Narrator: I grew up in a neighborhood that was a lot like other neighborhoods. Where the boxes we lived in were distinguished only by the names on the mailboxes, and the cars in the driveways. It was a place where hard-working Americans circled their wagons to protect themselves from the outside world. Our lives were made up of little moments, all delicately intertwined.

Narrator: I guess magic doesn't last forever no matter how much you wish it would. Destiny can turn on a dime and cut like a knife.

Narrator: I guess some gifts are simple. They come from the heart... with a lifetime guarantee. And that afternoon... Christmas finally arrived. That Christmas Eve, I delivered egg rolls and pork lomein - for fifty cents more an hour. Then I turned right around and squandered the profits - on cashmere. Still, I think it was worth it. As for that big box, it turned out to be something much, much smaller. [Winnie gives Kevin a present] I hated it. I loathed it. I despised it. Then again, on the other hand... That night we skipped the customary dinner at home. Seemed there was a more fitting place to gather. We stayed up late. We talked about old times, new times. We ate turkey and dressing... and egg rolls. After all, the way I saw it, that year, we had a lot to celebrate.

Narrator: I guess that's when it hit me, Winnie wasn't going to forgive me for the things I said. It could only mean one thing: she wanted me bad.

Narrator: I guess things never turn out exactly the way you planned. I know they didn't with me. Still, like my dad used to say - traffic's traffic. You go where life takes you. I remember a time, a place, a particular 4th of July. The things I saw in that decade of war and change. I remember how it was, growing up. Among people and places I loved. Most of all, I remember how it was... to leave.

Narrator: I guess you can say that the laws of nature aren't always predictable. Still, when it came to matters of cause and effect... I think we managed to learn a thing or two. Perhaps that day, despite all the chaos, there really were cosmic forces at work. Forces so powerful, so profound, they defied all our attempts of rational explanation. I mean, hey, it had taken only five-thousand years to understand the moon... So, maybe, we were making progress. Then again, when it came down to it, may be, we learned enough for one day.

Narrator: I guess you could say I had a pretty uncomplicated childhood - with one exception. My brother, Wayne. From the moment we first laid eyes in each other, we had an instinctive, natural, bond. It was kind of touching, really. So to insure that bond would flourish and grow, my parents provided us with something. Something to keep us together, through thick and thin. A room. Our room. The thing is, we actually had some pretty good times there. But looking back now, when I think of that room... what I remember is how big it seemed when we were little.

Narrator: I knew at that moment, that life was not fair. Sure... I'd write to [Teri], and maybe she'd write me - then what? Could we really wait for each other for the next ten or twelve years? It was hopeless. I'd never felt pain like this before in my entire life. It felt...wonderful.

Narrator: I never did forget that night. I remember the light glowing from Mrs. Carples' window. And I remember the darkness falling as I sat out there on the street looking in. And now... more than twenty years later... I still remember every note of the music that wandered out into the still night air. The only thing is... I can't remember how to play it anymore.

Narrator: I never did get that car. I got my old one back from "Pistol Pete". But I guess I did learn a few things from this mess. When it comes to couples, mind your own business. When it comes to women, you'll never understand them. And, when it comes to cars... always bring a wrench.

Narrator: I stood there, helpless, outnumbered. And that's when it happened. Doug Porter looked first, directly into the eyes of the man who had taught him gym for three long years. Then Tommy Kisling looked, too, and Randy Mitchell. Those three skeptics gazed straight at that white beard, dead into the eyes of Coach Cutlip not thirty feet away. But all that they saw... was Santa Claus. It was a miracle. He stood there like some patron saint of all the lonely people holidays sometimes forget. And for that brief moment of Christmas magic, Ed Cutlip got his chance to be what he always wanted. And I never gave him away.

Narrator: I wanted them to tell me why they were fighting. Why they kept hurting each other like this. Why it was that the two men who meant the whole world to me...had to act like - children. But most of all, I just wanted them to stop.

Narrator: I wanted to stay there, in that night... more than anything I wanted before. But I knew I couldn't. I was fifteen. I slept under a roof my father owned, in a bed my father bought. Nothing was mine, except my heart, and my fears. And my growing knowledge that not every road was going to lead home anymore.

Narrator: I was 13 years old. Being self conscious was a full time job.

Narrator: I'd never felt so lost in my life. I tried to make sense of what had happened. I wanted to believe Paul had lied to me. Winnie, too. But somehow, I knew better. I'd been lying to myself. The funny thing is, now that I was sure about my feelings for Winnie... There they were: my best friend and my best girl. I'd brought them together. And now I had no right to interfere.