Lisa, A Chess Novel by Kraai Jesse

Author:Kraai, Jesse [Kraai, Jesse]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Zugzwang Press
Published: 2013-10-12T16:00:00+00:00

LUBBOCK

Coming off the plane, Lisa thought she saw the word “chess” far down the terminal. She ran to it. All summer she had been like a metal detector, trying to find the game underneath what the Bay Area had thrown away. Now she read a glossy poster on a tripod: HERE AT TEXAS TECH WE PLAY CHESS! Behind the sign was a chess set whose pieces were the size of small children. Lisa jumped onto the oversized board where some non-chessplayers had assembled a nonsense position. She moved a bishop forcefully and shouted like Leo did at Turk and Market: “Check to the miserable king!” Lisa laughed heartily and began to right the pieces. “C’mon Igor,” she called, “let’s play a game.” But Igor hadn’t caught up to her.

Suddenly alone, Lisa remembered her night in Orinda. The life-sized queen was as big as the trophy Jan had put in the black plastic bag. Up close and large, the bishop really was unhappy; the knight’s snarl was vicious. The pieces reproached Lisa: What are you doing on our board? You are like a little boy playing with ants when you move us. You think you are bigger, that you are in control. You interfere with our supply lines. You bring ants from a different nest to battle us.

“Wanna play?” A thin Indian girl with glasses timidly stepped onto a corner of the board. Lisa turned to her, surprised to find this quiet creature in her world. The young woman leaned her weight upon the bald head of a white pawn and introduced herself as Saheli. Her dress had a modest elegance, with simple lines and cloth that looked handmade. “OK,” Lisa said.

Saheli’s father came up to the edge of the board and began to hover over his daughter’s moves. He woggled his head as if he were speaking a language, conveying the muttering dissatisfaction he felt in his daughter’s play. Then he scolded her, “तुम अपना घोडा बोर्ड के किनारे पर क्यों लेके जाते हो ? तुम्हे पता है ना की विशी कभी ऐसे नहीं खेलता.”

More girls came up; they must have all been on the same connecting flight. They must also be playing in the Polgar tournament, each the best player from their state. Lisa found herself tumbling along with them, first through baggage claim and then onto the curb where they were loaded up into silvery vans. Lisa’s vehicle soon became small in the darkness of many-laned highways circling the city. Distant neon signs flirted precut meat, of various slabs and sauciness. But Lisa didn’t notice. She and Saheli exchanged ratings and specialized opening knowledge. They talked about specific positions, without a set. Saheli talked about the flaws in her game, and whom she feared the most. Lisa bragged, “Right now I’m ranked seventy-ninth of all the women in the country. But if you take away the Asian and Jewish last names I’m already number nine!”

Lisa discovered that Saheli was driven by pursuits that weren’t chess. The fifteen-year-old from Georgia made sure to get an A in every class.

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