Slippery Slope

A Story by JD Major

Short Story ~340 words ...

Slippery Slope

"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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© 2021 JD Major

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Samuel Dickens

This is cleverly written and quite entertaining. Having been a blue collar kind of guy my entire life, I could easily put myself in among these fellows. I helped roof a house in the heat of summer when young and thought it was like working on the side of a volcano. Maybe winter would've been better--just as long as the frost wasn't the slippery kind.