Free The War Game by Crystal Black Page B

us.
                  And when I say the refreshments were already out on the table, they really were. No silverware, no napkins, no plates, no cups, nothing. It looked like some sort of stew. I wouldn’t be eating it, at least not today. I’d have to give myself some time before I was that desperate, perhaps a few days.
                  There were two jugs that might have once held water but they were empty. One man was so desperate for something to drink that he tilted it in his hands and started sucking on it like a bottle. I tried not to judge since I wasn’t any better off. And I have been known to drink from rain puddles, despite acid rain warnings. I bet a soldier put those jugs out there empty on purpose. Just for laughs.
                  The strip mall had been gutted out: all the display and light fixtures, most of the signs and shelving, and of course, all the merchandise had been hauled out to make way for the beds. The entire strip mall consisted of bolted-down beds with some of them currently occupied.
                  Then we walked through a connecting hallway to another building, this one was as big as a gymnasium. There were a couple of tables with people standing behind piles of stuff they were trading. Dirty clothes, water-stained books, broken tools, and things you’d find at a garage sale. If the garage sale happened to take place at the bottom of a dumpster, that is. John and I walked through, although I wanted to stop and look at the stuff but didn’t say so. I imagined we would have a lot of time for that later. 
                  We walked back through the hallway and went outside to the courtyard. There was a little boy holding onto a kids’ book. He saw me and pleaded, “Read this story to me, read this story to me.”
                  So I obliged, John sat down to rest. I read about these animals or creatures that were jealous of these other creatures who had stars on their bellies. So the creatures got stars too. That made the others mad. Then a businessman swoops in and invents a machine that can make or take away a star. And they all go crazy. But it was really about discrimination but the little boy wouldn’t even be able to say the word. I don’t like to get too philosophical if I don’t have to.
                  The title page made for a cover and it was missing half the story. The pages that remained were caked together with mud. But I pretty much memorized this story a long time ago when books were easier to come by so I just made up a few lines to fill in the gaps.
                  He seemed pretty pleased, and as I was anticipating that he would ask me to read it again to him, his mom appeared.
                  “Thank you,” she said in a slight accent. What accent it was, I couldn’t quite guess. They certainly didn’t teach anything cultural or social studies or anything like that when I went to school for a short bit. I went there mostly for the free food. I just had to memorize these numbers and those facts and spit it back out. Like a machine.
                  “No problem.” I handed the book back to the child.
                  John and I huddled together, it was summer but the nights were so cold. He put his arm around me and to my relief, it felt natural and not awkward as those things tend to be. I felt like kissing him but I somehow couldn’t gather enough bits of courage to turn around to do so. There were not even a handful of people in the courtyard. I tried to remind myself that we must have kissed at least a hundred times just a night ago. But it didn’t do any good, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I hoped he would soon.
                  John let go to reach a stick that was lying in the dirt. He drew a cross in the ground, scraping the pavement underneath. Crosses were all over the place where I used to live in a house.