Openings

by Thomas Davidsmeier

  Openings

  Book 1 of The Divided Lands

  A LitRPG Series

  By Thomas Davidsmeier

  Chapter 1

  Joy and fear were running a race in Christopher McKnight’s chest. He had no idea which emotion would win. That was just like he had no idea which side would win this game. Chris and his friend Jeremy “Jolly” Rogers were playing the infamous Memorial Park Hustlers for the fourth Saturday in a row. After the first Saturday, the two boys had talked it up so much at school, they had started to draw a crowd. Now, middle schoolers, their parents, and a few random passers by were watching as Chris and Jeremy put their chess playing skills to the test against “The Best Around.”

  Their pieces tapped out a steady rhythm on the stone table. Slapping hands popped a battered chess clock like a snare drum. It was a round robin game. Two sides, two players on each side taking turns to make their team’s move. Chris and Jeremy made one team, two ten-year-old boys with glittering eyes. Two intimidating old men with bushy eyebrows made up the other team.

  One old man would dance up to the table for his move. The other would smoothly make way for him. Chris and Jeremy would move their piece, slap the clock, and dash out of the way so the other boy could jump into place.

  The spectators watched in silence. The four players’ breathing, pieces clicking, and hands punching the clock were the only sounds in this corner of the park.

  The tempo of the old men’s dance became faster, their breathing heavier, and even Chris and Jeremy’s running and trading places sped up. Like a scratched record, the rhythm of the game suddenly broke. A move did not come on its appointed beat. No click. No clock punch. There was a collective gasp from the audience. One of the old men was holding his chin, glaring down at the pieces from under his bushy eyebrows.

  He scowled.

  The clock kept running.

  Both young boys on the other side of the table held their breath. The other old man muttered, “Be careful, Rufus.”

  “I see it, Chuck. Don’t be givin’ advice.” The old man stared at the pieces and moved his hand off of his chin and toward his side’s king.

  Christopher McKnight fought the urge to react. He pulled his Captain America’s shield t-shirt up to his nose to hid his face. Jeremy grabbed his skull-and-crossbones t-shirt and did the exact same thing. The two boys pulled this move to hide their expressions when they were playing each other. Too many times one of them had guessed what the other was thinking and managed to escape clever traps.

  Chuck, the old man who was standing back from the table this round began to laugh. “Look at ‘em! We’ve been got by banditos, Rufus! They’ve got us dead to rights.” It was a bold statement from a man who charged all comers five dollars a game to play him.

  Rufus just glared some more at the pieces. He, for one, was just happy they had not taken the pirate kid’s offer to bet twenty bucks on this particular match. “Give me a second before you get all scared of the ten-year-olds over there. I’ll get us out of this... Ah! See, here we go.” He moved their king and slapped the clock with bravado.

  It was false bravado.

  Jeremy jumped forward like a lion on a wounded wildebeest. Click-slap. He practically dove out of the way. Christopher charged up into his place, Captain America’s shield still hiding his now smiling face.

  “You thought that was gonna save us?” Chuck gave Rufus a dark look.

  Click. Chuck paused a long while looking at Christopher. He acted like he was just waiting for Chris to go. He crossed his arms impatiently. Chris just looked at the board, waiting.

  It was just a last second hustler ploy. Chuck had set a trap, but Chris was not falling for it. The old man grunted and slapped the clock. If Chris had touched any of his pieces before Chuck slapped the clock, Jeremy and Chris would have been DQ’ed for going out of turn.

  Finally free to move, Chris carefully jumped his knight into place, finishing the checkmate. Click. He politely slapped the clock just like he had all game long to end his final turn.

  Looking at the boys’ covered faces, Chuck shook his head. “Banditos. Cap’n America there is a polite one, but they’re banditos none the less.”

  The crowd slowly realized that was it and the boys had actually won. Chaotic conversations broke out everywhere.

  “We did it!” shouted Jeremy leaping up and down. “YEEES!” He pumped his fist like he was starting a lawnmower.

