Bringing Childhood to the Present Day

There was an unexplained gap before the words, "I don't think we should be doing this," were whispered. I froze in my tracks. As soon as I turned, I saw my brother James's anxious face staring back at me. I guess I looked him up as much as someone who is only a foot shorter can. My eight-year-old face was screaming, "Stop being a coward, and do something dumb with me!" in whatever manner it could manage. It was a success. After an angry sigh that engulfed his entire upper body, his uneasy pause resumed to a begrudging creep.

When I arrived in Lafayette, Tennessee, about an hour north of Nashville, in early November, I was surprised to see that the town was covered with snow. When you're eight, the afternoon air has a chilly, sharp feel to it that never seems to fade away. We had all of our windows open, resulting in the curtains doing a slow, methodical two-step that occasionally morphed into a full-blown jazzy swing. Brandi, my four-year-old sister, was sitting on the back porch alone. Basically. Despite the mother's attacks on her kittens, she appeared unfazed as she cared for the new arrivals. My mother was getting ready for her nightly two-hour drive to Vanderbilt Children's Hospital from our house. But even though she was a skilled charge nurse at the time of this narrative, she was having trouble removing the curlers from her hair. Then there was my father; he had just completed supper and was in the garage tinkering with one of his vehicle projects as his nighttime meditation. For this reason, there were hushed murmurs and frosty looks between the brothers. With just the door to the garage between us and certain death, James and I embarked on a secret mission.

Door to Gaga's room was next to the garage door. My maternal grandmother, often referred to as "Gaga," had already passed away a long time ago. Even though she had only stayed in the room for a few minutes, we nevertheless referred to it as "Gaga's room" in our family. Practically speaking, it served as both a guest bedroom and a storage space for furniture. Things that had either lost or never had a proper place to call home in our home ended up in this spot. For the past month, my siblings and I have been told to stay away from that area since we all know what that means: Christmas presents. With the door closed, James could see the large flat-screen TV. Every now and again, my parents would tease me with the possibility of getting an Xbox 360 as a Christmas present, so I knew it was there. Brandi, on the other hand, was the most positive that there were more kittens waiting for her outside the door. James and I listened outside the door but could not hear any meowing. In my ignorance, I asked myself, "Does this show that I'm right, or that the kittens are dead?"

Standing on the forefoot of his right foot with his left arm extended to maximize his range, James stretched his long thin fingers to the trim above the door. Until something fell from the top, his index finger cautiously slid from one end to the other. We looked at each other, then dived in unison to avoid the falling key making a sound. As our pretzel-like bodies jockeyed for control of the key, the loud bang that followed was not caused by it. "Shh," he said in a monotone, completely oblivious to the irony. He was in charge of the key, therefore he could open the door. As long as anyone came to examine the crash, we stayed in our tangled position to keep an ear out for their footsteps. There was no one to greet me. Finally, after a few minutes of reorganization, we were ready to go, and he gently entered the door with the key In a manner that only a door that isn't meant to be opened can, the knob creaked as it was turned.

Upon entering, I was surprised to see that the room appeared just as it had when I last visited. Gaga's long-abandoned bedroom set was just as cozy and retro as she remembered it from her teen years. Every flat surface was adorned with elaborate doilies and meticulously designed floral patterns. Several formerly open places were now filled with boxes in addition to her personal belongings. However, one package in particular jumped out as peculiar... It was a large cardboard box with a questionable quilt covering it. We both had a sly smirk on our faces. I could tell James' wish for a big-screen TV, at around two feet wide and three feet high, was not going to be fulfilled within this box. It's time to find out if it was full of cats or a gaming system.

We pulled up on the handle as we shut the door behind us, hoping it would lessen the squeak. To avoid disturbing the floor, we walked cautiously towards the box. It happened regardless. We kept tiptoeing until we got to the box, because that's what we were supposed to do. As we all sat down in silence, we grabbed one end of the quilt that had been covering the box, and opened it to reveal its contents. As quickly as it had happened, I screamed in tandem with my brother's disappointed cry. Despite our best efforts, the harm had already been done. It was only after I heard the garage door slam open and three heavy steps toward the guest room that I realized that someone was in the house. Those were the only two things on my mind as I saw the shadowy figures standing in front of the door of Gaga's room, as if they were looking for the key that was still in James's grasp. As soon as the door slammed shut behind me, the room was illuminated by the light and my cheeky, guilt-stricken smile.

