We began carving the obelisk today. Father and some of the other workers used animal fat and charcoal to draw the shape of the obelisk on the granite. I counted off seventy paces as I walked the entire length. Someday, when they stand the obelisk up, it is going to be very tall.
One hundred thirty of us were positioned shoulder to shoulder around the outline that had been drawn on the granite. Then each of us was given a black rock, round and about the size of my head. The rock is called dolerite. It is very heavy and very hard, harder than granite.
We were ordered to raise the dolerite over our head and slam it down against the surface of the granite. When I smashed my dolerite down, some flakes of granite flew off. Father told me that meant I was doing it right.
Yamu-nedjeh clapped out a rhythm with his hands and all one hundred thirty of us slammed our dolerite against the granite. Over and over and over again. It was very hard to keep up the pace. Sweat was pouring off my face and pooling up on the stone below me. Every few minutes a worker came by with a broom to sweep away the sweat and the granite dust we had created.
We worked until the sun disappeared from the sky, each of us pounding our stone against the granite repeatedly. At that point Yamu-nedjeh stopped clapping. I looked around to see we had made a smooth groove about one inch deep around the outline of the obelisk. Father said that was a good day’s work.
Yamu-nedjeh inspected the stone again to make sure there weren’t any cracks in it. If he found any, we would have had to start all over again tomorrow. Luckily, there were no cracks.
Bending and squatting all day is hard work. Breathing in granite dust made us cough and gasp for breath. Father came home sore and exhausted. So did I. My arm and shoulder muscles were in terrible pain. Mother rubbed oil on us to make us feel better, but it did not help very much. We went to sleep immediately.
DAY 11
Back to the quarry to pound the dolerite today. Now there is a two-inch trench around the outline of the obelisk. At one inch per day, we are going to be here for a very long time. I am tired and sick of this work already. But we must continue. We have no choice but to do what we are told or suffer the lash.
DAY 12
More pounding the dolerite today. I am afraid that I am going to die at a very young age.
DAY 13
More pounding the dolerite today. The other workers say that when we finish making the obelisk, it will be floated down the Nile to the city of Heliopolis in the north. So we do all the work and the people of Heliopolis get to enjoy it. That does not seem fair to me. Father told me that life is not fair, so stop complaining.
DAY 14
More pounding the dolerite today. While we were working, Asim, one of the older slaves working next to me, whispered in my ear that we should rise up and fight back against the masters. Asim said we cannot fail. There are hundreds of us, and only a few of them.
But I reminded him that we have no weapons, and that Yamu-nedjeh carries a long sword with him at all times. Asim said that if a bunch of us charged at Yamu-nedjeh, we could overpower him and take away his sword. Then we would be free. I replied, “You go first and we will see what happens.” Asim didn’t say anything after that.
Working on the obelisk is a hard life, especially for older men like Asim. My mother says maybe we should run away. But run away to where? We would surely be caught. The masters might remove our fingers or toes. More likely, we would be executed.
Father reminded her that once the obelisk is completed, he will be rewarded with his freedom, and we will be able to live the life we choose. I cannot even imagine what it would be like to be free. I do not know what we would do if we did not have a master telling us when to work, when to sleep, or when to eat.
DAY 52
More pounding the dolerite.
Asim died today. I saw it. He raised up his dolerite and fell over dead. He was replaced by another slave as soon as he hit the ground. We continued working.
DAY 547
For a year and a half, we have been pounding the granite with dolerite. Every day, the trench we are digging around the obelisk becomes an inch deeper. We are working completely below the surface of the quarry now. The obelisk is beginning to look like an obelisk, laying on its side. It is becoming a beautiful thing.
When we started, I was a boy. Now I feel like an old man. But I have strong muscles in my arms and legs, which is a good thing.
DAY 550
The obelisk is nearly finished. Our next task will be to free it from the quarry. We are now tunneling below it from both sides, which is even harder to do. I was afraid the obelisk might fall on top of us as we chipped away the remaining pieces of granite. But as soon as we created a hole that went underneath the obelisk, a long granite block was put in the hole to support it. We will keep pounding the dolerite underneath until the obelisk is completely freed from the quarry.
Another prisoner died today. I did not know his name. They carried his body away and we were told to keep working.
DAY 551
While some workers continued carving out the bottom of the obelisk, the rest of us were tasked with making the other three sides perfectly straight and smooth. We were each given a small block of stone. Wet sand and granite flakes were applied to the surface of the obelisk and we were told to rub our stone against the obelisk over and over again. Yamu-nedjeh clapped out a rhythm. This is not as hard work as pounding the obelisk with dolerite, but it is still hard, dull work.
DAY 552
We polished the obelisk today.
DAY 553
Polished the obelisk.
DAY 554
Same as yesterday. More polishing.
DAY 611
Today is the big day! After almost two years of working, today the giant obelisk is to be freed from the ground from which it has been held since the beginning of time. That also means that very soon Father will be freed from his servitude.
The polishing is complete. The obelisk is very smooth now. I have been wondering how we were going to pull it out of the quarry. Today I got the answer. During the last week, workers delivered many long, thick wooden planks. Each one is the height of a small tree. I don’t know where the wood came from. There are few trees in Aswan.
These heavy planks were placed all around the obelisk, with one end jammed underneath and the other end sticking out of the ground. I counted twenty planks on each side. We were ordered to grab hold at the end of the nearest plank.
“Pull!” shouted Yamu-nedjeh.
