The Good War

by Todd Strasser

  Emma scowled. Why did Caleb think that? But, as usual, Caleb had already anticipated her question. He sent a follow-up text: Long story, but the point is, Zach sees the whole picture. Gets inside the other squad’s heads. Knows what they’re going to do. I think he should be our squad tactician.

  Except for Emma being captain, this was the first time anyone on the squad discussed the idea of specific titles. Emma understood why Caleb was making the suggestion. She had seen evidence that Zach was often more aware of what was going on in a round than the rest of them. But she also doubted that Nathan would respond well to the idea of Zach providing them with strategies. And since she was the captain, shouldn’t she be the one who decided if there should be a squad tactician? For a moment, Emma was tempted to say that if Caleb thought Zach should be the tactician, why didn’t Caleb just replace her as captain and make the decision himself? But Emma quickly reminded herself that she liked being captain. All day at school, girls like Mackenzie lorded over girls like her. But for a few hours once a week in the eSports club, Emma could tear Mackenzie to pieces in The Good War. She didn’t want anyone to take that away from her.

  * * *

  While Crosby waited for 88Rising to come online that evening, he thought back to the match his squad lost that day. He hadn’t been surprised. Gavin let himself get killed off early. It was obvious that the big red-haired boy wasn’t interested in the game. He’d been in a funk all day. At lunch, Tyler had plucked a French fry off Gavin’s plate, and Gavin had punched him so hard in the arm that Tyler had tears in his eyes. But Tyler was a moron. He should have known that when Gavin was in one of his black moods, you kept your distance.

  Seeing those tears in Tyler’s eyes reminded Crosby of how lucky he was to be on Gavin’s good side. It was a relief a month ago, when Crosby figured out how Ms. B knew about his plan to cheat on the geometry test. When Crosby awoke in the middle of the night, it was because he’d remembered who sat in front of him and Gavin on the bus most mornings. It was those two sixth graders who always shut up the second Gavin and Crosby sat down behind them. And who sat in front of the sixth graders? Extra Credit Caleb. Crosby knew he sometimes forgot to use his inside voice. And he recalled how the whole time he was telling Gavin about his plan to cheat, Caleb was gazing out the window with one ear aimed back toward them. So Caleb definitely could have overheard him. And it would be just like Caleb to snitch to Ms. B.

  88Rising got online, interrupting Crosby’s thoughts. “Hey, CrossBow.”

  “Hey, bro, you’re late. What took you?” Crosby said.

  “Got stuck talking to some wacko,” 88Rising said. “You’ll love this, CrossBow. The guy was telling me about this organization called the Illuminati that’s plotting to take over the world. Guess where he says their secret headquarters are? Under the Denver airport.”

  “What?” Crosby asked with a laugh.

  “Crazy, right?” 88Rising said. “I mean, that’s the thing about the internet. It’s overrun with lunatic conspiracy theories. Lesson number one: You can’t believe everything you hear.”

  “Right,” Crosby agreed, although the truth was that he hadn’t heard much one way or the other. “It makes you wonder what you can believe.”

  88Rising was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “You can believe what we’ve talked about, CrossBow. That America was founded as a white country for people of European heritage. I’m not saying that America needs to be a hundred percent white. I mean, I like Mexican food as much as the next guy. But I don’t think you’ll be able to say that America is America at the rate we’re going. It’s gotten so bad that you can’t even say Merry Christmas anymore without people losing their minds. You told me you work in fulfillment, right?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Crosby said. He’d told 88Rising that he worked in an Amazon warehouse because that was what his dad had done before his parents had split up.

  “Imagine what it would be like if all your coworkers were black and brown and yellow,” 88Rising said. “Imagine if your boss was some brown guy wearing a freaking turban? Think you’d be comfortable in a situation like that?”

  Crosby had no idea how he’d feel. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone wearing a turban. But he could sense the answer 88Rising expected from him. “Guess not,” he said.

