Dead Man's Hill

Snowstorms were no longer predictable in the New York area. They were unexpected to the point that the local weatherman couldn’t hide his disdain over being wrong. 

“Looks like we are in for about 6-12 inches this time around. Don’t expect to go out on the roads.”

The meteorologist continued to give out more statistics of the storm, even reading out another ridiculous name for the storm coined by the Weather Channel. The sky was already completely gray with clouds moving east at a fast pace. Justin was looking out the bay window where he had a perfect view of the neighborhood. Things had certainly changed over the past decade. The Connors to the right had changed their wood siding to a gray colored stucco. The Baileys across the street had completely given up; moss growing over their roof and their white fence needed to power washed desperately. The De Angelos two doors down had added on over their garage to accommodate their growing brood, their youngest now about to complete his final year of elementary school. 

The coming snowstorm had brought back a rush of emotions, filling Justin with a nostalgia that made him long to become a child again. As it got darker out, Justin moved the snow shovels to the porch along with a bag of salt to prepare for the morning. He said goodnight to his parents, poured a glass of water, took a Melatonin and got into bed. His bones ached like he had put in a days worth of hard labor. It was the storm, the bitter chill of winter seeping through the cracks of the house and consuming his body with lethargy. At least this will get me a good night’s sleep, he thought. And shortly after thinking this, he drifted to sleep. 

Justin was not destined to stay in this house. Or at least that’s how he thought. He went to a decent college, was hired to a relatively well known consulting firm, and made a decent salary. However, he felt trapped by the prospect of being home, yet completely tied to this home and never able to leave. His friends had mostly migrated to bigger cities, meeting other people, dating and hooking up. The ones that stayed and lived at home continued in dead end jobs, an endless cycle of registering and dropping out of the local community college. It was a never ending storm and Justin felt caught in the middle. 

He woke up shortly before 11am, much later than he usually slept and his body was less sore than before he went to bed. He could only see a white glow behind the curtains in his bedroom, signaling to him that the weatherman was correct after all. He went out to the front door where about 8 inches of snow was piled up on the front porch. Behind him, his father was already geared up in his winter jacket and boots to begin the shoveling. “I just want to get it over with,” his father laughed. And he headed out. Justin felt obligated to join, especially being the younger man in the house, so he went to the basement, grabbed his LL Bean boots, his gloves, heavy parka and hat. 

It was bitterly cold outside, but once the shoveling commenced, Justin felt his shirt get damp with sweat. As he shoveled the end of the driveway, he saw a figure walking towards him. He paid no mind until he heard them speak. 

“You’re going to look up and not say hi?”

It was Lily. 

Lily lived two doors down and had known Justin since he was three years old. She was two years his senior and the two had spent countless hours after school together, on the weekends riding bikes with the other children living on the block, making up games with their once creative minds. She was always outgoing, a bright personality. Justin was always more hesitant when it came to making decisions, but Lily had a bit of an impulsive and rebellious side. She was the first person to get Justin to smoke pot, the first one to convince him to skip school (“No one will realize you’re even gone”), the first to convince him to kiss a girl he liked. Justin was honestly surprised to see her, knowing she had moved to Boston and only came home for holidays or family gatherings. 

“Did you finally come to realize that Boston wasn't good enough?” he said. 

She laughed and walked closer to the driveway, a mound of snow in between them. 

“I had some time off and figured I’d come home yesterday. Good timing, especially with the storm. I felt like I was barely here for the holidays this time around.”

“Yeah, I didn’t even get to see you,” he said. “How is everything at home? Haven’t seen anyone recently.”

“Oh, they’re fine. Laying low. Dad is ready to retire and so is my mom. God forbid they sell the house next year, but it’s not like I can’t stop.”

The rumblings of neighbors selling their houses have increased over the years. Retirees looking for a property with less maintenance, less money on property taxes. 

A snow plow trudged up the street, snow blasting to the left of them, leaving a fresh new blanket over the driveways. Justin put the shovel in the snow standing up. 

“Were you going on a walk? Plows will probably leave snow all over you.”

“I was, but I wanted to scope out Dead Man’s Hill. Have you been down there recently?”

Dead Man’s Hill is the name of the woods across the street from Justin’s house. It’s a small patch of woods, but has three main hills that were used for sledding, biking, making forts. The origin of its name was never completely confirmed. It could be in regards to the cemetery that ran against the woods. There was also a rumor that someone died on their motorcycle going down one of the hills. Long term residents of the block never confirmed that story. Over the years, the once ideal spot to hold wars with pellet guns and homemade wooden fortresses grew to be a garbage pit. Justin had walked through the woods over the summer, seeing piles of beer cans and liquor bottles in one spot. Garbage bags from those that were either looking to get out of paying their service or teens destroying party evidence were scattered. 

“Over the summer I went down there. All I’ll say is the snow has probably covered up how much of an eye sore it is.”

