Died of Dysentery

Thirty-nine-year-old Aaron sat in the minivan, waiting to pick up his ten-year-old son, Noah, from soccer practice. Facing the field, he watched the gaggle of preadolescents practice dribbles, passes, shoots, and an occasional trick shot from the head or chest--just to show off for each other, no doubt. They were an impressive bunch for their age, he’d give them that. Albeit, Aaron was always a more avid viewer of sports than an active participant. Athletics were never easy for him. Noah must get his propensity from either a recessive trait or from his mother. The latter most likely, seeing as how he has more traces of her features than his to begin with: her eyes, her face shape, freckles, her hair color, and even her talent for sports. 

Aaron didn’t totally understand his son’s interests, but he was nonetheless proud of him. Although he couldn’t help but muse on how the roles seemed reversed almost thirty years ago. Aaron’s own father would have preferred a son who was a quarterback or first baseman but was resigned to a clumsy, but bright wiz kid who spent a significant deal of spare time with a video game or computer. His old man didn’t understand it, but his kid was happy and did well in school. There is that if a parent can’t have anything else. 

His thoughts dispersed when Noah finally climbed into the car, glistening with sweat. They greeted one another as Noah settled in his seat and silence filled the space while Aaron navigated the vehicle out of the parking space and lot. 

“How was practice?” Aaron asked.

“Fine,” Noah answered, wiping his brow and chugging some water.

“How was school?” He continued, hoping against hope for a more elaborate conversation. 

“Fine...” Noah reiterated.

“Have any homework?”

“No,”

“Any weekend plans?”

Noah grunted and shrugged.

“Do you care if I play?” Noah then asked, reaching for his Nintendo Switch.

“Sure,” Aaron resigned. At least he was polite about it. He recognized such exchanges were par for the course at ten years old. But he still couldn’t help feeling a little disheartened as the screen in his son’s face seemed to hinder any potential for connecting on the drive home. 

“We’re going to start learning about the Oregon Trail next week,” Noah offered up out of the blue. Like a trigger, Aaron’s mind flashed to a spirited fanfare and a start-up screen that bore the same words on the backdrop of a golden prairie landscape. 

“The Oregon Trail, huh?” The thought made Aaron smile, but he didn’t want to get carried away. That was his favorite game when he was Noah’s age. 

“There’s a game for it on Switch. Can I get it?” Aaron wasn’t surprised. Between the fourth and fifth iterations, he started to “grow up” out of spending all his free time on video games, having discovered cars, girls, puberty, a steady paycheck, and more practical ideas about his future. However, many of the re-releases and revamps still caught his attention now and then.

Aaron had many times when he wanted to dive back into gaming but either he didn’t have the opportunity or money to spare or he knew nothing important would get done if/when he did. He needed to manage some bills, take out the trash, help with dishes after dinner, mow the lawn this weekend, and it was his turn to clean the bathroom. But a golden opportunity to connect more with his son seemed close and that was important too, right? Hopping back on The Trail wouldn’t be for totally selfish reasons now...

“Tell you what, son,” Aaron answered, “I want to show you an older version of the game that’s totally free and I’ll consider the idea of buying you the new one. How’s that sound?”

“M’kay,” Noah shrugged. Aaron’s eagerness was bubbling below the surface by the time they pulled into their driveway. He knew just the emulator that would support gameplay without many glitch-outs. He mentally rehearsed talking points he’d discuss while showing his son around the game. He practically flashed himself back to his own childhood nights when he’d play Oregon Trail after dinner until bedtime. That buzz quickly crashed shortly after they got through the door though. 

“Noah Joseph Peterson,” His son’s full name came from his stern-toned wife, Lisa. “You have missing grades in English!” 

Noah argued that his teacher hadn’t uploaded GradeLink yet, but this occurrence was becoming frequent enough for Aaron and Lisa to know better. Noah’s dishonesty and irresponsibility with his homework meant he would be grounded until next week. He had to give up the Switch. So Aaron thought it would be prudent to introduce Noah to The Oregon Trail after his punishment. But in the meantime, he got a little extra help with cleaning the bathroom.

