Dragon House by John Shors

rays of sunlight that seeped through the foliage to reach him, he studied the boy and girl. Both were dressed in tattered clothes. One of the boy’s hands was missing, and thinking of his own self-consciousness about his leg, Noah pretended not to notice. “I’ll play a game,” he finally replied.
    Minh opened up the box and began to set the game up on the bench.
    “You know how to play?” Mai asked.
    “I think so.”
    “You must get four pieces in a row. Down, across, or diagonal works same, same.”
    Noah motioned for Minh to make the first move. The boy placed his black piece in the center. Thinking that he’d start filling up one of the sides, Noah dropped his red piece into the slot farthest from him. Minh’s next piece went beside his first. And Noah’s next piece went atop his first.
    “No, no, silly man,” Mai said, laughing. “Now Minh put third piece next to his other two. And you cannot win, because he then have three in a row with a space on both sides. No matter where you go next, he get four in a row.”
    Noah looked at the board. She was right. The boy had already beaten him. “I guess I owe you a dollar.”
    “You sure you play this game before?” she asked, giggling.
    “Yeah.”
    “Must have been a long, long time ago.”
    “It was.”
    “You want to play again? You play better this time. Sure, sure.”
    Noah’s stump itched, but he didn’t reach down. “What’s your name?” he asked, placing his first red piece in the board.
    “Mai. In English, it sound like the month after April. My friend is Minh. He no speak, so I speak for two of us. I like to talk, so it good deal for he and me.”
    Minh dropped his piece, wondering why the foreigner was sitting alone on a park bench.
    “Speaking is overrated,” Noah replied, watching the boy.
    Mai shrugged. “Why you no have girlfriend?”
    “Girlfriends are overrated too.”
    “Then you no have right girlfriend,” Mai said, opening one of her fans and then cooling herself. “I think when you have right girlfriend you no sit alone on park bench.”
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    “How much you pay for your hat? My friend sell this same hat.”
    “Seven dollars.”
    “Seven dollar? Are you crazy? Next time you come to me. I get for you cheaper. Sure, sure. Or I can sell you fan if you like. Very good to keep you cool.”
    The board was filling with black and red pieces. Noah studied it carefully, aware that the boy rarely took his eyes from it. “Why aren’t you in school?” he asked, glancing at Mai.
    Her smile faded. “We must make money. If we go to school, we no make money. Then we no eat. So I sell fans and Minh play games. Maybe someday we can go to school. Then we can learn more English, two plus two, capitals of Europe, and so on.”
    Noah held a game piece, debating his next move. The board was almost full, and he was being forced to go where he didn’t want to. “Does he ever lose?” Noah asked, dropping his piece.
    “Oh, yes. Many time. Maybe you even beat him next game.”
    “Next game?”
    “Oh, this game you lose. Sure, sure.”
    After a few more moves Noah lost. He watched the boy empty the game. Minh’s stump was just as active as his hand, separating the black and red pieces. Noah’s eyes found his and Minh nodded, clearly wanting to play again.
    “Just one more,” Noah said, wishing that he were still a child, that he could go back in time and then make different choices. His childhood had been the best part of his life. He’d cared only about sports and comic books and his family. He hadn’t yet pulled a trigger and watched a man crumple. He hadn’t looked into a mirror and seen a stranger. “Tonight,” he asked, “if I wanted a drink in a quiet place, where would I go?”
    Mai pursed her lips. “A quiet place in Ho Chi Minh City? Easier to find a hundred-dollar bill on Ham Nghi Street.”
    “There must be somewhere.”
    “Go to big riverboat. You can have dinner and a drink, and riverboat take