Johnny America

 

Gifts

by

Illustration of video game systems.

With his bare hands, my big broth­er Devin can crush a lump of coal in­to a PlaySta­tion 5. Pres­sure makes di­a­monds, sure. But for Devin, pres­sure makes video games. An Xbox 360. The new Call of Du­ty. A Nin­ten­do Switch. Every­one has a gift. And, over the years, Devin’s gift has saved me about twen­ty thou­sand dol­lars (maybe more). So you can see why I re­act­ed the way I did that night in his den. My old­er broth­er faced a roar­ing fire with wor­ried eyes, swirling a glass of red with his mag­ic left hand. 

Devin said, “I mean it, I’m done. No more crush­ing coal in­to video games.” 

Every hol­i­day I pre­pare for this mo­ment, but the shock still made me dizzy. It was the week be­fore Christ­mas, and I need­ed games and sys­tems for my five children!

“Let’s talk about it,” I said. 

“No. All you do is talk. Not this time. Sony, Nin­ten­do, Mi­crosoft — I’ve robbed them for decades. It isn’t right!” 

Like I said, every­one has a gift. Mine kicked in­to gear. “Rob­bing Nin­ten­do? Dev, bud­dy. They’re worth bil­lions! Crush­ing some coal so your nieces and nephews have a good Christ­mas, that’s not hurt­ing Mario and Luigi.” 

Devin sipped his wine dis­mis­sive­ly. “Lis­ten up, id­iot. This is about moral­i­ty. Right and wrong. We on­ly get one shot at this thing called life.” 

My big broth­er, al­ways so dra­mat­ic. “You know the sto­ry of Robin Hood?” 

Devin’s fore­head wrin­kled. “Steal from the rich, give to the poor. Hm­mm. I nev­er con­sid­ered the Robin Hood an­gle. You’re right. There are dif­fer­ent de­grees of crime.” 

“Lit­er­al­ly. Felonies through in­frac­tions. Plus, these cor­po­ra­tions don’t care about the cus­tomer.”

The fire popped in the fire­place. “Maybe. But in this case, the steal­ing isn’t jus­ti­fied. If I was turn­ing coal in­to, say, loaves of bread for the hun­gry, things might be different.” 

“Not nec­es­sar­i­ly. Su­per­heroes smash up en­tire cities, small busi­ness­es and all. They don’t let mil­lions in prop­er­ty dam­ages stop them. They choose the greater good.” 

“The greater good… you’re say­ing that, in­stead of fo­cus­ing on the neg­a­tive as­pects of my crimes, I should fo­cus on how hap­py I’m mak­ing your kids?” 

“Par­tial­ly, bro. Yeah. Hap­pi­ness, but not for the sake of sim­ple re­tail ther­a­py. Kids now-adays, they’re so mean about video games. If you don’t have the lat­est and great­est, you’re ba­si­cal­ly an out­cast. Give your nieces and nephews the gift of so­cial rel­e­van­cy this Christmas.” 

Devin let out a laugh. “You think I’m stu­pid. You once again saved the shop­ping un­til last minute. Is every­thing sold out? Ei­ther that or you’re be­ing cheap.” 

“Sure, Dev. If you must know, I’m a lit­tle late with the shop­ping. And, yeah, things aren’t so great for me down at work.” I pre­tend­ed to lose pa­tience, stomp­ing my snow boot on his shag car­pet. “But, come on! Help­ing my kids, sav­ing me mon­ey. Those are what­ev­er. The re­al rea­son you need to do this is be­cause you can’t waste your gift.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

Not fair. No one else in hu­man his­to­ry can crush coal in­to a Sega Gen­e­sis. Every morn­ing I wake up wish­ing I could turn a black rock in­to a Game Boy Ad­vance. Un­for­tu­nate­ly, wish­ing for gifts doesn’t work.” 

“Just be­cause I can do some­thing, that doesn’t mean I have to.” 

“Is that what you would tell the cre­ator of the uni­verse? That even though they gave you a gift, it shouldn’t be shared?” I knew Devin be­lieved some­one or some­thing cre­at­ed the uni­verse. And I used it against him. 

Devin hes­i­tat­ed. “You mean… why would the cre­ator of the uni­verse give me this abil­i­ty, if they didn’t want me to use it?” 

“Ex­act­ly.” 

Devin sipped wine, think­ing out loud: “What­ev­er made me, it wasn’t an ac­ci­dent. There­fore my gift wasn’t an ac­ci­dent. In­ter­est­ing. An­oth­er un­con­sid­ered an­gle.” My broth­er thought it through some more, blink­ing at the blaz­ing fire. “You’re right. Bu —”

I hopped out of the leather re­clin­er. I gave my big broth­er a hug. “You’re think­ing clear­ly again, you gor­geous mo­ron. Of course we can’t waste our gifts. Now, I need five sys­tems. A PlaySta—” 

“Hang on. You’re right. But even though the cre­ator of the uni­verse made me this way, I see it as a test. They’re test­ing how I’ll use the gift. They’re study­ing my re­sponse. No, broth­er. My coal-crush­ing-video-game days are done. You can tell the kid­dos sor­ry, but their uncle’s retired.” 

We were made the way we were made for a rea­son. Be thank­ful for that. I know I am. The fork in the road forced me left, and my gift was ready for it. Had been for years. 

“Fine, Dev,” I said, a wide smile grac­ing my face. “You win. You’re the boss. Let’s drop this talk of coal crush­ing and video games.” I reached in my bag, pro­duc­ing two bot­tles of red wine. “I bought a Bor­deaux and a Pinot. Which first?” 

“Now there’s the lit­tle broth­er I know and love! Pinot, of course.” 

I poured the first few glass­es, and the rest was his­to­ry. I didn’t suc­ceed in per­suad­ing Devin to crush coal in­to video games. I did, how­ev­er, suc­ceed in per­suad­ing him to get ripped. There’s al­ways a way for­ward with my gift. And when Devin passed out in his re­clin­er from too much booze, I trudged out­side through two feet of snow to my truck for a bag of coal. Once back in­side the den, I opened my brother’s hand. I placed the black rock in his palm.“It’s im­por­tant we don’t waste our gifts,” I said, now con­trol­ling both Devin’s hands. The last step was in front of me. I shout­ed, “Nin­ten­do Switch!” And brought my brother’s palms to­geth­er. A loud POP pierced the cozy room.

Filed under Fiction on December 20th, 2024

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