Mate

I was sitting across the table from a moose named Morris Umbridge, a physicist originally from Orson, PA. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and barrel-chested with hands the size of Frisbees, looking more like a lineman than a scientist. His eyes were a deep cold sapphire blue. The booth was much too small for him. He crowded and bunched around it, grumbling yet refusing to move to a regular table. “The chairs are too small”, he’d said. “Better uncomfortable here with a measure of privacy than uncomfortable out there. They stare at me.” That last part came out with a twinge of guilt and embarrassment. He hated being as large as he was.

I made a move that gave him a bit of pause. He surveyed the board, nervous for the first time all game. “I ought to have sent you on your way by now”, he said, almost to himself.

“And miss out on the repartee? Heaven forbid, sir! Besides, beneath all that grumpy bulldog huffing and puffing, you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

“Humph! I’m only keeping watch over you until your mother arrives to collect you. I’d imagine it’s quite past your bedtime.”

“Ain’t it ever! And I’m in desperate need of a good changing. Mind if I borrow one of your diapers? I’m fresh out.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as his face went beet red. I struggled for something to say. “I… I’m sorry. I was only joking. I didn’t know that you really –“

“Touche”, he said quietly, betraying the vaguest hint of a smile.

I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. His mouth opened on a smile like a white picket fence and he began laughing as well. We laughed like that for a while, me stomping my feet and he patting the table intermittently with one huge hand.

The game continued.

A few moves later Morris began mumbling to himself and shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“You can quit now if you like”, I said. “There’s no dishonor in admitting defeat.”

“Is this how it is with you all day long?”, he asked. “Your friends must adore you.”

“I’ve been known to inspire applause here and there. It’s a gift really.”

Morris grumbled and shook his head. “I’ll see this one through to the end.”

I’d spent much of the early afternoon wandering about like a battered moth, trying to outrun a bad case of loneliness. I had been walking and reading for miles, my nose deep in a book I didn’t have all that much interest in. When I finally closed the book and looked up, I was in strange country.

I had a choice between asking directions at a gas station or doing the same at a bar a few building over. I was lonely. And thirsty. And didn’t want Gatorade. My choice was clear.

The bar was dark and mercifully cool. I spied Morris while waiting for the bartender who seemed more interested in Nascar than his job. Morris was situated at the farthest booth from the bar’s entrance. He had a chess board in front of him with all the pieces arranged and ready to go. And he was sitting alone.

I hung around for a bit, curious to see if someone would show up and challenge him but no one came. I chanced a “How’s it going?” on the way to the restroom and was ignored completely. On the way back, I paused at the bar to order a beer and shot a glance over my shoulder while I waited. Morris was wringing his hands and chewing his bottom lip, staring out the window with a hurt look on his face. I recognized that look immediately. When my beer arrived, I walked over, took a seat, and made the first move.

Initially, he stared at me with frank surprise. “Well, whoever they are, they’re not showing up any time soon. I figure we can get at least a game in before your buddy arrives”, I said, smiling.

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he picked up a piece and made his first move.

“That was a rather… intimate gesture, young man; joining a stranger at his table uninvited”.

I paused in the middle of a move, a pawn dangling from my fingers. “I wanted to play and you needed a partner. You’re welcome, by the way. I could just as easily have sat at the bar with all..."

“You wanted to play so you sat down – end of story. Keep the rambling to a minimum if you please. I’m concentrating.”

“But it’s my move!”

He looked over his glasses at me. “I’d tell you to quit being a prick but it seems to suit you. Carry on.”

I stood and gave a curtsy. “Thank you kindly!”

He mumbled something under his breath and the game continued.


For those interested in the actual game, here’s the history:

Drew: White
Morris: Black

1. e2-e4 e7-e5
2. g1-f3 b8-c6
3. b1-c3 g8-f6
4. d1-e2 f8-b4
5. c3-d5 o-o
6. c2-c3 b4-d6
7. d2-d4 e5xd4
8. f3-g5 f8-e8
9. e2-f3 f6xd5
10. f3xf7+ g8-h8
11. f7-h5 h7-h6
12. g5-f7+ h8-h7
13. f7xd8 e8xe4+
14. f1-e2 e4xe2+
15. h5xe2 d5-f4
16. e2-e4+ f4-g6
17. d8-f7 c6-e5
18. f7xe5 d6xe5
19. o-o d7-d6
20. c1xh6 h7xh6
21. e4-f3 d4xc3
22. f1-e1 c8-d7
23. f3-e3+ h6-h7
24. b2xc3 a8-e8
25. e3-g5 e5-f4
26. g5-h5+ f4-h6
27. e1xe8 d7xe8
28. h5-f5 b7-b5
29. a1-e1 e8-c6
30. e1-e6 c6-d7
31. f5xg6+ h7-h8
32. e6-e7