Dewberry Farmer

USA. A commercial gym. I lay down beneath an iron bar that was clearly engineered to hold a highway bridge together, and I prepared to die quietly. In my homeland, if a man is crushed by iron in public, he accepts his fate in silence so he does not inconvenience the people on the treadmills. Here, I made the mistake of asking a man the size of a vending machine for a spot. His name was "Big" Kev. Kev ripped off his headphones as if he had been waiting since birth for this summons, and two more strangers, "CJ" and "2-Plate" Trey, immediately sprinted over to surround my head. "How many we hitting, bro?" Kev asked. "One," I said. "If the gods permit." "Nah, you got three in the tank!" Trey roared directly into my forehead. "LIGHTWEIGHT, BABY!" It was not lightweight. A feather is light. A spring breeze is light. This was a small Honda Civic resting on my sternum. I lowered the bar to my chest, where it immediately established permanent residency. It did not move. I made a small sound like a stepping on a frog. Instantly, all three men leaned in like a Formula One pit crew. "Push! Drive through the floor!" CJ screamed. "Stay tight! Lock it out, king!" Trey barked. Kev reached down with two fingers, hooked the bar, and deadlifted at least eighty pounds of the weight himself while my arms merely traveled upward as passengers. We racked the bar. I sat up, gasping for oxygen, and bowed to thank Kev for saving my windpipe. Kev looked me dead in the eye and committed perjury. "Bro, I didn't even touch the bar," Kev said. "That was all you." "Zero assistance," CJ lied without blinking. "Pure solo lift, my guy." I stared at them. They stared at me. Three American witnesses had just sworn under oath that I possessed superhuman strength. To correct them now would be to call them liars. "Throw another ten on each side!" Trey cheered. "He didn't even struggle!" I wanted to tell him that my left lung had collapsed. Instead, I nodded calmly. A samurai does not confess that he can no longer feel his thumbs. By set four, I was no longer participating in the exercise. Kev was essentially doing upright rows with my barbell while I lay flat on my back holding my hands in the air like an overturned beetle. "ALL YOU, WARRIOR!" Kev bellowed, veins bulging in his neck as he lifted the entire bar off my throat. "YOU didn't even need me!" When we finally finished, the whole corner of the gym applauded my strength. Kev slapped my shoulder, which dislocated slightly. "Same weight tomorrow?" Kev asked. "Yes," I said with total serenity, and then used both legs to push the exit door open because my arms no longer worked.