Palmer House

You smirk at your little brother, and he squints harder at the screen. You're both bashing buttons like it's going out of style, and you're about to bring it back.

Lester
(Screaming) You SUCK!!

Keem
You're just mad.

Lester
(Bluffing, poorly.) You're terrible at this, Hakeem.

Keem
(Annoyed.) I told you not to call me that. I don't want people hearing my full name.

Lester
Do I get a nickname?

Keem
When you've earned it.

SMASH! You punch his fighter so hard, it bursts into pixels. You're disappointed to be playing without gore-mode, but the developers made up for it with some sweet effects. Lester looks pissed.

Keem
(Smug) Looks like I'm winning.

Bullets are flying across laser streams, spaceships are crashing in the distance. The game is called Watchclock. It's the world's first Fighting Game / Team Shooter mashup, and it's probably the hottest game ever to exist. Both because it's hella popular, and because everyone in it looks like a clay-sculpted supermodel sex god. It's the reason you can't lend the game to him – his smaller mind can't help itself, if he's left alone for too long. You, on the other hand, are a titan of self-control. At least, when there's other people around. You snap back to it – he's not ready to give up just yet, so he hits the shoulder buttons on his controller (custom-mapped to 'melee' and 'grenade'), whacking your virtual soldier in the face while simultaneously planting a sticky bomb on your chest. You don't even flinch – it's all over, and you've accepted your demise. It's okay, though. Keem and Lester are still the best on the block.

Keem
Let's check the footage.

Lester
Yeah, whatever.

Lester unplugs the capture device from the console, and you check the audio recording. Within an hour, you've finished editing the video, and have a publishable Playalong.

Keem
We could upload this one to WeSee, it's good.

Lester
Nobody watches our vids.

Keem
Not if we don't share them.

You run a hand through your thick, black curly hair. He copies you, like little bros do, with his straight blond locks. The warmth from the house's furnace has both of you sweating, even though it's freezing outside. Your skin is darker than his, you once again notice, as you wipe the sweat from your brow. You remember that the two of you don't look related, because you aren't, by blood. He doesn't seem to mind, though. You could learn a thing or two from him, you think.
You post the video. What will you do if you ever become famous? What will he do, you wonder? If you're seen by gamers across the world, would you want someone like him at your side? Could you share the fame and riches? Would you be jealous of each other's girlfriends? He could double-cross you in your prime time, keep it all to himself. Somehow, you don't think he will. Maybe it's his stupid grin.

Blessa
(Shouting)
TIME TO EAT!

Your step-mom, and his mom by birth, is shouting. Better go. You hop off the bed, and leave your room. You enter the kitchen.

Blessa
(Serving food) Lunch is ready.

Ermias
(Drinking coffee) Were you two gaming again?

Lester
Yeah! Watchclock.

Keem
Lester kicked my ass again.

Lester
All I had to do was pick Racer, you always get distracted when you see her big, tight BUTT-

Blessa
(Mildly offended.) Language!

Ermias
(Oddly formal.) How nice. I was playing Larceny Car City earlier myself, having a peculiar adventure. You see, one of the police officers was actually corrupt, as is sometimes the case in real life-

Keem
Dad, come on. It's not that deep.

Ermias
I think it is! Video games are art, are they not? They can tell an engrossing and rich cultural tale, using clever symbolism and metaphors as vehicles, you might say...

He winks.

Ermias
...for a larger theme.

Lester
(Secondhand embarrassed.) Oh my god.

Ermias
It can even offer a critique on society, or politics, or interpersonal relations.

Keem
It's just a game, dude! You shoot fools, BLAT BLAT! They drop dead. You win, the end.

Ermias
If that's how you play it, then yes. Even something as simple as Polly Road – a virtual retelling of the old joke, "why did the chicken cross the road" – can be an allegory for the dangers of living as an unprotected minority in a cruel city, where you're seen as nothing but expendable livestock. Sound familiar, anyone?

You, and everyone else in the room, pause and wait for him to say it, concealing your angry boredom.

Ermias
(Subdued, but still loud.) SEGREGATION?!

Keem
Yes, dad, Polly Road is about segregation.

Lester
(Sarcastic.) That's why your extra lives are just other chickens... and why eating corn powers you up. It's about survival on fungible resources, in a hostile system.

Ermias
Why... that's so insightful, I'd never made that connection. Good for you, Lester.

Keem
(Firsthand embarrassed.) Shut uuuuup, bro.

Blessa
If these games are racist against your people, why play them? All I hear from the TV these days is stereotypes, violence, and slurs. Then you turn on your game, and it's worse!

Keem
Nobody said the chicken game was racist, just that it's an 'allegory'.

Ermias
(Ignoring Keem.) BECAUSE, my father once told me... "it is wise to acknowledge the perspective of those who see things from the other side of the blade." That was a Grommel Grimshaw quote. It means that when fighting injustice, in the civil way that we must, the best thing you can do is understand where your enemies are coming from... and see if maybe, just maybe, you can still become friends.

You palm your face. That's the biggest load of crap you've heard all day.

Blessa
(To Ermias.) Not to be rude, hun, but when you talk like that, it makes you sound like a nerd.

Lester
Hey, I'M a nerd!

Keem
No you're not, dude. You're a gamer. Gamers win, nerds lose. Big difference.

Ermias
Why am I a nerd? Because cool people can't be educated?

Blessa
Because they're usually not this boring.

