“A mask,” he said. “I’m raging inwardly.”
“It doesn’t show.”
“I should not have played that goddamned bishop pawn.”
They sat silently for a while. He took a thoughtful sip of beer and asked, “What are you going to do about Borgov?”
“When I go to Paris? I don’t even have a passport.”
“When you go to Moscow.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t they deliver the mail in Kentucky?”
“Of course they do.”
“The Moscow Invitational. The U.S. winner is invited.”
“I want another beer,” she said.
“You didn’t know that?” Benny looked shocked.
“I’ll get the beer myself.”
“Go ahead.”
She went up to the bar and ordered another bottle. She had heard of the Moscow Invitational but knew nothing about it. The bartender brought her the beer, and she told him to get another. When she came back to the table, Benny said, “That’s too much beer.”
“Probably.” She waited for the foam to settle and took a swallow. “How do I get to Moscow if I go?”
“When I went, the Federation bought my ticket and a church group put up the rest.”
“Did you have a second?”
“Barnes.”
“Barnes?” She stared at him.
“It would be tough to be in Russia alone.” He frowned. “You shouldn’t drink beer like that. You’ll be washed up at twenty-one.”
She set down the glass. “Who else will be playing in Moscow?”
“Four other countries and the four top Russians.”
That would mean Luchenko and Borgov. Possibly Shapkin. She did not want to think about it. She looked at him quietly for a minute. “Benny, I like the way your hair looks.”
He stared at her. “Sure you do,” he said. “What about Russia?”
She took another drink of beer. She did like Benny’s hair and his blue eyes. She had never thought of him sexually before, but she was thinking that way now. “Four Russian chessplayers,” she said, “is a lot of Russian chess players.”
“Murderous.” He raised his glass and finished off his beer. He had drunk only the one. “Beth,” he said, “you’re the only American I know who might do it.”
“I went to pieces with Borgov in Mexico City…”
“When do you go to Paris?” Benny said.
“In five weeks.”
“Then get your life organized around that and study. Get a trainer.”
“What about you?”
He thought a moment. “Can you come to New York?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can sleep in my living room, and leave for Paris from there.”
The idea shocked her. “I’ve got a house to take care of, in Kentucky.”
“Let the fucking house fall down.”
“I’m not ready…”
“When will you be? Next year? Ten years?”
“I don’t know.”
He leaned forward and said slowly, “If you don’t do it, you’ll drink your talent away. It’ll go down the drain.”
“Borgov made me look like a fool.”
“You weren’t ready.”
“I don’t know how good I really am.”
“I know,” he said. “You’re the best there is.”
She took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll come to New York.”
“You can come with me from here,” he said. “I’ll drive us.”
“When?” This was happening too fast. She felt frightened.
“Tomorrow afternoon, when everything here’s finished. Whenever we can get away.” He stood up. “And about sex…”
She looked up at him.
“Forget it,” he said.
“Spring,” Benny said, “is first class. Absolutely first class.”
“How can you tell?” Beth asked. They were driving along a gray asphalt section of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, pounding along the gritty road with semis and dusty passenger cars.
“It’s out there somewhere. Up in the hills. It’s even in New York.”
“Ohio was pleasant,” Beth said. But she didn’t like this discussion. Weather did not interest her. She had made no arrangements for the house in Lexington, had not been able to get the lawyer on the telephone and did not know what to expect in New York. She did not like Benny’s insouciance in the face of her uncertainty, the kind of sunny blankness that suffused his face from time to time. He had looked that way during the awards ceremony and during the time she did her interviews and signed autographs and thanked the officials and the USCF people who had come down from upstate New York to talk about the importance of chess. His face was blank now. She turned her eyes to the road.
After a while he spoke up. “When you go to Russia I want to go with you.”
That was a surprise. They hadn’t talked about Russia, or chess, since getting in the car. “As my second?”
“Whatever. I can’t afford to pay expenses.”
“You want me to pay them?”
“Something will turn up. While you were interviewed by that magazine, I talked to Johanssen. He said there wouldn’t be any Federation money for seconds.”
“I’m only thinking about Paris,” she said. “I haven’t decided to go to Moscow yet.”
“You’ll go.”
“I don’t even know if I’m going to stay more than a few days with you. I have to get a passport.”
“We can do that in New York.”
She started to say something but didn’t. She looked at Benny. Now that blankness had left his face, she felt warmer toward him. She had made love to two men in her life, and it was hardly making love; if she and Benny went to bed together, there would be more to it. She would see there was more to it. They would be in his apartment by midnight; maybe something would happen there. Maybe he would feel differently at home.
“Let’s play chess,” Benny said. “I’ll be White. Pawn to king four.”
She shrugged. “Pawn to queen bishop four.”
“N,” he said, using the letter for “knight.” “K-B3.”
“Pawn to queen three.” She wasn’t sure she liked this. She had never shared her interior chessboard before, and there was a sense of violation in opening it to Benny’s moves.
“P to Q four,” Benny said.
“Pawn takes pawn.”
“Knight takes.”
“Knight. King bishop three.” Actually it was easy. She could look at the road ahead and at the same time see the imaginary chessboard and the pieces on it without difficulty.
“N to Q-B3,” Benny said.
“Pawn to king’s knight three.”
“P to B four.”
“P to B four.”
“The Levenfish,” Benny said dryly. “I never liked it.”
“Play your knight.”
Suddenly his voice was like ice. “Don’t tell me what to move,” he said. She pulled back as if stung.
They drove in silence for a few miles. Beth watched the gray steel divider that separated them from the oncoming lanes. Then, as they were coming to a tunnel, Benny said, “You were right about the knight on B-3. I’ll put it there.”
She hesitated a moment before speaking. “Okay. I’ll take the knight.”
“Pawn takes,” Benny said.
“Pawn to king five.”
“Pawn takes again,” Benny said. “Do you know what Scharz says about that one? The footnote?”
“I don’t read footnotes,” Beth said.
“It’s time you started.”
“I don’t like Scharz.”
“I don’t either,” Benny said. “But I read him. What’s your move?”