To ride the waves, feeling the wind on your face that causes your hair to become tangled in a web of knots. The forthcoming hassle of untangling it doesn’t even register in your thoughts. Adrenaline surges through your veins, and you’re fully immersed in the present moment, devoid of any concerns. This is the vision that dances in my mind when someone speaks of the phrase “go with the flow.” It’s a common phrase, yet I’ve never put it into practice, simply because I believed planning ensured predictability and a flawless experience. The notions of being an adventurous and spontaneous spirit seemed distant, residing beyond the boundaries of my reality, until it wasn’t.
The gears shifted in my father’s mind that compelled him to impulsively decide on a family vacation, remains a mystery to me. My recollections of our last family getaway are vague at best, consisting of my perspective from about four feet above the ground. I speculate that perhaps he won the lottery and camouflaged his newfound wealth with an air of generosity with the disappearance of his habitual frugality. Ultimately, none of this mattered as all it did was lead me down a never-ending corkscrew climber of tasks: passport renewals and appointments, hotel and flight bookings, and the tedious chore of packing my luggage. On top of that, I spent days and nights surfing the internet for excursions to book, drinking canned caffeine late at night, wanting to perfect every little detail. Meanwhile, everyone else just had to worry about which pair of pants they should bring. I, a mere 17 years old who wasn’t even of legal age, found myself singlehandedly orchestrating a 3-night, 4-day vacation for my entire family. In the event of any mishaps, my head would be the bounty. Therefore, meticulous planning was not a choice but a necessity.
3:30 a.m., was our anticipated arrival time at LaGuardia airport. By 5:00 a.m. the plan dictated that we would have successfully navigated airport security and commenced boarding our 6:00 a.m. flight to Boston. At 9:00 a.m., we should have embarked on our flight from Boston to Cancun. By 2:00 p.m., we would have landed and gotten rid of our airplane ears and checked into our hotel by 3:00 p.m. A series of checkboxes neatly ticked off on my list, and this perfect execution was what I anticipated for the rest of the trip.
On the following morning, after a peaceful slumber that revived us from the exhaustion of traveling, my brother and I were the unusual early birds of the family. He inquired about our plans for the day, so I handed him my detailed itinerary I had painstakingly crafted for the following days. His ensuing groans got on my nerves, prompting an eye roll and a rude finger gesture. I expected him to retort with a similar snarky response, but instead, he just pointed at the tickets folded neatly in my itinerary and gave me a grimace. Glancing down, I realized he was indicating the date of our Chichen Itza tour on the tickets that was dated for yesterday.
“Oh my god.” I whispered as I exhaled a sigh.
“Yikes, you messed up the booking for the tour today? Wasn’t dad really excited for that?” My brother commented with a raised volume that had evil intents.
That’s when my dad got up and everything seemed like it was going to be spiraling downwards. I felt the glistening morning sun rays fighting with the brewing storm in hotel room 1246.
“I–” before I could defend myself, I was abruptly cut off by my father’s furious voice.
“Did I hear that correctly? How could you be so irresponsible? Do you know how much money you just wasted? Was it that hard to double check what you’re booking? When we get home, I expect you to get every penny back.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to blink them away. One minor oversight overshadowed everything else I had done, but I had to fix this somehow. Digging through my mind, I found up some unexpected gold.
“I heard about a free bike tour around Puerto Morelos today, we could do that instead.” I uttered as I swallowed down a lump in my throat.
“Well, it’s not like we have anything else to do thanks to you,” was the extent of his response, accompanied by a deep sigh. It seemed that he had ultimately conceded the argument.
As the time for the bike tour finally approached, we all proceeded toward our designated meeting point, our steps accompanied by a conspicuous silence that hung in the air. Our bright and bubbly bike guide helped slowly ease the tense atmosphere as she explained some basic rules and safety guidelines regarding the tour. Before we knew it, it was time to hop on the bikes. We were all forced to wear a neon bright safety vest and matching helmet that we shared some laughs over because we would’ve much rather gotten lost or than look like a human highlighter.
Being able to bike through the town of Puerto Morelos and seeing the locals was a nice break from the seemingly artificial lifestyle of Cancun, I felt a greater sense of belonging. The farther we ventured from the hotel, the rougher and more unpaved the roads were, causing my grip on the bicycle handles to tighten with unease. Despite the blazing sun and sweat forming in my helmet, I felt the cooling breeze and the scent of well-seasoned meat that delighted my nose, causing my grip to loosen. I felt my biking gradually improve but my exhaustion was catching up to me. Just when I was on the verge to give up, the tour guide guided us right into a small village where the delightful aroma intensified.
