The next morning, my parents had returned. Half of that time, I didn’t see my mother. She was in her bedroom most of the time. My father was up and about as though nothing was wrong. Then, I asked him about my present…

"Carlos!" my dad called quietly from upstairs.

I looked up at him from the television. I was watching a puppet show of some sort. "What is it, Daddy?"

"Come up stairs. Your mother has someone who would want to meet you."

Someone? I wasn’t expecting to hear "someone". "Something" would have been okay, but someone? I walked up the stairs and stood at my father’s side. He stood at a doorway that had used to be a spare room. "Go inside, Carlos. Your mother is waiting."

Slowly, I turned the doorknob and walked into the room. I hadn’t been in the room since I was two. The walls were painted yellow with little duck stencils on the walls. There were some small toys here and there…baby toys. I also recognized my old crib. My heart was pounding in my chest as I approached my mother.

I remember how she looked to this very day. Her long black hair was in a braid that hung down her back. It almost reached her behind. Her ears were pierced in three places, each with one tiny earring. She wore a long white gown, her nightgown, and she was seated in a rocking chair. When she looked up at me her eyes were weak and tired, but they still glimmered like the sun. In her arms was a pale yellow bundle.

"Hi, there, my young one," she spoke gently.

"Hi, Mommy," I replied timidly. I couldn’t take my eyes off the bundle. My mother smiled at me with her gentle way.

"This is your new little brother, Carlos. His name is Miguel, but we thought we would give him the nickname of Mikey. Come see your little brother."

I peeked at the tiny, tan face in the bundle. He had the same color skin of my mom and dad (we are both Native American and Spanish-American) and ebony black hair. He looked like I did when I was a baby. He wasn’t that different after all. "Hi, Mikey," I spoke, my voice still timid.

Mikey stirred and opened his eyes at me. When he saw me, he gave a little bit of a coo.

Mom smiled at me as she stroked my head. "He likes you already, Carlos. I’m not surprised. Ever since he came into the world, he must have known he had a brother waiting for him. It seems as though he already knew about you."

I looked up at my mother. I recognized that phrase "came into the world". This was my present. Mikey was my present. A little brother that I would be able to play with and talk to. It also meant that I had to share my toys and be nice to him when he stole my things. I suppose it was the look on my mom’s smooth face that made me forget about that.

"Thank you, Mommy," I replied. "I like my new brother."

Mom kissed the top of my head gently. "Now I have two special boys. A mother couldn’t be happier." She held me with her one free arm and Mikey in her other. I have a picture of that moment that my dad took a little while later. Every so often, Mikey and I sit together and try to remember what that first quiet moment was like between the two of us.

"Mom really loved us, didn’t she?" Mikey asked me once.

"Yeah, she did," I replied.
"I wish I could remember her."

I looked at my younger brother and put my arm around him. "I know. I wish I could, too."