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The chess tournament hadn’t even started, and I wanted to go home. I wanted to leave as soon as we stepped foot in Leningrad’s airport. The flight to Shanghai was fine. Mostly. I didn’t like that we had a layover, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. Alexander had told me about it in advance, at least. There weren’t any small children this time. I really didn’t understand why people took children on long flights, but still. There weren’t any, so it was quiet. The only bad parts were landing and taking off. I hated turbulence. Leaving Leningrad was fine. There were only a few bumps, and it wasn’t loud. Landing was another thing. I was half asleep when it happened. I always find it hard to sleep on planes, even when seated by Alexander. So when the first bit of turbulence hit, I jolted awake. It feels silly to admit, but I was convinced that we were going to crash or something important had broken. I must’ve looked ridiculous sitting there with wide eyes, on the verge of hyperventilating (not unlike a fish, in a way). I was twenty-two years old, and I was a Grandmaster, someone that people all over the world looked up to. I should be better than this. But I never was. It was all too much. Alexander was kind enough to let me fidget with his sleeve to calm myself. I didn’t even cry until we had gotten our bags.
I don’t remember much of what it was like in the Shanghai airport. Crowded, mainly. Hot. Loud. I spent most of our time waiting with my knees drawn to my chest, trying to block out everything. Like a child would. Alexander tried his best to calm me down, but I lashed out at him. I didn’t mean to, but I was stressed. I didn’t even do much. Just swore at him. I told him to fuck off and leave me alone . And he did. He didn’t try to talk to me until he told me it was time to leave. I felt bad, but I don’t think he knew that until I apologized to him on the plane. Or maybe he did. He was one of the only people who could really tell what was going on with me. I liked him a lot for that. He was always very nice to me, which just made me feel worse for maybe ruining some part of our relationship.
I didn’t want us to have anything bad going on for the tournament. It’d be bad to let resentment grow for an event as long as this. I didn’t want to spend a month around someone who despised me. It didn’t turn out too well for Mr. Trumper and Ms. Vassy. So, even though I still felt like I couldn’t talk well, I apologized to Alexander. I stumbled through my words, saying I was very sorry for swearing, I just don’t feel well . I must’ve been crying a little because he took my glasses off of me and wiped my face down with the silk handkerchief he kept on him. He told me that it was all going to be okay, Lyonya, you don’t have to worry. Stress makes us act a bit strange sometimes. And I believed him. I still felt embarrassed, but at least I knew he didn’t hate me.
Our second flight was shorter, but it was more uncomfortable. I fell asleep because I was too warm. Even then, it wasn’t good. I had dreams that upset me. That happened every time I was stressed, and I even remember what they were like this time. I’m not going to talk about them though. I don’t think there were children on this flight, but it doesn’t matter. I was going to be miserable either way. Bangkok was so much worse than I had expected. It was humid and hot and somehow worse than Shanghai, and I couldn’t even go sit by myself because as soon as we got our luggage, we were taking a taxi to our hotel. I wanted to go home. It was too late to find a flight that would take me there, but I almost tried. I could afford it. But Alexander had our bags. It was time to go.
Alexander talked to himself for most of the ride to the hotel. He had a lot of things to say. Most of it was discussing our plans for the next few days. He was going to take me around the city and show me where I’d be playing against Anatoly Sergievsky, among other things. He mentioned the possibility of going out to eat but stopped himself short. I don’t know if he forgot to check for restaurants I could eat at or something, but he looked a little embarrassed as he quickly changed the subject. I hoped the hotel had something I could stomach. I was feeling carsick because I hadn’t eaten much, and I wanted fresh air. There was a serious debate in my mind on whether or not it would be worth it or not to just open the door and roll out into oncoming traffic. Anything would be better than being stuck in a small car, I thought, but that would ruin a lot of things if I did. I was here to play chess. I wanted to play chess, and I couldn’t do that if I was in the hospital or worse. I leaned my head against the window and shut my eyes. Alexander’s words faded into a dull buzz as I drifted off. It wasn’t for long. It felt like we arrived at the hotel as soon as I closed my eyes. We grabbed our bags and headed inside. I was glad to be out of the car.
