“Better give it a hand. Why not? What else do I have to do?”
He dressed, deciding to shovel-out, a term used widely by Low Hollow residents next to Lake Erie. A local term used after a snowstorm. Steve stepped into Timberland boots and tied them up. He pushed arms through a heavy winter jacket, covered his head in one of Gio’s many ball caps, and accessorized with gloves and a scratchy scarf. Thereafter, he fetched the heavy-duty shovel from the garage and went to town on the packed snow, inches massed on inches. Too much snow. Bundles.
Gio’s Xterra looked like a massive mushroom from Alice in Wonderland. The vehicle resembled a covered white lump, hidden by the snow. None of its metal, plastic, or rubber was visible through the white stuff. Steve started from the front of the garage to where the Nissan sat. He manhandled the shovel and dug, creating a narrow pathway around the vehicle, one shovelful after the next.