The following week transpired with Noah’s Oregon Trail studies. Aaron felt a strange blend of interest and envy. Noah made a little more conversation about what he learned or did in class. 

“They actually didn’t travel in the Conestoga wagons like everyone thinks. Those were too heavy...”

“We did a virtual scavenger hunt tour of the trail landmarks during computer time.”

“We looked at trail maps today. The Oregon Trail wasn’t a single route,” 

“In science, we talked about the diseases they got! Dysentery, cholera, smallpox...”

(“Spare the details until after dinner, please, honey?” Lisa chided on that topic.)

“They made fire with buffalo poop and didn’t bathe for the whole trip!”

He would find those interesting... Aaron mused. Notwithstanding the grosser tidbits, he forgot he learned some of those things himself when he was in school. Though more still, he realized that nothing drove home the book learning more than the virtual experience the computer game fostered. He wondered if Noah would feel the same. 

That weekend, Noah was officially ungrounded. One of his friend’s parents would shuttle him home from soccer practice and  Lisa was away on a weekend trip. Aaron finished the chores early and had a gnawing itch to boot up Oregon Trail while he waited for his son to come home. He was dying to get his feet wet with it again and felt it only right that he should reacquaint with it before showing it to Noah. 

He powered up the computer, opened up a web browser, navigated to the emulator, and selected the game. A loading screen popped up with a percentage counter.

Loading bundle eight percent, twenty-seven percent, forty-eight, seventy-three, one-hundred percent. 

The program started extracting the same way.

Three percent, seven percent, thirteen percent, twenty-nine...extraction error.

“Shoot!” Aaron of course thought. “Another valid reason for getting a jumpstart. Hope a refresh does the trick.” He clicked on the refresh button.

It did the trick and loaded completely that time. The loading screen switched to black before fading into the grandiose introductory dialogue and that familiar music loop.

“The United States in the mid-eighteen hundreds...” The dialogue started while revealing a state map of the country from that period. “Ours is a large nation, a young nation full of restless, forward-looking people...” 

Aaron sat back to watch and listen to the opening sequence, feeling like a kid again. The start-up screen finally appeared when a racket kicked up in the kitchen. Sighing as he got up from the computer, he hurried to investigate, finding it coming from the dishwasher. Nothing was obstructing the blades, so it had to be either a valve or a loose part. Long story short, his adventure for the night would be further exploring the dishwasher issue. 

So, Sunday was finally the day Aaron had been waiting for. 

“Alright, son!” He exclaimed as the game booted up. “You’ve learned about the Oregon Trail. Now get ready to live it!” As if on cue, the start-up screen appeared. Aaron was pleased. 

Noah stayed neutral, taking in the display before him. 

“Is that synthesizer music?” He asked, listening to the audio loop. 

“It's supposed to be orchestral,” Aaron answered but quietly mulled on the fact. “Hit ‘new game’ to get started. I’ll walk you through the gameplay.”

Noah did so and glossed over the character creation page. 

‘From the trail journal of Temple,” he read the auto-populated suggestion. “What kind of name is Temple?” 

“You can put yours in if you want,” Aaron pointed out but silently reminisced about feeling the same way. Temple was a funny first name. He recommended the easiest selections for Noah’s first gameplay and they moved forward.

“Woah!” The prologue came up. “Will I have to read a lot to play this game?!” 

“Ehh, ” Aaron started, unsure of how to answer the question. “It's a big part of the game control and helpful to success.” 

Noah clicked past the prologue and triggered the option to buy a basic package of supplies.

“Eww! Cheugy!” He reacted to the full-motion video animation. 

“Cheugy?” Aaron questioned.

“Y’know...cringe, awkward, not cool? Only the mouth moves!” A few moments later, Noah discovered that’s the case with all dialogue exchanges. 

“3-D graphics were still a few years off when I was your age,” Aaron tried to justify.  He guided Noah out of Independence to the start of his virtual journey. His son wasn’t wrong though. Only the mouths moved; he never thought about that before. 

