. He knew men who seemed to gain an extra surge of strength knowing that the end of their work was near. Some attributed it to having left a reserve that they only called upon when they knew wouldn’t need it anymore. Some said it was natural, that the body somehow knew when more was needed. Some said it was hope. Saul was not easily given to the persuasion of hope. In fact, Saul wasn’t inclined to it at all. He found hope a foolish notion. Just thinking something would be better or get better didn’t make it so. Hard work and effort were the agents of change. It was the last stone, and that made it the hardest one. It was no heavier than the others. As much as he was not given to hope and optimism, he also wasn’t given to pessimism. He was simply a realist. This stone would be the exact same weight as the others or very near to; his muscles were just wearier. Kneeling behind the stone, Saul placed his hands on either side and pressed his palms toward each other, the muscles in his arms and chest shaking with fatigue. Convinced he had a grip, Saul pulled the end of the stone up to try to stand it on end. It only rose a few inches off the ground before it slipped out of his hands and hit the deck of the ship with the hollow thud of something solid striking wood. “Shit.” That wasn’t working anymore. He stood to his feet and stared at the heavy stone, as if doing so would give him more strength or make the stone lighter. Shaking his head as he knew neither of those things would happen, he started to think about it with a touch of common sense. What he needed to do was use the muscles that had been used the least today, the ones that weren’t sore and tired yet. His back and shoulders seemed the least affected by his work thus far. Kneeling again, he cupped his palms around the far corners of the stone. He tightened the muscles in his back, trying to pinch his shoulder blades together. Slowly, the stone slid toward him until it hit his knees where it began to tip on end. With one final pull, the stone stood on end. Saul stood up himself and shook his arms loose. His forearms were burning and cramping from all the work they had already done. Looking about the ship and the docks below, he remembered there were still plenty more supplies to be taken to the site. Taking a deep breath and letting it out with a sigh, he leaned down, hefted one more stone, and made his way back into the castle. When he arrived at the construction site, he set the stone down on top of the pile of the rest and noted that still no work had begun. Still, he was glad that this part of his day was done. That was the last stone. One of the architects, the one Saul was convinced had the best design, approached him as he started to leave for the rest of the supplies. “We’re going to need those stones moved over to the other side of the apartment.” Saul looked at the men who had been hired to do the construction. “I still need to get the rest of your supplies from the docks. What about them?” “I need them fresh for when we start the building. I can’t have them wearing themselves down right away.” Saul sighed and went back to work. He lifted two stones at once. Hope didn’t give him more strength, but anger did. So much for that being the last stone.

[Saul Sticks]

Stone by stone, Saul continued his work. Stone by stone, he did what the half dozen other men could done in a quarter of the time. But he was being paid, so he did what he was told. Stone by stone until there was only one left. The second architect caught him placing the second to last stone with the others he had moved. “Why are you moving these here? I think it’s pretty clear where they go.” Saul shrugged. He didn’t think it was very clear. The architect sighed. “Across the room, halfway between the door and the far wall.” He said something involving architectural jargon that went way over Saul’s head. Saul just stared at him. The man sighed again and pointed to where he wanted the stones placed. “It doesn’t matter the reason. Over there will do.” Saul picked up the stone he had just set down. His shoulders, his arms, and his back all groaned and resisted the work he was trying to place on them. Of all of those, his back protested the most. Its injury from earlier in the winter had still not quite healed, and the weight of the stones was doing nothing to speed along his healing. He was just setting it down when the first architect showed up again. “What are you doing?” Saul pointed out the door where the other architect had just disappeared to draw up plans. “Your man told me I needed to move them over here.” Saul repeated the terms the man had used, not for a moment understanding what they meant. The first architect shook his head. “That only works with east-west facing windows.” He gestured to the walls about them. “We don’t even have windows.” Shaking his head again, he gestured back to the pile. “Move it back.” Saul looked at the stone, then over at the pile, and finally back to the man. “Alright. I’ll do it. But you have to set your man straight, because I’m not doing it again.” “He isn’t right, but he refuses to see it.” “Then compromise.” Saul hated suggesting it, because it wasn’t an option he would ever choose himself, not willingly. “Give in on something that makes no difference. Make him think he’s won on something.” The man raised his eyebrows as if the idea might work. “Not a bad idea. I’ll give something a try.” Saul watched the architect leave the room to presumably get an actual plan made for how this renovation would continue. Leaning back over, Saul picked the stone back up. Anger didn’t give him enough strength this time. It was a smoldering anger anyhow, more annoyance than rage. On his way back to the pile, mere strides away, he had to set the stone down four times. He wasn’t sure how he was going to handle the rest of the materials that had to be brought all the way up from the docks. He returned to the final stone for the final time. Sweat was dripping down his face from the exertion the shifting of the stones required. His hands were too damp from perspiration to keep a grip on the stone to get it upright. Stupidly, he tried hope; it didn’t work. He fell back to a Sticks family favorite: stubbornness. After a dozen and a half more tries, the stone was finally standing on its end. With a lot more stubbornness and a little brute strength, he managed to get the stone to the pile. He continued through the day, bringing what was left on the docks. It was a wide assortment from bricks and planks of wood to the mixture for mortar and the water necessary to make it. As he had done so many times before, Saul ploughed through his work, but one thing he couldn’t make it past was the smell. Damn, Brat! If she hadn’t reminded him so much, it might not have noticed, but as it was, the smell pervaded. He would face the imperfections of this new city as he did with everything. Stone by stone. It was a weight that, in the grand scheme of things, was inconsequential, but to Saul, it was all that mattered. They weren’t heavy burdens, but they piled up. Still, he could face them. Endurance was the key.

[Devi]

Your Grades have arrived! Saul Skills: Bodybuilding: 4 Endurance: 4 Interrogation: 1 Socialisation: 1 Persuasion: 3 Childcare: 1 Observation: 1 Philosophy: 3 Leadership: 1 Lores: Brat: Unhappy in Syliras Childcare: Noticing a difference in Brat’s moods Bodybuilding: Shifting weight to endure longer Injury: Saul will have suffered back, arm and leg pain for a few days following the work, due to the amount he pushed himself. Comments: Great descriptions of Saul's lifting and how difficult it is for him - exactly the kind of description I mentioned in my last grade. Well done! I'm also enjoying how philosophical Saul can be now and then and how his mental attitude fits in with his daily life. Let me know if you have any questions or feedback. Don't forget to edit your post in the Grade Request Thread to say it's graded and leave a link in there for the Storytellers. Happy Writing!