Check and Mate

He was there on time. She was fashionably late. When they saw each other, they went with the usual polite conversation that follows meeting a new person. Even if that person is rude or dull. She was Myriam, He was Ben. And this, was a blind date.

Ben was a failed writer. His friend Claire owned an art gallery had suggested this date; he was starting to be aging. "He is too blunt to be good at what he does. I don't like him" thought Myriam

Myriam was a journalist. Her friend and neighbor Claire had talked about him. She never thought she'd do this one day; she was confident in her charming self and considered herself above blind dating. "She is pretentious; I don't really like her"

Ben and Myriam quickly realized that conversation was going to stay of the surface and that no good would come out of this date. At Claire's suggestion, they met in the public park, next to the chess tables. They were both chess-lovers; she had hoped that the original setting would help the date.

Ben asked "shall we?"

"Sure"

Those were the last words for the next hour and a half.

Ben let Myriam be white; he was a gentleman after all. She made her classic opening, preparing herself to rush to the center. Ben answered by his classic aggressive opening. To which she quickly replied with an agressive stance as well. "Hmm... interesting. Let's see how she adapts". He got his horses quickly out, a sure way to crush the pawns in the beginning of the game. She didn't budge however, and got her bishop out, bolstering her defense as well as leaving herself openings for an attack. Ben liked what he saw, and chose to bring back his horse in defence. "He can't be stupid enough to let me prepare my defence like I am. Not after that opening. Hmm he is not testing me either, he has done that with his opening gambit. Maybe he is being delicate and letting me develop my defense; he either likes a challenge or like a complicated chess game. It's a little show-off but it's interesting. Interesting, indeed"

Myriam developed her defence by surrounding the center of the board. Ben wasn't foolish enough to occupy it and let himself be surrounded. Instead, his army was seemingly watching the enemy defence preparing itself while preparing for any attack. Seeing this, Myriam applied the finishing touches to her formation. He probed it with his cavalry, but saw that she wasn't answering provocations. So instead, he decided to have his cavalry inside her formation. Again, she did not budge; instead, she attacked elsewhere. He went to the rescue of his isolated piece by providing it support. She reacted by threatening this support. He thought "I haven't taken any of her pieces. This is odd; not bad though". She thought: "He is smarter than he looks and more subtle than in my first impression. Maybe there is something in common between us". "You wanna dance? let's dance"

And they did just that. The following 50 steps were nothing but a waltz. Little plastic figures, moving around the black and white board. He was moving his pieces around, attacking when she withdrew, retreating when she advanced. No piece were taken, no soldiers fell. There was a spark in both their eyes; the pieces were turning around each other in close embrace, never fighting. Never completely hindered, but never completely free. They were barely touched by their masters who looked in each others eye. A bee came to watch the game; she went unnoticed. People gathered to see how the game was going. Never staying, and seemingly carried away by the wind, they did not dare to offer any suggestions to the players. They were focused, both on the game, on themselves and on the other one. Movements were extremely slow, as if each time, Ben and Myriam were savouring the moment where they would send the other back inside their minds; they enjoyed showing each other the product of their own intelligence, because each move was just that; it was no longer a game of chess, no, rather it was art made by two; it was the emulation of two intelligences trying to outdo the other one, without wanting to do that or really being able to. Neither would have liked this little game to end. But the ballet had to end. And in the end, one of them would be the winner, or they'd both be losers.

The flow of people walking by was slowly dying. So was the sunlight. The movements were growing more agressive, more furious. Still no piece had fallen, and yet they were making their way for each other king. A pawn fell, slayed by a knight. At long last, the first blood had been drawn. A butchery ensued. The moves were closer to each other; the bodies of the players gradually closing in the table and the pieces. In the end, it reached the point were both players had only one move to make to win the game. And it was Ben's turn. He was finding himself in a position he never thought he would be. If he made the move, he would win; he would have been very proud of himself, because she was one of the toughest opponent he ever had. But at the same time, the game would end, the two would probably not see each other again, because her pride would be wounded. And he didn't want to hurt her. At the same time; his own pride was at stake; she would win the game if he didn't do it.

Myriam was seeing the dilemma in Ben's face and knew it wasn't because he didn't know which was the move. She had made a small mistake that was costing her the game; she was sulking because of that. At the same time, she was deeply appreciative that Ben was hesitating the way he was. She knew that pride was at stake here. And yet, if he showed her mercy, she would have to win the game; or else it would mean that she was powerless to play without mercy from an adversary. She had seen that Ben was a proud individual. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the impending defeat she was about to suffer.

Ben saw her resignation, but couldn't bring himself to make a decision. Their faces were above the board; all seeing in the small lives of their pieces. He saw her face; and admired the resignation on it. A small hair was in front of her nose; and then he knew. He went for it.

Myriam opened her eyes in shock. She was expecting defeat at the hands of the most intelligent adversary she ever had; but that adversary's lips were on her. She didn't hesitate though; she closed her eyes again and let the magic take its course. Ben swept the board clean in one big motion. The war was over; it had been conquered by love.