Free Perpetual Check by Rich Wallace Page A

his queen.
    As a defensive ploy, Randy looks casually at another of his pawns, which has been left under attack by the shifting of the knight. Zeke can safely take the pawn with a rook. Randy winces slightly, hoping Zeke will follow his gaze and fail to notice that the bishop can take the white queen.
    But Zeke puts a finger atop the bishop. A familiar, distinct whisper breaks the silence. “That's the one.”
    All eyes turn to Mr. Mansfield, who keeps his gaze firmly focused on the board. Pramod smiles and shakes his head slowly while Serena glares over.
    Zeke frowns as he moves the bishop and takes Randy's queen. The Regional Director tips his head toward his assistant, and they exchange a few barely audible words. Zeke smacks the button on the clock and faces Randy with a sour look.
    Mr. Mansfield's coaching would have had no effect. Zeke had already touched the bishop, so he had to move it anyway. And both boys are far better players than their father, so neither would pay him any attention.
    Randy spends longer than usual pondering his move, since Zeke now has a clear advantage. Randy's been in stickier situations against Zeke and worked his way out, but never with so much on the line.
    Zeke slows the pace as well, but his next several moves are steady and tactical, increasing the likelihood that he'll win.
    Randy's remaining rook is being attacked and is pinned to his bishop, so he knows that he'll be losing another piece. He considers his options for the coming moves, then reaches for the rook.
    “No.”
    Randy lets out his breath in a huff and looks straight up at the ceiling. This time Pramod laughs loud enough for everyone to hear. The Regional Director and his assistant rise from their chairs and walk over to the Mansfield boys.
    Dr. Kerrigan reaches for the clock and stops it.
    Mr. Mansfield has also stood up and has his arms folded tightly. “What's the problem?” he barks.
    The Director turns to Pramod and Serena and says, “Please continue your game.” He motions with his fingers for the three Mansfields to follow him into the hallway.
    “Normally, this would be clear grounds for disqualification,” he says.
    “What would be?” Mr. Mansfield says. “They're
both
my sons.”
    “Yes, I know that. And you appeared to be trying to coach them both.”
    “I wasn't coaching anybody.”
    “You gave direction to both players. Rather fervently the second time.”
    “Like hell I did,” Mr. Mansfield says. “Besides, they're my
kids.”
    “Dad,” Randy says, “can you tone it down?”
    “Shut
up,
Randy!” he shouts. “I'll handle this.”
    “Leave him alone, Dad,” Zeke says. “It's our game, let
us
handle it.”
    “You wanna handle it? Fine. Let's see you handle it.”
    “I was winning the frickin’ match, Dad.”
    “You better have.”
    The Regional Director turns in such a way that he and his assistant and Randy and Zeke form a sort of circle, with Mr. Mansfield on the outside. “What do you boys think about this?” he asks.
    “I think we should just finish the game,” Zeke says.
    Randy nods in agreement. “So do I.”
    The assistant sticks his thumbnail between his top front teeth and makes a clicking sound with his tongue. “Normally, there would be a disqualification.”
    “You guys already said that,” Zeke says.
    “You can't disqualify them both!” Mr. Mansfield says.
    “Yes, we can. The question is, should we?”
    “This is bullshit.”
    “The rules are very clear.”
    “Rules, my ass.”
    Zeke puts his hand firmly on his father's chest. “You're not helping,” he says.
    “Fine.” Mr. Mansfield throws his hands into the air and walks away. “You geniuses figure it out.” They all watch as he walks toward the entrance, lighting a cigarette before he goes out.
    The Director shakes his head and forces a smile. “I'd be willing to abort that game and have you boys start over. But if there's another incident, we'll have to disqualify you both.”
    “We didn't do