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Chessville
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The Kennedy Kids Mary Elizabeth & Jon
Chess Camp Chess camp! Fresh air, friends, and chess, chess, chess. Fast chess. Slow chess. One-on-one. Teams. Nothing could ruin a week with the nicest players and the best chess teachers in the whole wide world. Except, maybe, having to take your brother along. It certainly wasn't my idea. "I plan to learn the Ruy Lopez," I told Jon. "Run along now, go play some bughouse, and stay out from under foot." "I'm playing against the visiting master in her exhibition this afternoon," he countered. "You can come by and watch me, if you want." Sometimes he thinks he is so smart. The week flew by. Then, somebody thought up the dumb idea of a "mixed doubles" chess game, for the parents to watch. Each team had a boy and a girl on it, and they had to take turns making the moves for their side. Guess who I got stuck with? "A simple game," I told Jon, as we sat down at the board. "Keep it simple and safe." When our opponents opened with 1.d4, I trotted out 1...Nf6. When they responded with 2.c4, Jon played 2...e5.
"What kind of a move is that??" I yelled. "Whose side are you on, anyway?" "It's a gambit," he gulped. "Well," I muttered, as the other team snapped up the pawn with 3.dxe5, "gambit this!" and I threw our knight forward with 3...Ne4.
"It's supposed to go to g4," Jon whispered. "Deal with it," I told him. Unfortunately, he did. He answered 4.a3 with 4...d6. After 5.exd6, I recaptured with the sensible 5...Bd6. But we were a pawn down already. "Five moves up, one pawn down." I groaned. "After 40 moves, we'll be broke and pawnless."
"Ha!" Jon said, as he saw the next move, 6.Nf3. "We've got them right where they want us..." He played 6...Nxf2, and I grasped my head in horror as I watched the piece disappear with 7.Kxf2. Then, I slyly played 7...Bg3+, winning a queen for only two pieces. Jon and I accepted their resignation graciously.
"What a nice game," said Mom, as we walked back to the car. "See what the two of you can do when your decide to cooperate?" "I've played a little chess, myself," said Dad, suspiciously. "That kind of game makes me wonder if maybe you two worked up all that fussing and yelling, just to fool the other kids." "Who, us?" Jon protested, innocently. "Why, Mom, Dad, never in the world," I said. And then I walked over and gave my brother a great, big hug. Index of Fiction at Chessville
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