What are the games like?
“Chess is easy. It’s this board with squares – “
You don’t have to talk, Chuck interrupted. I can read your mind.
Bob paused, “Can you read – “
Anyone’s mind? Yes.
“Wow.” Bob paused. “What am I thinking – ?”
Right now? You’re wondering if I can tell you what your mother is thinking. I can, but it’s against the rules of the project. If I tell you what anyone else is thinking, I fail.
“Bummer. That would have been cool.” Bob always wondered what grown-ups were thinking. “You want me to think at you? I’d rather just talk.” Bob placed both palms to his forehead and massaged, careful not to dislodge the Kleenex still dangling from his nose. “This is too weird.”
You will get used to it. Try it. Explain chess. Don’t use words.
Bob sat down. He hunched over and breathed deeply. Closing his eyes, he ran his fingers into his hair and pulled the image of a chessboard to the front of his mind. He carefully added each piece starting with the white rooks and ending with the black pawns. Finished, he sat back and relaxed.
See. Easy. You’ll get better at it. You’re still trying to think it the way you would speak it. Here, someday you’ll do it like this. A chess board and its complements abruptly filled Bob’s mind.
Bob laughed, “You didn’t tell me there were shortcuts.”
Sorry. Now you know. Show me how to play.
“Awesome!” Bob grinned, “watch this!” Sitting up straight, he launched his mind into images of his favorite openings and the various counter strategies. He played white. Pawn forward so the bishop can exit. How would Chuck counter? Projecting Chuck’s shimmer on the other side of the board, Bob’s mind exploded into sound and color. Reeling and retching, he fell backwards onto the floor. His chest heaved with effort to comprehend, and he ripped his eyes open. “Chuck,” he coughed, “what just happened?”
Silence. The shimmer flickered in and out of substance. “Chuck! Chuck! Come back! What happened? Chuuuuuuuuuck!”
What did you do? Chuck’s thoughts floated to Bob from a distance. Don’t do it again.
“I tried to see you in my mind. I tried to put your shimmer on the other side of the chess board, and then everything just fell apart. What do you think it was, Chuck? What happened to you?
I was everywhere and all-time, like they said I would be when I Traveled. I was everywhere, but I was concentrating on you. Then you pulled me toward you, out of everywhere. For a second I was nowhere. Then you let go and I am everywhere again, concentrating on you. Just a minute. I’ll ask.
“What? What are you talking about?” asked Bob. “Who are you going to ask?” Emptiness. No shimmer. No thoughts. No Chuck. “Nuts!” Bob lay there looking at the ceiling fan. It circled with his thoughts, always arriving at the same point. “What the crazy is going on?” No answer. Exhausted, his head lolled to the right. The chair he had used to get the comics was on its side, under the light switch. Blood spattered the lower bookshelves, making Bob remember his nose. It didn’t hurt anymore. Comics, his favorite comics, spread helter-skelter, covered in red specks. Of course he had bled on his comics. “Dang it!” he shouted. “I said, WHAT IS GOING ON?”
The door sprang open, hitting the chair. Busy with his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed his mother’s footsteps in the hall.
“Bob? Bobby! Are you Ok? Open the door please. What have you been doing? Why didn’t you answer when I called?”
“Nothing's wrong.” He sat up and pushed the chair away from the door. “I was trying to get my comics when I fell. I got a bloody nose, see?” He slipped the tissue out of his nose for proof. “Then I read for a while. That’s all. I have a headache,” he finished, his voice barely audible. “I feel really weird.”
Mom paused before she responded. “You know what works best when you have a headache, right?” She was worried. He looked pale.
“Yeah.” His tongue labored to form the words. “You always say I’m dehydrated, to get a drink of water and lay down.” He paused. “I don’t need a drink, but I’m going to lie down.” He couldn’t help but notice how closely she watched him. “What?”
“You look really pale, Bobby. Is it just the headache?” she knelt and cradled his head in her arms. She smelled so safe.
Bob opened his mouth to tell her everything. “Yeah,” was all that came out. What if he was crazy? Hadn’t Chuck said he’d be right back? ”It’s just the headache. I’ll be fine.”
Bob’s mom was still worried. “Are you sure?” Standing up, she surveyed his room. “Bob honey, don’t worry about the mess. Just get some rest.” Then her eyes caught something unexpected and she changed her mind. “You know what, Bob? You can get the comics later, but I’ll get the chess right now. You don’t want to lose any of dad’s pieces.” She stepped over to his left and stooped to gather the men, starting, as he had, with the white rook. Working quickly, it didn’t take her long to pack everything away and chivvy him into bed. Bob lay silently dumbfounded. How had it happened? Mom must be really worried. He didn’t even get in trouble. She left, taking the heirloom chess set and closing the door. Bob surged out of bed with the click of the latch. His fingers instantly sought his hair. How had his father’s chess set come to be in his room? And who had set up the pieces?
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