The War Game (19 page)

             
“I’m going to wash my hands.”

             
Did he expect me to go follow him and watch?

             
I heard the water stop running and he came out of the kitchen. Again, he stopped and stared at me. “So...”

             
“So?” Is this what I had to look forward to every evening from now on? Would the awkwardness never end?

             
“Too bad about your neighbor dying.”

             
I shouldn’t admit to this, but at first, I had no idea who he was talking about. But Miriam told me that the kid died unexpectedly and she had no idea how. “Yeah, he was only ten years old. I would have liked to attend the funeral.”

             
“We can go and visit his grave after the honeymoon, if you would like,” he offered.
Why not
, I wanted to add.
The cemetery will be just across the street.

             
“Yeah, sure. Do you know how he died?” I asked.

             
“Reattachment therapy. Heard of it?”

             
I shook my head no.

             
“Well, I’m not a fan. I will say I believe in what I’m doing here but I don’t support this type of therapy.”

             
“How does it work?”

             
“There’s this machine that acts like a gigantic womb. It can contract, push, and squeeze. Once out of the tunnel, there’s a super-bright light and a loud piercing scream. To stimulate what birth must be like to a baby. That way, the kids are reborn and can begin to bond with their adoptive parents. At least, that’s basically the theory of it.”

             
“Wait, they make kids climb into this machine?”

             
“Yeah, that’s where he died. But I’m not a fan of that kind of therapy because I believe that being reborn should be spiritual, not physical. Plus, it poses some health risks.”

             
Yeah, that risk being loss of life.
A very long awkward silence passed. He stared at me. I hope he wasn’t thinking that he needed to fill the silence with a disgusting, premeditated kiss.

             
“On a lighter note, I have tickets to the Water Planet Exhibit. They have sharks and turtles and lots of other creatures swimming in tanks. You stand on a conveyor belt and watch the fish swim by. It’s just like being under the sea.”

~~~

             
“Let’s play a game,” Michelle chirped much too enthusiastically. Instead of trying to break the silence, she drew too much emphasis to it.

             
I didn’t mind the silence, as I didn’t feel any obligation to fill it.

             
“Annette is going to bring out a tea tray of items. Everyone please take a slip of paper and a pencil.”

             
Annette, a few years older than me with thick curly hair that was almost black, and bushy eyebrows, came out with the tray. She stopped in front of everyone for a few seconds so they could get a look of what was on the tray.

             
There was a fairly large turnout for my party. At least, far more people came than I thought. They were all neighbors but I had never seen most of them before. Probably hired seat-fillers. Most of them were either in their late teens or my host’s age.

             
On the tea tray, there was a a box of matches, a lip balm, a thimble, a tea cup, a pen, an eraser shaped like the former flag of the United States (back when it just had fifty stars), a pack of playing cards, a pair of tan gardening gloves, a beaded coin purse, neon yellow shoelaces, a bottle of Wite-Out, a makeup brush, a piece of butterscotch candy, scissors, a locket necklace, a spool of beige thread, a small jar of grape jam, and a few other odds and ends.

             
After making a big show of carrying the tray around the room, Annette went back to hiding in the kitchen.

             
Michelle started passing out pieces of blank white paper (I took several and hid them in my pocket so I could write stuff later) and pencils. I was going over the things I saw in my head; I believe I remembered all but one or two of them. I have great short-term memory, when I want it.

             
Michelle took a seat on her folding chair and announced, “Now what I want you to do next is, write down everything that Annette was wearing. The lady with the most accurate answers wins a mystery gift!”

             
Well, crap. Everyone hesitated but was able to write down at least one or two, if not more, things. Except me. And this was my supposed party.

             
Kelly, another engaged neighborhood girl, won the mystery gift. A set of expensive pots and pans. I had no use for pots and pans. If Steven wanted to eat anything, he could make it himself. I’d been to more camps than he has had girlfriends. I could survive on potato chips. I was glad I didn’t win and I was glad I didn’t waste much effort into trying to win. I was not going to store my memory with useless information.

~~~

     The dress was beautiful, even if the stitching was unraveling by the armpit. The cake would be delicious. The ceremony would have been lovely if there were to be one. The guests would be getting antsy, looking back at the door I’m supposed to walk through. Miriam’s mascara would be undoubtedly running down her face. The groom would be growing bored but who cared, he was getting compensated. The soldiers would probably be loading their guns.

    
             
And I would be miles and miles away, driving for the very first time.

    
             
At least, that’s what the pastor is saying between the lines to me.

    
             
“Marriage is one road that life may take us. Just one of many roads. There are always two roads to take-at least, if not an infinite number of possibilities. To get to the road that you want to travel, all you need is the right key. ‘Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?’ Matthew 7:3.”

