had to get up on a stepladder to reach it, but since he was so sure this was what he wanted to find, he moved the crate, pulled the ladder over, and began to climb. Second step, the ladder broke, and he ended up on his backside. Nothing hurt, so he got up and checked the rest of the steps on the ladder. They were seemingly secure. He tried again, climbed onto the workbench, and began jiggling the loose brick. Like everything else in the old shop, it, too, resisted movement.
“Patience, my boy. You are a surgeon, and you know what it means to be persistent.”
Finally, it started to budge. He continued to wiggle it back and forth, and alternately brushing away debris that fell as he wiggled. He sneezed from the dust, blew his nose, and got back to the task at hand. It took another fifteen minutes after it began to move for him to get it out, but get it out, he did.
“Aha! There you are! Something in there. Need the flashlight.”
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