Donnie’s a dork and all. But kind of a smart dork.
Dear Dad,
Goodness. Your letters lately really freak me out. I hope you’re done with the woods.
I don’t know if you’ve read all my letters yet, but I want to tell you about this day I spent fishing with Donnie. I’ve always thought Donnie was kind of a goof. The type of guy who never plans ahead and just kind of wanders around doing what he wants to right then. I’m not sure I still feel that way.
Donnie spent the night last Friday. His mom dropped him off after the basketball game I didn’t play in. We ate frozen pizzas—we cooked them first!—and then watched TV. We didn’t stay up very late this time, so the shows didn’t get very scary.
Donnie woke me up really early in the morning and we scarfed down some Cheerios—Donnie puts a ton of sugar on his Cheerios, by the way—and then went down to the beach. We rowed the aluminum boat out to the buoy line and tied off and then started fishing. Actually, Donnie started fishing. I dropped a line over the side and went back to sleep. I was all bundled up in ski clothes and it was still pretty much dark out. It felt kind of nice to nod off in a rocking boat.
I woke up about an hour later when the sun was really shining. Donnie hadn’t caught anything yet, but he said he’d had about a million bites. I said, “Yeah, but you haven’t caught anything.” He said, “Yeah, but at least I’m trying. Just like at school.” I said, “What’s that supposed to mean?
“I don’t know,” Donnie said. “You just kind of drift along.”
“That’s because it’s so stupid.”
“Yeah, maybe, but you’re there. And you can’t change that. So…”
“So what?”
“So, like, I’ve had three girlfriends this year—“
“And that seems smart to you?”
“I’m not talking about smart. I’m talking about—I don’t know. I’m talking about, you know, about doing stuff instead of not doing stuff. I’m doing stuff.”
“Yeah. Stupid stuff like having three girlfriends who are all stupid.”
“That’s not cool. And anyway, I’d rather have three stupid girlfriends than no girldfriends.”
“I had a girlfriend.”
“Yeah. Misty Lee. And you’re saying she wasn’t stupid?”
“No, she was definitely stupid.” We both laughed at that one. Which was kind of a relief, because we were both getting pissed at each other.
Anyway, Donnie’s a dork and all. But I think he said some kind of smart stuff, in his own dorky way.
Right about then I got a bite on my line. I pulled in this nasty looking flounder. I was about to throw it back when Donnie told me to keep it. “It’s better than nothing,” he said.
Your son,
Trevor
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