On an ordinary day in November, my father took me to the harbor. We often visited the harbor, watching the boats and searching for crabs along the embankment. On this day, however, my father wanted to walk down to the docks. My father was a rule breaker by nature, and the smartest man I have ever known, possessing a genius IQ. So, on this day, when he decided to try his luck on the gated keypad that barred entrance to the docks, I was not surprised when he got the combination right.
As an overly cautious child, I was horrified by the look of excitement in his eyes, knowing we were headed towards trouble. “Let’s go!” he shouted at me as he sprinted down the ramp towards the water. I followed slowly, filled with trepidation, as I watched him discover an abandoned kayak at the edge of a dock. “Dad, no!” I cried out, as he pushed the kayak into the water and slipped into a life vest. “Hurry up, before someone comes!” He lowered himself into the kayak and grabbed the paddle. I wanted to cry, begging him to get out, but he had that look that I knew too well. There was no stopping him. He handed me the other life vest and tapped the seat in front of him. “Come on, we got to go before someone catches us!” I slowly lowered myself into the wobbly kayak and grabbed my paddle, knowing there was no use in trying to fight him.
As we floated out from between the boats and headed towards the open sea, he warned me, “paddle faster! We don’t want the harbor master to see us!” I start paddling ferociously towards the islands that face the shoreline. When we hit the open ocean, I ask, “dad, are we going to get arrested?” He starts laughing and whispers in my ear, “happy birthday!” He rented the kayak as a surprise for my upcoming birthday, wanting to do something special without my siblings. When he saw the look of fear on my face when he opened the gate, he couldn’t resist. “Dad! I thought we stole this kayak!” He laughed again, “I know. You need to live a little.” We paddled peacefully for hours along the coast of Southern California, before returning to the harbor to return the kayak.
My father died the following year, when I was eleven, but this memory lives on forever and still makes me smile.