Chapter 28 – Chess Circus
Jinny took Gale’s arm and led her over to the silver exhibit, asking, “You still want that thing?”
She practically drooled on the carpet, which he took to mean, Yes. He said, “Well I want that table. Twelve million. That’d look nice in my house. Maybe I call up my friend in Saint Petersburg again, ask him to turn the security system off again for a few minutes.”
Gale nodded, but said, “I’d do it, but not without Gwen, and in case you haven’t noticed, she’s occupied right how with Tommy the stud.”
“I noticed. She hardly even knew we were there.” He paused, looking at the beautiful silver service, then at Gale. “Hey, I got an idea. How ‘bout we give them some real attention?”
Gale said, “Like what?”
Again he took her arm, and this time walked her downstairs, to the cafe, which was full of visitors. When they got there he winked and said in a loud voice, “May I have your attention, please. We have a special event in the museum today. Two grandmaster chess champions are playing upstairs in one of the galleries, and they are playing on a one of a kind, twelve million dollar antique table. If you’d like to see this, please go now.”
People looked at each other and seemed to say, why not, and when they finished their coffees they left and went upstairs. Gale said, “You’re a bad boy, Jinny Blistov.”
In the movement of people leaving the cafe, Jinny grabbed four of the little rotgut wine bottles from the counter, stuck them in his pockets, and walked out with the other visitors. They stopped near the Gershwin piano and each drank two of the bottles, Jinny trying to leave them on top of the plexiglass case but Gale saying, we steal in Charleston but we don’t litter, and made him put them back in his pockets. When they got to the gallery they found fifty people surrounding the small antique table with the two players facing each other across it. Gale saw I had lost a bishop, a rook, and four pawns, while Tommy had lost a rook, both knights, and three pawns. Gale didn’t know playing the game of chess from guys playing with her chest, but things looked about equal to her. Both of us were slumped back in our Chippendales with our legs splayed out towards each other. I was wearing a tight skirt, burgundy with yellow trim at the hem and on the side pockets, and four inch golden silk pumps. Tommy wore a pair of slim fit blue jeans, no socks, and a pair of $600 Pomoni tassel loafers. The twenty-five women in the crowd watched Tommy and the twenty-five men in the crowd watched me. Both of us seemed oblivious to the crowd, knowing it was crunch time in the match, each seeing a line of attack on the other’s king.
I moved first, sensing a winning gambit. Slowly I leaned forward, took hold of the attack piece, lifted it from the board, looked at Tommy, set it down on a new square and let it go, committing myself. Just as slowly, I leaned back in my chair. Immediately Tommy leaned forward, sensing danger, staring at the new position and not at me. After a minute he seemed to relax, leaned back, and then looked at me, almost with a smile creeping onto his face. This was a look I didn’t like, and now I sensed danger from his next move.
We were not using clocks to regulate our moves, and Tommy took a lot of time now, staring at the pieces on the board. The longer he took the more worried I became. What had I missed? My eyes moved from the board to Tommy’s face, then back to the board and back to his face. I closed my eyes, stopped thinking, and let intuition flow into my mind. It came as bidden, and performed. Thirty seconds later I opened my eyes and did what I had to do. First I lifted my right leg and put my foot, ensconced in the beautiful golden pump, on the front edge of the seat of Tommy’s Chippendale, just outside his thigh. He looked down and saw it, and so did all fifty people in the crowd.
And all fifty people, including Gale and Jinny, recognized it for what it was. The twenty-five women smiled simultaneously, nodded at each other and whispered, ‘Go Girl.' The twenty-five men shook their heads, half of them whispering, “Holy shit” and the others whispering, “Now THAT’S a dirty trick.”
I left my foot there for a minute, then lowered it to the floor, brought both legs under me, stood up slowly, and stretched. The Faberge was low, just barely high enough for us to get our legs under it, and when I stood up, the hem of my skirt was above the level of the table. As I stretched with my arms over my head, the hem rose higher, and so did Tommy’s gaze, coming off the board and onto my legs. The women in the crowd smirked and nodded, whispering to each other, “He’s toast,” and the men cringing, whispering to each other, “He’s toast.” Gale whispered to Jinny, “He’s toast,” and he nodded.
I sat down and calmly looked at the board. Tommy looked at my face, tempted to say something but holding back, trying to get his focus back on the board and his move. He knew he had two options for the move, each appearing not only good but devastating, each also hinting at an unrecognized danger he couldn’t place, with consequences he couldn’t envision. Swimming in front of his eyes, alternating with his chess pieces were first the image of my pump and then my upper thigh; his knight and my pump; his rook and my thigh; his queen and my thigh; his bishop and my elegant foot. He shook his head, ambivalent about the images, wanting them and not wanting them, everyone in the crowd, male and female, knowing the gesture was futile. He was toast.
Tommy cracked under the pressure, reaching out and taking hold of a piece, moving it to another square, setting it down.
Most of the people in the crowd were not chess players and didn’t understand, rationally, what Tommy had achieved with the move, but intuitively they knew it was wrong. They started dispersing, moving away from us, the women high-fiving, the men muttering “Cheater” under their breaths. I didn’t bother saying ‘Checkmate.’ Instead I said, “Where do you want to go for lunch?”
Tommy looked at me and said, “Two can play that game.”
Gwenny June's Tommy Crown Affair Page 28
