Daniel--Old Dan as he was called at the work site--was no stranger to aches, pains, and illness. After working for more than 30 years as a low-level mason and laborer, he had suffered many injuries and inhaled enough dust to clog a mule's lungs. But even so when he woke up this particular morning he knew that he would not be able even to walk to the site let alone work. His leg, which had been crushed under a large stone block many years before, was playing the old "paralyzed" game yet again--but this time, it didn't warm up again after a few stretches. Or after a morning of struggling to hobble off his pallet on the floor. With a pained look in his old eyes he called for his wife and oldest daughter.
"I'm sorry Maggie, I won't be getting wages today!" he said it with a foolish grin, trying to find humor in it and put his worried old wife at ease, but it was no use. For all he knew, "today" really meant "ever again," and she could read it on his face.
"Bets--I need you to hurry down to the site and tell them I won't be there. I was slated to be on the lifting team again and they'll need a new handler as soon as possible."
Bets had been soothingly running her hands over her father's bum leg. For a moment he closed his eyes as if the numbness had gone away, but then they flickered open again as pained as ever. She got up to leave and headed for the door. Turning to her mother, she bitterly muttered, "You'd think after working with these builders over half his life he could get one day's wages on a bad day!" And with that she was out the door and running to the building site along the northern wall of town.
She could smell it and hear it before she really saw it. Sweat, stone dust, the clatter of tools and cursing calls of the workers. Other women may have been scared to go near the jeering, dirty men but Bets knew their breed too well from watching her father. She quickly marched toward the lifting team, looking out for the foreman.
"Who's this little sweetheart?" called out one laborer. His cry drew about 30 men's eyes to Bets, and she tried not to blush to feel them leering at her from all sides.
"Shut up Lovett, I just need the lift foreman. Old Dan won't be coming today. His leg gave out again."
She felt a shadow behind her and turned quickly. A broad, strong, dark-haired man was standing only a few inches away, looking down with small blue eyes and furrowed eyebrows. She gasped at his size, taking a step back. She'd never seen this man before, despite knowing most of the workers in the small town.
"I'm the new foreman. Old Dan was supposed to be one of our small hands today on the lift." He glanced up at the crowd of men standing around with a sudden twinkling grin. "But I'm sure his pretty girl can help us all raise some stone, eh?" The men snickered and hollered. Bets grew tense and angry.
"How dare you! First, you're content not to pay an old man who has worked so hard on this wall, and every other project, for decades, just because he misses one day! Now you insult his flesh and blood!" She was surprised at how confident she sounded, despite feeling so vulnerable and alone in a frighteningly large circle of men. She crossed her arms, partly to punctuate her point, partly to shield herself from their continued stares.
"Oh miss, it's no insult!" the new foreman discreetly gestured two of his biggest handlers closer. "And if you want those wages so badly, I'm sure we can find a way for you to earn Old Dan's pay!"
