The sun overhead beats down harshly against the blacktop. The tired flora along the road wilts quietly. Other Ryan pedals along the road, muttering to himself in frustration, “I can’t believe we’re leaving. It’s not fair!” The full bookbag shifts on his back as he rides, swaying from right to left pulling him to either side with each kick of the bicycle pedals. With a pant, he pulls up to 5th and Water street and stares out onto the still waters of the Ohio River. The subtle flow of the water softly pats against the shore steadily. Huffing through the exhaustion, he walks to the water’s edge and cups several handfuls of water and splashes his face and rubs the back of his neck to cool off. The sweltering heat wears on Other Ryan, drumming the tip of his nose and any other exposed flesh. Frustrated, he paces back and forth searching for stones to skip.
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