The Rules of the Game
		by John Drake
		<Auxil1@aol.com>


	In the park, down by the river, the old men played chess 
early every Sunday morning. Shortly after the sun rose, they made 
their way to the park, worn boxes of chess pieces in one hand, 
boxes of donuts and cups of coffee in the other.
	Wizened and wise, their still-nimble fingers moved to and 
fro across the checkered boards, move and countermove, stroke 
and counterstroke. There was little talk among them, but a sense 
of easy camaraderie persisted anyway, lying lightly over the 
gathering like a warm blanket.
	Off the side, just out from under the blanket, a lean, young 
man sat, playing a game against himself. He was as deliberate as 
they were swift, pondering the ramification of each move at his 
leisure, in silence. 
	The old men tolerated him there, allowed him a moment 
of peace in a life they sensed had need of some peace, but they 
did not invite him to join them. The young man didn't seem to mind. 
He kept about his game, in solitude.
	The morning stretched on, slow and steady, growing warmer 
and a little more humid as it did. The occasional passerby stopped to 
look on at the old men and their games, before moving on into the 
morning. A tall man, however, lingered, not looking at the speed 
games of the small group, but watching the young man play all by 
himself.
	Matthew Crower lifted his black rook, sliding it across the 
board, until it touched the white knight. But he didn't knock the 
knight over, and he didn't take his hand away from the piece.
Instead, he spoke.
	"Shouldn't you be at church, Lucas?"
	The tall man grinned a wolfish grin and sauntered to the 
table. He looked down at the board. "Seems like you have a 
decision to make, Dr. Crower."
	Matt still didn't look up.
	"I don't expect you to understand the subtleties of chess, 
Lucas," the doctor said in an even tone. "I would think boxing was 
more your style."
	"I've been known to take a whack at both," Lucas replied. 
"Not at the same time, mind you."
	Matt finally looked up, a faint expression of surprise crossing 
his face.
	"You play chess?"
	"Care to try me?"
	The doctor started rearranging the pieces on the board to 
their starting configuration.
	"Do you want to be white or black?" Matt asked, affecting 
an air of innocence.
	"Oh, I guess I'll take black. You'd be disappointed otherwise," 
Lucas responded, staring at the doctor as he set up the board. "That's 
the way you see us, right? White and black."
	"Something like that," Matt replied.
	"Well, you may be right. But you may be wrong too."
	Matt looked up and met Lucas' gaze straight on, but the 
sheriff's face wasn't confrontational. Instead, it was a measured look, 
sizing the doctor up.
	"Always know your opponent, Harvard. First rule of the game."
	Crower turned away, looked to the board. He reached down 
and lifted a pawn, moving it two spaces forward.
	"Shall we begin?" he asked.
	Lucas picked up his queen's knight.
	"Now, I can double-jump you with my horsie, right, Doc? 
Then you king me? In accordance with the rules of the game, right?"
	Matt gave him a pained look.
	Lucas laughed.
	"Just kiddin'"
	He placed the knight down on the table, out and aggressive.
	They traded a few moves, cautiously, slowly sliding the play 
to the center of the table. The old men had noticed the game, and 
some of them had abandoned their own to watch.
	"Don't get to see you play too often these days, Lucas," one 
said softly.
	"Well, I'm a busy man," the sheriff replied. "But I oughta try 
to get out here more often." He made a move, then leaned forward 
to the doctor. "Clears the mind."
	"I agree," Matt replied, and moving his bishop he took one 
of Buck's forward pawns.
	"First blood," Lucas crowed. "Very aggressive. Didn't know 
you had it in you."
He moved. A few more turns were exchanged, and Matt found 
himself retreating. 
	"Aggressive isn't always the way to go," the sheriff said. "Not 
when you're dealing with a wily bastard like me. But then I guess you 
know that now."
	"I had a long time to think about it," Matt said, maintaining an 
even tone. "I'll do better in the future."
	His eyes flittered over the board, looking for his next move, 
playing out potential strategies.
"Why is it that you hate me so much, Dr. Crower?"
	Matt looked up.
	"You really have to ask?"
	"I really do," Lucas replied, his voice still amiable.
	"We're on opposite sides of the fence," Matt said.
	"Are we really? Is what we do so very different?"
	"I think so," the doctor said, and he advanced his rook toward 
Lucas' flanking row of pawns.
	"I don't," Lucas said. Barely glancing at the board, he picked 
up his queen's bishop and blocked Matt's rook from any further attack.
	"Think about it, Harvard. We're a lot alike, you and I. Each 
tryin' to do what he thinks is right. Each thinkin' a little too highly of 
himself."
	He leaned into the game again, so far forward that Matt could 
feel Buck's breath on his face. He spoke softly, so that only the doctor 
could hear him.
	"Both playin' God, decidin' who lives and who dies. You do it 
in the operatin' room. I do it out here."
	He pulled back, and made an expansive gesture.
	"The world is my operatin' room."
	Ignoring this, Crower decided on a strategy and made his move.
	The gallery broke into whispered amazement, analyzing the 
choice and its ramifications. Matt had left an opening.
	"Was it a mistake? Or a trap?" one man whispered.
