Iron Jaws

Cold cast iron under my palms. Found a heavy bench vise bolted tight to an old cedar log behind the maintenance barn. The threaded spindle was frozen with dried sap and orange grit. Planted my feet in the dirt. Took the iron crossbar with both fists. Hauled down with my shoulders. A harsh metal screech. Then the screw gave. Smooth. I kept spinning the handle until the thick jaws opened wide. Blew the dry dust out from between the iron teeth. Solid grip left waiting. Tapped the anvil face with heavy knuckles. Ready to bite.