‘Compared to the KGB, they’re angels. But don’t forget, they can make or break your chances of becoming an American citizen,’ said Dimitri as Alex burst into the room.
‘OK, you guys, my name is Agent Karpenko, and I’m putting you both under arrest.’
‘On what charge?’ Dimitri demanded.
‘Brewing illegal alcohol in the basement of this establishment.’
They both burst out laughing.
‘Then you’d better drink your milk, Alex, before you go to school. And I need to get moving too, if I’m going to keep my job.’
‘That job isn’t good enough for you, Mama. You ought to be working in a real restaurant, not a pizza joint.’
‘It’s fine for the time being,’ said Elena. ‘And it’s not a joint. The pay’s not bad, and yesterday they let me make my first pizza.’
‘Real chefs don’t make pizzas.’
‘They do when it’s the only job in town.’
Alex couldn’t wait to be interviewed by a special agent from the CIA. He borrowed a book from the library the following morning, entitled The CIA and its Role in the Modern World, and read it from cover to cover, twice. He had so many questions he wanted to ask a real agent.
He was on his way to the market the following Saturday when he saw them for the first time. An assorted group of men and women of various ages and nationalities, all with one thing in common: a love of chess. He recalled Dimitri telling him about Players’ Square, so he decided to find out for himself. Their heads were bowed as they studied the boards. There must have been a dozen of them, perhaps more, waiting for their opponents’ next move.
Alex hadn’t played chess since he’d arrived in America, and like a drug addict who’s been deprived of his next fix, he joined the onlookers, moving quickly from game to game until he came across a heavily set middle-aged man dressed in jeans and a sweater, who was seated on his own. None of the other players seemed willing to take the seat opposite him. Alex decided there was only one way to find out why.
‘Hi,’ he said, ‘my name is Alex.’
‘Ivan,’ the man replied. ‘But before you sit down, have you got a dollar to lose? Because that’s what it’s going to cost you when I win.’
Alex did have a dollar, two in fact, which Elena had given him along with a list of groceries she needed for the weekend.
He sat down, extracted a bill from his pocket and held it up. ‘Now let’s see yours.’
The man chuckled. ‘You’ll only see mine if you beat me.’ He moved his king’s bishop’s pawn two squares forward.
Alex immediately recognized an opening often used by Boris Spassky, and countered by moving his queen’s pawn forward one square.
The undisputed champion of Brighton Beach gave him a second look before moving his king’s knight in front of his pawns. It only took a few more moves for Ivan to realize he would have to concentrate if he was going to defeat his young challenger.
Neither noticed that a small crowd had begun to gather around them, wondering if it could be possible that ‘the champ’ was about to be defeated for the first time in months. It was another forty minutes before a round of applause broke out when Alex delivered the word ‘checkmate’.
‘Best of three?’ suggested the older man, handing over a dollar.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Alex replied, ‘but I have to go. I have some errands to run for my mother.’
It was the way he pronounced the word ‘mother’ that caused Ivan to ask his next question in Russian. ‘Then why don’t you come back tomorrow, around midday, and give me a chance to win my dollar back.’
‘I’ll look forward to that,’ said Alex, who stood up and shook hands with a man he knew wouldn’t be taken by surprise a second time.
Alex couldn’t be sure what time it was, but felt certain his mother would be home by now. He hurried out of the square and headed straight for the market, where he bought the vegetables and pork chops his mother had asked for. He had quickly learnt which stalls to go to for the finest cuts of meat and the freshest vegetables, but most of all he enjoyed haggling with the stallholders before handing over any cash; something every Russian did from the day they were born, except for his mother.
After he’d paid for a couple of pounds of potatoes, the last item on his mother’s list, he began to make his way home. He wouldn’t have stopped if he hadn’t seen her looking at him through the window. He hesitated for a moment, then marched into the shop as if he had always intended to.
‘I need a belt,’ said Alex, naming the first item of clothing that popped into his head.
‘That’s not the only thing you need,’ said the girl, as she selected a nearly new brown leather belt and handed it to him. He tried to give her his winnings. ‘Save it,’ she said. ‘You can take me to a movie tomorrow night.’
Alex was lost for words. He’d never asked a girl out on a date, and now the dame was doing the asking. Cagney wouldn’t have approved.
‘Henry Fonda in Once Upon a Time in the West,’ she said. He’d never heard of Henry Fonda.
‘Ah yes,’ said Alex, ‘I was looking forward to seeing that movie.’
‘Well, now you’re going to. I’ll meet you at the Roxy at six-thirty. Don’t be late.’
‘I won’t,’ he said, wondering where the Roxy was. As he turned to leave the shop, she said, ‘Don’t forget your belt.’
Alex grabbed it, threw it in one of the bags and walked casually out of the shop. Once he had rounded the corner, he ran all the way home.
‘Where have you been?’ his mother asked as he entered the kitchen. ‘It’s gone six.’
He wondered whether to tell her about Ivan and the chess game (she would approve), the dollar he’d won (she wouldn’t approve), and his second encounter with the girl from the thrift store (he couldn’t be sure), going to a movie (he could be sure). Elena opened the brown paper bag, pulled out the leather belt and asked, ‘Where did you get this?’
Alex would have told her, but he couldn’t remember her name.
Alex returned to Players’ Square the following morning, but not until his mother had left for work.
Ivan was already sitting at one of the boards, fingers tapping impatiently on the table. He held up two clenched fists even before Alex had sat down. Alex tapped the right hand, and Ivan opened it to reveal a white pawn. He rotated the board and waited for Alex to make the first move.
After an hour, it was clear to those who had congregated around the board to watch the match that there wasn’t much to choose between the two players. Ivan won the first game, and Alex had to hand back his hard-earned dollar before the board was reset for the decider. The final game was by far the longest.
Eventually Ivan and Alex agreed on a stalemate. They stood and shook hands, which was greeted by a spontaneous round of applause from the lesser mortals surrounding them.
‘Do you want to make some real money, kid?’ asked Ivan as the crowd melted away.
‘Only if it’s legal,’ replied Alex. ‘My American citizenship is still only provisional, so I could be sent back to the Soviet Union if I was found guilty of a crime.’
‘We wouldn’t want that, would we?’ said Ivan, grinning. ‘Let’s go and have a coffee, then I’ll explain what I have in mind.’
Ivan guided his protégé to the far side of the square and across the road to a small diner. He strolled in, said ‘Hi, Lou’ to the man behind the counter, and headed for what was evidently his usual booth. Alex slipped into the seat opposite him.
‘What would you like?’ asked Ivan.
‘I’ll have the same as you,’ said Alex, hoping it wasn’t too obvious he’d never been in a diner before.