The hotel did serve dinner. It was some sort of soup with shrimp in it. I think it was shrimp. I didn’t really know, nor did I care. I was hungry enough to eat anything. Even if it was spicier than I was used to. It was okay. I did feel more like myself after the first few bites. The texture of some of the ingredients made my skin crawl, but it was better than going hungry. If my mother was here, she’d be proud that I was trying something different. I ate it quickly. I wanted to get to my room and shower and then go to sleep. I had a room to myself this time. When I was still Anatoly Sergievsky’s second, I had to share a room with someone who Alexander said was important. I don’t remember this important person’s name. I think he was from the government. I didn’t pay much attention to whatever political thing was going on, so I don’t remember his name. It doesn’t matter. I was glad to have a room to myself this time. I wasn’t sure if I was capable of spending at least three weeks with someone else in a place like this. At least Merano wasn’t so immediately claustrophobic, even if it was too bright.
Alexander had already checked us in, so I went to my room. The room was fancy, I suppose, but I didn’t care about the quality. As long as the bed was fine, which it appeared to be, then anything else was a bonus. I needed to unpack before I showered. I’m not sure if I would get it done if I waited. I hung my nicer clothes up, and the rest were folded neatly into the dressers. Aside from the pair of underwear and t-shirt I would be wearing to bed, that is. I laid those out on the bed, alongside Misha, my travel companion. He was a small, yellow stuffed dog my father had brought back home from America for me about ten years ago. My father traveled a lot for work and always brought me a gift back. Misha was my favorite gift. He accompanied me on trips since my parents couldn’t most of the time. I was happy he was out of my suitcase now. I gave him a little pat on the head before heading off into the bathroom.
I showered, brushed my teeth, and then headed to bed. I did leave my towel and dirty clothes on the floor, but the exhaustion was really starting to catch up with me. Even turning off the lights after changing was a monumental task. But I had to. I crawled into bed and held Misha close to me. And the moment I shut my eyes, I was asleep.
I was back home again. Everything was fuzzy, but I knew I was home. My mother’s voice rang through the warm silence. Dinner was ready, or so she said. I wasn’t hungry. My eyes were glued to the chessboard. I was playing against my father. He was good, but I was better. I had been better for a long time. But he never minded when he lost. I wished I could be like him. Losses were always personal. I wasn’t going to lose here though, but as soon as I picked up a piece—
I woke up. I had forgotten to close the curtains, so the morning sunshine streamed in through the big window on the other side of the room. I could hear cars driving down the road and the occasional chatter of some birds and the general noise of the city. It was almost pleasant. It would’ve been if I didn’t remember that I wasn’t in Russia.
I wish I hadn’t dreamed about home. About my parents. All I had was Misha, but Misha could only help so much. I hugged him close to me. A sick feeling settled in the middle of my stomach. I wanted to go home. I know that this tournament was important, but I don’t know why they held it in a city so far away. I would have liked to play in Italy again. Or whatever American city I did a blitz tournament in… Anywhere that wasn’t here. I pulled the blanket over my head and screwed my eyes shut. A part of me thought that if I wished hard enough, that I would be back home and not in an unfamiliar city. I wouldn’t have to deal with the press or strangers or crowds or anyone else. There would be no pressure on me since I wouldn’t be part of a “monumental occasion”, as Alexander put it. So much was riding on my victory.
I started to cry. Not like on the plane, where my tears were quiet. These were loud, ugly tears. I buried my face in my pillows to muffle my sobs. I didn’t want to be important. I didn’t want to play against Anatoly Sergievsky because it was going to be the most widely publicized tournament of my career. All for stupid political reasons. I quickly grew angry. I was angry at Sergievsky for defecting. I was content with being his second. I would have considered him a friend if it wasn’t for that. Alexander called him a traitor to our country. He wasn’t just that— he had also betrayed me . All for what? Ms. Vassy seemed like a perfectly fine woman, but Sergievsky was already married. I didn’t understand how he could stab his country and his friends in the back like that. Not to mention his wife…
But my anger towards Sergievsky quickly turned into anger towards myself. I really had no reason to be acting like this. I should be excited to be here. I shouldn’t be crying like a child over missing my parents or not being somewhere familiar. I scolded myself for this over and over, which didn’t help, ultimately. I hated knowing that I was acting strangely and couldn’t stop it. I would just have to cry myself back to sleep. Maybe I’d feel better then.
But I didn’t get the chance to do that. There was a knock at my door almost as soon as the thought crossed my mind. “Leonid? Are you awake?”
