Menachem wouldn't tell her he was sure there was a couple of people out there who would have liked to have done the deed. "I give you my word, no one put me here. I just walked into it in the middle of the night. If I'm a liar, I'll let them finish the job another time!"

He saw the rope and wrapped his arms around it to hold on tight as his other leg began kicking at the stone that covered his foot. He winced but felt it shift enough he wiggled his damaged limb free. "Pull me up!" He looked up and started to feel hope again. Nothing brought him joy like that rope in his hands at the moment, he only hoped the smell was unrelated to its strength and it wouldn't snap.

Truth be told, she wasn’t all that concerned about whether Menachem deserved to be down there or not. She’d come back with rope, after all. God could sort out the messier parts.

She gave it a tug, felt Menachem’s weight on it after he called up, and took a step back. Leaned her weight to tug, taking another steadying step. Inch by inch, foot by-

SNAP.

“Well, fuck.”

The remaining rope slackened, dangling in reach. Anita came over and looked down into the hole.

“You alright?”

He was being lifted! As he was slowly going up, Menachem was feeling joy and hope. He was getting closer to escape and maybe surviving this nightmare. As he clung to the rope he focused on the growing circle of sunlight. Then, he heard the snap with no time to stop what came.

"SHIT!!" He cried out and winced, holding his head where it struck a rock on the way down. He blinked a few times, seeing some spots but they cleared. He didn't fall all the way down as he stretched out his arms and legs a bit the moment he heard the snap. Now there was a radiating pain on his back, but no numbness, well other than his leg but that had been there.

He saw the rope and took a deep breath to reach for it. "Give.. me a minute. We're so close.."

“It’s alright!” she called down.

Was it alright? No use fretting over it if it, well, wasn’t.

“You’re almost there?”

What? Sometimes optimism was a good thing, even if it was a little hard to believe in.

She shook the rope, and unwound more down into the well.

He saw the rope come towards him and sighed in relief. He gripped it in both hands as his head fell forward and he panted a bit, new pain rocking his body. He pulled up, this time bracing his legs on both sides even as more fire shot through his body in the damaged appendage. Menachem grunted and slowly tried to pull up and called out. "Pull!" His elbow crashed into the wall of the well, hissing as a new scrape appeared. He looped the rope around his limb and used his other arm to help pull his way.

Oh, ow. What in the world was that pain shooting up her back? Her bones ached, her head ached, everything that wasn’t awash with alcohol just throbbed with renewed protest. She followed his instruction. One of her kid’s grandparents had sent some money his way for his birthday, and she still had it on her.

There was a tavern not so far from here.

She pulled, and kept her favorite bar stool in mind.

Finally, he could see the edge. He reached up with his free hand in case it snapped again. He was so weak, he couldn't merely pull himself up as he normally could. He braced with his legs and still using the pulled rope.m, made it to the top.

As soon as he was on the ground, he collapsed and closed his eyes. It was the sub! And the grass felt amazing. He wanted to just lay there for a few moments and enjoy being horizontal instead of the cramped vertical he'd been trapped in.

Slowly he looked up at his savior, forgetting momentarily of his disgusting state. "Thanks, miss.." he said quietly.

As Menachem hoisted himself up, his odor blasted forward with him. Birds stopped singing. A weasel in the bushes gagged. Earthworms felt a looming sense of a treat coming soon.

Anita noticed nothing … of the olfactory nature. She dropped the rope and rubbed her back, grimacing.

“Oh, you’re welcome, dear.”

She started pulling and coiling the disgusting rope back up. Then, suddenly, looked over to Menachem.

“You’re a big fellow. Do you know a Benjamin Ward?”

Menachem winced and looked at the woman who had saved him as he pulled himself slowly to his hands and knees. He shook his head. "No clue.. who's that?" He said taking a moment to get to his feet and stifled a groan of pain when he tried to put weight on his bad foot. "Fuck... in.." His eyes opened to face his savior. "Sorry.." wait, why was he apologizing? She wasn't some polite lady. He sighed and limped towards her. "I owe ya one.. thank you."

At this distance, he may or may not notice she smelled nearly as bad as he did – albeit fermented in different ways.

“A terrible man, with terrible daughters,” she said with an intense look.

Then, she let herself half-kneel, half-collapse to her knees. Rolled onto her side and then sprawled herself out in the sun, like she might take a nap there. Wouldn’t be a first.

“That’s alright, dear,” she answered, raspily. “I forgive you.”

Her eyes were closed, but she smiled.

“You’re welcome. Stay out of wells and kill Benjamin Ward if you have a moment.”