*Hollins University Short Story finalist in fiction/poetry National Contest
The air is thin, so cold with the wind and zero-degree weather. I can't breathe. We sit there anyway, in a quiet struggle. The table makes a noise every time the forceful wind blows by. My chair isn't steady, one leg, the front right one, is shorter than the left leg in the back. Even with all of this, I still focus on the chess board. It's your move. In the beginning, I was surprised by your moves. Now I know. I know the move before you do. I know you'll move your knight to E5, and I know that it's a horrible choice.
The chess board used to be shiny. The red was magnificent and the black shone so bright that the players could see their faces in it. I know you like to see your face in things. You always put so much effort into your looks. You make everyone wait around for you while you fix every little detail. Now the board is thin. It can't take any more games. We've played with this board too many times. I don't want to play. I never did. I always wanted to stick to something simple, like checkers. That doesn't drain me. But you wanted to play chess. You imagine there is a kind of glory in it when you win.
I remember when we first started playing this game. You were kind, you never said much, but you asked if I wanted to sit down with you to play. I didn't seem the harm at the time. You're still hoping to win, because all you've ever do is lose. You force me to play because you know I have the upper hand every time and I only get better as we go. After a while, losing became too much for you. So, you have resorted to other strategies. Now I'm not surprised by the lies you tell, the distractions you try to throw my way. Not winning, it drives you insane. I win all your men, but it's only natural. The chess board was mine in the first place.
You've become shallow, pathetic. Instead of playing, trying to outsmart me, you only yell insults. I know you are only jealous of my skill, and my desire to be rid of the game. I have no time for childish things, but you force me to sit there in that rickety chair and make a move. I have no more moves to play. I won a long time ago. Even before we brought out the beautiful board that once was nice and new. You never could beat me, even when you tried your best.
Oh, you tried your best. You did everything in your power to win my king and take him away from me. You feigned concern for him, so that I might let my guard down. You aren't the first person I've played this horrible game with. Your tactics aren't original. You think you're so clever, but the pieces know what you want. Sitting here playing this game is only a cover for what you really wish to do.
Hoping that if I turn around, look at the trees that have lost all their leaves, you can crush me and leave me out in the dust for good. You continue to insist that I play, as if you enjoy my company. Now yet again, it's my move. You've done horrible things to try and gain glory, and the grass around us has grown to my elbows. We have been playing this game too long and I'm bored. I want to play a different game and I don't want to play with you.
What do I do? How do I end this game for good?
Silence.
You always hated silence. You always wanted to chat in order to manipulate me into handing over my king. That's how I win every time. Silence. I keep my moves to myself and the wind howls and the trees rustle, making you nervous. You can't even look at my king anymore.
Then it happens. I just took your king.
Now I'm done. I see the damage you've created. The table has lost its beautiful brown shine, and my board is destroyed. The trees have reached maturity, and the grass is now up to my shoulders. The wind pushes me, going faster than it ever has before. I bet you didn't expect that I would be prepared this time, thinking that you finally had the upper hand. Except, I knew you would have a plan, so I brought protection. A hand enters my vision and I take hold, trusting it to keep me safe. Another set of hands cut through the grass, through the forest you built, and I break through into a different scene.
This one is beautiful, with mountains and valleys. The trees are covered in brown, yellow, red, and orange leaves that float to the ground. The air is nice, and I don't need to wrap myself up to enjoy it. I sit down, a new board is set up in front of me, the brown squares are light, and the black is shiny and new. I move my white piece forward and jump over the black piece, taking it for myself. The friend who rescued me, smiles and laughs. There will be plenty of games, but I know it will be fair and I will find peace here. Now that I know what it's like to play a different game, I won't play chess with you again. You have lost the game and me.
Check mate.
