CHESS GAME

By:  Debra P.

 

 

The two opponents stared at each other from opposite sides of the chessboard and neither one blinked.  Adam Cartwright leaned back on the settee, settling himself to wait for his brother’s next move.  Hoss sat on the stones by the hearth where a low fire burned and lowered his eyes to focus on the board which rested on the low table between them, trying to read the possibilities to be found in the position of the pieces.  After a couple of minutes he scrunched up his brow and hesitantly reached out his hand to move one of his white pawns a single space ahead.
In response, Adam leaned forward and gazed at the altered position with the same intent absorption that he would have brought to the reading of a Shakespearean play.

 

“Don’t take all day now, Adam,” Hoss chided gently. 

 

Adam looked up at his brother, preparing to remind him that he tended to take more time for each move than Adam did.  But then he happened to notice the slight abrasion on Hoss’ cheek, and that turned his thoughts in another direction, to the incident that had taken place in town earlier that day.

 

Twenty-two-year-old Adam, who had only recently arrived home after graduating from college, had been assigned to go into town and pick up a load of supplies, and sixteen-year-old Hoss had asked their father if he could go along.  Recognizing the brothers’ need to spend some time together after having been separated for so long, Ben had readily agreed, and the two young men had set off happily seated side by side on the wagon.

 

Their business at the Mercantile went smoothly.  As Hoss began to carry boxes outside to be loaded Adam was checking over the bill to make sure that the amount being added to the Ponderosa’s account was correct and obtaining a few additional items.  Just as Adam was turning to leave he heard voices being raised  directly outside the store.    Hoss was confronting two boys of about his own age whom Adam recognized as Mack and Harry Keefer, even though he had not seen them since before he had left for college.  The Keefer twins had been notable as the ones who, more than anyone else, had teased and tormented Hoss over his size all through his school years, and it seemed, from what Adam could tell, that they were still out to cause trouble.  As Adam came up to the door, one of them was throwing the words “big, fat, dumb old ox” at his brother, which made him as angry as it must have made Hoss.

 

But Hoss had learned by hard experience how to rein in his anger and not let it get the better of him.  With a disdainful toss of his head he turned away from the Keefers and stepped toward the wagon to load the box he held.  Unfortunately, the Keefers were not inclined to simply let the matter go, and one of them stuck out his leg, tripping Hoss, sending him sprawling to the sidewalk and causing him  to drop the box.

 

At that, Adam stepped through the door and confronted the Keefers, his feet spread apart and his hands on his hips in a threatening posture. 

 

“I think the two of you had better get as far away from here as you can as fast as you can,” he said in a deadly cold voice, “before he gets up and he and I start taking the two of you apart!”

 

The Keefers had not counted on taking on this second imposing personage.  With uncomfortable smirks on their faces they began to back away, then turned and moved rapidly down the street.

 

Hoss had made it to his feet and was dusting himself off.    He appeared to be none the worse for wear except for a slight scrape on his cheek where it had contacted the boards of the sidewalk.  He looked after the retreating bullies with a frown on his face.

 

“Shouldn’ta let ‘im catch me like that, dang it!,” he said.

 

“Oh, they were just looking to make trouble and no matter what you did it wouldn’t have made much difference,” Adam tried to reassure him.  Then he noticed the look on his brother’s face.  “Say, you aren’t letting what they said get to you, are you?  I thought you had grown out of that.”

 

“How can I when the ones who say those kind o’ things don’t seem to grow out of it?,” Hoss muttered, not looking directly at his brother.  “Sometimes they still can make me feel like I really am just a big, fat, dumb old ox.”

 

“Don’t do that to yourself, Hoss,” Adam said quietly.  “You know better than that.”

 

“I suppose so,” Hoss replied in a tone that belied his words.  “Come on, Adam.  Let’s get goin’ home.”

 

Together they picked up the box that had been dropped and finished loading the rest of the supplies onto the wagon.  Then they took their places side by side on the seat and headed out of town, much less happily than they had headed in.

