Read The War Game for Free Online Page A

Pearl.”
                  “People risk their lives for pearls, you know. That’s a fantastic fake name, by the way.” He took my hand and shook it. His hands were twice the size of mine, and divine. They looked like they belonged on the wrists of someone much older.
                  “It’s my real name.”
                  He stopped shaking my hand, “I’m not surprised.” He stared straight at me, smiling. Then he burst out laughing. “You’re a hard one to tease.”
                  “I don’t like being teased.”
                  “Yeah, well. In my experience, it’s mostly the girl doing the teasing.”
                  Um, wow. So did this mean he had been with a girl before or is this another joke? Or half a joke?
                  “Just kidding! Glad to meet you, Pearl.”
                  “So what’s your real name?”
                  “I told you my real name, it’s Calvin,” he cracked up.
                  I folded my arms. This was just getting annoying now. I turned my back and started to walk away when I felt his hand touch my shoulder.
                  “Okay, it’s John. Dumbass is my nickname. Whichever, I answer to both.”
                  “Glad to meet you too, dumbass,” I said.
                  So his name is John. What an unusual name. Well, at least for someone my age.
                  He smiled a quiet smile, probably pleased to find a girl willing to play his game.
                  An awkward silence passed. I tried hard to find something to say, something to ask.
                  Finding nothing at all, another awkward silence passed.
                  “So, um...do you know anything about cards?” I asked, not just for the sake of asking but trying to poke a hole in the great unknown.
                  “Like card games?”
                  “Not much. I heard some men talking about cards every once and a while. But I didn’t get a chance to ask them what they meant. I thought maybe you’d know.”
                  “No, sorry, I don’t know. Well, from what little I’ve heard of them, it’s best not to have them. I haven’t really heard much about cards. Do you wanna see this thing that I found?” He leaned against a fiberglass trashcan shaped like a clown. Its mouth was actually a hole where people would discard their food wrappings once upon a time. Was this supposed to be a metaphor for something? It was kind of creepy.
                  Cautiously, I considered what this “thing” might be or what it could reference. It took me half a moment to say, “Sure.”
                  He smiled and simply said, “Follow me.”
                  We walked through the park to the end. Once we were almost to the point where people used to line up to get on Something Wicked, he started crouching behind bushes, rolling over to a nearby garbage can, and crawling up a hill on his elbows.
                  I didn’t follow suit.
                  “Hey, get down, so they don’t see you!”
                  I looked around and saw no one. Nothing but empty space with the occasional remains of a ride.
                  “I don’t see anyone.”
                  “Chances are that they can see you.”              
                  Finally taking my delayed cue, I got down on my elbows and knees and looked over the hill.
                  “Let’s get closer.”
                  We did a combination of crawling and running and then hid behind a pillar of a building that people must have used to eat hotdogs and onion rings with their families.
                  He stood stiffly, nodding towards the waterless