A Fateful Game

_{This is a fictional story inspired by the writing prompt found here. @themarkymark linked it in his post. He's apparently going to do these writing prompts every week, which is most encouraging. It's not necessarily hard to come up with things to post about, but it is nice to get prompts to write about. Writing prompts and contests are wonderful to get the inspiration and drive to write with. Even if there weren't a prize pool, it's good to have a bit of encouragement, which the prize pool increases. :P Hope some of you decide to put in entries for the prize pool when he announces the writing prompt in the coming days.}

The cold air, signifying the coming winter, blew a beautiful palette of red and brown leaves from the dying trees in the park. Despite the brisk air, the park bustled with people in their own little worlds. Couples walked arm in arm down the paved running tracks throughout the park, heads on shoulders, enjoying the beauty autumn was painting on the trees, and in turn the ground as their leaves fell. A few sat on benches, some alone.

A lone homeless man pushed a cart with a squeaky wheel. He sort of shuffled forward, one of his legs moving with a sort of a limp. Much of his weight was likely on the cart. The cart was filled with all sorts of things, most of them concealed by a large blanket that was covered in dirt and filth. The rest was concealed by trash bags lining the sides of the cart, with a few things in bags of their own.

The homeless man made his way to a park bench where a businessman sat. The businessman looked up at the homeless man and looked like he didn't know what to do.

"Shoo shoo! The time is nigh and the party is about to start! You must leave! You have some place to go! Besides, you're scheduled to find your wife sleeping with her 'gay' best friend. He's clearly bi and you're kind of stupid for never seeing it. Now shoo! Time for you to go!"

The businessman looked even more confused, but picked up his coffee and briefcase and walked off hurriedly.

"I wish he had left the coffee. I could have used one. Plus he had an shot of espresso in it. That would have been quite welcome indeed!"

The homeless man dug through the trash and removed a few things, putting them into a bag in his cart, then shuffling things about to get to a purple velvet bag. He brushed off the sides and pulled a wooden box from inside. He lovingly ran his hands along the wood of the box, then shuffled over to the bench and put it down in the middle. Then he shuffled over to one side of the bench, sat down, and opened it. Inside was an oak and ivory chess board and two sets of pieces, beautifully hand carved, one made of ivory and the other wood, stained black.

He took the chess board out and placed it in front of him on the bench, then carefully set out the pieces on either side, inspecting every piece as he did so. Occasionally he'd rub a bit of dust off one with his sleeve. Then he got to the second little black horse. There was a chip off the right of his muzzle, exposing the wood underneath.

"Oh no. Oh no. This just won't do. Oh no. Oh no. What will I do. It has to be perfect. He won't like if it's broken. He won't like it at all." The homeless man took a look around him. Everyone was oblivious to his presence. People don't like the homeless. They're ashamed of them. They ignore them. Well, most anyway. Thankfully there wasn't anyone with any interest right now.

He looked closely at the piece, then waved his hand in front of it, and it was just fixed, like that. "Ehh...I dunno...is it even? It kinda looks like maybe one nostril is larger than the other. Oh well. Close enough." He put the piece down on the board and continued his ritual of inspecting the pieces and putting them in their place on the board.

Soon enough, he was finished, and all the pieces were put in their places on the board. He looked at the pieces from multiple angles and adjusted a few just a bit. Then he closed the case and carefully picked up the board and put it on top. He looked at it from multiple angles, just like the pieces, and adjusted it just a bit.

"Perfect. At least I hope it is. I hope it is enough for him." He looked either direction and put his hands together, impatiently waiting. "Where is he?" He reached into his pocket and took out a broken watch. "He's late. He's late! Why is he late? Where is he? Where is he? Why is he late? Where is he? Why isn't he here? Where is he?"

Suddenly the wind blew furiously, stirring up leaves and blowing dirt in anyone's eyes that tried to look. Then the light of the sun suddenly shined brightly in a ray from the direction of wind. Then he was there, dressed in a suit, with a hat, and a long trench coat. From his hat came two curls from either side.

The wind died down and people continued on with what they were doing. The man walked up to the bench and sat down on the other side of the board.

"You're late!"

"I'm not late."

"You're late!"

"I arrived exactly on time."

"You're late!" The homeless man shook the broken watch out in front of him.

The man reached out and steadied the watch and looked at it. "This watch is broken. It's not even moving."

"You're late."

"If I am, you wouldn't be able to tell from that thing." The man shifted a bit and unbuttoned his jacket. Then he tried to adjust his coat so it wasn't quite so taught, as he was sitting on it. "I'll never understand you, brother. You collect all these things that these pesky humans throw away and act like they're treasures. You wheel them around in a shopping cart like a homeless man. Dress in rags. You're a god. You could rule them if you wanted. You could at least dress in something cleaner.

