Ninth Circle of Hell

Sweet Jesus.  The end of the day was finally in sight.  Jay leaned against his shovel with both hands and took a deep breath.   The medical center’s sidewalks were almost clear of snow and ice, and that meant he could go home again and grab a few hours sleep.  Out of the last forty hours, he had plowing, shoveling, salting, and swearing for thirty three.  He wasn’t sure what this facility exactly was.  It wasn’t really a hospital, although people in scrubs would come in and out at shift change.  It didn’t seem awfully busy, and seemed to cater to geriatric patients.  At this point, he didn’t really care.  Fucking old people and their fucking sidewalks.  The sun was starting to go down, and he buttoned up his jacket before continuing to shovel.  You could work up quite a sweat and feel pretty warm working like this, but once the daylight disappeared or the wind picked up, the cold cut right into you. 

            “Having fun yet?” Dave asked, working about ten feet ahead.  Smart ass.  The combination of snow, sleet, and rain had formed a layer of frozen hell on top of everything.  It was impossible to just push or lift off the resultant mess.  The best way to clear the sidewalks was for Dave to chop through the crust with a steel spade, and Jay would clear the mini iceberg chunks off.  Global warming my ass.  This stuff wasn’t going to melt completely until August.  Jay leaned forward, his back aching and his fingers numb and cold, and kept shoveling. 

            Working in the plow truck was certainly warmer, but no less stressful.  Jay had never done any plowing before, and this wasn’t a fun way to learn.  He had picked up the truck and sat at home, waiting for the call from Dave to start.  That call had come at three in the morning, and this is when he walked right into Satan’s eternally chewing, fanged mouth.  Jay bounced between a couple of businesses, keeping in touch with Dave via cell phone, and watched the snow and ice pile deeper as his self confidence, sense of calm, and sanity melted away.  Jay had no idea what he was doing.  Jay had no idea why people needed to get coffee and a newspaper at eleven thirty at night in an ice storm as he dodged their cars while trying to plow Wawa’s lot.  Jay had to dodge their cars because his pickup with flashing yellow lights, two thousand pounds of salt, and an eight foot plow blade making a racket as it scraped across the asphalt was apparently invisible.   Jay had to call Dave to help him keep up, to help him finish work that should have been done hours ago.  Jay was sad.  L

            Jay looked up at saw there was only a few feet of sidewalk left.  He straightened up again, cold fingers rubbing at his sore lower back, and took another deep breath.  At least it was better than being at home.