Awakening

  *

  Kingston spent the rest of the morning explaining how to play the game, the various strategies and counters, and the history of the pieces. For several hours after that, the only words spoken were, “Checkmate!” and “Shall we play again?” At first, Kingston won easily, but, with each game, Barsch grew in experience. Kingston never missed an opportunity to educate the youth sitting across from him, and would explain his moves and Barsch’s mistakes with equal approach.

  As they played, Kingston began to open up, and spoke to Barsch at length about almost everything. Barsch quickly found out that Kingston’s earlier remarks had not been boastful, and that his father truly had passed on a great deal of knowledge to his son. With the addition of the things Kingston had learned later in life, the hermit had amassed a massive mental repository, spanning the width and breadth of science, history and the arts.

  Kingston would flit from one topic to the next, delving into each just long enough to give Barsch a general understanding, but not too much, thereby feeding his growing curiosity, but not sating it. However, at that time, Barsch saw another use for his newfound knowledge. He had noticed that the old man’s playing ability diminished whenever he spoke about a topic he was especially fond of, so Barsch used this to his advantage. Purposefully asking about things that he knew Kingston delighted in explaining, he was able to stealthily capture piece after piece, and had soon amassed a sizeable pile of ivory pieces.

  “Checkmate!” he suddenly cried, stopping Kingston’s energetic explanation of macroeconomics in its tracks.

  “Wha?” replied the old man, his brain still trying to process what had just transpired. When he settled down, he began looking from the board to Barsch’s grinning face with amazement.

  “How did you?” he started, before continuing, “No, a win is a win, no questions asked. I am very impressed m’boy! If I had not seen it myself, I would have thought you lying about never playing before, but this was a victory well earned.”

  Hearing Kingston’s praise, Barsch’s grin quickly faded. “No, Kingston, it’s not like that, I cheated… I distracted you with all my questions, so it wasn’t a fair victory…”

  Kingston leant back and laughed, “Nonsense m’boy! Outsmarting your opponent is the foundation of any tactic, and you even managed to exploit my love of teaching to win! I told you, didn’t I, that every piece has its strengths and weaknesses? Well, the same applies to the players themselves.”

  “But…”

  “Okay, think of it this way: your strength is your capacity for learning, and your weakness is your inexperience. In return, I have years of experience, but I have also grown overconfident due to that experience. By taking advantage of my weakness, you merely levelled the playing field, do you understand?”

  “I guess…” Barsch wanted to point out that he had still won by using underhanded means, but he doubted Kingston would listen to him. Still, his victory felt hollow, and so he made a personal promise to no longer take advantage of Kingston’s talkative nature.

  “Now, how about another round? I may have been going easy on you, just a bit, but that will no longer be the case. You have proven yourself a capable opponent, and it is time I started treating you like one”

  Barsch smiled, knowing that Kingston was trying to give him an opportunity to prove himself without resorting to tricks.

  “You’re on. This time, I’ll leave you speechless!” he exclaimed, reaching for the black king…