We dressed in the appropriate gear for sledding: thick gloves and woolly mammoth coats, tassel caps, extra socks, and jeans. I borrowed a massive pair of rubber boots from him, stuffing and balling up cotton socks at their tips so they would fit me better. After dressing in his kitchen, we exited his indifferent house, stepped onto the abode’s rear stoop, and faced Mother Nature’s brisk and dark evening like wintry beasts.
Jax kept the inner tube stored in the garden shed near the left of his property, not in his garage. Once he fetched it, we walked the thirteen meters across his backyard and to the top of Kasher Hill. Positioned at the top, as we stood shoulder to shoulder, Jax looped one arm through the massive inflated tube. We stared down the steep, ice-and-snow covered slope. Near i
