“Some days, I don’t know why I bother.” John stared at the chessboard. A puzzled frown creased his brow, and he studied the pieces intently. Then he glanced at his opponent.
Clay tugged his baseball cap off his head, ran a hand through his mussed hair. “Come on - before I’m old enough to drive.”
John reached out, placed a cautious fingertip on one of his knights, eyed Clay. The kid had a dangerously good poker face. There was no choice but to bite the bullet. John slid the knight across the board. Quick as a snake striking, Clay reached out and captured the knight with a bishop.
Then he sat back, expression impassive once more. “Check. Your move.”
John sighed and studied the board once more. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but Clay had his pieces securely pincered in one corner, and it was going to take a veritable bloodbath to get out.
“How long have you been playing chess again?”
“Captain Lyle taught me. Dad figured it’d keep me quiet and stop me from asking too many questions.”
“Too many questions?”
Clay nodded. “ ‘What if the birds in the sky suddenly started eating people?’ ‘What if the sea turned into salt and we had nothing left to drink?’”
“You think about those sorts of things often?” John arched an eyebrow.
“When I was six.”
John had to stifle the urge to laugh at Clay’s imperious air. “You’re eight.”
“Your move, sir.”
John sighed and slid a pawn forward, didn’t even flinch when Clay pounced on it with gusto. “You know,” John said, “you should play with Carolyn sometime.”
(271 words)
2 comments:
Wow. That was a fun little piece. I can picture it so clearly in my mind.
Yes I can post to little shop. I just didn't think about it. I will post some love on that site.
I backdated a post for yesterday. Fun with Joe.
Thanks for the love! I did check back and saw the post for Joe. I figured Clay deserved some love beyond being tortured. I honestly figured that if anyone would be good at chess, it'd be Dan, so I decided to pull a reversal on myself and give Clay a random and non-musical hobby.
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