Page 74 of Double Shot
“Indeed, sheisa queen,” Conan said with a polite nod.
“You be white, white boy,” Hal said, and I snorted. Conan grinned, inclined his head, and started to set up the pieces the other way around, making himself white and Hal black.
They chatted amicably, Conan very patient with Hal’s tics and sudden outbursts. Waiting until Hal had his fill and gave the instruction to begin. I could tell that he had experience with this sort of thing.
“White goes first,” Hal told him and Conan smiled again.
“Right you are.” He hit the switch to reset the clock and then pressed the switch to start it before moving one of his pawns.
Watching Conan play Hal was a treat. The two of them trading off in swift and efficient movements, the small crowd of onlookers silent. The only thing that you honestly could hear was the rustle of the leaves overhead and the shush of the pieces moving across the board punctuated by the click of the switch as they passed the count of the clock between them.
“Bollocks,” Conan finally muttered as Hal put him in check.
“Check,” Hal said and rocked harder and faster. He was excited, Conan was providing him a challenge and Hal rarely, if ever, got one of those. Itdidhappen, just not very often.
They both went back and forth faster than ever, Hal would move a piece, hit the clock, then Conan would move a piece almost faster than you could blink and touch the clock even faster. I couldn’t precisely follow what was going on when it came to the board but several moves and Hal hesitated. He rocked to and fro and his face lit up more excited than I’d ever seen it. He moved, hit the clock, Conan grinned, moved his white queen and declared, “Check and mate, sir.”
The small crowd sucked in its collective breath and held it as Hal’s eyes bounced over the board and then Hal smiled. It was a beautiful thing to behold, and he stood up fiercely and declared, “You win, white boy.”
The crowd applauded, and I smiled and stood slowly.
“You take care of my girl, now,” Hal said and held out his hand. Roan stood and shook it and Hal declared, “She’s a queen, don’t forget.”
“That she is, mate, and I won’t forget,” Conan replied and he held out his hand for mine.
“He’s not bad,” he told me as I tucked myself into Conan’s side, our bag of books around my wrist. I’d held them while Conan had played.
“Oh, I know,” I said with a proud smile.
“First time I’ve been beat this year,” Hal muttered to himself. “He’s a good one, mister red knight, Golly.” He looked up, his eyes sliding over us and he called, “Who’s next?”
“That’s our cue,” I murmured and Conan and I took our leave.
“He’s an interesting fellow,” Conan declared as we crossed the park.
“He is,” I agreed. “Paranoid schizophrenic,” I said. “Chess and the streets are his home. There’s no real ‘helping’ him. He doesn’t want a roof, they come with rules and he doesn’t like taking medications,” I explained. “Sometimes, the best you can do is provide a meal and some company.”
“He is a good friend to you?” Conan asked.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Taught me a lot of what I needed to know for basic survival. Where to scrounge for food, where to find medical care, when it was a good idea to get some different clothes… even kept a couple toughs away from me once. Took a pretty hard beating for it.”
“Good man.” Conan nodded and something was percolating in the back of my brain.
“A very good man,” I agreed.
We reached the manse on Phoenician Boulevard and let ourselves in. Kyle wasn’t back yet, and I sort of itched from the sweat from my run and the smell from poor Hal had seeped into my clothes.
“I’m going to shower, baby,” I said and Conan nodded, sliding the bag of our purchased books onto the wine bar’s counter outside the dining room on the way into the kitchen.
“I’ll put the kettle on,” he said, and I smiled.
“Tea sounds lovely,” I said, and he winked at me.
“Doesn’t it just?”
I showered quickly and efficiently, drying my hair and opening the wardrobe in my dressing room pulled down one of the silk dresses Conan favored back at Bootlegger Head. I hadn’t worn one for him in a while and I slipped it on.
While it felt good against my skin it felt… I don’t know, dated? Like an old skin that while the dress was flawless and fit true to size and perfectly, at the same time it didn’t feel like it fit anymore.
