The Shoes by Raydon Cardenas
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Memorable Meal Essay by Robin Anderson
“Get up Robin! Everyone is going fishing, are you?” My dad yelled at the bottom of the
stairs. As I slowly sat up on my squeaky bed, my eyes squinted at the clock it read 4:08. I wanted
to go back to my warm bed and dream on, but part of me thought “You need to catch your
limit!” I slowly rolled out of bed and walked to the shed to pull on my smelly , wet waiters over
my pajamas pants; I got in the truck tired but awake waiting for everyone else, so we could go
and beat the crowd.
As we drove up to the campground just before the trail, all the campers and tents were
quiet not one person was awake, it was dead. My dad dropped us off at the beginning of the trail,
so we could start walking and get our fishing spot. It was so dark, I could barely see two feet in
front of me; my brother held the flashlight while we walked through a small pathway in the thick
birch trees towering over us. The crisp, cold, clean, air pierced my lungs, which kept me alert.
The fear of running into a bear became less as we got closer to the confluence.
We finally got to our fishing spot: a small little island that sat in the middle of the river. I
watched the fish jumping up out of the water. My excitement increased with every one that I
saw. I quickly baited my rig with a big, fat, gummy piece of roe and I casted my line out…
BOOM! I caught a fish instantly my pole was arched, and the fish was strong. I tried to pull it
ashore as fast as I could, but three feet away… it got off. I baited my rig and casted out again… BOOM! I had another really nice Silver on my line, it flopped up, my heart was racing as I
brought it ashore. I knocked it out and cut it’s gills, I placed it in our pile of fish.
Fifteen minutes later, the river was quiet. The fish were all spooked now, not one was
biting. The limit was two; I had my last fish to catch. Cast after cast, not one bite. I wanted to go
home so bad; I was cold, wet, and hungry. As I casted desperately out into the river, hoping to
get my last fish. I accidentally casted over my brother. He lifted his pole up, my line started
bouncing.
“Stop messing with my line Pat!” I said with a giggle. At that moment I saw a fish flop
out of the water. I was shocked! I didn’t think that there was a fish on my line. I brought it in,
this was my last fish. We gutted the fish and started walking down the trail. I was so excited to
go home.
When we drove up to the house, my dad said “A great morning of fishing deserves a
breakfast for champs!” “You bag the fish and freeze them and I’ll start breakfast.” A good warm
breakfast after the morning we had sounded amazing. My brother and I got the fish put away
fast. Walking towards the house it looked so warm and inviting. Opening the door brought many
aromas to my nose, my mouth began to water. Sizzling of bacon, bubbling of freshly brewed
coffee, I couldn’t wait to sit down and eat. Of course before I could do so I needed to wash the
fish slime off of my hands.
Finally I sat at the table with my family looking at all the food my dad prepared. He was
finishing up the cheesy grits, one of my favorites! He had all of the goods on the table.
Homemade hash browns fried in olive oil with salt, pepper, onion, and garlic. S.O.S which is a
white peppered gravy with chunks of browned sausage served over toasted homemade, sourdough, bread. Lets not forget the crispy bacon and hot coffee. My stomach was growling like
a bear. “Dig in guys!” my dad said. I was waiting for him to say that all morning. It was all so
delicious, I ate so much that my stomach couldn’t take any more. I went back up to my bed and
laid my head down. My eyes blurring out, I was ready for a nap. Looking at the clock, it now
read 8:37, I shut my eyes and fell asleep.
