Christmas Secrets Unveiled

My brother is eight years old now, and I don't think he believes in Santa anymore. He tells me he knows where Mom and Dad are hiding some of our presents. He's a spoilsport, and I tell him I don't want to know, I want to be surprised. Carl taunts me by constantly telling me he knows what I'm getting, and I try not to listen to him.
My brother is driving me crazy. I know he knows something and it must be pretty good, 'cause the smirk on his face is a pretty evil one.
Alright, I give in, I can't take it anymore. "Show me," I tell him.
I can't believe it but the presents he's found are in the new extra room across from ours. They're not even wrapped yet. They're hidden in plain view. My parents are clever, I think, but not clever enough for an eight year old snoop like Carl.
There's a small group of boxes that are un-marked, and Carl tells me to look inside one of them.
As I pull open the cardboard flap I notice the feint smell of smoke. These boxes smell like they've been in a fire. Inside I see the unmistakable signs of Marx toy soldiers! The little bags that contain the men and accessories are in there! One of the bags reads Confederates, so I know now that I'm actually getting the Marx Civil War play set this year! I tear myself away from the boxes. So the toy store at the Mart was able to save the toys but not the box it came in. I'm not going to complain. My Civil War set is going to smell like it just came out of a battle.
Now I can't stop thinking about Christmas morning and how I'm gonna have to act surprised. I have to resist the urge to go back into the spare room and peek some more.
I'm thinking.
"Did we put the boxes back just like they were?"
"Will Mom and Dad notice that some of the flaps have been opened?"
One last check and it looks like we put everything back like it was.
A few days later I go back in to look again, and the boxes are gone.
Has Mom found out we were looking? Where did she take them?
Did my wise-guy brother get caught in there?
Nothing is said that night at dinner, so it's a mystery to me.
Carl swears he knows nothing. He's not smirking when he tells me so I guess I believe him.
It's better off not knowing, I think.
It' better off being surprised.
My brother has other ideas.
He likes to torture me, I swear.