checkmate

[from the depths of who really knows where...]

I’d like to relate a story about someone named Luke.

When I went to attend class on Monday, only to find out that the first two of my three classes were cancelled, I found myself sitting outside near the large chess board located near the center of campus.  Imagine this thing measuring around fifteen feet on one side, the plastic pieces standing about knee-high.  There are always casual players about and at least several spectators engrossed in watching.  I’ve taken quite a liking to designating this spot for sitting.

I arrived at school about 30 minutes early, as is typical for me, and headed for that very spot, noticing a game in progress as I approached (also typical).  Sitting down, it occurred to me that there was something quite different about this particular game of chess.  Not different in that the pieces were upside-down or spray-painted green or anything like that, but still, there was something usual about the present game.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Then it hit me: one of the players was not a regular, not even a student of Tarrant County College.  I can usually see the same people in that area at the times in which I choose to sit there.  Luke was not one of those people, and from the look of him, he wasn’t a college student, either.  Looked too young for that.  The story was that he and his mother had attended some concert held earlier on at the campus, when they happened by and saw the board.  Luke, it turns out, is quite a fan of chess.  Naturally, he began challenging college students and even beating most of them.

I watched the end of the game as Luke forced a stalemate when I headed to my 4:30 class, which turned out to be cancelled.  Intrigued, I headed back to the chess board.  I watched as Luke played a few more games, again, winning more than losing, and I thought to myself “what a brain this kid has.”  He’d probably beat me with half of his skill, and (with some conceit) I’m brighter than most people.

It wasn’t necessarily that his playing screamed of skill.  Quite often, Luke would distract himself in between plays by talking with his mother, gazing off into the sky or rearranging the pieces he’d taken by type.  But, once he heard the tell-tale sliding of his opponent moving a piece across the board, the kid would look at the board for no more than five seconds and know exactly what he wanted to do.  His every move was done with an obvious sense of purpose. 

I wouldn’t have a prayer in winning a game of chess with anyone while only paying half-attention.  This was something else.

Oh, did I mention that Luke is four years old?  I’m pretty sure that I didn’t, until just now.  I’d like to repeat that because it bears repeating.  Luke is only four years old, and he’s beating college students at chess.

I knew something was odd when I first walked up.

Eventually, I went to pick up some food, to go, of course, so I could continue watching the kid play.  He didn’t seem to tire of the game very easily and his mother was being more than patient.  On my return, I noticed several more people had joined the crowd of spectators, including a campus cop, who, after Luke’s latest victory, decided he had time for a game as well.

The officer beat Luke, but not without a fight.  At the end of the game, Luke pouted a bit, but at the insistence of his mother, shook the extended hand of the cop who praised him for being such a good player.  The tyke rubbed his eyes for a moment before walking, with that same sense of purpose, up to where I was sitting.  He looked at me, again, with a specific sense of purpose, and pointed his little finger at my chest.

“I want to play you,” he said.

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be frightened, or honored or amused, so I probably mixed them all up and sputtered “um, why me?”

But his mother came to my rescue, telling him that it was really time for them to go home.  Couldn’t say as I blame her, they’d been there for at least three and a half hours by this time.  As a parting, I told Luke that if he and his mother ever came to visit us at the chess board again and I had time, I would take him up on his challenge.

It’s amazing the way a brain can function, even while encased inside a four year old skull.  I find myself having high hopes for that little guy, almost certain that he has the potential to do great things, not only for himself, for possibly for all of mankind.  Therefore, I offer the following plea to everybody else.

Please, let the forces behind everything that is cruel and unfair….   Please, let the sick and twisted elements of society….   Please, please, please, let the most ridiculous, arrogant and ignorant of all that is “homo sapien….”

 

……LEAVE THAT KID ALONE.

And Luke, may the force continue to be with you.