It took us all the following day and part of next, though our calculations of time were suspect, to finish our ladder. We hugged each other when our exhausting project was completed. We braced our ladder against the wall and played a game of numbers to see who would the first to climb. Molly won and joyously shouted as she touched wood!
It was our goal that by using a hammer and screwdriver, we could chisel and opening in the floor above. Balancing ourselves on the ladder and hammering over our heads proved incredibly difficult. We were operating by pure feel in the total darkness where balancing alone was precariously. We'd become dizzy. Fingers and thumbs were struck constantly and after a few hours I was the first to fall. Though I could hardly raise my arms above my aching side, I kept working. We moved our mattress beneath our ladder after Molly too fell, partially at least atop me standing beneath her.
Frequent breaks were absolutely necessary and exhaustion was a never ending condition. It was late day-three by our calculations when we broke through. We were alerted only by the feel of the screwdriver's slack penetration. No light shorn from above us. It was night. We had miscalculated the time of day. We barely slept that night, in eager anticipation of glimpsing our first rays of sunshine! Molly woke me with a rib crushing hug as she pointed to a single star-like dot of light gloriously hanging above us!
More than a day followed until we'd chiseled, in ever increasing light, our precious opening. First it was enough for a hand, but nothing but dust was within reach. Next, a head but scattered hay was the only thing in sight. At last, our opening was large enough for Molly O'Malley to scrape and squeeze he way up, standing precariously on my aching shoulders! It seemed hours I was left alone until shouting voices announced the end of our ordeal.