  “See? That’s what I like about you, CrossBow,” said 88Rising. “You’re smart and you’re honest. You tell it like you see it. With the liberals breathing down our necks, guys like you and me have to stick together.”

  Crosby straightened up in his chair and smiled. He liked hearing that.

  “Hey, CrossBow, know what?” 88Rising said. “Maybe it’s time we shared our real names. What do you say?”

  Crosby was surprised. That was a big step. People didn’t share their real names online unless they felt a strong bond with each other.

  “I’m Dave,” 88Rising said.

  “I’m Crosby.”

  “Nice to know you, Crosby. Now what do you say we play some TGW?”

  They played until Crosby’s aunt Mary called him for dinner. Crosby went into the kitchen feeling good, like he’d just made a new friend. A real friend. His mom was sitting at the kitchen table wearing an old pink robe and a blue scarf on her head to cover up the hair loss caused by chemotherapy. She smiled weakly at him. She was thin and her skin was a sickly gray. Crosby felt his body tighten. He couldn’t get used to seeing her like that. Every time he did, he had to fight back tears.

  While Crosby’s mother had always been slender and gentle, her sister, Crosby’s aunt Mary, was short, stocky, and pushy. She was the sort of person who always had an opinion and let you know it. That evening, Aunt Mary served him a bowl of spaghetti and meat sauce. Crosby’s mom’s dinner was a bottle of chocolate Ensure and a handful of colorful pills. Crosby was an only child, and he hadn’t seen his father in years. He wasn’t even sure where his father was anymore. Sometimes Crosby woke in the middle of the night wondering what would happen if they got to the point where his mom could no longer live at home. What would happen to him? Where would he live?

  They’d hardly begun to eat when Aunt Mary asked if he was still in the eSports club. Crosby knew that she was trying to be like a mother to him because his own mother was now often too weak to do it. But having never been a mother herself, Aunt Mary really stank at it.

  “Yes, and for your information, there are girls in the club,” Crosby said, because he had a feeling that was what she was going to ask next.

  “Good,” Aunt Mary said. “And what about when you’re online here?”

  “I don’t know,” Crosby said. “I just play with people.”

  “Do you know who they are?”

  “Not usually,” Crosby said. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh, I think it does,” Aunt Mary said in that accusing tone of hers. Like no matter what he did, it was wrong. “I’ve read that there are all sorts of predators who use gaming as a way to meet boys. Has anyone ever asked you for a photo of yourself?”

  “You must think I’m really stupid,” Crosby snapped at her.

  “Crosby, please,” his mother said softly.

  “Sorry, Mom.” Crosby turned to his aunt. “No one’s ever asked, and I’d never do it if they did.”

  “Do people say racist things?” Aunt Mary asked. “Or sexist?”

  “Not really,” Crosby said.

  His aunt leaned forward. “Not really?”

  Crosby knew he’d made a mistake. “I mean, no, never,” he said, although that wasn’t quite true.

  “That’s hard to believe, considering there’s sexism all over the internet,” Aunt Mary said to Crosby’s mother. “Men assume that technology is their domain and a place where women can’t be their equals. A place where they don’t want women to be their equals.” She turned to Crosby. “I assume you follow professional gaming teams. Are there any
women gamers on them?”

  “Some,” Crosby said.

  “A tiny minority,” said Aunt Mary.

  Crosby was so tired of her attitude. “I guess you’d say women should be on professional football teams, too?”

  “No,” said Aunt Mary. “They can’t. Their physiologies are different. Men have larger skeletons and more muscle mass than women. And even among men, only about one in a thousand is exceptional enough to play professional football. But the reason there are so few women gamers isn’t physical. It’s because they don’t see themselves on screens. Look at the hero in most video games and what do you see? A strong, white male with a fast car and a gorgeous girlfriend.”

  “What about Lara Croft, Zelda, Calamity,” Crosby shot back.

