Chess Match

Chess Match

 

“Check.”

That sterile hospital smell filled James Graham’s nostrils and made him sick. The only reason he was there was to get as much of the will as he could out of the old man before he croaked. He hated hospitals. If he ever got sick or injured or anything, he’d say no to a hospital and die from his ailments. The frail man across from him had said yes to a hospital two months ago and look at him now; dying half-naked with a piss bucket beside him. James resented the man but only as much as a son could resent his father. In James’ case it was a lot. It wasn’t that his father beat him or treated him poorly or cheated on his mother. No, it wasn’t any of that. In fact, if you were a normal passerby, you’d have thought that James’ father was a model for all others. The reason that James hated his father was because his father would not die. Six years ago, it was found that his father had an inoperable tumor that would kill him in four months. James waited patiently for that day to come but his father kept on living. His father had been in and out of stinking hospitals the whole time, driving James mad. His father had handed over the family business to James but kept his personal wealth to himself. James didn’t know what was in his father’s will but he did not want him giving it away to some bullshit charity. This is why he spent nearly every day of the past six years trying to convince his father to give him the money. All to no avail.

“Rook to A5.” Another thing that James hated: moving the chess pieces for him.

“You’re still in check. You need to move out of it.”

“Don’t tell me what I already know, son. King to D3 then.”

James moved his queen three spaces. “Check. Stop running around and give up.”

“You know I can’t do that, son.” He gave a frail smile, then cough steadily for fifteen seconds. James didn’t even flinch. He was hoping on one of the coughs up would come a lung and it would be done. Nothing.

“Have you talked to Mr. Reynolds lately?” Mr. Reynolds was his father’s attorney; a real stickler who hated James with the same passion James hated his father. Reynolds knew what James was after.

“Not lately.” It was a bold faced lie and James knew it. “Rook to A5.”

A silly move on the old man’s part. James took it with his bishop. The old man was running out of pieces. “I told you to give up.”

“Son, I will never give up. That’s the one thing that you have in common with me, other than blood. You will never give up either. So, take that knowledge,” the beeping of the heart monitor began to increase, “and stop trying to take my money from me.” The old man’s fists balled up as the beeping increased more. “I’m giving it away, James, and keeping you out of my will altogether.” He chuckled softly. “Queen to A8. Checkmate.”