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The
surprising
thing
was
how
badly
they
played
.
All
of
them
.
In
the
very
first
games
of
her
life
she
had
understood
more
than
they
did
.
They
left
backward
pawns
all
over
the
place
,
and
their
pieces
were
wide
open
for
forks
.
A
few
of
them
tried
crude
mating
attacks
.
She
brushed
those
aside
like
flies
.
She
moved
briskly
from
board
to
board
,
her
stomach
calm
and
her
hand
steady
.
At
each
board
it
took
only
a
second
’
s
glance
to
read
the
position
and
see
what
was
called
for
.
Her
responses
were
quick
,
sure
and
deadly
.
Charles
Levy
was
supposed
to
be
the
best
of
them
;
she
had
his
pieces
tied
up
beyond
help
in
a
dozen
moves
;
in
six
more
she
mated
him
on
the
back
rank
with
a
knight
-
rook
combination
.
Her
mind
was
luminous
,
and
her
soul
sang
to
her
in
the
sweet
moves
of
chess
.
The
classroom
smelled
of
chalk
dust
and
her
shoes
squeaked
as
she
moved
down
the
rows
of
players
.
The
room
was
silent
;
she
felt
her
own
presence
centered
in
it
,
small
and
solid
and
in
command
.
Outside
,
birds
sang
,
but
she
did
not
hear
them
.
Inside
,
some
of
the
students
stared
at
her
.
Boys
came
in
from
the
hallway
and
lined
up
along
the
back
wall
to
watch
the
homely
girl
from
the
orphanage
at
the
edge
of
town
who
moved
from
player
to
player
with
the
determined
energy
of
a
Caesar
in
the
field
,
a
Pavlova
under
the
lights
.
There
were
about
a
dozen
people
watching
.
Some
smirked
and
yawned
,
but
others
could
feel
the
energy
in
the
room
,
the
presence
of
something
that
had
never
,
in
the
long
history
of
this
tired
old
schoolroom
,
been
felt
there
before
.
What
she
did
was
at
bottom
shockingly
trivial
,
but
the
energy
of
her
amazing
mind
crackled
in
the
room
for
those
who
knew
how
to
listen
.
Her
chess
moves
blazed
with
it
.
By
the
end
of
an
hour
and
a
half
,
she
had
beaten
them
all
without
a
single
false
or
wasted
move
.
She
stopped
and
looked
around
her
.
Captured
pieces
sat
in
clusters
beside
each
board
.
A
few
students
were
staring
at
her
,
but
most
avoided
her
eyes
.
There
was
scattered
applause
.
She
felt
her
cheeks
flush
;
something
in
her
reached
out
desperately
toward
the
boards
,
the
dead
positions
on
them
.
There
was
nothing
left
there
now
.
She
was
just
a
little
girl
again
,
without
power
.
Mr
.
Ganz
presented
her
with
a
two
-
pound
box
of
Whitman
’
s
chocolates
and
took
her
out
to
the
car
.
Shirley
got
in
without
a
word
,
careful
not
to
touch
against
Beth
in
the
back
seat
.
They
drove
in
silence
back
to
the
Methuen
Home
.
Five
o
’
clock
study
hall
was
intolerable
.
She
tried
playing
chess
in
her
mind
,
but
it
seemed
for
once
pale
and
meaningless
after
the
afternoon
at
the
high
school
.
She
tried
reading
Geography
,
since
there
was
a
test
the
next
day
,
but
the
big
book
was
practically
all
pictures
,
and
the
pictures
meant
little
to
her
.
Jolene
was
not
in
the
room
,
and
she
was
desperate
to
see
Jolene
,
to
see
if
there
were
any
more
pills
.
Every
now
and
then
she
touched
her
blouse
pocket
with
the
palm
of
her
hand
in
a
kind
of
superstitious
hope
that
she
would
feel
the
little
hard
surface
of
a
pill
.
But
there
was
nothing
there
.
Jolene
was
at
supper
,
eating
her
Italian
spaghetti
,
when
Beth
came
in
and
picked
up
her
tray
.
She
went
over
to
Jolene
’
s
table
before
getting
her
food
.
There
was
another
black
girl
with
her
.
Samantha
,
a
new
one
.
Jolene
and
she
were
talking
.
Beth
walked
straight
up
to
them
and
said
to
Jolene
,
“
Have
you
got
any
more
?
”