  “Let me guess. All skinny girls with big chests and pretty faces?” countered Aunt Mary.

  “Please. I think we’ve argued enough about this tonight,” Crosby’s mother said wearily. Crosby leaned back in his seat. His eyes met Aunt Mary’s and they instantly shared an understanding. If there was one thing they could agree on, it was that all this arguing wasn’t doing his mother any good.

  MATCH TALLY

  GAVIN’S SQUAD: 3

  EMMA’S SQUAD: 1

  Caleb got on the bus to school feeling worried, stressed, and excited. He was worried because all week long the yearbook portrait photographer had been at school, and the guy seemed disorganized and scattered. Umbrella lights fell over in the middle of shoots. The photographer got the names of students mixed up. He tripped over power cords. Was Caleb’s father right when he said cheaper didn’t always mean better? Had Caleb made a mistake recommending him? That would really hurt his chances of becoming the yearbook’s managing editor next year.

  But Caleb was also excited because last night a reporter from the local Ironville TV station came to his house to interview him and his parents about the eSports club. And later today a crew would video the club in action. The story angle was about Caleb being only in seventh grade and having been the force behind the creation of the eSports club and the grant for the Providia computers.

  Caleb reminded himself that ITV, which stood for Ironville Television, reached only households in Ironville. But still, how many seventh graders had ever had a story done about them?

  When Gavin and Crosby got on the bus a few stops later, they were wearing matching red T-shirts with short, jagged white lightning-bolt logos on the front. Caleb immediately wondered if the shirts had something to do with the match that afternoon. Crosby stopped in the aisle just past Caleb’s seat and told the sixth graders who sat there to move. Caleb heard the kids quickly scoot from the seat and Gavin and Crosby slide in.

  A moment later, Caleb felt Crosby’s warm breath in his ear. He knew that Crosby was trying to scare him by getting that close. Caleb turned in his seat. Crosby’s face was so close that Caleb could see the blackheads in his forehead.

  “Know why I’ve been giving you the hairy eyeball for the past month?” Crosby asked. “Because I know it was you who told Ms. B about me cheating on the geometry test.”

  It took all of Caleb’s willpower not to blink or look away. But there was no way Crosby could know that for sure. Caleb trusted Ms. B. She never would have told Crosby how she knew about his plan. Besides, Ms. B had said that someone else had also told her about it. Caleb decided that Crosby was bluffing. He’d said that just to see how Caleb would react.

  “What are you talking about?” Caleb asked.

  Crosby’s eyes narrowed. He glanced at Gavin, then back at Caleb. “You better watch yourself.”

  * * *

  “Last Friday in the hall three boys came up to me, very excited, and asked if it was true that the school had an eSports club,” Ms. B told Principal Summers in the computer lab. “I almost asked where they’d been four weeks ago when we had the informational meeting.”

  Principal Summers sighed. “No matter what we do, it seems like half the kids don’t listen to the morning announcements.”

  “So I told them, yes, there’s a club,” said Ms. B, “but right now we’re just testing the idea to see what works and what doesn’t. If it goes well, hopefully we’ll be able to expand for the spring semester.”

  “Then there’s growing interest?” Principal Summers asked.

  “Which may grow even more after the ITV story comes out,” Ms. B said, reminding the principal that the film crew would be coming to the eSports club that afternoon. “But here’s what’s interesting. It turned out that those boys weren’t asking about the club because they want to play. They were asking because they want to add commentary and stream the matches on Twitch.”

  Principal Summers frowned. “Sorry?”

  Ms. B might have been far from savvy when it came to internet gaming, but she knew about Twitch. She explained that the boys wanted to broadcast the matches online so that other kids could watch.

  “Kids want to watch other kids play video games?” Principal Summers asked, puzzled.

  “Just like any other sport,” Ms. B said.

