Ruben Ramos

The Owoo and the Owt

Greetings. I’m Pellish. No, that’s not some rare skin condition or color, but what my under-schooled father who lived in a barn thought to call me the day after. I’m at a summer camp and I’m not complaining. Just a short trip from our farm keeps me from the chores. It’s day 2 and I’m next for the bobber cast competition. Simple enough, it’s a dry cast of a fishing bobber trying to sink a hole about 40 feet away. No need to fear the inevitable, I’m going to screw this up no doubt. I’m getting better but my eye hand coordination are still work in progress. If it wasn’t for my brother pushing me, I wouldn’t have let them shove me into the line. Jeremy is next, and I’m right behind him. He is just 5 years older but the smartest friend I feel I have. He’s as they say, I good kid. Constantly watching over me, finding reasons, (making excuses) for my bold ineptness, I’d like to think he takes after my mother. The only thing I can validate what my father passed on to me, is one leg is shorter than the other. It kept my father out of the military service and keeps me tripping as if my shoelaces were tied together in the most opportunist of moments to lead to ridicule.