Rona Ramjas

Father and Me

A sea of glass, that's what it looked like. The sun rose behind the sea and its dazzling reflection danced upon the surface of the the clear blue water,while the ships decorated the sea and the early birds caught their meals at shore.

It was 5:00 am and the moment I hated arrived, my dad walked out of the house, holding his torned and sightly discolored bag, that carried a few pieces of clothing which would last him a few months. In the other hand was his tool kit. He was gonna leave for a few months again, out to sea, where the beauty of life unfolded itself through nature. His heart belonged there and it still does.

I aimed for the shell but instead I kicked up a storm of sand with my toes, while I silently screamed out that I was mad, mad, not only because he was gonna be gone for another few months, but because I couldn't go on the ship and stay, I did go on, but I had to get off before they set sail.

I waved good bye and he waved back and we went on and on until the ship shrunk through the distance. I sat on the sand and played with the shells as I gazed out to the sky and sea and wondered where they met, or if they ever met.

After pondering and lying on the sand I walked back to the house, it wasn't exactly a house rather an apartment that we rented. If you walked by you would think it was a motel but it wasn't, it had about eight rooms the most and each room had a bathroom, one bedroom, and a living room that was as little as the kitchen. The family next door had lived there for about ten years or so and the couple on the other side of our room had lived there for two or three years, maybe even less but I didn't care about them, I just wanted them to leave cause I couldn't take their crazy screams in the middle of night and the way that woman dressed made me mad, she had the worst taste in fashion and in men, and I hated the fact she would let that horrible man of her's tell her what to do and he just sat on his lazy behind all day and thought he was cute, but somebody told him wrong. My thirty six year old uncle lived by himself across the room from ours, he kept to himself all the time and he never dated after his first love left him ten years earlier, but I was fond of him, he gave me candy and ice cream anytime I wanted and he let me watch cartoons all night when my dad was gone. Grandpa lived with my other unlce, who was married and had three girls, I loved them and we always had fun when I went to their house, which was quite often even though they lived on the other side of the island, but since it only took one hour or so to drive around the entire island, it wasn't a problem.

Silence filled the air and I filled with anticipation for the arrival of my dad. He was coming home in an hour. I couldn't wait for the ship to sail in and even though that meant no more late nights and no more candy, for my dad was actually very strict about things like that and I was always delightfully disobedient,I would grab the candy bar and run and demand that I should get to stay up late and watch T.V, but it didn't really matter. I still missed him and wanted him to come home.

I sat patiently on the dock and let my mind wonder out to sea when my eyes met with "The Flying Clouds", I got up and ran towards the end of the dock and almost ran off when one of the old sailors grabbed me right before my tiny body would have fell in the cool waters of the new morning. I jumped around a little and then some more while I waited for him to get off, and even though my dad smelled like sea and beer from the sleepless nights filled with card games and laughter, I hugged him and choked up with the few other smells of grease and fuel and smoke, quite an aroma!

We hugged and walked back towards the house and I demanded that I should carry his bag because I insisted that he was tired but the bag carried me, being the tiny seven year old that I was. We walked side by side, his figure a giant to my shadow, as he told me all about his voyage and I listened with enthusiasm and the joy in my eyes twinkled like the sunset on the water.

My Autobiography

The Color of Water

Memoir

When I was a Puerto Rican

First Love