Brenda crave me one of her "She had better" looks and finished eating.
I ate about half of what I ordered. My stomach felt as if I had swallowed a dozen spoonfuls of cement.
"Let's buy a new television set on the way home," Celia suggested, "I know you're going to want to watch the international basketball competition."
Brenda agreed, and we returned to the department store. A salesman volunteered to carry the set out to the car for us. but Brenda let him know in clear and certain terms that we were quite capable of it ourselves. Celia was obviously disappointed and not eager to struggle with it. It wasn't as heavy as it was bulky. and I was sure that the three of us looked very silly trying to get it into the rear seat of the car. We finally had to take it out of the carton. and I was assigned to sit next to it and hold on to it as we drove home.
Brenda and I carried it into the house, and Brenda hooked it up. I watched some television with the two of them before going to my hovel, as I now called it. It really wasn't much more than an afterthought, a shack. The little electric heater didn't do all that much even for so small an area. I worked on my school assignments, which to me seemed behind the work I had already accomplished back in Hickory, and then I went to sleep.
Brenda had made it clear before I left the main house that she wasn't going to be waking me up every morning.
"You're now responsible for yourself," she told me. "You have your car. Get yourself up and at breakfast in time. I don't want to hear about your being late for school," she warned.
Taking on the role of legal guardian made her assume a wholly different demeanor. It amused me how whenever she sounded stern. Celia followed with a laugh or "She'll be fine. Don't frighten her." Whether I liked it or not. I was gaining an ally against my own sister. It irked Brenda, and she chastised Celia about it. but Celia laughed it off and clearly humored her. If I could see it. Brenda surely could. I thought, but Brenda was forgiving when it came to Celia, far more forgiving than she was toward me.
The school day began the way it had ended the day before for me. I was simply not interesting enough or pretty enough to interest any of the boys or the girls. The little curiosity about me that had begun in the afternoon the day before seemed to dissipate like smoke. and I soon felt invisible. It wasn't an uncommon feeling for me. Perhaps because it was comfortable and safe, I accepted it.
At lunch, three of the girls from my English class did invite me to sit with them. They began by firing questions at me like prosecutors. I knew they were searching to discover if there was anything startling about me that they could wave about like the front page of a newspaper among their other friends, but my answers were too bland, too dull. I didn't have much to say about the social life, the boys and girls from Hickory, or the teachers. One girl, Nikki Flynn, had a relative in Hickory and had been there. She described it as Molina." Even the mall was
disappointing to her. Their conversation quickly returned to themselves, and in minutes. I was more like a fly on the wall than someone with them at their table.
For me, the most exciting event of the day was attending the beginners' chess club. About ten minutes after the final bell. I wandered down to a room inside the school library, where I found eight other students and the school's business teacher, a tall, lanky man. Mr. Kaptor. He had stringy, light brown hair and beady eyes under a pair of wire-rim, thick-lensed glasses, but he gave me the best welcome of anyone since I had arrived. The other students were pairing off at the desks. but I noticed a tall, very dark boy with ebony eyes and long ebony hair walking about, studying the boards as the others began to consider their moves. He had a very sharp jaw line and a very tight, strong mouth. When I saw him closer. I saw his long eyelashes and admired his high cheekbones. He wasn't bulky or what Brenda would call buff. but he looked muscular. trim.
"Welcome to the club," Mr. Kaptor said, shaking my hand. "Do you know anything at all about chess?"
"No. sir." I said.
"That's fine: that's fine. It's why we call it beginners' chess club, so don't be discouraged. Take your time, and you'll be surprised at how quickly you can get into it. My student assistant here will start you off. Peter," he called, and the dark-haired, handsome boy turned to us, seeing me for the first time. He was so intense about observing the others that he hadn't noticed my entrance.
He walked over to us.
"This is Peter Smoke," Mr. Kaptor said. "Peter, meet a new prospect. April Taylor. She just entered the school yesterday and chose our club for her extracurricular activity."
Peter stared at me without expression. Then he finally nodded.
"Peter has this cynicism about new entrants." Mr. Kaptor explained. "We get a few even' month who attend one or two sessions and then never return. He hates wasting his time, don't you. Peter?"
"That's right." he said dryly. "What do you know about the game?"
"I know there is a king and queen and knights, but that's about it," I said honestly. "I've just played checkers up until now."
He didn't laugh. I wondered if he was capable of smiling. What kind of a name was Peter Smoke?
"Let's get started." he said. He nodded at a chair. "Sit." I looked at Mr. Kaptor,
"I'll circulate and return shortly, but Peter's terrific at the basics. He's very modest, but he's regional champion," Mr. Kaptor said.
Peter went about setting up a board. and I sat across from him. This was just chess, but my heart was pounding as if I were entering a marathon.
"Okay," he said, looking at the pieces and not at me. "The object of the game is to checkmate your opponent's king. Checkmate occurs when a king is attacked and the king cannot escape capture on the next move. He's trapped. Here's the setup. The rooks begin the game in the corners. The knights, which some people call horses," he said smirking. "are next to the rooks here. The bishops start next to the knights, and then come the king and the queen. Notice that the white queen begins on a white square and the black queen on a black square," he said, lifting each queen to be sure I knew what a queen was. "To begin the game, white moves first and then black, taking turns until checkmate occurs,"
He finally looked up at me. I couldn't help staring at him. "Do you understand so far?"
"Yes." I said. 'But you don't jump pieces like you do in checkers, right?"
"Hardly," he said. "Checkers is a joke compared to chess. Forget you ever played it."
"I didn't play it that much."