The Snowman

Opal cast a glance outside her window early that morning. White! She rushed to the bathroom window. White! Excitedly, Opal wriggled down the stairs and plopped down in front of the fax machine. 

“Good morning everyone. I regret to inform you that unfortunately, our school day is canceled due to the heavy snow. Stay safe!” 

Unable to hold it any longer, Opal squealed with joy and thumped back upstairs. 

A groggy Mr. Dupont in a cliché blue robe holding a Best Mom Ever mug exited the kitchen, scaring Opal off her feet. 

“Jeez Louise, Dad!” Mr. Dupont’s face broke into a grin. 

“Sledding so early, Opal?” Opal ignored him and ran to her room to change. 

First, she dragged on some baggy snow pants. She struggled for a few minutes with the straps, and suffered the same difficulty with her still-wet mittens. After shaking the residue snow flurries off her boots, Opal pulled on a coat and fleece hat. 

She scampered again down the stairs, sweating and panting already from the exertion, she tumbled out the door and landed smack in the snow. 

“Ouchie,” she pouted, dusting her face of ice. 

Moments later, Opal had stumbled to the steep slope at the end of the block. Children were already there, frolicking and laughing heartily as they played with friends. 

“Not me,” she thought, a little sadly. Her only friend had moved months before, and there was still an ache of loneliness in Opal’s heart. She stared, then shook the thought away. 

Opal got to work at the top of the hill. She piled snow into a mound, a ball, a massive boulder of ice and slush. After wiping the sweat from her brow, Opal began working once again, this time rolling snow into a smaller ball, though it was still as big as a basketball. Finally, she rolled a small ball, no bigger than her head, and stacked up the spheres. 1, 2, 3. Opal counted them, and smiled a little. 

By now, a crowd of small children had huddled together, watching her. 

“That’s the biggest snowman I’ve seen in my entire life!” they shouted. 

Opal then stripped off her own scarf and gloves, but not after sticking on some smooth rocks for the snowman’s coal eyes, mouth, and buttons. Opal grabbed a carrot from the generous hands of another, and stuck it in the middle of the smallest ball of the structure. Opal stepped back with triumph. A massive, towering thing of snow stared back down at her. Opal tilted her head slightly, measuring the snowman mentally. 

“If I’m 5’ 3’’, she thought, “that thing is for sure at least 7 feet tall.” 

Before she could take pride in her work of art, however, a looming shadow approached the bunch. Robin Sizzle, the neighborhood jester, swaggered over to Opal, hulking over her by a head. 

“Hey shortie, a snowman? How lame can you get?” 

Robin knocked a handful of snow from the snowman’s torso. 

“Leave, Robin. You’re dangerously affecting the average IQ of this area.”

“No you,”

Robin cracked up at his own joke while Opal looked on with annoyance. 

Opal whacked Robin playfully in the shoulder. He shoved Opal hard. 

“Whatcha gonna do about it, huh?”

Though Robin was giant in stature, he was still a 10-year-old, 3 years younger than Opal.

“I can offer you hot chocolate.”

“Bribes? They don’t work on me.””

“You know my mom makes some pretty great hot chocolate.”

“I don’t “do” hot chocolate. Only losers do.”

“Come on.”

Robin finally gave in, and Opal made a new friend.