  Chris was careful to shake both men’s hands before he began to celebrate. After he had done that, he hugged his friend and jumped up and down with him. “It only took us twelve tries! We beat them! We really beat them!”

  He ran over to his dad, his brother, and little sister. “We did it, Dad, we really did it!”

  “Are you famous now?” giggled Chris’s little sister, Abby.

  “I knew you would do it!” squealed Chris’s little brother, Jack. “You’re so good at everything!”

  Chris picked up Jack and swung him around. Jack and Abby were twins, but Abby had been born first, and Jack had always been small for his age. The two brothers used that fact to acrobatic advantage all the time. Jack laughed as he flew around in circles. Chris let him down slowly. But, Jack did not want to let go of his victorious big brother. So, he climbed up onto Chris’s back. Jack was light as a feather; Chris did not mind.

  “Congratulations, Chessmaster!” Chris’s dad reached out and swirled around Chris’s sandy blonde hair with his free hand. The proud father asked with a twinkle in his eye, “Want to go for ice cream to celebrate?”

  “Can Jeremy come too?”

  “Of course he can, if his parents say it’s ok.”

  As Chris zigged and zagged through the crowd, Jack flew one way then the other on his back. Blue eyes wide, the little brother shouted to everybody who would listen, “My big brother won! My big brother won!”

  On the far side of the crowd, the brothers found Jeremy. He was standing with his shaggy blonde head hung to the side, his hands in his pockets. He did not look like the kid who had just beat the Memorial Park Hustlers in a game of Round Robbin.

  Jack loved Jeremy almost as much as he loved his big brother. The little boy shouted to his strangely somber friend, “Jolly! Did you know that you and Chris won? You won!”

  Jeremy gave a short little laugh and nodded. “We sure did, Short Stuff.”

  Jeremy was staring at a fit, trim man sitting on a park bench between a round, middle-aged lady, and a younger woman who looked like she had been out for a jog before she sat down. The round, older woman was staring at her cell phone, her thumbs occasionally twitching across the screen. The man had his arm around the middle-aged woman, but he was talking to the jogger. The jogger and the man laughed together at something.

  Chris finally caught his breath. “Do you want to come get ice cream with us? My dad’s treating to celebrate.”

  Like a storm cloud thundering in the distance, Jeremy replied, “Let me ask my parents.”

  The boy stalked over to the older woman and tapped her gently on the shoulder. She looked up, momentarily dazed. “Chris is going to get ice cream, can I go with him?”

  Jeremy’s dad turned away from the young jogger and asked, “How’d the game go, champ? Did you finally get them this time? What’s it been six or seven tries?”

  “Twelve, actually. And yeah, we finally got ’em.” Jeremy smiled hopefully at his dad and asked, “Chris is going to get ice cream with his family, do you think we could go too?”

  “Well, I’ve got to get into the office to work on somethings this afternoon,” Jeremy could have sworn that the jogger smiled at this, but she looked away at the same time. “But, you could go with them if you want.”

  Jeremy’s mom finally spoke. “Will they get you back by d
inner? I assume your father will be late as always, but I still would like to know how much to order or heat up.”

  “They’ll get me back in time, Mom. It’s only two o’clock now.” Jeremy smiled at his mother reassuringly.

  She nodded and her gaze drifted back to her phone, signaling the end of the conversation. Jeremy’s dad was already joking with the jogger again. Disappointed, the boy turned his back on them and headed toward Chris.

  * * *

  Four years later, they had to brushed leaves off the table before they set up the pieces. Jeremy wore gloves while they played. Chris let the cold bite his fingers. It kept other thoughts at bay. At least it did for a little bit.

  They set up the pieces in silence. Neither realized how preoccupied their friend was. Each was too overwhelmed with their own lives to notice the other.

  Chris was the first to break the silence.

  “Jack isn’t going to come home from the hospital this time. He’s not going to get better. He said he’s going to be done-zo. He really said it that way.”

