The White King (18 page)

The ambassador nodded, downed his fourth glass of cherry liqueur, and then he looked again at Mother and asked, "Now what makes you think such a thing?" and Mother told Comrade Ambassador not to be so humble, she knew full well just how important his standing still was, what with his past and his achievements, so this would really be nothing much for him, why, he could sort out much more serious matters if he wanted, and now the ambassador nodded again and said yes, his opportunities were indeed fairly broad, after all, he really could clear up many problems if he wanted to, but it would be best to discuss the details in private, wouldn't it, and he looked at me and said, "Now be a good boy and go to the other room, you'll find a lot of neat stuff in there, including all sorts of games." But then he added that maybe it would be best if he were to take me there himself, the apartment was pretty big after all, and he wouldn't want me getting lost the way he got lost in the jungle back then. Mother now stood up halfway and told Comrade Ambassador not to go troubling himself, this really wasn't at all necessary, I was a smart, big boy, I wouldn't be a nuisance, but by then the ambassador had already sprung out of his chair and was saying that he knew children like the back of his hand, yes, he knew there was nothing more boring to them, nothing they couldn't stand more, than having to listen to adults talk things over, so he really couldn't expect me to endure this when he knew full well that boys my age would rather spend all day playing football or chasing girls, and then he stepped over to me, dug his fingers into my shoulders, and wrested me to my feet and said, "Let's be off, then," and Mother didn't even look at me but just stared down at those crystal shot glasses, so I knew it would be best if I did as I was told, which is why I let the ambassador shove me into the hallway. Before stepping out the door he turned back, looked at Mother, and asked her to excuse him for a few moments, he'd be right back, and he waved a hand toward the bottle and said it would be best if she had herself a bit more of that delicious cherry liqueur in the meantime.

Once he too had left the living room, the ambassador dug his fingers back into my shoulders and shoved me at a good clip down the hallway and then through a smaller room and out to another hallway, and everywhere the walls were full of bone carvings, animal skins, trophies, and stuffed birds, we passed through at least two more rooms and I was just about to ask, "Comrade Ambassador, could it be that you really have three separate toilets, bathrooms, and kitchens?" but then he opened a door and shoved me into a third hallway where Persian rugs hung one beside another all along one wall, and the other wall was covered with pictures, and as we passed through there I noticed that every single one of the photos was of the ambassador with a whole lot of black women and little black kids standing all around him, and I was so surprised that I turned my head and just stared at the pictures, and the ambassador must have noticed, because he said indeed, it wasn't by chance that he claimed to know children, he'd have me know that every one of those kids there on the wall was his, and I wanted to ask him why, if those children were his, they were so black, but then we reached another door, which the ambassador opened and pushed me through but without following me in this time, and while standing there in the doorway he told me to be a good boy and wait there for my mother, I shouldn't touch anything, he said, and above all I'd better not try to steal anything because I'd be sorry if I did, and he said again how well he knew children, he knew they were all nothing but shameless little thieves you couldn't trust for a second, so I'd better be careful because there, where these objects were from, the custom was to poke thieves' eyes out. All I did was nod before the ambassador slammed the door behind him, and as he went down the hall I could hear him still mumbling away about how he knew children inside and out, about how he knew the rascally, thieving sort, and then another door closed behind him and suddenly everything turned silent, I couldn't even hear his steps anymore, and a cold shiver ran down my spine, I sensed that someone was watching me.

At first I was so scared I didn't even dare to move, but then I figured that this could only be on account of the trophies, so I finally did turn around, which just made things worse though, because I now saw that one of the walls, from the ceiling almost all the way to the floor, was covered with skulls and human heads nailed to wooden boards, but when I went closer I realized that these weren't really human heads after all, but chimpanzee, gibbon, and gorilla heads, and that not even the skulls were entirely authentic, that each of them had only one or two real bones in it and the rest was filled out by plaster of Paris, and each one had a little drawing next to it that showed how it would have looked as the real head of a monkey or other ape or prehistoric human, and every one had its Latin name next to it, but I didn't read the words, no, that chill down my spine wouldn't go away, I still felt like I was being watched, and then I turned back around and saw that there really was someone there, sitting in the opposite corner of the room at a little table with a chessboard on top, a chessboard with the pieces all laid out, and that this someone was, in fact, staring right at me.

