The window reveals the glow of the moon reflecting across the
waters, painting streaks of pearly silver. The blanket of velvet is broken
above. A flock of seagulls can be heard, fishing for their evening feast.
The wooden figurines are
scattered across the table.
The room is empty, save for the man in front of me. He smells of a
unique combination of musky cologne and the faint scent of coconut. Hazel eyes
peep forth from his spectacles, and his face remains in deliberation.
I pine for the forgotten days
of my youth, my mother’s roots stretching into the honeyed soil along the banks
of the stream, nestled amidst the chorus of birds and the perfumes of wild
strawberries and blackberry blossoms. Like a dandelion amidst a field of
lavender, I feel as though I am seen as an unwanted thistle amidst a row of
roses.
Leaning on the table, we peer over sixty-four squares, their black
and white colors blurring into milky opal. I rub my sore eyes, stretch my
aching arms, and let out a quiet yawn. Visions of checkmate bombard my mind.
Look too quickly and you
might miss me. Think too slowly and you might miss me. Who am I that someone
would notice me, small and simple as I am?
My feet can feel the ground sway gently to the rhythm of the waves
crashing quietly against the hull of the vessel. I feel small on this ship. I
miss home. Why am I even here, bound for America? A floating palace of dreams
and dreams gone by. I have to accept that we are immigrants, now.
I am slid across the
checkered ground.
He counters, gently, his hands moving his own wooden figures in a
waltz. Listen, he seems to tell me. Don’t just think. Think ahead.
My eyes flit left in the
direction of my compatriots. Most of them preoccupy their minds with visions of
skewering his king and forking his rooks. Their eyes, fixed ahead to the other
side, seem like pools of pride and vengeance. I feel alone. Yet the one in
armor, the knight, nods at me, acknowledging my presence. I remember his words.
Like organs in a body, we
must work and function as an entity of one. Dare we envy one another? Dare we
compete with one another? If we are to find freedom in America, if we are to
start anew from the pains of war left behind in our motherland, let us be
patient, bearing with one another in love. Are we not all members of one body?
Molded from the same, yet each of us unique. Each has a role. Each needs the
other. We are in this together.
Small as we are, we matter.
Just as I reach the border
of the board, the game is nearing the end. I stand, tiptoeing on the edge. What
is beyond? But now, I am neither fearful nor afraid.
My eyes perceive a grin beneath his bearded chin. His fingers
press the clock, the seconds ticking down, the hand swinging like a pendulum,
and yet time stands still. I reach the edge.
I am transformed from a
pawn into a queen. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I am spoken for, part
of a story of mini galaxies, years of happiness and
heartbreak compressed into a few hours over a black-and-white checkered board
decked with wooden figurines.
My grandfather points outside the window. We have arrived.