It was Alexander, of course. I didn’t answer. I hoped he’d go away. I kept my face buried underneath my pillows so he couldn’t hear me. He knocked again. “They’re serving breakfast. I don’t want you to miss it.”
I still didn’t answer. I heard the door open. Wishing with all my might didn’t work as well as I had expected. Alexander sighed, I think, and sat on the edge of the bed near my legs. I felt the bed dip a little, and even from my self-made cocoon, I could tell he was trying his best not to touch me. I appreciated it. I was still breathing raggedly, which I’m sure concerned Alexander. I could almost picture the look on his face. I’ve seen it so many times that I always felt a bit bad every time he looked like that. It was always because of me. Because I’ve been so difficult. I was very lucky that Alexander was more patient than anyone else I’ve worked with. I don’t know what I would do if he got tired of this.
“I’m going to move these blankets, Lyonya,” he said, as if I was in a position to stop him. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I made a quiet noise to show I heard him. He peeled back the blankets slowly to let me adjust to the light in the room. I was still hiding my face with the pillows, so he couldn’t see how bad I looked quite yet.
He moved those too. The only one that was left was the one I was laying on. I blinked a few times. I forced myself to sit up, but I didn’t look at him. I stared at my lap and wrung my hands together. I felt like I was about to be scolded by him. I would have deserved it. I was an adult. It really was ridiculous for me to have this sort of reaction. But that scolding never came. Instead, Alexander spoke gently to me.
“Are you homesick?”
I nodded. I noticed Misha had fallen off the side of the bed somehow, so I picked him up and set him in my lap. I glanced up at Alexander. He was already dressed for the day. I was right about his expression. He was clearly trying to come up with something to say that wouldn’t upset me. I know him too well.
“We can arrange something so you can talk to your parents eventually. We have things to do today, though… Come to breakfast. They have things you’ll like.”
“I don’t want to.”
That was a partial lie. I wanted to eat, but I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to do much of anything that required leaving my room. Alexander sighed again, but I don’t think he was annoyed. His annoyed sighs sounded different.
“I know, Lyonya. But if you want to play chess, you can’t stay here forever.” He paused. “You do want to play chess, right?”
“…Yes.”
That had never changed. I suppose Alexander had a point, but my will to stay put was stronger than my will to go out and play in a strange, new place. Alexander moved to put his hand on my shoulder but stopped. I moved it there for him and kept my hand on top of his. I felt like I should make eye contact with him, but I was already uncomfortable enough. I looked at our hands instead.
“That’s what I thought,” Alexander said, squeezing my shoulder. It was a nice gesture. “How about we make a deal?”
“Okay. What is it.”
“After you clean up and eat something, I’ll play a few games with you. Then we’ll go look at where the competition is being held. You’ll have the whole afternoon to yourself if things go well.”
It sounded a bit bothersome, but it wasn’t a bad deal at all. I liked playing against Alexander. He was one of the only people who really challenged me aside from Sergievsky. I nodded again.
“I want to practice more after we’re done,” I said. “When we’re back here, I mean.”
“Of course!” Alexander smiled. “I don’t plan on giving you an easy time, you know. Not that it matters when you always kick my ass!”
He laughed, and my lips curled into a small smile. Just for a moment. I still wasn’t fully convinced today was going to be a good day, but it wasn’t going to be an awful day. Being optimistic, it could be an alright day. I guess I’d have to see. Alexander squeezed my shoulder again, then stood up. He looked like he wanted to say something, so I waited until he spoke to do anything.
“Do you want me to wait outside?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied as I stood up. I wobbled a bit since I was dizzy from crying.
“How long will you be?”
“Ten minutes at most.”
Alexander left and shut the door. I washed my face, but I didn’t bother getting dressed aside from putting pajama pants on. I was going to brush my teeth after breakfast and get dressed after that. While rummaging around in one of my bags for my hairbrush (I had forgotten to take it out the night before), my hand hit something else. I pulled out a Walkman and the accompanying tapes. In the chaos of the past few days, I had forgotten I had even taken these on this trip. They were a gift of sorts from Alexander while I was doing a tournament in London. He said that if I won, he’d buy me anything I wanted within reason. I had developed a fascination with English music in the month or so that we were there. Our hotel was near a small music store. I went in there just to look at the records. The man who ran the store was very kind and told me all about rock and roll music and would even play me a record sometimes. His name was David and he was about the same age as my father but he looked a lot younger. He had a few piercings and always wore some sort of bandana. I liked him better than I liked anyone else in London. So after I won the tournament, I asked Alexander for a tape player and three albums on tape. David gave me those albums for free and something he called a “mixtape”, so all Alexander had to do was pay for the Walkman and an extra pair of headphones.
