“What’s wrong with you?”
“N … n … nothing. What is it?”
“I have a surprise.”
“What?” Naz asked again, still reeling from his confrontation with the gang members.
She withdrew her hands from behind her back to reveal Naz’s shoelace in one hand and a thin leather rope with what seemed like an unbreakable black clasp in the other. She had already put Naz’s key on the rope.
“Perfect,” he said as he slowly calmed down and put it around his neck.“Thank you. This was really starting to annoy me,” he continued, pointing to his shoe.
As he finished lacing his shoe, someone tapped him from behind.
“What?” Naz jumped up, as if he were shot out of a cannon, ready to defend himself.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ARTIE
STANDING over him was one of Naz’s classmates—the round, candy bar-eating kid from his first-hour math class and from Fears’class.“Sorry,” he said.
“Hey,” Naz said surprised.
“What’s up, Naz?” asked the boy casually,as if he and Naz were best buddies.“Who are you here with?”
“My sister,” Naz replied, still slightly rattled by the gang members and distracted by the tables.
The boy and Meri looked at each other.
“Excuse my brother. I’m Meri,” she said, shaking his hand.
“RD,” said the boy exuberantly.
“Yeah … Meri, this is Artie,” mumbled Naz.
Even though they were in two classes together, Naz had no idea what the boy’s name was, and he was a little embarrassed the boy knew his name, and it surprised him. After the first week in school the teachers didn’t call the class roll anymore, and he couldn’t remember anyone ever saying the boy’s name. To Naz, the boy was as invisible as he was. Apparently, Naz hadn’t been as invisible as he had thought himself to be.
“Not Artie,” the boy said.“RD … as in Raleigh Duplesiss.”
“Oh … RD,” said Naz.
“Yeah, Artie,” said the boy.
Naz and Meri gave each other a quick, silly look.
Naz turned his attention back to the tables as two more people, an older man and a girl about Naz’s age walked over and put down the remaining two flags. It must be his daughter, Naz thought. Something resembling a dinner bell sounded, and they sat at their tables. Meanwhile, others headed over to the tables.
“I’m here with my mom and dad, and my little sister and brother, Ryan and Rodney,” said Artie as he pointed back over his own shoulder.
Naz looked over Artie’s shoulder to see four figures. The only words that came to his mind were “a matched set,” as they all looked the same just in different heights, even the mother and sister. They all had curly, dark hair, only his mother and sister wore their hair longer. The smallest one, Rodney, was almost as wide as he was tall, and they were all carrying something to eat or drink.
“I’m here to see Mr. Ledbetter,” said Artie. “He’s gonna play the Chess Master. Did you know Mr. Ledbetter was the chess club coach at Lincoln? This is my third year in the club.”
Norman Ledbetter was also their math teacher. He was an extremely friendly, middle-aged man with a nervous tick who walked with a limp. He was also a war hero who had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and could often be seen talking to himself.
“Doyou play?” asked Artie.
“A little,” Naz replied, still watching, as people began to take their places at the chess tables.
“Are you any good?” Artie looked at him quizzically.
“Pretty good,” said Naz, modestly nodding his head.
“A little? Pretty good? He’s the best,” bragged Meri.“And today, he’s gonna prove it by beating the Chess Master.”
“Doubt it,” countered Artie.“Nobody ever beats the Chess Master. The best you can ever hope for is to be the last one he beats … or the last loser,” chuckled Artie.
“We’ll see,” Naz said coldly.
“Raleigh!” They turned to see a frail Mr. Ledbetter approaching.
“Now you can’t even hope for that,” Artie said,taunting Naz.“Hey, Mr. Ledbetter,” Artie continued, eagerly shaking his teacher’s hand.
“Glad to see you could make it. Ready to take some notes?” asked Mr. Ledbetter as he noticed Naz.
“Yes, sir!” said Artie.“Look who else is …”
“Andersen,” said Mr. Ledbetter surprised.“What brings you to the festival this Saturday afternoon?”
