Chess book 2 Chapter 1 (rough) In honor of my soon to be released Crafting of Chess Audiobook.

I  like to think everything is great because I’m the big winner. Stealing a victory out from all the other players noses. Then getting reunited with my mother after thinking she had died.  Now, I’m able to live a more normal life like I wanted. I force those thoughts, hoping they will hide the other ones.

The chess board is scooted a few inches across the desk closer to me, as though I haven’t noticed it there the whole time that I am in this meeting. “Are you sure you’re not interested in playing? I’m a fair hand at the game myself, Nate. The chess club at Lawnmore High is ranked third in the state. It’s been a week since school has started, and your mom has been worried that you’re isolating yourself and not having fun. She’s mentioned how much you used to always love to play.”

Even though Grayson, the school counselor, has one of those almost fake sounding professional attitudes, I like to think that maybe he cares. It doesn’t lessen my flash of anger, “I wonder if that is why he took me, to play chess in the park for money. Kind of takes away the fun of it.”  It makes no sense, at the same time it is the only thing that makes sense.  I had been with him for years before that happened and I remember at eleven being the one to push gramps to let me run games in the park. 

“She said she even got you one of those fancy immersion headsets that are popular, but all you do is study, read books, and maybe lift some weights. You need to expand your horizons. I want us to make a goal of you exploring the extra curricular options that are available at Lawnmore.  It’s important to make peer connections.  Next time we talk I would like you to tell me about approaching one of the clubs we have here.”

Great, more homework.  Years of conventional schooling missed and I’m behind everyone.  I never learned how to write a proper paper. I don’t know the history behind the fifty-first state, or why knowing the krebs cycle is important,  “Fine.” I grumble.  I check the clock in the corner and most of my free period is gone and my time here is up. 

With one of my worst classes next, I am not looking forward to the next period starting. It just reminds me of everything I’ve missed and how far I’m really behind.  American History, what history I learned was in chess books or  blurbs in first person video games. Ask me to write a proper three page paper on something and I am more lost than the casuals who used to challenge me in for a couple of dollars. 

Not that things are all bad. Someone my age walks by who I can’t help but admire. I manage not to stare too hard like most of my teenage counterparts. One thing gramps had taught me was how to check out a situation without being too obvious about it.  I am however still woefully under prepared for teenage peer interactions. What little I did get from hanging out at the gameshop and playing games seems to be more of a detriment than any actual help.  

A week here and I’m still having a hard time talking to anyone.  I’m afraid I’ll introduce myself as Jay, James, Justin or that I’ll make up some lie like I did too easily at the park. In some ways, I’m afraid I’ll slip into the weird truth.  

          I didn’t come up with my friends from middle school. Tested well enough overall to at least enter as a sophomore and not a year behind as a freshman.  I push my way into the history classroom, though, clearly I am behind in some subjects.

I’m sweating as I finally get out of there, sure I did the required reading. But that doesn’t mean I actually have the grasp of what is going on. Getting a C and red marks on the first paper of the year that I had handed back to me doesn’t help. 

There is an old fashioned corkboard wall where they keep paper flyer notices for different clubs and events. They also have a site online, but often those little tearaway tabs of paper get more notice. I manage to find myself in front of it for the brief time between classes to give it a once over.  

I’m not ready to face chess club. Fashion club and drama club are even more out. There is a  picture of a guy with a sword and something called HEMAA club and a note about partnering with the Fair Quest club. I find the Fair Quest gaming club flyer as well. I take the tab with the contact information off that one. Working at the forge, playing the game, crafting items had its moments.  It is also nice to know I had won there, away from gramps. That win is mine.

Maybe I can tell Grayson I tried without actually needing to meet with people face to face. I don’t have time for more than that before I have to rush off to my next class. It chafes some to know my time is no longer my own. 

 The rest of the day is going to classes, working and trying not to think of what to say if I want to approach someone.  Hustling in the park people always came up to you, I never needed to really start up a conversation. Gramps had always been the talker, did most of the talking for me when we ended up in a new situation or another.  Saying “Hey, I’m Nate, I won the kingmaker quest in Fair Quest,” seems too much of a brag. “Hey, I’m Nate. My Grandfather took me away ten years ago after telling me my parents had died. I’ve only loosely homeschooled or have played chess in the park. “ Nah, that just seems extra weird. 

Maybe Grayson is right and saying “I’m new, can I join your club?” is the best way to start things. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling some weight of anxiety when thinking about what if they do ask about my past. While sitting in my last class for the day I set a goal for myself to at least try the headset and log in today. That is probably better than the alternative of meeting a club in the real world. 

Public transportation,  the bus ride home is the most familiar thing about my day. Lugging the weight of my books around is awkward. I had actually forgotten my backpack a couple of days back simply because it wasn’t something I normally carried. 

Home is nice, it’s all the things it wasn’t before. Clean, tidy, neat, in a way that living with an old hobo like bachelor could never comapare with. It just isn’t comfortable. I carefully wipe my feet on the welcome mat not wanting to mess with the perfection.   “I’m home!” I announce to the house. Mom is most comfortable knowing that I made it back, she’s almost religous about knowing where I am and what I am doing as though I might disappear. 

“She’s out shopping Bro.”  Calls a girls voice that is not moms, causing me to jump. That is the other big change I hadn’t expected. I have a precocious eight year old sister, well, half sister. 

I peer my head into the living room to look at my sister who is chewing bubblegum and tapping on a tablet. “Dawn. I thought you had robotics club.”