             
It was those weird numbers again. Not to mention, who was Matt? Someday I should ask about those but for now, more important things resided on my mind.

             
Eldon slipped a bulky envelope into my hands.

             
“It also can’t hurt to have a GPS. All you need to know is how to get from Point A to Point B and which pedal is the brake. We take as many as we can to Canada. Unfortunately, we have to travel with as few as possible, as to not attract attention. You know, fly under the radar. Do you understand the scope of what I’m saying, Pearl?”

             
“Yes.”

             
“You will find a change of clothes underneath the passenger’s seat. Remain calm. Don’t draw attention to yourself. They will be waiting for you at Point B. But you need to go now.”

             
I turned the envelope over to open it. Inside contained a map, some money, and a set of car keys.

~~~

             
It was scary climbing into the car by myself. I felt around for my watch before I threw my bag of stuff on the floor on the passenger’s seat. I put my watch on my wrist, for the first time in months. I didn’t care who saw. I loved that watch and it was mine. One of my few possessions that I’d managed to keep for longer than a week. It stopped telling time right around when John’s bus pulled away.

             
I had a secret hope that once I saw John, it would start ticking again.

             
I remembered to check where I was to go and was relieved to find out that it was basically a straight line. Point A to Point B.

             
Turning was easier than I expected. I drove slowly out of the parking lot. I didn’t need any tell-tale metallic scraping of cars to alert people that I was out here.

             
I pressed the gas pedal down to the floor, and the car nearly crashed into the van in front of it (I shrieked), but luckily I found the brakes fast enough.

             
My god, now that was scary. Cars had a lot of power. I drove over a curb but other than that, I made it safely out of there, unnoticed. At least, for the time being.

There weren’t many cars out, thankfully. I didn’t know how I was going to merge off into my exit once it approached. But I guessed I would learn as I went.

             
Way in the back, there was the blur of a white car. As fast as I was going, I was still well under the speed limit. The handful of other vehicles were going faster than that. But this one kept its distance for a little too long. I kept my eye on it but my heart was racing like what I imagine the first time doing cocaine would feel like.

~~~

             
I came to a toll booth. A little shack with a glass window and a door with a sign listing different decrees. I’d have turned on the radio to drown out the thumping of my racing heart but I didn’t know which button it was. There was this white mail truck that might or might not have been following me for an uncomfortable time a few miles now.

             
There were two young guys working there at the booth. They looked juvenile and pathetic, like even I could take them out. But they also looked like they were tattlers. And I’m sure they had guns somewhere hidden on them.

             
I quickly took out the money and slid the map underneath the seat. As soon as I got to the front of the line, I rolled down my window just enough to slide the money through, so he couldn’t see all of my face. I reached out to give him the money.

He took the money but then he held onto my hand, looking at the watch. I sent a silent prayer, up to sky to whoever would listen. Probably just a bird.

             
“Could you roll down your window all the way, ma’am?” he asked. He let go of my hand. 

     I put my hand on the steering wheel, sticking the face of my watch out. I dared him to look at it. Yeah, I had a watch on. It might not have worked, it might not have been the most expensive thing in the store, but what did they know.

             
“Okay, let her through.”

             
“Excuse me?”

             
“She’s wearing a wedding dress, dude. And a watch.”

             
They backed a few feet away from me and lowered their voices to discuss basically the possibility of furthering my existence. I could still hear them, of course.

             
“He said to only call him for an emergency. She’s one of ours.
They
don’t wear watches.”

             
“I have a bad feeling about this.”

             
“Even if there’s a small chance she’s not, then so what? She could have been a stowaway somehow, happens every once and a while. And what damage could she do? She looks like she’s twelve.”

             
Almost fourteen,
I stopped myself from saying.

             
He didn’t seem convinced so I went to seal the deal, “You know, if you don’t let me through, I’m sure that guy on the telephone will be wondering where I am about now. You don’t want a phone call from him, do you?” I had to take chances on what little information these guys were dropping in front of me.

             
They looked at me, contemplating.

             
“I have somewhere I need to be,” I said, looking down at my white dress. “I’m running late.”

             
“I’m sure that they would wait for you, being the bride an’ all.”

             
“I didn’t know one could serve so young. I guess, pays for college. And you get health insurance. Well, some. Let’s let her go.”

             
One guy threw up his hands, “Okay, man. But I was not here when you did this.”

             
“All right. You’re cleared. Your service is invaluable to the country.”

             
“About time,” I sighed and pulled forward.

             
I could see now that there was just one person in the white truck. It was a little white blur with a black dot but I could tell what kind of vehicle it was. The black little dot was sitting on the right side.

             
It was a goddamned mail truck.

             
He kept his distance. There weren’t any other cars out on the road. If he wanted to take me out, he could, without witnesses.