“Want to come with me? Trying to have a trip down memory lane.”

Justin’s dad was heading inside, waved to Lily, and gave a thumbs up. The shoveling mission was basically completed so Justin decided to join in. 

“But wait, grab a cup with you,” she said as she swished her Yeti tumbler around and flashed the whiskey bottle inside of her coat. Her influence always prevailed. 

It was true that the snow covered the eyesore. No garbage in sight save for a yellow plastic bag tangled on a branch, waving in the wind. Nothing structurally was different with the woods. The trees, now bare of their leaves, were still standing and the trails surprisingly remained.

“Remember when you went down the hill and the twig went into your knee?” Lily said. 

One winter they had went sledding, Justin using a new sled with a similar structure as a snowboard but with a handle. He went much faster than expected and landed in a thorn bush, probing his knee where you can see muscle tissue and a little bit of bone. 

“Yup, 15 stitches. It didn’t hurt at all, but maybe I was numb from the cold.,” he said as he took a sip of the whiskey.

“So what’s new with you? How’s the job?”

“Hectic,” he said. “But it pays the bills. I guess that’s all that matters,” he said. 

“Well,” she said, “Boston is hectic, but fun. Ready to make the move up there?”

Justin laughed. “You know I can’t make up my mind with these things. Where the hell do you see me, Lil?”

“Honestly, I always saw you out west. You’ve always had this quiet, hippy nature about you. Always misunderstood, but still respected by everyone you met. Does that make sense? Or am I buzzed already?”

“I think that makes sense. But I’m not bold like you. Moving out somewhere where I know absolutely no one and starting over.”

“There’s a thrill about it, for sure. But it’s also terrifying. I think with you, you feel things too deeply. You become attached and there’s just no more room to grow, nowhere to branch out. It hurts to get out of that. But it’s all about growing”

“I don’t think I see myself going. I mean, that far. I was always thinking New York City. But what if I don’t like it?”

“But what if you do? You’ve always tried to rationalize things. But that’s not always a bad thing. I think when it comes to your personal life, you sometimes need to make the jump yourself. No one is going to save you except yourself.”

Lily signaled in this conversation that she knew Justin was going through something deeper than he was admitting. A quarter life crisis, his therapist said. It’s fine, everyone goes through with it. But no one wants to admit it. Justin doesn’t want to even admit. When he was younger, he expected a life different than he was living. A long term significant other, a purchase of a home on the horizon. A search for an engagement ring. A promotion that would make him more respected by his peers. But all of it seemed so out of reach. Dreams change, things don’t work out. But it’s hard to admit it. He still appreciated hearing it from Lily. It’s sometimes good to hear it from someone else, especially one that you have forged a close relationship with. 

They both sat on the snow bank that piled from the plows. Justin looked over at Lily and smirked. “I got an idea. Stay here.” He got up and trotted across the street to his house, shuffling through the snow drifts to the shed. Up on the shelf above him laid several sleds. His father had taken some of the old fashioned wooden ones from garage sales, but underneath laid three Styrofoam sleds, similar to a boogie board that you would ride in the ocean. He grabbed two of them and ran back to the street. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lily exclaimed. “Drinking and sledding sounds dangerous. But I’m game.”

She took another sip from her Yeti, set it down, and grabbed the sled from Justin. They both steadied themselves at the top of the bill and had a sense of anxiety. They’re older, not as young and resilient like they were 10 years ago. But they haven’t aged that much. Without a word, Justin jogged a few steps, flew into the air, went sliding down the hill. The snow whipped into his face, causing him to squint as he directed himself into the pit down below. A few seconds later, he came to a halt, pants soaked, but enjoying the adrenaline the experience caused. 

“You’re turn!” he yelled. 

He could hear her cackle at the top of the hill. She started her little job, much slower than Justin’s, but she quickly gained momentum as she got further down the hill. 

“Steer right!”

She took a sharp turn and headed off the trail, still gliding and into the bare bushes, not far from where Justin had his knee injury. Justin got up and ran towards where she stopped. She rolled over, laughing out loud and holding her stomach. 

“I thought I was a goner,” she said. 

He helped her up and the two of them went down the hill a few more times. The other hills were blocked by fallen tree logs so they had to continue using the main hill at the entrance of the woods. It was around 4pm when the sun started to get lower in the west. They both climbed the hill to the top, exhausted and red-faced from the cold and wind whipping into their cheeks. 

“I swear this was my workout today. And I’m sober now,” she said said as she picked up the Yeti and took a sip. 

Justin stared out over the hill. The branches were starting to drip, some snow melting from the sun shining, but it would turn to icicles as the night approaches. 

“You ok?” Lily said, out of breath. 

“Yeah,” Justin said gasping for breath. He smiled and laughed a little. “Do you remember why they called this Dead Man’s Hill?” 

Lily squinted out onto the hill and then looked at Justin. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time. I have no idea.”

No one ever has any idea anymore.