“You can call me Sis you know. They wouldn’t get me a baby brother so you are going to be my Bro now and when I need you.”  I don’t know what a Bro is or even does exactly. Dawn seems to have some kind of expectation though. Everyone seems to have some kind of expectation.

“I’m going to go upstairs to my room and try out the headset mom got me.”

Dawn lets out a sigh. “You are so lucky. Mom says I have to be ten or twelve before she lets me try one. She keeps on changing the age when I ask.” She pauses to blow a bubble before continuing. “She’ll be glad you’re finally trying it.”

I don’t know what to say and head upstairs.  

My room is as neat and clean as the rest of the house. Of course almost everything in it is new, having been purchased in the last couple of months. A lone filebox in the corner represents all I took with me when I moved down here. I still can’t bring myself to open it.  Gramps wasn’t there, when still in a daze and wanting answers, I showed up back home with the officer. The place was cleaned out, even all my fake ID’s and papers. What little was left was  in my small room, that and the giant painting of the purple and orange forrest. I assume Old Pa couldn’t manage that himself. 

The headset is still in the box, I work it out of the packaging and take out the instructions. It’s about the size of a motorcycle helmet, all one piece and a plug.  Mom had set up my account before purchasing it, all I needed to do was plug it in and put it on. I leave it on the bed and do some homework before I get my nerve up.  

I slide it on and lay down on the bed. Then hit the start button on the side. I nearly scream as the inside squeezes to fit my head. I would have moved to take it off, but my body felt numb and unresponsive. “Calibrating.” A pleasant female voice announces. “State your name.”

“Nate Shoefield.”  

“Registration matched. Confirm information.” A display lists my name, address, date of birth, I see a note that age restricted content has been turned off by parental consent.  I find myself flushing because I hadn’t realized mom had done that. She’s made comments on how much of a grown man I am, even hinting I might find a girlfriend. I quickly confirm everything. 

Fair quest is listed as the number one game, I select it and it has me log in. I get a note saying that I can review my account messages while the game loads into the headset. I have three messages from the four people on my friends list. Sarah Tam and Mervlin simply congratulate me.  There is one from Jedi Walker and I find myself missing the game shop and his company. It is dated a week after I had won the Kingmaker. 

Padawan, I can’t say I was surprised when I saw you won. I bought a cake for when you were next to show up at the shop, It’s still in my freezer. When you didn’t show up I got nosey. I can’t help but feel guilty for missing on whatever trouble you were having. I still don’t know the details.  If you get this, I just want to say I’m sorry I couldn’t be there more for you.

I have the urge to somehow get a plane ticket and go to the game shop and assure him that none of this was his fault. I didn’t know; how could he. The rest of the messages come. There are over a hundred thousand of them. The most recent one is from this morning.  I will find you and kill you, then when you respawn I will kill you again.

There is a lot of hate, some congratulations, many requests for me to start crafting again. There is enough hate I have to question if I should even log into the game.  Some of them makes my stomach twist, I remember that maybe there is a chance at a fresh start. The game finishes its download and I go to the options and select customer service. 

I select it and it starts ringing like a phone. An automated system answers. “This is Immersion Arts automated customer service. Please state the nature of your Fair Quest emergency. I will try to find the best solution to your problem.”

“I’m receiving some player harassment and fear it will affect how I play the game. I had heard there is sometimes a character waiver or something that can be done.”

“Character modification outside of a full reset can only be done in special circumstances and is extremely unlikely to get approved. If you wish to reset your character say reset character. If you wish to talk to a live agent about your situation please say live agent.”

I think of starting over, but resetting doesn’t appeal to me. “Live agent.”

“There is a ten minute wait time. You may select a mini-game while you wait.”

The mini-game I select is coconut crush. The goal of the game is to bash into coconut trees shaking them loose then to slice them with a sword. The headset is different from the reactive room. It gives you an invincibility to know you can strain yourself and not really strain your body.  The game fades away just as I’m swinging to slice my tenth coconut. 

“Hello, this is Tyler.  Can you give me your character name and the issue you are having?”

“My character name is Chess and I’ve been getting some harassment and I heard about a character waiver.”

“Well I suppose if you do have a similar name things can happen, can you give me your spelling?”

“C-H-E-S-S” there is a pause at the other end of the line.

“Oh wait you are him! Wow, congratulations too I guess. Um, I’m going to get one of my bosses to handle this. Just wait on hold a bit while I,  um, handle this.”

Suddenly I’m back at coconut crush.  The coconut I had been swinging at earlier falls to the sandy floor uncut.  I manage to cut a total of thirty nine out of fifty coconuts. Then the game fades out again. 

“Sorry about the wait Nate. I’m one of the management leaders at Immersion Arts. We probably should have expected this call, but as it was, it caught us all a bit flat footed. I have a proposal for you that can solve your problem.”

Between the installation and the customer service time I only have a little more than an hour left for headset use. “I’m listening.”

“We are thinking of using your character as a new antagonist. We would need your permission of course to get the data from when you were playing. You would get a new character, same level, same class and profession. It wouldn’t be exactly the same but it will give you some peace and freedom from the over eager fans. The whole process will take about a week and I can send you over some forms right now to sign.” Three new user agreements pop up, each  dozens of pages long. Old me would have read through them, but I’ve already won and just want to play. I click Yes, Yes, and Yes. “Oh good you’ve accepted.  This is going to be monumental. I’ll let you know when your new character is ready.”

“Cool.” I say, tired and ready to be out of this.

“Cool indeed and Immersion Arts thanks you. You can call me Frank. I’ll fix you right up.”