Uphill Battle

The sun was beating down, it was midway through the summer holidays, I was only 9 years old as was my friend Jamie. The summer holidays had barely begun and we were gearing up for all kinds of mischief on our sleepy estate of houses. With only one bike between us and barely 200 metres of road to peruse, we had to get creative. Though we managed to fill the days pretending to be spies or soldiers hiding behind brick walls and tall bushes, today we found it was just too much. The heat was getting to use so we settled for an afternoon at another fiends house. Courtney was a sweet girl, a year older than us and had the entire Sky package meaning we could kill time in tears of laughter at the latest cartoon network shows. As it got dark I realised Jamies insistence to stay at Courtneys for as long as possible. Even at 9 it was obvious, he had a crush on her. His first crush in fact. We would both get in trouble if we were late home so I left, let my mum know I was stay at Jamies for the night and somehow managed to persuade Jamie back to his own home, bidding Courtney farewell. Little did we know what the next day would entail.

After some time spent playing with Lego and split screen Call of Duty (throughout which we both actively cheated), we slept. It wasn’t until Jamies brother knocked at the door telling us to look out the window. Naturally I was curious so I leaped up and who could have known, it had snowed a flurry throughout the night. At least 7 inches of snow which for England is a big deal. As a child this was a dream come true! I had been sick of the heat the day prior but now we have a cool change of scenery. Though my concern for the sudden shift in weather made me wonder if some divine entity had heard my prayer to be done with summer weather, as an adult I realise it is more likely to do with climate change.

We spent the day having snowball fights, writing rude words into the pavement snow and generally just running around in this spontaneous silent wonderland outside the front door. I went to spend some time with family but when I returned I found Jamie had been throwing snow at Courtney in that typical boyish way. Being too uncomfortable or embarrassed to express his feelings, they manifested as an almost cruel grab for attention. Courtney herself had spent the day building a snowman in her front garden with her younger sister which in all honesty was very impressive. They were a well to do family so could spare a scarf, a hat, a carrot and other bits and pieces to decorate the snowman. It was as authentic as they come and with Jamie and myself being from, well, not so well to do families, we were jealous. Jamies romantically repressed infantile brain had an idea as the sun started to set. We should steal the snowman.

At this point I had gotten bored enough of the snow, now black from exhaust fumes and tyre muck, to agree to such an idea. And so from there Jamie got his cricket bat and swung it at the head of the snowman which was, in my opinion, a bit overkill, but we had to be rid of the head in order to steal the bulk of it, being the body. Jamie abandoned his cricket bat and we began the long struggle along what can’t have been more than 50m of pavement from Courtneys house to Jamies. Rolling it from her front garden was easy enough though what we did not foresee was a vital property of snow in that it picks itself up. The pavement all the way was still coated in downtrodden snow, every bit of which was picked up by this ever growing boulder that we, 9 year old children, were gradually rolling towards Jamies.

It was a task that required completing once it had begun. Our pride was at stake and so, despite it approaching the late hours of the evening and both of our mothers watching from their respective front doors, we pushed and pushed and rolled the snow ever further. At halfway there it was taller than ourselves and by the time we got it to Jamies it had grown to no less than 6 feet. 6 round feet of solid snow, pushed halfway up the road for the sake of a girl. My motivation to this day remains unclear with the exception of foresight in that it would be a story to tell later in life.

It took 4 hours but eventually we got the damned thing to Jamies house and even into his back garden where, the very next day, it would turn to solid ice. We congratulated each other on this epic feat, both walking away with a new sense of appreciation for a more primitive time and I, headed straight for bed after a long hard days work (at least for a 9 year old) knew that it had been a memorable day. The day we set out to steal a snowman and ended up in a scene reminiscent of Sisyphus. The day I helped my friend process his feelings for a girl. The day I had fun working. A day I will continue to remember.