By Devan Bierbrauer You watch the sun turn your skin a pinkish-red as your yellow and orange life jacket chafes away at your shoulders. It’s a weekend in July, and the sun beats down from its unadulterated perch in the sky. Some of the kids at school have cabins they go to on the weekends or pools to swim in, the chlorine turning their hair a sick shade of green; you have a boat and Beer Can Island, your summer home. Looking out over the dark, murky waters of the St. Croix river, you and Robbie, your best friend, add the final touches to your sandcastles, fully understanding your creations will be destroyed either by the island drunks or their toddlers. Your mom lounges in a…