Grandmaster

by David Klass

  The funny thing was that for all Kate’s complaining, she was developing into a ferocious player and was getting closer and closer to beating me. “Watch out,” Dad warned. “The second sibling usually ends up kicking the butt of the first.”

  “Not in this family,” I told him. “My butt remains unkickable.”

  He shot me his all-knowing grandmaster grin, which now flashed playfully in our dining room with some regularity, and whispered: “Sorry, Daniel. It’s only a matter of time. She’s got your number.”

  Don’t get me wrong—Morris Pratzer had not undergone a dramatic transformation since winning the New York tournament. His pants were still too short, his scalp had grown balder, and his potbelly bigger, and during tax season he worked long hours at his accounting firm and came home so weary and detached that some nights he barely said five words to us.

  But three times a week when we had family chess hour he seemed to come alive. We sat down together, with Mom hovering in the background brewing hot cider and doling out cookies.

  Dad didn’t want to play in any more tournaments, and I didn’t push him. But he had rediscovered his love for the game, and he even visited my chess club once to talk about strategy in middle games. We had never had a grandmaster come before, and the club members were very excited. I was a little nervous, but he didn’t try to wiggle his ears or arch his eyebrows. Instead, he stuck to his subject and even showed us some examples from his own old tournament games. Later, he played a simultaneous exhibition against our thirty-four club members and two faculty advisers and whipped us one and all, and my stock among the chess club nerds at having a cool dad rose to new heights.

  Eric Chisolm had gotten into Harvard and was now the sole captain of the Looney Knights. Brad Kinney had been wait-listed at Princeton and had dropped off our chess team to concentrate on his grades and some upcoming national swimming events. He had also started volunteering at a senior citizens center. The rumor at school was that his father had threatened to kick him out if he didn’t shape up. I passed Brad in the halls sometimes, and he nodded but never smiled or said anything friendly. He looked self-contained and angry, and I’m not sure his volunteer work was teaching him anything except to hide his nastiness and bide his time.

  Okay, I’ll be honest—that warm May afternoon when I lost two of four games in chess club, I blundered the last one away on purpose. My opponent seemed to be taking an eternity for each move, and I needed to get out of there fast. “Oh my God, I just dropped my knight. You win,” I said, knocked over my king, and ran for the door.

  I usually do my homework on the trip home, but a light rain had started falling, pattering on the metal ceiling of the school bus, and I couldn’t concentrate. I gave up, stowed my books in my knapsack, and watched the houses get smaller and the yards shrink as we left the estate section behind and neared my own part of town.

  I didn’t go straight home, but rather I hurried to the main intersection of Broad and Elm, where the Public Transit bus from Manhattan stops on its meandering route through Essex County. The rain had slackened to a light drizzle, and I sat on the bench and waited, enjoying the balmy evening as the darkness took hold and the streetlights clicked on. I couldn’t stop glancing at my watch and counting down the minutes.

  Far down Broad Avenue, a large glowworm finally appeared in the distance. Car headlights darted around the bus as it crawled toward me. I stood up from the bench and watched it chug to a stop, and then the doors opened.

  An old woman climbed carefully down the steps, and Liu was right behind her in tight jeans and a black leather jacket. She saw me waiting and smiled. “Jesus, Jersey boy, you do live out in the boonies.”

  I had gotten together with her half a dozen times since the tournament, but always in Manhattan. Now she was on my turf.

  I helped her down the final step and took her shyly in my arms. Each time I saw Liu I felt a little awkward about touching her—half expecting her to pull away—but she never did. I was starting to accept that I had my first girlfriend, and that she actually really liked me. “Thanks for coming,” I told her.

  She leaned into my hug and kissed me softly on the lips. “How long have you been waiting here, you bozo?”

  “Just a minute or two.”

  “Liar,” she said. “You’re soaked. Okay, you wanted me, you got me. Show me the sights.”

  As we walked to my house, I pointed out the pathetic places of interest in my boring town—the elementary school where my mom teaches, the church that had been struck by lightning, the park where a few diehards were playing basketball under the lights, and the house where a murder had occurred seven years ago.

  “Fascinating,” Liu observed with her usual sarcasm. “No wonder out of all the places on earth your parents chose this town.”

  We reached my house and I was aware of how small and shabby it looked, even compared to some of the other homes on our block, but Liu didn’t seem to care at all. “A house is a house,” she said, “and this one seems nice enough.” She marched right in and was soon giving my mom a hug and waving to my sister, who appeared for half a second and returned Liu’s wave before disappearing back into her room.

  “So, this is what he got for all his trouble,” Liu said, walking over to our mantel and inspecting the large trophy that gleamed above the fireplace. It was inscribed with the date and name of the tournament and the words: GRANDMASTER MORRIS PRATZER—FIRST PLACE, and there was a silver figure of a chess player raising both hands in triumph, a bishop clenched in one fist and a knight in the other. “I’m surprised he keeps it out here in public.”

