Chess

Mrs. Watkins cleared the last of the dinner dishes from the dining room table and peered into the parlor. A bright fire crackled in the hearth, throwing its light about the room and casting the exaggerated shadows of the parlor's occupants upon the wall. They had been retiring to that parlor table every night for the past week--the doctor and his son. And the poor child still did not seem to participate willingly in this new evening ritual. He sat across from his father, feet barely brushing the floor, staring anxiously at the board in front of him.

"Dr. Hornblower, sir," she appealed from the dining room. The boy and the man turned towards her in unison. "Don't you think he's still a mite young for that?"

The father waved his hand at her and returned his eyes to the chessboard. "Nonsense, Mrs. Watkins. I was far younger than Horatio when my father taught me the game." The maid did not miss the boy's uneasy shift in his chair at these words. "It's high time that the lad learned it."

Mrs. Watkins shook her head in resignation and went about her work. There was no use arguing with the doctor when he was determined to do something.

Horatio was painfully aware of the differential between the number of captured pieces on either side of the table. It had only been a week since his father had brought the game out. How proud he had been when Father had said he was old enough and bright enough to play! And now, as his few remaining pieces dwindled from the board, Horatio felt he would have given anything to be younger and less intelligent in his father's eyes. He placed his queen in position to strike his father's bishop.

"Are you sure that is where you want to move, son?"

"Yes, sir." His father was not above asking questions in an underhanded effort to dissuade him from making a good move. The interrogation confirmed the strategy in Horatio's mind.

Dr. Hornblower sighed and reached across the table. "Horatio, son..." he started, disappointedly, "you need to pay attention to ALL the pieces." He knocked the queen down and swept it from the board. "To have allowed your QUEEN to be taken by a PAWN...a very poor strategy, my boy."

Horatio gazed, dumbfounded, at the spot where his once tall queen had been. The knobby black pawn that replaced it stood in silent mockery of the foolishness of his previous move. His humiliation was compounded by the realization that his father could have taken the queen just as easily with the bishop, but chose to utilize the lesser piece instead. His brain worked feverishly to discover his next move. A fog seemed to have settled over his thoughts. He grabbed his bishop and disposed of one of his father's last pawns. Happily adding another capture to his pitifully small number of "prisoners", Horatio looked back at the board. A smile crossed his face. "Check!" He announced proudly.

He gazed in gleeful anticipation at his father's face for any sign of nervousness. Instead, Dr. Hornblower calmly moved his king one space to its left. Horatio looked back to the board, certain that he was in the final stages of victory. Once more, he closed his remaining bishop in on what he saw as the doomed monarch.

"You didn't think that time, Horatio..." his father taunted as the formerly threatened king toppled the menacing bishop. "Just because the option of moving the maximum number of spaces is available, doesn't mean that you should take it."

Inhaling deeply, Horatio took stock of his remaining players. A knight, a rook and a king. And what did he have to show for it? A pile of worthless pawns that his father had sacrificed on purpose. The boy cringed. There was no glory in capturing pieces your opponent WANTED you to take. Horatio moved his rook one space forward. Dr. Hornblower studied the situation briefly, then moved his queen across the board. The end was imminent. Horatio swallowed. He reached out and put his hand on his knight. His eyes wandered, unsure, to his father's face.

"Are you looking to your opponent for confirmation, Horatio?" Dr. Hornblower asked sternly. The boy's eyes dropped back to the board. Biting his lip in concentration, Horatio removed his hand from the knight. He hesitated, grabbed once more for the knight, then changed his mind and reached for the rook.

"Make a decision, son. Think first, act second. Always be sure of your move."

Horatio scowled at his father and snatched up the rook decisively, moving horizontally across the board directly opposite his father's king. "Check." There was less enthusiasm in his voice this time.

"You did it again, son." His father chided as his bishop removed the rook.

There was nothing left now but to move his knight. Horatio examined his options and then moved.

Without a word, Dr. Hornblower grabbed his castle and knocked down his son's knight. "And that, my boy," the man said leaning back and crossing his arms contentedly, "is checkmate." Horatio sniffed. Each time they played, he became more and more aware of how much he despised this game. "You played poorly, Horatio," his father continued, "You have more brain than that."

"I'm just learning, Father." His eyes remained focused on his lonely, trapped king that sat pathetically on the board. "It's a difficult game."

"It is less so when you use your head. You were trying to capture the most pieces and you quickly forgot that the object is to capture the king."

Horatio picked up his king and studied it. "I did NOT forget the object." He protested under his breath.

"Then you were distracted from it and so, failed to achieve it." Dr. Hornblower noted the pursed lips of his frustrated son and smiled sympathetically. "You do not like this game, do you, my boy?"

Horatio hesitated. "I'm not sure why you wish me to learn it, sir." He answered noncommittally.

"I want you to learn to think, son." The child seemed, at best, skeptical. "You do not like to lose, do you?"

"No, sir."

"In time, you will win. But you must learn to think beyond the immediate. To consider your options...think about the future consequences to current moves. To know that the most obvious move is not always the best one...and that it may in reality be your worst one. When you have learned THAT, Horatio, then you will be able to win."

The words seemed to the boy's ears to be dripping with reproach. It was humiliating to have to listen to them. But he knew better than to show any outward sign of contempt towards his father. "Yes, sir," was all that he could say in response.

The doctor looked over his son, who sat eyes downcast. "Another game, then?" Reaching across the table, he began to reset the pieces without waiting for an answer.

Horatio inhaled deeply and set his jaw in a resolute scowl. He could not avoid playing the game; as such, he was determined to hasten the day when he would win.

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