	"When are they going to put the queens into play?" another 
asked. 
	Neither player had moved or advanced on a queen since the 
game had begun, some 20 or 30 moves ago.
	The bustle died down, and a noisy gaggle of children came 
down a nearby path, laughing and playing. Two little girls, a brunette 
and a blonde, were taking turns with a jump-rope. Their songs drifted 
over the table like a breeze.
	"I work to save lives, Lucas. Not to take them. Not to own 
them."
	Lucas kept his eyes fixed on the doctor, as he reached down 
to the board and brought his rook forward.
	"Same thing, Doc. Same thing."
	The gallery was alive again, in constant analysis of Lucas' bold 
step into the hole Matt had left on the board. All the other games had 
ceased now; all the old men had formed a ring around the two. They 
seemed oblivious to the conversation, but they were enraptured with 
the game. In the last several moves, the sedate game had become 
much more interesting, full of possibilities. Only the one pawn had 
been captured thus far, but Buck's acceptance of the doctor's 
challenge had thrown open a world of potential conflict. Pieces 
would start to fall soon, the old men agreed among themselves. A 
bloodbath could ensue at any moment.
	"Take this game," Lucas said. "You play just like I do, sneaky 
and vicious. You've spent all this time settin' your trap, calculatin' the 
angles, figurin' the odds I was gonna go for it. Well, now I did. I know 
what I would do next. What about you?"
	Matt took up his king's knight, lifted it and held it above the 
space he wanted to occupy, hesitating.
	"Let's make this interestin', shall we?" Lucas drawled.
	Crower looked up, suspicious.
	"What do you mean?"
	"See those two little girls over there?" Lucas said, waving at 
the blonde and the brunette with the jump-rope. "The dark haired girl
 is the black queen. The blonde is the white queen."
	Matt looked over at the two.
	"As go the queens," Lucas said, "so go the girls."
	The doctor turned back in horror.
	"You can't mean..."'
	"I do."
	"I won't play you. Not like that."
	"You forfeit, then you forfeit your queen."
	Crower looked sick, dropped his gaze down to the board. 
"You can't do this to me. I won't be a part of your stupid games."
	"You agreed to play with me, Doctor. There's a price for that. 
You have to play in accordance with the rules of my game."
	"You never said..."
	"I said, 'Know your opponent.' You said you knew me. Now 
take your move, or forfeit the game."
	The doctor's face took on a grim cast. But he set himself to the 
task. He placed his knight back where it had been. The trap he had set 
for Lucas would have snared his queen, and that was no longer an 
option. After a long pause, he instead maneuvered his bishop to force 
Buck's rook back from its advance. 
	Lucas retreated. The crowd murmured in consternation, their 
expectations foiled. 
	After a couple of moves conferring no immediate advantage 
on either player, Lucas brought out his queen. 
	It was a cautious move, but challenging; it meant the game 
was going to heat up.
	Matt didn't flinch. It was what he had been expecting, and he 
was ready. He started a series of moves designed to create a passive 
barrier between the black queen and his king. The sheriff didn't 
immediately attack that barricade, instead maneuvering his rooks and 
knights forward into the holes in Matt's defense.
	Crower felt a cold chill, despite the warm midmorning sun. He 
was going to lose the game. And he was going to lose his queen along 
the way.
	"You know what they say about the best defense, Harvard," 
Lucas scoffed. "I don't think you have the stomach for a man's game 
like chess."
	The doctor looked up at his opponent, and the color returned 
to his cheeks. Just a hint of anger, tightly controlled, flashed in his eye. 
	"You should spend less time on pithy quips and more time on 
strategy, Lucas," he said with a strange smile, and from the corner of 
the board, he brought his queen's bishop into play, a sweeping move 
that electrified the old men watching. 
	"Brilliant," whispered one. "Insane," muttered another. 
"Necessary," said a third, the oldest of the old men there, who had 
seen more games played out than any of the rest.
	Lucas just grinned.
	"Look like you got a little more spunk than I gave you credit 
for, Doc," he said. And the battle was on.
	As cautious as the game had been so far, it was now 
aggressive, almost reckless. And the pieces started falling.
	Buck's king's bishop was the first to fall; then Matt's king's 
knight. The sheriff's king's knight, then the doctor's queen's rook. Matt 
took black's remaining bishop, then Lucas took one of Matt's in 
response. Several pawns dropped then, on both sides, until only three 
were left -- two black and one white. 
	The singing of the two girls playing jump-rope floated around 
the table all the while, lending an almost surreal tinge to the game. The 
old men critiqued and commended, gasped in horror and hummed with 
admiration. 
	It was a battle of equals, each man with his particular strengths 
and weaknesses. Lucas mercilessly punched holes in the elaborate 
formations that Matt created, while constantly forced to reposition 
himself in response to the threats those formations presented.
	More pieces fell. Finally, all that remained for white were the 
king and queen, a rook, a knight and a pawn. But black still held its
 king and queen, two rooks, a knight, two pawns.
	"It's over," an old man whispered. "Sheriff Buck remains the 
undefeated champ," another said. 
	"Wait and see," said the oldest man.