  “Actually, I wanted to stow it in the garage, but they insisted,” Dad told her, walking in from the back wearing an apron and wielding a spatula. He had come home early to barbecue burgers on the deck—a very rare event for a weekday. “How do you like your burger?” he asked Liu. “And how’s your mom?”

  “Rare and great,” Liu told him, giving him a fond hug. “She’s taken up the tango and having a ball with it. She sends you her best.”

  “Tell her hello back and that I’m still recovering from her karaoke party,” Dad said with a grin, and headed back outside to check his barbecue.

  We gobbled down all of Dad’s burgers in record time, with french fries and salad. Mom had baked an apple pie and served it with vanilla ice cream. She kept smiling at Liu, and I could tell how much she liked her. “So how is your band going?” my mom asked Liu as we dug into the dessert.

  “Great,” Liu said. “We’re playing a summer concert in Riverside Park in June. It’s gonna be a battle of the bands—there will be three other bands playing and food and dancing on the grass. I’m hoping Daniel can come.” She glanced at Kate. “Maybe you’d like to come, too?”

  Kate looked torn for a long second. She normally makes fun of everything I do and wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with me or any of my friends. But I could tell that a trip to a Manhattan concert tempted her. “I guess I’ll tag along,” she finally muttered.

  After dinner Liu and I headed to the town rec center. “So how’s Britney?” she asked me as we trudged through the dark streets, still damp from the rain.

  “Good,” I told her. “She’s got a new boyfriend. A junior. Willie Magee. Model handsome. Captain of the wrestling team. He’s also a real good guy.”

  “That didn’t take her long,” Liu noted.

  “You had to figure it wouldn’t,” I said.

  We heard the pounding music then, two blocks away, and saw the lights. “Wow,” Liu said. “This is happening.”

  “Trust me,” I told her. “I’ll take you to all the best spots.”

  We walked inside the old wooden recreation center and rented skates, and I could tell right away that I had finally found something Liu wasn’t good at. She kept her hands out for balance and penguin-walked over to the side wall. The music boomed and the whirling colored lights strobed her face and made her look disoriented and even a little scared. “First time on skates?” I a
sked.

  “I’ll get the hang of it and toast you in no time,” she promised.

  “I’m sure you will,” I said. Then I skated away from her and did a fast lap, zigzagging as I approached her and stopping on a dime. “Two years of rec hockey,” I said.

  She stuck out her tongue at me. “Show-off. In New York we have better ways of spending our time. But this can’t be so hard.” She pushed off the wall and went for it, and fell right on her butt.

  I skated over and held out my hands. “Nice technique.”

  “Laugh at me and you’re dead meat,” she warned, taking my hands. But she pulled a little too hard, and I ended up losing my balance and toppling over next to her.

  “Hey,” I said, “that’s not even legal in hockey.”

  “Serves you right,” she said. “Let’s stay down here a minute, Dan.”

  So I sat down on the polished wooden floor next to her and put my arms around her a little protectively as skaters circled past us. Some of them were kids I had gone to elementary and middle school with. A few of them waved as they whirled by. Then there were older couples, and tots wearing bike helmets. Liu watched them also, and then looked into my eyes and whispered: “Hey, Patzer-face, where the hell have you brought me?”

  “Skating night is the big event here,” I told her. “And I’m a class B player now, soon to be a starting travel team member of the Looney Knights.”

  “Is that supposed to impress me?”

  I held her a little tighter. “Also, I did something my father the grandmaster never did—I met a nice girl at a chess tournament.”

  “You get no credit for that. I picked you out,” Liu told me.

  “You did? But you were so rude to me…”

  “I didn’t like you at first,” she admitted.

  “What made you change your mind?” I wanted to know. “It wasn’t my chess playing…?”

  “No,” she said. “At first you seemed like just a nice dork, but then I saw you had some unexpected levels.”

  “Like a basement and an attic?” I probed.

  She laughed. “I liked your relationship with your father,” she told me. “It was complicated but sweet. Now be quiet. This is one of my favorites.” A slow love song had come on, and she half closed her eyes and started to sing along to the words.

  I held her in my arms, and for the first time I didn’t feel shy or expect her to pull away.

  ALSO BY DAVID KLASS

  California Blue

  Danger Zone

  Screen Test

  You Don’t Know Me

  Home of the Braves

  Dark Angel

  Firestorm

  Whirlwind

  Timelock

  Stuck on Earth

  Second Impact

  Farrar Straus Giroux Books for Young Readers

  175 Fifth Avenue, New York 10010

  Text copyright © 2014 by David Klass

  All rights reserved

  First hardcover edition, 2014

  eBook edition, February 2014

  macteenbooks.com

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Klass, David.

  Grandmaster / David Klass. — First edition.

  pages cm

  Summary: “A father-son chess tournament reveals the dark side of the game.”—Provided by publisher.

  ISBN 978-0-374-32771-2 (hardback)

  ISBN 978-0-374-32777-4 (e-book)

  [1. Chess—Fiction. 2. Fathers and sons—Fiction. 3. New York (N.Y.)—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.K67813Gr 2014

  [Fic]—dc23

  2013022075

  eISBN 9780374327774