“Mr. Ledbetter,” nodded Naz respectfully, and then he pointed to the tables. He just now noticed the Chess Master had appeared, standing silent and still in the center of the tables, and with praying hands at his chin, he waited for everyone to be seated.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE CHESS MASTER
THE Chess Master wore a tattered tweed sports coat and a thick wool scarf, over a gray, Henley T-shirt that was missing buttons, a pair of oversized gray cargo pants that were frayed at the bottom, fingerless wool gloves, and a pair of barely worn loafers. Some of his matted coils of hair could be seen sticking through a large hole at the top of his old fedora. There was something contrived about his appearance, Naz thought, almost theatrical. He had a mangy beard and wore sunglasses, probably to hide his glassy, bloodshot eyes, Naz thought. Naz saw eyes like those everyday on every street corner in the Exclave.
“When did he come?” Naz muttered under his breath.
“You a fan of the game, here to take some notes as well, Andersen?” asked Mr. Ledbetter.
“He’s come to play,” said Artie mockingly.
“Is that right?” asked Mr. Ledbetter.
Naz nodded.
“And he’s gonna win,too,” said Meri again.
“Meri,” said Naz embarrassed.
“Nothing wrong with a little confidence,” said Mr. Ledbetter, smiling at Meri.“Shall we? We wouldn’t want to keep the Chess Master waiting, would we?”
They all walked over to the tables, and Naz and Mr. Ledbetter took their seats.
Naz looked at the field of chess players around him. To his immediate right, making up one side of the triangle with Naz were the father and daughter. On the three tables to Naz’s left, and making up another side of the triangle were an older lady, another homeless man that reeked of something awful, and some kind of nerd or bookworm that Naz affectionately termed, the Nerdsman. Making up the third and final side of the triangle were the distinguished-looking gentleman Naz had greeted earlier, Mr. Ledbetter, who was already talking to himself, and an extremely old man that must’ve come on the same bus as the older lady, thought Naz. No wonder the Chess Master’s never lost, Naz thought. His competition is two senior citizens, rejects from a daddy-daughter dance, a basket case, and another homeless man. I’d be undefeated, too. Besides himself, only the Nerdsman and the distinguished-looking gentleman could possibly have a chance, Naz thought. But he also knew, oh too well from experience, that looks could be deceiving.
The black chess pieces were on the outside of the tables in front of Naz and the other eight players while the white pieces were on the inside. The Chess Master would make the first moves.
The bell sounded again, and the Chess Master wasted no time. He moved to the table to the left of Naz and moved a pawn two spaces forward. He then continued clockwise, moving a different piece at every table until he reached the father and daughter. He obviously figured them as related, decided not to distinguish them from one another, and would play them as one until their play dictated otherwise. He smiled at them and moved his same knight on each of their boards simultaneously two spaces forward and one to the left, which seemed to confuse the father and daughter.
Finally he got to Naz. Even though Naz couldn’t see his eyes, he could feel the Chess Master looking at him through those dark glasses.
“Get ’em, Naz,” said Meri.
The Chess Master turned his head slightly, obviously looking at Meri, he smiled then made wh
at seemed like a random move of a pawn two spaces forward and quickly moved to his right for the second round.
Naz made his move immediately so he could watch how the Chess Master operated as well as see how the other players were doing. He figured he could tell pretty early on who would be leaving the tables first, but the Chess Master’s play was erratic and unpredictable, and this made it hard for Naz to figure out what was going on. The Chess Master didn’t seem like a master at all to Naz. He was letting weaker players off the hook when they were in obvious trouble and struggling with the stronger players. And there was something else about him, his fingers, his shoes, the way he smelled that puzzled Naz, and something even more that Naz couldn’t quite work out.
By the eleventh round, the first to be seated was the first to rise as the distinguished-looking gentleman was eliminated. And Naz knew then the Chess Master was targeting the stronger players. Naz learned somewhere that the first rule of war was to eliminate the greatest threat, and the Chess Master had done that, or at least he thought he had. Boy is he gonna be in for a big surprise, Naz thought. As Naz looked at the vacant table across from him, the now standing little white flag took on a new meaning: surrender. And then there were eight.
