Richard laughed loudly, but the laugh sounded forced.
“I’ve been playing chess since I was fifteen. This girl probably learned last week.” Ellen, standing on the far side of the crowd, watched nervously. Boris leaned toward her and whispered, “Your daughter is awfully calm for somebody playing a grown man.”
Ellen said Maggie was always like that during a game, as if she stepped into another world. And that was exactly how it looked. The girl seemed to be in deep concentration. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, studying every piece as if she were reading a complicated story.
The opening moves had already revealed something that caught the attention of the few real chess players in the crowd. Maggie wasn’t playing like a child. Her responses were sophisticated.
She showed knowledge of classic openings that usually take years to understand. “Interesting,” an older man murmured from the edge of the crowd. “That girl knows advanced theory.”
Richard, realizing the opening had not gone the way he expected, tried to hide his discomfort. “Beginner’s luck. She probably saw a few moves in a movie,” he said. But when he made his next move, attacking one of Maggie’s pieces, he expected her to retreat.
He assumed the schoolgirl would go on defense and show some fear. Instead, she ignored the attack completely and moved her bishop onto a powerful diagonal. “Hey, I attacked your piece. You’re supposed to defend it,” Richard protested.
“I don’t need to,” Maggie said calmly. “Your threat isn’t real.” “What do you mean it isn’t real? I can take your piece on my next move.”
“You can try,” Maggie said, moving another piece with precise control. Richard looked at the board and realized that if he took her piece, she would hit back with a devastating counterattack. How had she seen that coming?
The crowd got louder. The people who understood chess began explaining to everyone else what was happening. “She’s three moves ahead of him. She plays like a pro. He has no idea who he’s up against,” people whispered.
Richard was sweating hard now in his expensive suit. The game that was supposed to last five minutes had already gone past twenty. He couldn’t understand how a child was dictating the pace.
“Marina,” he whispered, “call Dr. Foster and cancel my four o’clock meeting.” His assistant looked surprised and asked why. “Because this game may take a little longer than I planned,” he said under his breath.
Maggie kept playing with remarkable calm. Every move was measured, exact, and elegant. No wasted motion. No piece out of place.
“Are you okay? Would you like someone to bring you some water?” she asked politely. “I’m perfectly fine,” Richard said too loudly, drawing more attention from the crowd. “I’m just analyzing all the possibilities.”
But the truth was, he was rattled. His pieces were scattered and uncoordinated, while Maggie’s worked together like a well-rehearsed orchestra. Then the schoolgirl made a move that left even the chess players in the crowd staring.
She sacrificed her bishop, offering it to Richard for free. “You… you’re giving me a piece?” he asked, confused. “I’m offering an exchange,” she said. “If you want it, take it.”
Richard studied the position. Taking the bishop looked clearly favorable. One less bishop for Maggie meant a material advantage for him. “Why would she do that?” he wondered.
Out loud he said, “Sure, I’ll take it. Thanks for the piece.” He captured the bishop with satisfaction, thinking he had finally gained the upper hand. Maggie gave the faintest smile and said, “You’re welcome.”