	With a slight tremor in his hand, Matt took the next move.
	He advanced his queen into Lucas' nest of pieces. There were 
several gasps, and an audible groan from the gallery.
	"Playin' fast and loose, Doc," Lucas muttered.
	"Check," the doctor responded.
	A few tense moves. Lucas backed his king out of danger, then 
circled the doctor's queen. Matt advanced all of his pieces toward 
Lucas' side of the board, one by one. 
	The old men saw an opening. "He could force a stalemate," 
one said. "That would be as good as a win," another said. "No one's 
ever played Lucas to a draw. It's as good as a win," whispered a third.
	But then, once more, Matt dropped his queen into the midst 
of Lucas' cluster of powerful pieces.
	"Check," the doctor said evenly, but a trickle of sweat down 
his cheek betrayed him.
	The sheriff's brow was furrowed, dark and intent. The gallery 
was aghast.
	"He's sacrificing his queen," an old man said. "To no advantage," 
another whispered in shock. "He's given up any chance of a draw now," 
a third pronounced.
	"Wait and see," said the oldest man.
	Lucas looked up at Matt. 
	"Winning is everything, huh, Harvard," he said ominously.
	"That's right," Crower replied in frozen tones. "I won't give you 
the satisfaction."
	The voices of girls singing seemed to swell suddenly in volume.
	"Everthin' has its price," Lucas replied, and sliding his rook into 
place, he knocked over Matt's queen and removed it from the board.
	The singing suddenly softened, reduced by half. 
	Matt didn't take his eyes away from the sheriff's, even for a 
moment.
	The old men were in a frenzy, suddenly astir. "The doctor's 
done it," one said.
	"Checkmate in three for the challenger," another whispered.
	"Lucas Buck finally falls," said a third.
	From further away, a little girl's voice trembled through the din. 
"Kathy? What's wrong, Kathy?"
	Then the doctor took his move.
	The old men stopped their amazed chatter, fell into total silence.
	Lucas raised his eyebrows in shock. Crower wasn't taking the 
checkmate in three. He had made a completely unexpected move.
	Lucas moved a rook across the board.
	"Check," the sheriff said, and there was suspicion in his voice. 
Or perhaps a hint of fear?
The old men were completely silent.
	Matt moved out of check, but again in a totally unexpected 
direction.
	The park fell deathly still. The only voice that could be heard 
was that of the little girl.
	"Kathy? Get up, Kathy! This isn't funny, stop it!"
	Matt's king was deep into Buck's territory on the board. Lucas 
decided to continue to press the advantage the doctor had given him. 
He swung his queen into play.
	"Check," Lucas said.
	The doctor moved his remaining pawn forward one space to 
block the threat. And Lucas Buck's face suddenly turned dark as a 
thundercloud.
	"Checkmate in two," Matt said.
	"No," Lucas growled, and his voice seemed to rumble through 
the whole park.
	The oldest man chuckled in delight. The rest remained totally 
silent, oblivious to anything but the board in front of them. They didn't 
even turn to acknowledge the frightened crying of the girl behind them.
	"Your move," said the doctor, and his tone was triumphant.
	Lucas took the only move the doctor had left for him.
	Matt brought his remaining knight into play, close to Buck's 
king, precariously perched in a spot of safety diagonally between the 
two black rooks.
	"Check," said Matt.
	The sheriff had no choice but to slide his king one space to the 
right.
	Crower moved his pawn forward, to the last row of the board 
on the sheriff's side, the final rank from where the piece could no longer 
move.
	Lucas was quiet.
	The old men were breathless.
	The little girl even stopped crying.
	Stillness.
	Then Matt broke the spell, and spoke.
	"I believe, sheriff, that you owe me my queen back. In 
accordance with the rules of the game."
	Lucas was quiet as he replaced Matt's pawn with the captured 
queen.
	"Kathy!" cried the little girl.
	"What happened?" the other asked.
	"You fainted," said the first, and their voices moved off into the 
distance.
	The old men were silent.
	"Checkmate," Matt said.
	Lucas Buck stared at the board.
	"Why did he do it like that? He had it nailed when he gave up 
his queen," one old man asked the oldest man.
	"Style, pure style," the oldest man laughed, and the crowd 
began to disperse.
	Lucas Buck took a deep breath, and seemed as if he were 
counting to 10. When he finally spoke, it was his usual drawl, a little 
contemptuous, a little amused.
	"You got me, Harvard. Fair and square," he said. "But let me 
ask you this: Why didn't you take the stalemate, the draw? You never 
had to endanger your queen. It was a respectable solution to your 
dilemma."
	Matt looked uncomfortable.
	"I wanted to win," he said.
	"Were you absolutely, positively certain that little stunt was 
going to work?" Lucas asked. "Gettin' your queen back?"
	"Absolutely," Crower replied. "Positively."
	The sheriff stared deep into the doctor's eyes. Matt held his 
stare for as long as he could, before finally looking away. The doctor 
got up to leave, a queasy look on his face.
	Lucas Buck broke into a big smile. With a wave of his hand, 
he cleared the board.
	"Don't go! Let's play again," the sheriff chuckled. "You be 
black this time."


			THE END