In the very next round the homeless man eliminated himself by passing out from inebriation. To the delight of the older lady and the Nerdsman, festival security removed him from the tables. And then there were seven.
Two rounds later, the old man’s number was up, and so went his flag. And then there were six.
Just then Naz heard it, the voice, faint but clear. “Checkmate,” the voice said quietly.
Naz gave his head a little shake. He listened closely, but there was nothing. He wasn’t scared, angry, or even excited anymore. His game with the Chess Master had gotten relatively boring. I probably just imagined it, Naz thought.
In the next round, the Chess Master no longer found the father and daughter team amusing, as they constantly argued with each other over which pieces to move. He took them both out of play at the same time. Naz was taught that the second rule of war is that consensus is the lack of leadership, and there is no deliberation in the heat of battle, only individual achievement, initiative, and decision. And then there were four.
Naz was getting impatient. He felt like the Chess Master wasn’t taking him seriously. He hasn’t taken or given anything, Naz thought, but neither have I. I’m playing too conservatively. I need to be more aggressive.
Then it was Mr. Ledbetter, who had put up a valiant fight, but ultimately went down in flames. There was moderate applause. He stood up, shook the Chess Master’s hand, put his little white flag up, and then walked over and stood behind Naz. And then there were three.
A small crowd began to gather at the tables. As predicted, the Nerdsman was giving a good account of himself, and Naz saw this as an opportunity to strike at the fully-engaged Chess Master. Naz made an aggressive move, capturing one of the Chess Master’s knights. Unalarmed, the Chess Master continued his passive play with Naz, ignoring the capture with a nonchalant move of his own. Is he still not taking me seriously? Naz asked himself. The older lady next to Naz was decent enough, but clearly no match for the Chess Master, Naz, or the Nerdsman, yet she was allowed to linger there with false hope.
In the next two rounds the Nerdsman would fall, and his little white flag would rise. But he had put up a good fight. And then there were two.
And there it was again, faint but unmistakable.“Checkmate,” the voice said.
Naz shook his head again. Not now, he thought. His phone buzzed in his pocket and startled him. Who would be sending me a text now? he wondered. I told Mr. Tesla and the other merchants
I wasn’t working today. It could only be… Meri. He looked at his phone to read:
Impressive
He turned around and winked at Meri confidently. She tried to wink back as best she could. That was a good distraction, he thought, and the voice was gone again.
If that last move didn’t get his attention, maybe this one will, Naz thought. He made another aggressive move, putting the Chess Master’s king in check.
“Check,” Naz said matter-of-factly.
The growing crowd began to mutter in awe, as this was the first time that day the Chess Master’s king had been put in check. Seemingly unconcerned, the Chess Master quickly moved his king to safety and then moved to finally eliminate and dismiss the older lady. Dismantling the Nerdsman first, and then the older lady, the Chess Master was obviously employing the first rule of war again: eliminate the most serious threat, Naz thought. He had been courteous to the older lady throughout, letting her last almost to the very end. When he finally captured her king, he tipped his hat to her, grabbed her fingers ever so delicately as she stood, and kissed the back of her hand. The older lady blushed as the now sizable crowd erupted in applause. And then there was one.
At that point Naz knew it had all been a performance, orchestrated by the Chess Master himself. They had all been pawns put in play to carry out his sadistic show. Well, not all of us, Naz thought. Naz knew that there were only eight pawns on each side in a game of chess, and all of those are gone, thought Naz, counting the eight now vacant tables. So be it, Naz thought. Showtime it is.
It had been well over an hour since the games began. One spectator handed the Chess Master a bottle of water. He opened the bottle and turned away from Naz to drink. At that moment Naz’s phone buzzed again with another text. He looked at it again and read:
Most Impressive
He turned and looked at Meri again, this time with an agitated expression.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“You’re distracting me,” he responded wryly.