In the doorway, I could only make out a vague outline of his face. Despite the garage door being closed behind him, a brilliant afternoon sun was squarely behind his torso. I pondered the contents of the box before he spoke a word. This was the console I had been craving for so long. It occurred to me that the Xbox 360 Elite had been the toy of a lifetime that I had hoped for throughout the past two holidays and on my birthday. Many of my pals had heard about it from me in advance. This is the second year in a row that I have said, "I'll get it this Christmas." Several of my buddies at school had Xboxes, and I'd play them when I went over to play when I visited. With my own Xbox, I could play "Gears of War" with my friends every night of the week, and that was the best part of the whole thing. It was also a perk that none of my buddies owned the Xbox "Elite" version. Something to be proud of, a high-end limited edition. One problem, however: there was no "Gears of War" in the package. 'Shrek: The Video Game' was substituted instead. Mom and Dad gave me something nice, but it wasn't what I wanted. If I didn't have a game to play with my buddies, what good was my new Xbox? As I raised my eyes to meet my father's, a flurry of ideas flew through my head. Because James had left, I observed that his stare was solely focused on me.

When you entered this chamber, "Son, what did I tell you about it?"

It's not going to," I said slyly, my gaze now fixed on my intertwined hands.

"So, what brings you here today?"

As I stated up front, "I wanted to see if James was telling the truth."

How did James put it? I caught a glimpse of James' cartoonishly poked head out from behind one of the towers of boxes just then. Snitches get stitches, and his look delivered the message better than any other brother's can.

He said there were kittens in this box for Brandi, and I... wanted to save them... Daddy, I'm so sorry. He'd been smitten by the young lady since they were both eight years old.

He exhaled as he ran his hand through his hair, letting out a sigh of relief. The things your brother says are ridiculous, friend. Disregard his advice. ...It appears that you've also opened the box... "Was it what you expected?" In anticipation, I could see a proud smile creep across his face.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! In anticipation of Christmas, I am ecstatic Is it possible for me to begin playing it right away? My search is over!

He chuckled as he walked over and kneeled down beside me, grabbing my hand. "You can't play it right now. " For the sake of your mother's peace of mind, don't mention anything you see in here to your siblings. To avoid making them feel like they're missing out on something, "OK?"

Father: "I see now. It's all in your hands now! But, perhaps, I can play it a few times before Christmas?"

I could hear my mother pleading with everyone to join her at the dinner table from the kitchen. He called out, "Come on, friend," and he nodded. "Let's have something to eat," I said. Then, as we were leaving Gaga's room, he turned around and laughed, "You too, James. "Come on, doofus.'" We had a good laugh as we made our way to the table.

In the spirit of the season, I received an Xbox 360 Elite for Christmas, my first foray into the world of social media and interactivity. This was the first time I ever used a phone, computer, or even cable TV to contact with the outside world, so for me, it was a watershed moment. Having a console but not the game my friends wanted pushed me to write an in-depth study dissertation on video game violence and how it ties to real-world violence to convince my parents to let me get the console. In the course of my studies, I developed a lifelong love of books, writing, and the study of human behavior. Because of this course I was able to complete this paper. As a result of this medium, I was able to establish and sustain a number of beneficial relationships throughout my chaotic childhood. Those friendships were the foundation for an awkward youth that allowed me to come out into the world with a level of confidence and swagger that had previously been unattainable. My fondest recollection is of that console and how I found it, even though it seemed innocuous at the time. It taught me that a gift and a present are vastly different. To me, a present is a gift that changes me and that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. I cannot recall how many gifts I have received in my life, but a present is a gift that changes me. As a result, a gift is a one-time thing, whereas a present is always there.