  Jeremy stared back in silence. His eyebrows fell and his mouth drooped at the corners. “How?”

  “I don’t know. The cancer spread out too much or something. It got somewhere they can’t do anything to. I don’t know. I thought he was supposed to be getting better. I don’t know. I...”

  Chris was weeping. He put his ice cold hands up to his face to wipe away the blazing trails of tears on his cheeks. No matter how much he tried, he could not wipe hard enough. The trails were still there, burning his face.

  Jeremy sucked in a breath that sounded like a soul breaking into a million tiny pieces. “I’m sorry about your little brother, Chris. I love him like my own.”

  He paused for a long time and then went on. “My dad’s not coming back either. I mean, it’s not like he’s dying or anything, but he might as well be dead. The dad who loved me is already dead. For a long time now, I’ve been stuck with this horrible zombie father who acts like he’s alive but isn’t. He pretends to love, but he doesn’t. Wants to see me on the weekends. I guess there’s that. I’m sorry.”

  * * *

  The last day of January was not the time to play chess in a park. But, here they were. Jack had died three years ago. Jeremy’s parents had gotten divorced at the same time. Chris and Jeremy had played together less and less.

  Gravely, Chris smiled at his friend. “I’ve missed you on the chess team and at lunch.”

  “Yeah, I go out for lunch most days.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Yeah. I only keep the best company.”

  Chris snorted and gave Jeremy a full-hearted smile. “I wish I got to hang out with you more.”

  “You’re the only one. I think I heard my parents arguing over who had to take me for the next two weeks. Neither one of them wanted me around.”

  Chris did not know what to say back. He had a gaping hole in his life that was the shape of his little brother. But, he still had his mom and dad and little sister. Jeremy had a life that seemed to have become one giant, gapping hole, like a smoldering crater.

  Stumbling around the emotional wreckage in both their lives, Chris flailed for a way to help his friend. As a teenage boy, he was more like an empty handed savage on a crash scene than a paramedic. All Chris could finally manage was to ask, “Wanna play a regular game or speed chess?”

  “Did you bring a clock? How are we gonna play speed chess without a clock?”

  “I promise to go as fast as I can every time.”

  Jeremy laughed derisively. “Yeah, I trust you to do that Christopher McKnight. You’ve always been a stand up guy. But, I don’t trust myself to keep to that kind of promise, and I don’t wanna cheat the rules. It’s no fun winning a game that isn’t fair. Regular will have to do for now.”

  Jeremy reached out a black clad hand and arm and swept the snow off of the stone table. “The field of battle, sir. Deploy your troops!” He tucked his big, black trench coat around him and sat down.

  The two boys smiled as they set up their pieces. It had been too long.

  “I like that little skull-and-crossbones pin on your jacket. When did you get that?”

  “My dad’s girlfriend gave it to me for my last birthday. Man, she knows me better than my own dad or mom. It is disgusting.”

  “Hey, at least she cares, right?”

  “No. She’s just trying to buy off my approval. She really wants my dad to marry her and start a family. She’s trying to show that she’ll be an involved mom unlike mine. Too bad Dad doesn’t even notice, or care as far as I can tell.”

  “Did she get you those other pins too?”

  Jeremy seemed uncomfortable for a minute. “Nah, I got them to go with the other one. It looked lonely like me. I figured I could buy it some company even if I couldn’t get anybody to hang with me.”

  “Man, all you’ve gotta do is ask. It’s been way too long since we’ve hung out.”

  “You’re busy all the time,” countered Jeremy as he started his favorite opening. Click. “You’re in almost as many clubs as that Olivia girl. A lot of the same ones too. How’s that going?”

  Chris responded with the standard defense to Jeremy’s opening. “How’s what going?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. I know you’re not. You’re crushing on that Senior bad. You’re both churchies aren’t you? Go to the same Flying Spaghetti Monster cult on Sundays?” Jeremy threw in a loopy variation that Chris never remembered him playing before.

