Free Perpetual Check by Rich Wallace

here?”
    “We're
very
chalant, Dad,” Randy says.
    “Ought to be getting ready, don't you think?”
    “We
are
ready,” Zeke says.
    “Come over here, you two.” He gestures toward the conference room, then turns to his wife. “Where did you park?”
    “In the
parking lot,
Ernie.”
    “Did you lock the doors?”
    “Yes,” she says coldly.
    “Might want to go out and double-check.” He walks away, and the boys follow him past the conference room, into a narrow hallway.
    “Do you think the Knicks stand around with a bunch of girls a few minutes before a play-off game?” he asks. “You think the Giants hang out with the cheerleaders at halftime?”
    Zeke leans against the wall and scowls. Randy looks down at his shoes.
    “It's ten minutes to one,” Mr. Mansfield says. “The party's over. I suggest you get in there and prepare yourselves for battle.”

NINE
Pinned to the Bishop
    Randy swallows hard as he enters the conference room. The folding chairs for spectators have been rearranged in a semicircle facing the two tables, so he'll definitely be in the spotlight now.
    The Regional Director is in the seat farthest from the entrance, shuffling through some papers. He nods to the boys as they enter the room. “Did you get some lunch?” he asks. “Why don't you two take this table”—the one on the left—”and we'll get started in a few minutes.”
    Randy sits. He feels small and young suddenly, about to be a victim of the intimidation factor he's been joking about all morning. He looks at his brother, who's staring out thewindow. Zeke's been decent to him over the past hour or so, but that can't last, and Randy knows it.
    There's too much on the line for that.
    Serena is the next one to enter the room. She takes the seat on the same side of her board as Randy is on his. “Nervous?” she asks.
    “Some.”
    “You look it.”
    “How so?”
    “I don't know,” Serena says. “Pale. How do you describe when a person looks scared? Maybe you just feel it.”
    “You don't look scared.”
    She shrugs. “Maybe I learned how to hide it.”
    Randy takes off his corduroy shirt and hangs it over the back of his chair. He notices that a bruise is starting to develop on his bicep, where his father jabbed him with his thumb earlier.
    “This guy I'm playing against is a prick,” Serena says.
    Randy would usually say the same thing about his brother. Something between them seems to have shifted since yesterday, though. Not much, but a little. “One of us is going to knock him out,” Randy says.
    “Literally,
if I had the chance,” Serena says, smiling wickedly. “But if I can just bump his sorry ass out of the tournament, I'll be happy.”
    The audience now consists of the Mansfield parents, Dina, the Regional Director and his assistant, Lucy Ahada, Jenna McNulty, and Jenna's parents, who arrived minutes before,expecting to watch their daughter in the semifinals and the final.
    Randy, playing white, opens by moving the pawn in front of his king two spaces forward to e4. Zeke brings the pawn in front of his queenside bishop forward just one space and stares across the board until Randy finally meets his eyes.
    Randy knows that Zeke will often make a seemingly careless move early in the game. The strategy is to leave the opponent with a
He must know something I don't know
bewilderment.
    Randy continues on a traditional course and moves a second pawn to the center, one space to the left of his first. Zeke then moves a pawn two spaces forward, setting up a situation where Randy can take that pawn and Zeke would follow by taking Randy's.
    Randy decides that the exchange of pawns won't hurt him, so he takes the bait.
    The brothers move quickly, exchanging a fair amount of material and working the edges of the board more than most experts would recommend. Ten minutes into the game, Randy snares a pawn with one of his knights, then grimaces and fights back a feeling of dread when he realizes that he's about to lose