The game progressed, revealing its loops of realistic wildlife and landscape images. At ten years old, Aaron thought they were a nice touch but he never realized how pixelated and grainy they were. Noah also remarked that the NPCs got repetitive too, which Aaron hardly noticed before either. He started to fear his nostalgia was really rose-colored glasses, but again, this was pretty high-tech for the time...emphasis on the time. 

Aaron found a strange solace--or distraction--in some of the calamities in Noah’s gameplay experience. 

“Not the rapids! Not the rapids! Not the rapids!” Noah pleaded with the RNG as he crossed a river. “Nooo!!!” His wagon caught the rapids and tipped over. “I need more food!” He realized after getting straightened out. He went for the hunting option but the game told him he lost his gun. 

“What?!” Noah balked.

“That got me every time too!” Aaron laughed at the memory. “It felt like every accident or incident, I’d lose my firearm or ammo!”

Noah ran through several trade dialogues, looking for one to no avail. 

“At least there’s a fort ahead of you,” His dad encouraged, “Try being in that situation past Fort Boise!”

“How do I lose four oxen?!” Noah flabbergasted a bit later. Aaron chucked again. Luckily, his party found them. 

Noah came to the fallen rocks obstacle. The game wouldn’t let him continue, clear it, or find another path. While waiting for conditions to improve, good fortune had more capable emigrants clear the path the next day. 

“I got stuck there for a week a few times!” Aaron marveled. 

After a half-hour of gameplay and a thin stock of supplies, Noah made it to Oregon City within five months.

“What did you think, son?” Aaron wondered at the end of his journey.

“Well...” Noah started. Aaron braced for a brutal commentary. The premise is good, just pretty detailed and random. The aesthetic has no polish!” 

“Figures,” Aaron thought. Hoping his son, born in 2014, would get a thrill comparable to his own from a 1995 quality game was far-fetched. It may as well have come from the Stone Age in Noah’s eyes. It was starting to make him feel self-conscious of his age and he wasn’t officially over the hill yet. 

“Now the new Switch version,” Noah continued, changing the browser to YouTube and searching for a Switch game trailer. “I watched my friend, Ethan, play it, and it’s got rizz for sure!”

“Got rizz?” Aaron asked, worried about some of the language his son uses.

“Y’know, charisma, style, charm.” He clicked on one of the videos he wanted.

Watching that minute-long clip, Aaron had to admit, the visuals were gorgeous and smooth, the soundtrack pleasant. It seemed fresh both in quality and even to his soul. But what were the playability and mechanics like, he wondered? 

“Alright...” He gave in to his curiosity. “Let’s check this one out!” Noah excitedly popped from the computer chair to fetch his Switch and Aaron followed with his bank card. Another half-hour later after watching his son play, he was convinced. This new version was modern while respecting the game of his childhood, ultimately just right for Noah’s generation. Plus, seeing his focus and satisfied expressions throughout the game really made the thirty-dollar purchase more rewarding for him. 

“Thanks for the game, Dad!” Noah smiled at him at one point.

“Thanks for showing it to me!” Aaron replied, his heart warm. 

“Hey, Dad!” Noah approached Aaron a few days later with some of his schoolwork.” The teacher gave us a choice of Oregon Trail-related projects to do for extra credit! I chose to write a report on my experience with one of the games!”

“That sounds really cool!” He replied, receiving the page being handed to him. Knowing his son, he imagined he wrote about his awesome new game. He started reading Noah’s project, which was graded with a B. 

“Oregon Trail II was a computer game my dad grew up with. It came out in 1995 when he was my age. It was his favorite! He showed it to me over the weekend.” A lump formed in Aaron’s throat, and a smile crept across his face. “...using his advice, I started my expedition from Independence, Missouri in April 1848 with four other young people. He helped me manage the many challenges of the trail, like extreme weather, the wagon getting stuck, low food and bad water, and several illnesses or injuries resulting from these calamities. Luckily no one died of dysentery!”