Rooftop Tales 1 ~ A Slippery Slope

Short Story ~340 words ... 

A Slippery Slope

Copyright © 2021 by John D. Major

"That's freakin' frost on the roof, Boss!" Kimbo cursed, his lip-stuck cigarette bobbing.

"I ain't re-roofing no slippery roof," Larry added, pointing to iced, brittle shingles on the two-storey house.

Kenny shuffled his sneakers, mumbled something unintelligible and snuck me a look.

      

Me? I'm the Boss, the Hammer, hero of this tale. I pledge that some of what I recount is true.

"There are two kinds of frost," I said, eyeing the roof. "One is slippery, and one is not." I strode to the truck, grabbed the ladder, packed it back and extended it on a lean to the eaves. As I climbed ever higher, a wind froze my chiseled face and somewhere a dog howled.

     

"Come back down, Hammer!" Larry hollered from below and gripped the ladder to calm a gust.

Kimbo squashed his spent butt underfoot, and torched a fresh one."You're a damn fool, Boss!"

Kenny walked to the bushes aside the house for a whiz.

      

"One small step for a roofer," I said, touching a sole to the roof's cold white surface, “and one giant leap for roofingkind," planting the second. 

      

“Don’t do it, Boss!" Kimbo barked. "Don't let go of the freakin' ladder!”

      

Whispering a prayer to the Roofing god, I released my grip of the top rung and stood erect, my tool pouch packed, my black-and-orange Oriole's cap catching a sun's ray. And in that moment, I swear I heard the music-theme of 2001 A Space Odyssey playing above the clouds.

      

"Holy crap, he’s okay!" Kenny yelled. "The frost, it ain’t slippery!"

     

Sticking out my noble chin, I skipped to the roof's peak and danced a jig …
"Two kinds of frost there be," I sang,

"One is quick and one is fast,

To know the which, just ask me,

Or thy first step might be thy last!"

      

Kimbo spat out a gob and walked toward home. "I still ain't goin' up on that freakin' roof!"

"Me neither," Larry chimed, falling in stride.

"I'm with you, Hammer!" Kenny whooped and started up the ladder.

"Zip up, lad," I called, "we've work to do."

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Author's Note

Anything you'd care to share, I'd be grateful to hear.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

You've shown us that there's drama and intrigue in the blue collar world, just like there is with astronauts. Hammer got away with it this time, but that other kind of frost may put him in a body cast on another day. You know, I think what appears to be frost can sometimes just be dew.

[Rafita]

Roofers are a special breed. This writer brings out some of the very real humor that occurs on a roofing job site. The characters and their expectations carry you up, like the rungs on a ladder to dizzying heights of mischief or resistance to movement, feet stuck fast to the ground. Some go for the gusto and some just go home to a beer and a warm bed. Mr. Major takes us to the roofline and does a jig, reminding us that some can climb, and dance and get the job done, while some are content to gob their lives away. This author clearly knowns something about roofing and roofers. No disrespect to the roofers that continually make it to the roofline in spite of the 'frost' in their lives.

[Primo]

Nice story JD. Looking forward to more!

[Delmar Cooper]

Thanks for sharing this. I liked the mad Roofing King he is interesting. I won't insult you by saying there should be more -there always should be more if what there is is any good.
Cooper

[JD Major]

Thanks Delmar, "There should be more" is music to my ears!