 

Hoss hardly said a word on the way home, and he remained unnaturally quiet through the rest of the afternoon and even through dinner.  That caused their father to look at him with concern, and immediately after the meal Ben drew Adam aside to ask him if he knew of anything that might be upsetting his brother.  Adam described briefly what had happened in town, but he tried to reassure his father that it was just a minor incident and that Hoss would soon shake it off.  In truth he was trying to convince himself as well.

 

A little while later, Hoss was sitting in front of the fire staring into it unhappily when Adam approached him suggesting a game of chess.  At first Hoss attempted to decline, a chess game not being exactly what he had on his mind at the moment.  But Adam was persistent.

 

“Come on, Hoss.  What do you say?  Just one game?”

 

“Don’t see why I should.  I never can beat you anyways.”

 

“You never know.  Anything can happen.  You don’t seem to want to do anything else tonight.  Why not this?”

 

Still with some reluctance, Hoss at last gave in.  The board was set up on the low table between the settee and the hearth.  They used a coin toss, which Hoss won, to determine who had the choice of black or white pieces.  Finally, play began with Hoss moving the pawn in front of his king ahead two spaces and Adam responding in kind.

 

A half hour later Adam was glad to see that Hoss had become so wrapped up in the game that he seemed to have forgotten everything else.  In truth, Adam himself had not thought of the earlier events since the game started until the sight of the scrape on his brother’s cheek brought them back to mind.

 

Adam looked down at the board again and, with sudden crystal clarity, he saw the combination of moves that would give him a checkmate.  It was all so simple.  He would begin by moving a knight....  He was about to reach out his hand to pick up the piece when something made him raise his eyes to his brother’s face once more.  And the look there made him pause.  Had he somehow telegraphed to Hoss that he had the winning moves in mind?  Whatever the reason, Adam saw in his brother’s eyes a painful sense of discouragement...and vulnerability.  Adam closed his eyes for a second and took a calming breath.  Then he opened them again and reached out a steady hand...passing over the knight to move the bishop instead.

 

Hoss looked down at the board for a long moment.  Then his expression began to change.  At first a look, almost of disbelief, passed across his face.  It was followed by the beginnings of a slow smile which grew wider and wider until it captured his whole face and put a gleam into his eyes. 

 

“Adam, I think I done got ya this time!,” he declared, rubbing his hands together.  He reached out to move his own knight. 

 

After several more moves by each player in quick succession there was a pause.  Adam examined the position of the pieces for quite some time.  He looked at his brother and then back down at the board.  Then he slowly and deliberately tipped over his king in surrender.

 

Hoss sat back, and his face was aglow with excitement and triumph.

 

“Will ya look at that!  I fin’ly beat ya, Adam!  I really done it!  Maybe I ain’t such a dumb old ox after all!”  He scrambled to his feet.  “I gotta tell Joe about this!  Joe!  Joe!  Where are ya?”  Hoss hurried out the door to find their younger brother, who had gone to play outside after dinner.

 

Adam began to gather up the chess pieces to put them away.  He was interrupted by a voice saying his name.

 

“Adam.”

 

Adam looked over to where his father sat in the blue char by the corner of the fireplace.  “Yes, Pa?”

 

“I saw what happened there.”

 

Adam smiled at him.  “I didn’t realize you were watching us.  Just what do you think you saw?”

 

“You could have won that game.  You had the opportunity.”

 

Adam squared his shoulders.  “Could you be implying that I threw the game?   You can’t possibly believe that I would do that!,” he said with a show of indignation.

 

“To make your brother feel better...I think I can,” Ben replied mildly.

 

Adam shook his head.  “I misplayed my opportunity this time.  And Hoss made all the right moves to take advantage of it.  He deserved to win.”

 

“That may be.  Still, if anyone was to imply that his great victory was anything less than fully earned...it could hurt him badly.”

 

Adam looked directly into his father’s eyes.  “Which is why neither of us is ever going to imply any such thing.  Right, Pa?”

 

“Right, son.  By the way...I’m very proud of you.”

 

“Thanks, Pa”.

 

And father and son smiled at each other in perfect understanding

 

THE END

 

 

 

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