I had only brought two of the albums with me on this trip and left the mixtape at home. I didn’t want to risk damaging all of them. But the ones I had seemed fine. I’d listen to the first half of The Clash album I brought. I had picked it because of the name in part, London Calling seemed like an appropriate thing to buy while in London. It was also one I had heard in the music store and really liked. I brushed my hair, popped the tape into the Walkman, and clipped it to my pants. Alexander gave me a peculiar look when I finally joined him, but he kept quiet. I started to explain myself, thinking I had done something odd by not changing out of my pajamas, but he stopped me and said it was fine. He was just amused by it. I didn’t understand why, but people are easily amused by things I say or do, so I guess it wasn’t out of the ordinary.
Things were more tolerable like this. Breakfast was okay. It didn’t make my skin crawl like the meal I had the night before. I suppose it was hard to make an omelette that was bad unless you really tried. I tapped my foot along to the music while I ate. People were looking at me though, which made me insecure. I just tried to focus on the music and my food. Alexander finished before I did and told me he’d be back in a moment. This gave me some time to finish eating and get a glass of fruit juice. I didn’t know what it was, but it was sweet, and I liked sweet things. I sat and waited for a few minutes until Alexander returned with his miniature chess set. I turned the volume of my music down since he started talking as he set things up. He told me about the plans for the day again (in case I had forgotten) and how things would go tomorrow. I had a short interview I had to do in the afternoon, but he had already prepared a list of responses for me. I wasn’t sure how reporters could’ve known I was here early, but many of the reporters I’ve met have a few screws loose. Or maybe Alexander arranged for it to happen so I could get some “good press” in early. Probably that.
We only played two games. I won both of them, but they were pretty close. I didn’t exactly “kick his ass” as he put it. I wondered if he underestimated himself.
“You should play against Sergievsky.” I picked up one of the pawns before Alexander could put it away. I rolled it between my fingers as I talked. “At least for a game or two. Just to see how it is.”
“Is that a joke?” he asked, reaching for the pawn.
“Maybe.” It was. I tried smiling like how he does after a bad joke. He seemed to get it then. I put the pawn in his hand. “But you are a good player.”
“You’ve only ever seen me lose.”
“You came very close to winning against me.” I shrugged. I was far from the best chess player, but I was still very good. Only top players ever gave me as much trouble as Alexander. “And you know Sergievsky better than I do. I think you could beat him.”
Alexander hummed. “Well, maybe… But I am not a professional in the same way as you are. I love the game as much as you—”
He stopped himself short and shook his head. “Okay, maybe not as much as you do, but you understand what I’m trying to say.”
I did. I felt similarly when I was just Sergievsky’s second. Maybe if Alexander wasn’t so heavily involved in politics, he could have a good career in chess like I was going to have. Though, I suppose chess and politics went hand in hand. I didn’t think about that for too long. I was trying not to make myself upset again, and politics was one of the things that frustrated me easily. I sighed and told Alexander I was going to get changed. As much as I really didn’t want to explore Bangkok, I had made that deal. I knew it would be good for me either way. I did take my time getting back to my room though. Mostly because I wanted to listen to more of the tape before I had to pause it. When I got back to my room, I brushed my teeth first, then changed into something light. As I slipped my loafers, I realized that some of my anxiety had already gone away. I still wanted to go home, but I suppose eating did make me feel less dreadful. And I reasoned that dealing with the noise of the city would be easier with my Walkman.
It was hard to believe I had been crying about this just an hour before. Maybe things would be alright. Generally speaking, anyways. There was every chance I could lose, or something horrible could happen, but I was going to remain cautiously optimistic. If only so I wouldn’t have a massive meltdown in public like Mr. Trumper did. I had the whole month ahead of me. I suppose all I could do was wait to see how the tournament would play out. But I could worry about all that later. I didn’t want to keep Alexander waiting. I stood up and left my room, locking the door behind me. I think today was going to be alright after all.