As I entered, to my right was an older Mexican woman exchanging a kind smile and a hearty wave to welcome us, as she skillfully flattens some tortillas with a wooden contraption. As a reward for biking two miles to get here, the tour guide said we’d be getting to try some food for the price of nothing but sweat and fatigue. And nothing beats the word free for my frugal father. When we found seats in the modest dining area made up of small wooden chairs, they brought out a plate of tacos that seemed to belong in a museum. As I bit into it, a burst of flavors filled my mouth, and I can tell from my family of foodie’s reactions that it was very much worth it. The juicy and tender meat with a soft tortilla was something I couldn’t imagine being able to buy back home, an experience found nowhere else. This was worth every cent that was lost on the Chichen Itza tour and from the reaction of his brightly lit eyes and drool, I’m sure my dad thought so too.
Hey Laura,
Thank you for sharing. This narrative seems to lean on drama, a tense retelling of a life story. The shape of your story seems to follow the generic beat, with a conflict that deepens and eventually becomes resolved.
The introduction clearly motions that you’d be recounting a memory of “going with the flow,” and this expectation is satisfied over the course of the narrative. I see that you emphasized the rising action, building up to the climax when you discuss the biking event. The falling action cushions the story beautifully.
My concern is that this story goes over the word count. It’s unfortunate that your descriptions will have to be cut short in some areas. Because of this, I would suggest that your second and third paragraphs be condensed, particularly the third one.
I believe you also have an opportunity to make use of a symbol here: water. You set the groundwork in the introduction for this but focused more on the descriptions of the actual event in the rest of the story. The only other moment this idea of water seems to persist is when you say, “I felt the glistening morning sun rays fighting with the brewing storm in hotel room 1246,” as well as descriptions of tears and sweat. This symbol of water can definitely be weaved into your story, if you wished to do so.
There are some grammatical concerns that I have, mainly to do with wording:
“The notions of being an adventurous and spontaneous spirit seemed distant, residing beyond the boundaries of my reality, until it wasn’t.”
I would “use “notion” instead of “notions.”
“My recollections of our last family getaway are vague at best, consisting of my perspective from about four feet above the ground.”
At first read, I wasn’t sure what you meant by the second half of the sentence.
“I speculate that perhaps he won the lottery and camouflaged his newfound wealth with an air of generosity with the disappearance of his habitual frugality.”
It was a little difficult to read this line because of this phrase “camouflaged his newfound wealth with an air of generosity with the disappearance of his habitual frugality.” The way it reads is a bit overloaded because of the two with’s.
Overall, your essay was very well written. The dialogue struck me in particular. It was definitely a work one can find sympathetic, if not empathetic to. Thank you for sharing this story with us.
Jacey Ngo
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Hi Laura,
Thanks for sharing. The shape of your story was easy to follow, each point is developed. Your introduction is really strong. I think the falling action to the resolution of your piece was also strong in the sense that the ending of your piece was satisfactory and touching.
The main thing I think you should improve is the third paragraph. At first I was confused and thought that she was depicting a list she wrote. Then the next paragraph I realized that you were going through the process of going to the airport, getting on the plane, and landing. But once I did realize that you were just explaining what happened, I didn’t see the importance of it. In the previous paragraphs, you explain your need to plan things out. So I think that this paragraph isn’t needed as it doesn’t really do anything to add to the development this habit. I also think cutting down on some of the descriptions towards the end like when you’re describing getting on the tour and the helmets, that way you can condense your work and connect this paragraph with the actual depictions of the tour.
A minor thing is I think you should take out the “therefore” in the last sentence of your second paragraph just because it makes the piece feel like a speech instead of a narrative. Also, vary your word choice in the last paragraph and not use “as” to start your sentences.
Thank you again for sharing!
Naomi Guerrier
Laura,
I enjoyed reading your first-person dramatic narrative. The piece became more personal as it progressed, allowing smooth transitions between the beats of the story as well as the emotions associated with this teachable moment. The lede created clear expectations of the stress of keeping routines and making everything perfect, and the eventual breakdown of that. The introduction, rising action, and climax were able to embody that. However, the falling action and resolution of your piece brought up an unexpected recovery and many new emotions. The part of this that resonated with me the most was the dialogue; it captured and expressed the atmosphere concisely. The overall flow of the narrative was great and it brought me through the story.
There are some things I think would help with the flow and the narrative in general. I think that the first three paragraphs could be tweaked so that the introduction takes up less space, and allows the rising action to feel a little more intense. The third paragraph was a little confusing. I thought that it was overviewing the flight information, but it was the actual flight in action. I feel like you could change that to more descriptions of the interaction between you and your little brother leading to the wake of your father. You could include mentions of your brother’s change in position from facing you to your father who was asleep. Then you could add a time of silence for when your dad wakes up, your tense speech and body language, your dad processing what he just heard, and then his dialogue.
Thank you for sharing such a personal piece.