The last chess game, Chess City, Kalmykia
W hatever I do or say to apologize, there is no escaping from the Chessmaster’s game. And how in the world can I win or save the world from him? Why is it even my burden to do so when I’ve been the worst person in the world in the past?
“Ready, darling?” The Chessmaster’s dark tone returns tenfold. “Don’t ever think that the pain I’ve been through made me weaker. Don’t ever think I have a soft spot and will back off any moment. Being Death for all those years made me heartless, and there is only one joy left in my life: to see you suffer.”
“Why not ask to play against the Pillar?” I ask.
“I took care of the Pillar long ago,” he says. “I even ignored it when he escaped Chess City and left you behind. He is dying, only he doesn’t know it. I made sure he’d take the bait.”
“I thought it was me who was going to kill him,” I say. “He read it in the future.”
“But of course it was you who killed him—will kill him. You just don’t know it. He doesn’t know it.”
“How will I kill him if I die today?”
“People plant the seed of death in others long before anyone knows it, darling,” the Chessmaster says. “You think you have to pull the trigger to do so. Start playing, because you’re wasting my time.”
I stare with a blank mind at the table, then at the chess pieces, then at the cups of poison. There is no way I can survive this.
A man with a tray arrives with a complimentary drink all of a sudden. I glance at the Chessmaster to see if he is going to object, but he doesn’t.
“A complimentary drink…” The Chessmaster brushes the left side of his mustache. “Of death.” He laughs. “I’m always a good host. Never kill without a good last meal or drink. I’ll even pay for your coffin.”
None of the Chessmaster’s show unsettles me. In fact, I’m most curious about the man offering me the drink on the tray. Because it’s a Red. My guardian angel. The Dude.
“Didn’t know Reds work for you,” I tell the Chessmaster.
“They’re vulgar killing machines who would do anything for money,” the Chessmaster says. “I’m happy they conceal their faces under their hoods, because I’m sure they’re pretty ugly.”
But I don’t think my Red is ugly, because I can feel it—he is my guardian angel.
I reach for the glass, trying to meet his unseen eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but nods toward the glass. I squint, not sure what he is implying. He must be here to help me somehow.
Then, when he nods again, I see it. He is nodding at the bottom of the glass. There is a napkin, a round one, sticking out at the bottom. It’s a message. Another note. Now I certainly know it’s him.
Remember: “He Who Laughs Last” & “That you will die when you say so.”
I lift my head up and shrug, wishing the Red would explain further. But he nods, takes the glass back, and leaves.
Did he just give me a clue how to win this game? And how come those are the Pillar’s words? “He Who Laughs Last” was the Pillar’s theory in killing the giant. How can I implement this in the game of chess I’m about to play?
Then there is the silly “I will die when I say so,” those words the Pillar was feeding to the old people in the hospice.
Are those really the solution to my struggle? I can trust the Red, my guardian, but do I want to take advice from the Pillar after all I just heard about him?