A thin old black man sat there at the far side of the table, watching what I was up to, and even though I was a little scared at first, in no time I said, "How do you do," not that he said anything back, he just waved a hand for me to go closer, and so I did, and still he didn't say a thing, he only pointed at the chessboard. "Thank you," I said, "but I don't like to play chess," and again he gestured for me to go closer, and he pointed at the chessboard one more time, so I did then sit down in the chair across from him at the table, the chair creaked as I did so, and in that instant the black man reached out a hand and took the pawn in front of his white king and pushed it two squares ahead, and then he also placed the pawn in front of his queen, but by one square only, and I felt like saying that I should have the white pieces and he the black ones, he was the black man after all, but then I didn't say it, instead I moved with both of my knights so they ended up almost next to each other, with just two empty spaces between them, an opening move my grandfather taught me so one day I might use it to my advantage, and as soon as I let go of the second knight, the black man stepped his bishop forward on the queen's side, and as he moved his hand I heard something creak in him. I stood up to get a better look at the man, which is when I noticed that it wasn't a living person I was playing chess with but a robot, an automaton, yes, in math class we learned that even as far back as the Middle Ages there were chess-playing automatons, but I never believed it, besides, this one here before me was just like a real person, a very thin, very old black man who even looked up as I stood and then returned his eyes to the chessboard as I got really close to him, looking him over to see how he was made, what was directing his movements, and where his power supply was, and then I even touched his hand to figure out if he was carved of wood, but he wasn't, he was made of real skin, and his hand felt just like a human hand except it was much colder, and as I touched it some more I could feel bones and tendons twitching under the skin, and again I heard that hushed creaking, his joints must have grated as he pulled his hand away and picked up another one of his pieces, a knight, and that's when I noticed for the first time how really special even the chess pieces were, the black ones were carved of ebony and the white ones of ivory, and each one depicted some monster, the white pieces were all skeletons and the black pieces were human-headed demons with animal bodies, and every one held a spear or a sword or a hatchet or a saw-toothed knife in its paw, and the officers wore necklaces and belts of skulls and bones and human ears and human hands, everything was carved to the finest detail, and the face of the white king looked just like the ambassador, and it looked pretty scary.

But I still couldn't tell what made the chess-playing gentleman move, no, even though I looked all over his back, nowhere could I see where any sort of cable or drive belt might have
entered his body, which was dressed in a tattered military uniform except that he was barefoot, and his feet were made like his hands, and he looked very thin and very old, and then it occurred to me that maybe he was moving on his own, that maybe he wasn't an automaton but really was alive, or if not, that he was moving on account of some African witchcraft, and an icy fear came over me and I couldn't even move, but then I took a good look at his thick reed chair and I realized that he got electricity through the legs of that chair, that's what made him move, and when I then gave the chair a careful little kick and it didn't budge, I knew I was right. And then I thought there must be a quiet little electric motor in his belly that was making his joints move through some network of connections, through hydraulics and control cables, such things were possible these days after all, and so I sat back in my chair and made another move, just as a test I put him in check with one of my knights, but of course he noticed right away and captured my knight, with a precise, creaking movement he lifted it up and placed it next to the board, and one after another he kept capturing my pieces no matter what move I made, responding right away every time, not thinking even for a second, and when I offered him my bishop so I could nab his queen, he didn't take the bait, it was like he knew exactly what I was up to, and something must have heated up inside him as his hand creaked along because he began to smell like rancid butter, and his movements seemed to speed up as he kept cornering me and taking more of my pieces, he even held his head a bit differently as if it was all he could do not to laugh, and then, when he captured my second bishop and put me in check, I knew it was all over, that no matter what my next move was, I would be in checkmate in no time, and I looked at the automaton, at that old black man's face, at his dusty gray parched skin, and I knew I wasn't about to let him checkmate me if I could help it, so all at once I snatched the white king off the board, and right away the automaton started reaching out after my hand, but with a slow, squeaking motion much slower than mine, and the automaton let out a loud murmur and looked at me and his eyes seemed to glisten with rage, but for a split second only, and then with a wild, creaky swing of his arm he swept the chess pieces off the table, they went tumbling all over the floor, and then he flung back his head and opened his mouth wide and burst out laughing, and smoke started pouring from his mouth and nose, and I stood up so fast that my chair toppled over, but the white king stayed in my hand, the automaton was still cackling so loud that even the walls and the floor were shaking, and that is when I realized that it wasn't the automaton that was laughing, it was Mother.