Someone next to Meri reached out to hand Naz a bottle of water. He declined. When he turned back around, the Chess Master was facing him, obviously staring at him through those dark glasses again. Then the Chess Master lowered his head slightly. He was looking at something else. Naz looked down. Is it the scar on my neck? Naz wondered. No, it was the key hanging around Naz’s neck that had caught the Chess Master’s attention.
“Get ’em, Naz,” said Meri.
“Yeah, get ’em,Naz,” echoed a now convinced Artie.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THE MAN IN BLACK
NAZ made a defensive move, trying to bait the Chess Master into a confrontation. The bell sounded, and the Chess Master stepped back from the table. A puzzled Naz looked on. Moments later a clean-cut young man dressed in a black suit appeared from the crowd of spectators and stood next to the Chess Master. Is this fair? Naz thought. Is he getting help? The Chess Master began taking off his scarf while studying the board intently. After about two minutes, with the help of the man in black, the Chess Master used the thick wool scarf as a blindfold to cover his eyes. He intended to play the rest of the game blindfolded. Naz’s eyes panned the crowd as they murmured in awe and amazement again. Did this impress them? Naz wondered, this trick? It didn’t mean he was good at chess. The Chess Master memorized where the pieces were on the board, and then the man in black would convey Naz’s moves to the Chess Master, and then move the Chess Master’s pieces for him. It’s a cheap parlor trick, nothing more. He’s no chess master; he’s a charlatan, thought Naz.
Continuing to pan the crowd, Naz caught a glimpse of a familiar face. It was a face he had seen only twice before, but it was burned into his memory that first day of school. It was the face of the man who had driven by as Ham almost bled to death that morning. And earlier that same morning he was parked in front of Miss Tracey’s house. Has he been following me … watching me? Naz thought. Nah … it’s just another coincidence, only … I don’t believe in coincidences. There’s too much going on. I have to focus.
Blindfolded, Naz laughed. What a joke. I should return the favor and play standing on my hands right on this table … and the crowd would go wild, he laughed again. Nope, I’m just gonna beat him fair and square, no tricks.
The Che
ss Master didn’t take the bait on Naz’s move. It was as if he were oblivious to it. He directed the man in black to carry out his next move, a basic move, nothing special, Naz thought.
Naz was insulted by the Chess Master’s arrogance and passive play, so he went after him with both guns blazing. He tried to embarrass me with his little blindfold stunt. Now I’m gonna embarrass him, Naz thought. Two moves later Naz cornered the Chess Master’s king again, stunning the crowd of onlookers.
“Check,” Naz said arrogantly, looking at the Chess Master.
The Chess Master smiled calmly as he directed the man in black to effect his narrow escape. This infuriated Naz. He studied the board then picked up his queen and took aim—his target—the Chess Master’s king—for the final blow. He would finally put this sham to shame and out of his misery for good.
“Check,” Naz said triumphantly for the third and final time.
Then without warning, it happened. The man in black took Naz’s queen with the Chess Master’s queen and in the process trapped Naz’s king on every side. Everything fell silent. Naz looked at the Chess Master and saw his lips barely move to say along with the voice,“Checkmate,” and it was all over.
Suddenly the silence was engulfed with the noise of clapping and voices, and Naz was up, shaking everyone’s hand. But I lost, he thought. He turned back around, and the Chess Master was gone. Through all of the handshaking and accolades, Artie was saying something unintelligible, while patting him on the back, Mr. Ledbetter was letting Naz know he would see him Monday after school for chess club, and Meri just wanted to know what happened. Through all the commotion he noticed his phone buzzing again. He looked at it the third time to read:
But you are not a Jedi yet.
He looked at Meri and thought she was rubbing it in, but she hadn’t sent him a text. When he looked back at his phone again, he noticed it wasn’t Meri who had sent it. She hadn’t sent the previous two texts either. The sender had blocked the number, if that was even possible, Naz thought. He looked around for the mysterious man with the hat from the first day of school. He was nowhere to be found. He looked around again for the Chess Master. He too was gone. If he were looking for some excitement in his life, this day he had surely found it.
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