The Match

“Your move, buster,” my Dad said looking at the chess board.

He hit the timer to switch it to me. We were sitting at the island in our kitchen. He’d recently suggested chess as a father/son bonding thing. Turns out it worked, as we both like the game and I heard some stories about my mother and Aunt Sylvia that were hair raising to say the least. Apparently they had quite the raucous bit of fun back in the day.

I eyed the board carefully. I could have sworn my king was not where it currently sat. I studied Dad’s face. I would not want to play poker with him. He betrayed nothing. If he saw the issue, I had no way to know.

“Tick tock goes the clock,” he said, tapping his Fitbit.

I swallowed. My king’s placement was not ideal. Was I losing my mind? Why would I ever leave the king exposed like that? I moved my bishop to block. I was running low on pawns.

Dad licked his lips and quickly moved his rook. Damn. If he moved fast, that meant he was up to something. Then I saw his expression shift. Something caught him off guard. He quickly schooled his features back into a blank, placid mask. I stared at the board. Had he noticed my regal blunder? Had he made one of his own? I ran the scenarios through my mind like I was the star of the Queen’s Gambit.

His knight was a sitting duck for my queen. It was not like him to do that. He was a good player and even won a few tournaments when he was 15 like me. I wanted to do that too, but I had to do better with my king. I still couldn’t fathom how that happened.

He pointed his finger at the board.

“Jake, what’s that?”

I followed his finger.

“My rook.”

“It wasn’t there earlier. You moved your bishop. You can’t move two pieces.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then how did it get there?” He asked, looking me right in the eye.

My jaw worked like a fish trying to breathe. He was tacitly accusing me of cheating, but I know for a fact I did nothing of the sort. I looked at the board.

“I could ask you the same thing about your queen. She wasn’t there. You moved your rook, but not the queen.
How’d your queen end up there?”

It was his turn to look stunned.

“I would never,” he said.

“Me either. You didn’t raise a cheater.”

“I..uh.” he was stymied.

“Move it back,” I said.

“Ditto.”

We each moved our pieces back.

“I must be losing my mind,” he muttered.

“I’ll make sure Mom gets you some nursing home brochures.”

“Do that and it’s off to military school with you.”

“Why?”

“Mutually assured destruction,” he replied breezily,

“Besides, I’m only 42. I’m not going senile.”

“Might as well be 142,” I said with a grin.

“Then you’re 15 going on 150.”

We kept playing for a few minutes.

“Your knight,” I said.

“What about it?”

“It was over here.” I said pointing to another square on the board.

His eyebrows scrunched, “What the…?”

“You said you weren’t cheating.”

“I’m not,” he protested, “I don’t need to cheat to beat the likes of you, you rug rat.” He said, but there was an edge.

I kind of believed him. I knew my piece moved on its own. It’s not unreasonable to think his did too.

“Then why did you move two pieces in a turn, you old fogie?”

“I didn’t!” He said, with a little heat in his voice.

“Well, how do you explain that?” I asked, raising my own voice.

He didn’t have an answer. My mother heard us and came into the kitchen.

“What is going on?” she asked, her eyes bouncing back and forth between us.

“He’s cheating!” We both pointed at each other.

“I am not,” we each shouted at the other.

“I don’t want to play this game with you anymore,” I yelled.

“Me either if you’re just going to cheat like that.” He fired back, “I thought I raised you better than that.”

“Vickie!” Mom called out, banging on the kitchen island, “You’d better tell them before they kill each other.”

Vickie is my older sister. She’s a senior and always trying to outsmart everyone around her. It is supremely annoying.

The interior of the kitchen island is just an open space for storage. The door came open and Vickie came out with a wide grin on her face.

“Too easy,” she said.

I thought my father’s head would explode.

“What did you do?” He asked, seething.

She fished a magnet the size of a flashlight out of her pocket.

“It was an experiment for my psychology class.”

“Experiment?” I asked.

“Yes. I was supposed to see what happened when two people playing a game each became convinced the other was cheating. So, I put a magnet under some of your pieces so I could move them. I thought you might catch on, but you never did."

“You knew about this?” My father said to my mother.

“I suspected, but I didn’t know.” my mother responded.

“You two,” Vickie said, laughing, “You should see the looks on your dumb boy faces.”

Dad and I looked at each other.

“So, you weren’t cheating?” He asked.

“I would never.” I said.

“Me either.”

“I don’t need to cheat to beat the likes of you,” I said with a smirk.

“I think we should start this game over,” he said.

I agreed, “At the kitchen table where we can see what’s going on underneath.”