Yes, I could now hear clear as day that it was her, Mother was laughing really loud and shouting too, even through all those walls and doors I could hear her saying, "Bravo, Comrade Ambassador, splendid, bravo, splendid, magnificent," and she told him not to be scared, to go ahead and hit her one more time, to go ahead and hit her with all his might, to go ahead and hit her if he thought that by hitting a woman he was more of a man, and then he could go on hitting her until morning, yes indeed, he could go right ahead and feel free to hit her, and even as she shouted she was laughing the whole time, so loudly that, I knew, her tears were flowing too, and by then I'd already opened the door and was running toward Mother's laughter, from one room to the next, down the hallways and through room after room, every room was teeming with objects, with crystal vases, glass fish, porcelain soldiers, shot glasses, and wineglasses that tinkled against each other from Mother's laughter, even the framed maps and photographs and the ivory carvings swayed on the walls, and dried tropical fish, shiny with varnish, quivered on their copper wires in an empty aquarium just as if they were swimming,
which is not to mention the copper bracelets and anklets strung onto leather belts above the doors, yes, they were moving too, along with some bottles up on shelves, bottles filled with a golden liquid and with official-looking seals on them, and every last chandelier was also swinging to and fro, everything was shaking just like in an earthquake, and I was so afraid the trophies would come tumbling off the walls and bury me under them that I just kept running, opening one door after another, heading from one room to the next, and just as I was beginning to think that I would never find Mother, I flung open a door and there I was, back in the living room, and there was Mother, standing on one leg next to one of the leather armchairs, laughing hysterically, the little table was toppled over and the cherry liqueur had spilled all over the zebra skins, oozing among the crystal shot glasses and slivers of glass scattered on the floor, and one of the antelope heads had fallen off the wall, and even that big lion's head had half come off, the ambassador was standing underneath it, clutching it with one hand to keep it from plopping into the puddle of cherry liqueur while he was trying to put his shirt back on using his other hand, and when he saw me he shouted, "So then, finally you're here, it's high time you cleared out of here once and for all, and you'd better take along your whore of a mother with you," and he said he didn't even know why he'd let us into the apartment in the first place when he might have recognized our sort, not even my grandfather was ever worth a piece of flying shit, and it would be best if I just forgot that my father ever existed, never in this stinking life would we ever see him again because he for one could guarantee that my father would rot away right where he was, at the Danube Canal, and my father could thank his lucky stars if he didn't wind up in a reeducation camp, no, we would never see him again. And I felt my heart in my throat, but Mother just went on laughing, and suddenly I couldn't help but crack up too, because this really was hilarious, how the ambassador was standing there in his undershirt beneath that huge open-mouthed lion's head, clutching the trophy's face with one hand and prancing about as he tried pressing it back onto the wall while furiously attempting to stick his other arm back in his sleeve, so it really was impossible not to laugh, and now Mother also looked at me, and I saw that her nose was bleeding and her mascara had run. "Let's get going," she said through her laughter, I put a hand on her shoulder and we left the room, the ambassador was of course still ranting as he stood there under the lion's head, we could hear him even as I opened the dead bolt on the front door to let Mother out ahead of me, but when the door finally slammed shut behind us, we could no longer hear a thing he was shouting, but Mother was still laughing as she told me to give her a hand because one of her heels had broken off, so I let her put an arm around me, and that is how we went back down those four flights of stairs. On reaching the bottom Mother stopped, adjusted her stockings with one hand, and pressed a handkerchief to her face with her other hand even as she continued shaking with laughter, and right then I reached into my pants pocket and squeezed that white king hard. The cold ivory felt smooth in my hand. No one would defeat me in the war game ever again, I knew, because compared with this commander of mine even the most beautifully painted lead soldier was nothing but a cheap little puff of pussy smoke.