The wind carried the smell of stale water and algae directly into my face. Generally, this would be an off-putting smell but with time and a lot of patience, any person would get used to it I assume. Plus, the smell of steaks from my neighbor’s outdoor grill always seemed to counteract the odor. The sun shone through the leaves of the avocado tree in our backyard while the light hitting the lake’s surface would reflect across the yard. If I could get past the smell, this could be a cool place to set up shop, I thought as I viewed my new corner of land with a book in hand. This would be my future refuge and prison during the summer.

             Now, that’s not to say I did not enjoy my time there, but it was not a riveting experience in the beginning. I was content staying indoors, twiddling my thumbs, and playing video games on my 3DS like I believed any normal kid at the ripe old age of 11 was doing. Unfortunately, enough, my mother had other plans for me. She had gotten sick of my lounging as if I had nothing to do, wasting my “youth” away from the screen to screen. After careful planning and calculation from her evil parent brain, as I had imagined at that age, she had come to the decision. I was to start reading books of her choice, every day. To my prepubescent brain, this seemed like the end of the world, as I’d be dedicating my time to literature and learning during my summer break rather than hitting my highest score on Mario Kart. When she makes up her mind, there is no changing it. That same day, I walked into her home office without protest to see what she had in store for me. “What books do you have in mind?” I had asked her cautiously. She grinned- a smile that struck fear in me at the time, as she reached under her desk, grabbing an old cardboard box. I patiently waited as she opened it revealing a stack of dusty books she had stored from her past. With haste, she plopped the stack of books into my arms and with nothing, but sarcasm said, “Have fun!”

             I rummaged through the books hoping to find anything that would catch my interest and keep my very short attention span. The box consisted of several books from old kid-detective series like the Hardy boys and Nancy Drew, spy thrillers by John Grisham and Tom Clancy. I considered the spy books cool but wanted to go with a safer and less complex option (also one that could get me back inside quicker). So, I chose the first Hardy Boys book and ran with it. As I read the synopsis, I thought to myself “Maybe this won’t be so bad” and “There are worse things to do I guess.” With the book and water bottle in hand, and a can-do attitude, I set out for a large chair in the backyard.

             The neighborhood I was living in at the time would be a sight for sore eyes if it didn’t cause the soreness, to begin with. My mother and I moved here after the recession and a few years of financial hardships but that didn’t stop us from making it a home. We still had struggles ahead of us but so did many at the time. This seemed to be the case for a lot of families that had also moved into this neighborhood due to the housing market crash. Who knew an economic crisis would be this drastic? Nonetheless, we still managed to get by as much as we could in our new environment.

It was a row of small houses, some damaged by the constant hurricanes and tropical storms that had been plaguing Florida that year. Large coconut and different fruit trees would tower over the houses providing shade from the relentless sun that had stripped most of the houses of their color. It was a typical Florida neighborhood except for the freshwater lake in the center. Now I use the term “freshwater” loosely as that water was anything but fresh. It was stagnant. Just a big green, algae-filled mess stinking up the neighborhood. On the other hand, it did make for a good reading spot. So, with a sigh and iPod blasting in my ears, I sat in front of the lake and opened the book for the first time. It was an interesting book solely since it was different from the books my school usually assigned me. It described two brothers and their antics while solving mysterious cases. The language and writing felt outdated at times, but I still tried to enjoy it, nonetheless. I got 5 chapters into the book before giving up out of boredom. Try as I might, I could not finish the book as I realized I had no interest in it. My mother was not happy with my unwillingness to continue, so I suggested a compromise.

             The next time we went on a grocery trip to the nearest Publix, we added an extra stop to our list. There happened to be a Barnes and Noble near the area, so it wasn’t any trouble for her, although she was still on the fence about agreeing to allow me to choose my book to read. That and the fact I had to refer to her literature as “old people books”. We entered the bookstore in hopes we could find a book that did not cause me to nap in the middle of the day. After an hour of searching, a book caught her eye. She asked me if I was still into Greek mythology, as I was a big nerd for that kind of thing when I was younger. I told her “Yes.” She placed in front of me a small book with a colorful blue design. It was Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters. It looked interesting enough, so she bought it for me, and we went on our merry way.

This time around, this book had a different effect on me. With eyes glued and fingers flipping through pages, I was fully immersed in the story of this boy around my age-fighting monsters and gods of legend. Reading became less of a chore and more of a source of enjoyment. It also became a form of escape for me and allowed me to be in my own little world that fueled my creativity and imagination. It taught me that even if you may be struggling, no matter what it may be, there will always be something that brings you joy or fulfillment or even something to pass the time. I hope that everyone can find that source of comfort like I had found with books. After re-reading the book several times, my mom had gotten me the rest of the series, as well as other books she felt I might have an interest in. Although reluctant at first, I’m glad she encouraged me to begin my journey into reading. It invigorated my love for literature, which I still have to this day. Not enough love to finish those Hardy Boys books though. I like being awake while I read.