  The principal’s eyebrows dipped. She strolled along the table where the Providia monitors sat. “Well, anything that gets the students involved is good,” she said. “But what about the educational part? Are students using these computers for anything besides gaming?”

  “Let me show you something.” Ms. B sat down at one of the computers and pulled up an animation. “Remember those models of the solar system we used to make with papier-mâché and clothes hanger wire?”

  “Oh yes.” Principal Summers smiled at a memory. “What a mess.”

  “And also completely inaccurate,” said Ms. B. “The solar system isn’t just sitting there. It’s moving through space at something like fifty thousand miles an hour.” She swiveled the monitor so the principal could see an animation showing the sun moving in a straight line through space while the rest of the solar system corkscrewed around it. “This is what our solar system really looks like. The graphics cards in these Providias make projects like this possible. Our students could never have done this on our older computers.”

  “Students created this video?” Principal Summers asked, surprised.

  “Yes,” said Ms. B. “Not only are they learning computer programming, but they’re applying what they learn to other disciplines. In this case, science.”

  Principal Summers smiled. “Promise me you’ll mention that when the ITV people come this afternoon. It’s something we’ll want everyone to know.”

  “Rest assured,” Ms. B said.

  The first bell rang, and Ms. B headed to her classroom feeling jubilant. Not only was interest in the eSports club growing, and not only would the ITV crew be interviewing her as the club’s faculty advisor that afternoon, but she’d also just proved how useful the new computers were educationally.

  Alas, her jubilation was fleeting. Moments later, when she entered her classroom, she saw something that gave her pause. Gavin and Crosby were wearing matching red T-shirts with white lightning-bolt logos. What was that about?

  * * *

  In the hall after second period, Emma found herself stuck behind Gavin and his goon squad as they marched shoulder to shoulder like linemen on the football team. They were all wearing red T-shirts. Mackenzie, who was the second-tallest after Gavin, fit right in. Only, she’d added a gold chain to her outfit. Tromping down the hall, Gavin’s squad seemed to enjoy making everyone go around them.

  Tyler pointed when they passed the custodian’s closet. “Ah, vas ist das?” He asked in a loud imitation of a German accent.

  “Das ist dah broom room, mein freund,” answered Crosby.

  “Jawohl,” said Tyler. The goons chortled appreciatively. Just then, Tyler looked back over his shoulder and saw Emma following them. He gave Crosby a nudge.

  Crosby and the others stopped. They were like a human
wall blocking Emma from going any farther. They crowded in so close that she could have reached out and touched them. A tremor of nervousness rippled through her.

  “Prepare to be annihilated today, Allied vimp,” Crosby said in his stupid German accent. “From now on vee vant to be zee Axis full-time. Instead of switching back and forth.”

  “Jawohl, no one can withstand the Axis might,” Tyler chimed in.

  “And den vee can keep track of our vins und losses for zee whole season,” Crosby added.

  It was hard for Emma to process what they were saying when they were so close and looming over her like a bunch of real-life Mario Bros. Koopas. She knew this was a form of bullying. But would they dare do something to her right there in the crowded hall? Pick on a girl who was literally half Gavin’s size? She didn’t know what came over her, but she straightened up and demanded firmly, “Would you all, like, take a giant step back?”

  For an instant, the goon squad was still. Crosby and his friends looked astonished that Emma had raised her voice at them. Now Emma felt anxious. She didn’t know what to expect. Would they laugh and ignore her demand? Or crowd in even closer? But they did neither. Instead, Gavin took a step back. And when he did, Crosby and the rest followed.

  “So, uh, what do you think about having permanent sides?” Crosby asked without his previous bluster.

  “I’ll ask my squad what they think,” Emma replied.

  “I thought you were the captain,” Mackenzie needled. “Why can’t you just decide yourself?”

  “That’s not the way we do it on our squad,” Emma answered, trying to stand tall—well, as tall as someone who was five foot two could stand—and looking Mackenzie straight in the eye.