  “You mean the one you used to go to with me when we were little? Yeah, I still go.” Chris tried to respond to Jeremy’s weird attack by moving his light bishop in the way.

  “Even after your little brother?”

  Chris almost swore at Jeremy. His face went flush with anger and sorrow and pain as the old wound was ripped wide open. All he could manage to say was just, “Yes.”

  Chris would never admit it to himself, but when Jack died, something inside him had died as well. Chris had started feeling like God was a zombie father to him just like Jeremy’s dad had been to Jeremy. God pretended to love His children, but when it came to Jack, God did not love him enough to save him. Who knew who else God would not love enough?

  Dumbfounded and gasping for breath, Chris whispered, “Why would you ask that?”

  Even though he was clearly in a superior position, Jeremy reached out his hand and very slowly tipped his own king over onto its side.

  “Just to see if you were a hypocrite like all the rest of them. By the way you’re acting, you’re probably not. You’re not gonna tell me it was all for the best. Which is good for you. Let me just give you a little advice. If you’re planning on doing anything special for your crush on Valentine’s Day, I suggest you do it far away from school.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s just say that the hypocrites and the heartless are going to get what’s coming to them.”

  “You can’t be serious, Jeremy.”

  “Oh yes. I’m totally serious, and I’m gonna be famous too.”

  Chris felt like he had been punched in the head, knocked on the ground, and stomped. “What are you talking about?”

  “Chris, I told you I know you’re not dumb, so stop acting like you are.”

  “How is doing what you’re talking about, if you’re really talking about what I think you’re talking about, going to fix anything? Why don’t you come to youth group with me on Wednesday? I’ll introduce you to the folks there. They’re like me, man. If you think I’m not-half-bad, you’ll like them too. Man, you can’t do this. They’ll catch you before you do it. You’re going to get in so much trouble. Jeremy you’re going to wreck your life!”

  “My life is already a shipwreck, like that dude in the comic inside the Watchmen. I’m not getting out; I’m not escaping. But, I’m going to take all these smug Stacys and Chads down first.”

  “Chads and Stacys? What are you, some kind of internet cliche machine?” Chris tried to use Jeremy’s prid
e against him.

  “Cliche or not, you know who I meant didn’t you? It’s who they are. Hollow. Empty. Caricatures of caricatures with no originals.”

  How could Chris defend a culture that he found repulsive too? His mind stumbled around inside his friend’s ideas. He latched onto something that just did not make sense.

  “You’re not like those guys, Jeremy. They were all mad that they couldn’t get a date and nobody loved them. What about that little red haired girl that you went out with in the fall?”

  Jeremy just shook his head slowly. “That’s not what this is about for me. Of course I can get a date. Could probably get more if I wanted it. But, that’s the trap my dad fell into. I’ve got a mission, Chris. I’m gonna leave the world a better place than when I found it, even if it is addition by subtraction.”

  Chris’s emergency sanity reserves ran out. He just could not process this situation any more. “Jeremy, when did you become so evil?”

  Jeremy snorted. “Evil? What horrible evil am I gonna be doing? They’re all gonna grow up to get married, pop out some rug rats, and then abandon them when they realized its too hard to actually love them. I’m just saving them the trouble, and saving all their kids all that pain. Man, I’m taking evil out of the world.”

  * * *

  It was the second of February. Chris was sick to his stomach in the lunch line, and this time it was not because of the disgusting cafeteria food. He had made an appointment with the dean and the on campus cop for after school. Jeremy had basically told him that he was going to commit an atrocity on Valentine’s Day. What else could he do but turn him in? He was going to ruin his best friend’s life. Chris could not believe that Jeremy would ever do something like he had implied he was planning. Was he going to ruin Jeremy’s life for some empty threat that was really just a cry for help? Chris wished there was someone he could ask for help about this.

  Instead, he saw the freshman from his engineering class and robotics team sitting alone at a table fiddling with some sort of box. Chris muttered to himself, “Better go talk to him so that he doesn’t turn into another Jeremy down the road.”