You snort through a sip of your orange juice, hoping your Nigerian father would take the joke and respond in kind – that he would stick up for himself this time. But instead, he sinks into his grey suit and pink tie, on his padded kitchen chair (for his back). He returns to his semi-sweet, creamy Pioneer's Brew instant-coffee, and adjusts the thick-rimmed and thicker-lensed glasses on the end of his wide, dark nose. He combs his hair at the table, like he usually does, with his other hand... pulpy dandruff streaks his black curls, as he runs his afro back into an even goofier German-Composer side-puff. Little black curls fall onto his newspaper, and one lands in your cereal just as you finish pouring it. You get so angry, you take it to the bathroom to flush, and decide to go without. He's completely socially inept, and he's dragging you down with him.

You wish your dad wasn't such a nerd. You may be a gamer, but Ermias? He takes meek to the next level, like he's trying to inherit the world. That's not how inheritance works – people don't leave what they care about to the person least qualified to use it. The estate doesn't belong to the klutz who's gonna lose the key. How he managed to land Blessa, a bombshell blondette with hips for days and a cake-shop in the back, is beyond you. You'd need calculus and astronomy to figure out why she's so out of this world, and why he's such a stick-in-the-mud. And how the hell these two celestial objects collided. Maybe if he had a backbone, Blessa wouldn't be divorcing him tomorrow, and taking your little brother with her. She hadn't even kept it secret – she told him, straight to his face, in front of everyone. And he sat there and took it, said, 'If that's what you think is best.' You swear to God he gets off on being cucked, or treated like shit. You wonder if you'll ever see either of them again. Probably not.

Does that sound about right, Mr. Palmer?

Keem
(Unsure.) Yeah, weirdly personal though. I feel like you're putting a lot of words in my mouth, and assuming things on my behalf. And I don't like the way you talk about my family.

Just doing my job. Mind if I continue?

Keem
Knock yourself out.

It's the next day. You return home from your mostly boring Snow Day at school, the third Snow Day in a row. You were only forced to attend because school is within walking distance. Unlike the others at Slate Middle School, you didn't get a dorm. Probably better to have a backyard and more shower time than a closet to sleep in, anyway.

Lester remains sick in his room, free from the burden of attendance. Like a good big brother, you check in on him, and he tosses a tissue box at your face. Making sure it doesn't contain wadded balls of paper and phlegm (or whatever else might be in there), you see that it's empty. You glance at the room – there they are, all over the floor. Full of... well, you'd rather not guess. Gross. Lester is playing Banana Boy: Action Hero, and not very well.

Keem
I thought you were smart, why're you playing some crappy cartoon movie tie-in? And losing?

Lester
It's actually pretty good, and really tough. That, or this level is broken. I'm not sure.

Keem
Real gamers don't play Banana Boy, dude.

Lester
Shut up, yes they do!

Blessa
(From the kitchen.) Real gamers play REAL GAMES, like FRISBEE!

Keem
Nobody plays Frisbee anymore, you dinosaur!

Blessa walks over, baking spoon in hand, wearing an apron.

Blessa
(Play-fighting.) I'm young enough to kick your ass, you brat!

The remark soars over your head like a bird, far beyond your willingness to comprehend. The way she calls you a brat lights something up inside you that you didn't know could be lit. There's sugar and flour on her nose – you briefly consider kissing it. Then you remember it's your brother's mom, and you cool it by blowing off some steam.

Keem
(Flustrated.) Yeah, whatever! I get it, kids need games for kids.

You throw your hands in the air, then walk over to your step-brother's console and eject the disc.

Lester
HEY! I was playing that!

Keem
You said yourself it was broken. Move over, we can play Pasta Bros.

Lester
Oh, MOVIE GAMES suck, but not PLAYABLE ADVERTISING for FROZEN PASTA.

Keem
They're Italian, they like pasta.

Lester
Everyone likes pasta.

Keem
These guys especially.

Blessa sees you interacting with Lester, and walks off. You stare at her as she leaves. You start to look down, at her pale blue jeans.

Lester
Keem!

Keem
What?

Lester
Pick your character already!

Keem
Yeah, obviously.

It's between Macaronio, Linguinio, and the pop rockers Lemona and Tangya. Each one has a special ability: faster running, higher jumps, floating, and projectiles. Lester has already picked Linguinio, expecting you to pick Macaronio like you always do. You decide to shake things up, and pick Lemona... partly because you want to see something hot and blonde.

Lester
What? Lemona? Gross, dude.

Keem
If you beat the game with Macaronio and Linguinio, you unlock Fusilio and Vermicellio, right?

Lester
Yeah, the Nasty Bros. Cause they eat all that garlic and cheese.

Keem
Well, if you go with Tangya, you get Alfredo the Waiter. And Lemona unlocks PeachRose, the hottest girl in the game.

Lester
So?

Keem
I heard if you do a cheat code, she'll kiss the screen, cause of a glitch with her graphics.

Lester
Oh, wow... uh. Yeah, that's cool. You're not, like, a weirdo at all, man.

Keem
Shut up! All men like women. It's the rules, since forever. Anyway, that's just if it works.

Lester
Has anyone else done it?

Keem
Nobody yet. We could be the first.

Lester
That would be sweet. If we put it online, I bet we'd get a million views!

Keem
Yeah, probably. We'll need some gear, better start saving up.

Lester
ACHOO!

Lester sneezes all over his controller, and your sweater. There are no tissues left, so he wipes it off on your sleeve.

Keem
(Appalled.) YO, HEY!!

Lester
What? You're already done school for the day.

Keem
(Rolling his eyes.) Whatever.

You take off your sweater, leaving your t-shirt on. Lester blows his nose into it, and your stomach turns. You hope the washer's free. On the other hand, you kind of hope you get sick. You'd be able to stay home from school. You'd get one more day with Blessa... she could make you some soup. Lester is a lucky kid.