December, 1991

Adrian was six years old. He was on the playground just down the hill from his house. His parents weren’t there. No parents were there. He just had to be home before the streetlights came on.

He swung his pretend sword at his pretend enemy. It was a zombie, or maybe a mummy. Either way, he cut its head clean off. He jumped off the slide of the playground equipment and rolled onto the ground for extra dramatic effect.

“What are you playing?” a voice asked him.

He’d thought he was alone. He looked over and saw a kid that was probably his age, but bigger. Most kids Adrian’s age were bigger than him.

“Nothing,” he said.

“It looked like you were fighting something,” the kid said.

Adrian bit his lip.

“I’ve got a sword too,” the kid said. “I’m Hunter.”

“Adrian,” he answered, not making eye contact.

Hunter jumped up onto the ladder and climbed up onto the wooden bridge of the playground. “So what are we fighting?”

“Zombies,” Adrian said.

“Cool. I like blowing up zombies,” Hunter said.

Hunter reached into his pocket, and Adrian thought he was really going to pull something out, but he just pulled out a pretend object. “Watch this.”

“What is it?” Adrian asked.

“A bomb,” he said. “There’s like a million zombies under the bridge.”

Hunter pretended to throw the bomb off the edge of the bridge. He made a huge explosion sound with his mouth, and Adrian could almost see the zombies getting blown apart.

“I’ve got bombs too,” Adrian said.

“No,” Hunter said. “Only I can throw bombs.”

“Oh.” Adrian looked down at his pretend sword, wishing he had bombs too.

“Only one of us can be Link,” Hunter said.

“Who’s Link?”

Hunter looked up at him with wide eyes. “You don’t know who Link is?”

Adrian thought of all the cartoons he wasn’t allowed to watch. Of all the games he wasn’t allowed to play. He was embarrassed to admit he didn’t know.

“You should come over to my house tomorrow,” Hunter said. “I’ll show you.”

* * *

He went to Hunter’s house the next day. He told his parents he was playing outside. His parents always had to meet anyone he wanted to make friends with, and they had to meet their parents too. He had a feeling they wouldn’t like Hunter.

Hunter lived down the hill from Adrian, just on the other side of the playground. Hunter took him inside, and he heard loud music coming from upstairs.

“That’s just my brother. My parents work later. Come on, the Super Nintendo is in the basement.”

Adrian had goosebumps. The Super Nintendo. He’d played it at Kmart when his parents weren’t looking every chance he got, though they’d caught him plenty of times. He never got to play more than a minute or two before they caught him.

“Do you have Mario?” Adrian asked, wonder in his voice.

“Screw Mario,” Hunter said. “We’re playing Zelda.”

The basement was dark, and Hunter had to pull a string to turn the light on. The couch smelled bad and looked 100 years old. The wall was bare concrete, and there was only a tiny window up at the top of the wall, letting in the faintest light. It didn’t matter. As soon as Hunter turned on the Super Nintendo, all Adrian saw was the screen. The Super Nintendo was all the light he’d ever need.

Hunter didn’t let him play. Adrian just got to watch, but he didn’t care. He was mesmerized.

“So I can throw bombs just like I did on the playground,” Hunter said. He threw bombs. He had a freaking boomerang, and a grappling hook. It was the coolest thing Adrian had ever seen.

“It’s like you’re playing a cartoon,” Adrian said, awe in his voice.

“This is my brother’s save,” Hunter said. “I’m not supposed to play on it, but he has all the cool stuff. This is the Master Sword.”

Link swung his sword, and a bolt of energy blasted out from the sword, killing an armored guard.

“Woah,” Adrian said. “Can...can I try?”

“No,” Hunter said. “You don’t know how to play. Now watch this.”

Adrian watched. He didn’t ask to play again.

He watched every day after dinner. He never got to play, but it hardly mattered. Every night when he came home, he lied to his parents about where he’d been and what he’d done. He told them he’d been playing on the playground. He said he met a kid named Jake. They’d played catch. It was a lot of fun, he’d told them. Then he’d go to bed, and he dreamt he was Link. He dreamt he held that grey controller in his hands. That he’d pressed those purple buttons.

One night, weeks later, they were in Hunter’s basement when the doorbell rang. “I’ll be right back,” Hunter said.

Hunter stomped up the stairs, and Adrian’s eyes moved to the controller. It was just there on the couch beside him. Link was standing just outside Hyrule Castle, waiting for Adrian to take control of him. He knew Hunter would yell at him if he caught him playing, but he couldn’t resist. He snatched up the controller and started to play.

He’d watched Hunter play enough to know all the controls. He’d played this game so much in his dreams that it just felt right. It felt natural.

He threw bombs. He swung the Master Sword, he picked off enemies with the bow, he–

“Adrian!”

It was his mom’s voice.

He looked up to the stairs, the holy controller still in his hands. She looked down at him holding the controller. Hunter was behind her, his head down.

“Mom, I…”

“I went to the playground last night,” she said. “And you weren’t there. No one had ever heard of a boy named Jake either.”

“But I was there last night,” he said, his voice rising up several octaves. It was the kind of lie a six-year-old spat out without thinking. One that had no hint of truth to it.

“You weren’t,” she said. “So I followed you tonight.”

“Oh,” he said. “I...I wasn’t even playing. Just watching!”

The controller was on his lap now. She’d caught him red-handed.

“Get up here right now,” she said. “And where are your parents?”

She was looking at Hunter now. Hunter scowled at Adrian, as if it were his fault his mom were yelling at him.

“My brother is watching us,” Hunter said.

“And where is he?”

Hunter shrugged. “Upstairs I guess?”

“So he can’t see you now, can he? How can he watch you if he can’t see you?” She looked down at Adrian, no longer acknowledging Hunter. “You’re not to play with this boy anymore. Now come up here, we’re going home. You’re going to eat your dinner, then go straight to bed.”

His face burned. He put down the controller, knowing he’d never get to touch it again. It was his first and last time to be Link.