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CHECKMATE
By Judy Fraher
I stepped outside the salon. What a perfect day, no clouds. I glanced down at my watch. I had a date with Richie that night. I’d better hurry home to get ready. I strode off towards my condo.
I barreled into my kitchen. Tripping over the leg of the kitchen chair, I almost sprawled into the chess set I’d set up on a small table against the far kitchen wall. I picked up the pieces that had fallen, my fingers lovingly rubbing them. My father had taught me chess and I could still hear his words of advice. “Chess is like life, Emmy. Y’all make a wrong move and it will bite you. But you get that second chance and you better use it wisely.”
A siren broke my reverie. I took not two steps towards my window when a pop, pop reverberated from downtown. I spun the handle on the window frame and poked my head out. I spied my neighbor.
“Mrs. Greenwood, what was that?”
Mrs. Greenwood swiveled around. “Nothing for y’all to worry about, dearie. I think it’s those Keller kids playing with fireworks again.” Mrs. Greenwood waggled her fingers then headed back inside.
I shook my head. Those Keller boys! I headed towards my bedroom to get ready for my date.
Bang, bang. Someone pounded on my condo door. I tossed a quick look at the clock. 6:45. Richie’s early! Walking to the door, I peered out the peephole. I glimpsed a broad back and unchained the lock. As I reached for the knob, the door flung open and I stumbled, struggling to stay on my feet. A stranger stood there, brandishing a gun at me.
“Back,” he growled. “Over to your couch.”
I backed up and collapsed on the cushions. I numbly stared at the blood seeping through his shirt.
“Quick,” he snarled, “Use my shirt to bind my wound.”
He swiftly removed his shirt, wincing when it stuck to his wound. My hands trembled as I wrapped the shirt around his arm. I couldn’t help but notice the muscles that rippled along his bare stomach.
His gaze focused on the frames hung above the couch and he sneered. “A little church gal, are you?”
I gazed at my wall. Pictures of me hung proudly. There I was singing in the church choir, graduating from college and one even of me being baptized in Keller Creek Pond.
“I guess you’ve never been to church!” I bristled.
“Hmmph.” the intruder choked out. “Sweetie, I’m a preacher’s son.”
He brushed by me and headed to my refrigerator. He rummaged inside, pulled out some leftover fish and a bottle of water. He popped a chunk of fish in his mouth then quickly followed with the water, gulping it down with one guzzle. He belched.
“Emma Jane?” Richie’s voice came through the door and the doorknob rattled.
The intruder startled, whirled, and shot off a round at the door.
“Richie!” I screamed and ran towards the door. I got no further. I was flung against the wall. I whacked my head and slid to the floor, dazed but I could hear Richie’s sneakers pounding down the hall. I rose shakily to my feet, rubbing the back of my head. “Now what?” I whispered.
“Now we wait.” He stepped closer to me and I could smell his fish breath. He slid his gun slowly down my neck, lightly resting the muzzle against my chest.
I swallowed nervously. Suddenly he gripped my arm and dragged me to the chessboard.
“Sit,” he demanded pushing me in a chair. He sat down and calmly studied the chessboard but I couldn’t keep quiet.
“A preacher’s son, a chess player, why this?” I waved at the gun.
He picked up a black knight, twirling it in his fingers. He put the chess piece down in front of a queen then he lurched across the board and grabbed my hand. “Do you believe God is good?”
I pulled my hand out of his grasp. “Of course he is!”
He leaned back in his chair. “Some experts believe that God really is a lover of war. Your move.” He motioned towards the chessboard.
I couldn’t concentrate on chess and made a quick move. “He wants us all to fight against evil.” I emphasized the word evil.
“Ah yes. Good versus evil. You ever lose someone you love?”
My eyes welled with tears as I nodded. “Cancer took my daddy.” I whispered.
“And you haven’t forgiven God, have you?” He cleared his throat. “My name is Elijah. My daddy preached about sin, fire and brimstone. His God knew no forgiveness. Neither did my daddy. I got the scars to prove it.”
The night grew a deeper black. The police had arrived hours earlier and were yelling for my intruder to come out with his hands up. The chess game continued in between bouts of Elijah’s life story. He showed no signs of tiredness, even though a clean spot of blood stained his shirt.
Elijah abruptly stood. “I lied church gal.” he muttered.
Chewing on my lip, I was too exhausted to react. I could only stare at him.
“I lied about my daddy. He didn’t preach fire and brimstone. He believed in a good God. But all the other crap is true. Up, you’re coming with me!”
I jerked to my feet. I twisted my hands and shook my head in denial. Then looking down at the chessboard, I mechanically picked up a white pawn and placed it in front of his king. Elijah stood silent, staring at the chessboard. He raised his eyes to mine and a silent challenge passed between us.
Elijah snorted. “Checkmate, church gal. You win!” Laughing, he ran to the condo door, cracked it open, then slipped out.
My body shuddered. Thank you Daddy.
A volley of gunfire split the night air then all was silent. I dissolved in tears and watched them splash down on the squares of the chessboard.