The homeless man sat up and his shoulders moved back. It was like he completely transformed into another person. Though he still wore the same clothes and the same dirt covered his face, suddenly he had a strength to him. His aura became one of strength and power. "And what am I supposed to do? Walk around in suits? Lead them around like sheep? Pretend to be a spiritual leader for a faith that worships someone else? These rituals they do...they just... I like my costume." He slumped down again, and the aura of power immigrating from him shrunk. "People pay me no mind. And these treasures I collect, they are just that." He looked down at his broken watch and cleaned the glass with his shirt sleeve. "I can see every moment of their life. I can see the designers toiling over their creation. I can see the manufacturers sweating as the pieces are machined and then carefully put together. I can see all the people looking on as they sit in the store windows, wanting them. Then I can see the one who finally picked them out, decided to get them, after working so hard for the money they paid. Then I can see that person going to work every day. This one. This one was worn by a businessman who worked hard to provide for his family, and still had time when he came home every day to help his son with his homework, eat dinner with his family, and then read him a story before bed. He wasn't always perfect but he tried. He tried every day. Then one day he gave this watch to his son. He wore it every day as he worked toward making enough for a small house with the wife he loved. Then she got pregnant and he started working later and later. He was trying to make more to help for the coming baby. Then one night, a mugger held him up and took this watch. From there, it certainly had an interesting life. I can see every moment from it's creation and I know you can too. It doesn't have to work for me to know just how long it's been since it made it's first tick. But if you insist." The homeless man flicked the watch with his finger and it suddenly started ticking. He then adjusted the time and put it back in his pocket. "Now, on with the game. I assume you want black."

"Black? Why would you assume I want black?"

"You always choose black. Always. You always do. Every time. Every time we've played, you chose black. Why wouldn't you choose black? You always choose black!"

He chuckled a bit. "Alright. Alright. You're right. I always choose black. You do get quite the advantage though."

"Yes. Maybe. But you choose black. You're always black."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Your move."

"This will decide it, yes? Decide all their fate?"

"Yes. All of them. It will decide if they can continue on for a bit, or if this is the final straw."

"Okay. Okay then. I'll move." He carefully looked around the pieces and reached for one, then pulled his hand back, then reached for another, and pulled it back. "So many choices. So many choices. What to do? What to do? Fate of the world on this one. Can't mess up. Can't mess up. Gotta get it right."

"Oh, it's not the end of the world. Just a minor bipedal species. Who knows, maybe some other species might take over in a few million years, with a bit of a nudge."

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Alright. Not the world. Just humanity. End of humanity. Gone. Poof. Destroyed. Forever and ever. Last straw. Get your way. Too much destruction. Too many pretty birds and such destroyed by the fat hairless apes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Alright." He moved a pawn on the board. "Your move."

"It's not just the birds and other species destroyed. It's all of it. They made this vast infrastructure and they're moving the world around with no care about what they're doing, what it's effects will be. And they have to put up these god awful sky scrapers everywhere and block the horizon. Ehh, I just can't take it anymore. The crusades and such were fun and all, but now, they're just destroying everything, and there's no end in sight." He moved a piece and watched all the humans moving around.

"Yes, they are rather destructive. But they also also create so many interesting things. My cart is full of them. Each one of them has a story. A life they came from." He inspected the board carefully and moved a piece.

"Well, those lives are a bit interesting, I must admit. That's why I took this stupid role. Sure all the rituals and such can be a bit...annoying. I don't really get them. I understand what they bring to the people though. Their emotions and lives can be so interesting. I don't really get them all the time either." He looked down and quickly moved a piece.

"Look at them. What do you think they're talking about?"

"What do you mean? If you wanna hear what they're talking..."

"No, don't. Don't just listen to them. Wonder. All of them have such complicated lives. They all have their quirks. Their habits. They can't even control themselves really. They're just caught in the wave of their lives. Right now, those two are caught in a wave of emotions. They can only guess what the other is thinking. Hoping they say the right things." He moved a piece on the board and kept watching the couple.

"Yeah, you're right, brother. Do you suppose she loves him?"

"In her way. In her way. The question is, will it be enough to overcome their hardships?"

"Heh heh heh...I can think of one hardship that will take a lot more than just love to overcome. At least they're gonna need some kind of topical cream or something as their skin sloughs off."

"That's not really funny, 'brother'. That's rather morbid in fact. And disgusting."

"Having trouble keeping up your crazy homeless person speech?" He moved a piece on the board and kept watching the couple.

"Well, can you blame me? The character just repeats himself and acts crazy. Doesn't make for long conversations very easily. But if you like, I can try to add in some extra crazy for you."

"That's quite alright. If she does love him, do you suppose he knows?"

"I doubt it. Look at that nervousness. He doesn't know what to do. He's barely able to hold her hand." He turned his attention to the boards and pondered over what piece to move. "What to do? What to do? Their life depends on me. Young love. They deserve a chance. But they could die. They could all die. Can't lose. Can't lose. Gotta make a move." He moved a piece and returned his attention to the couple. "Look at that smile. That smile, that's really something. You can see the nervousness, just like him, but there's a flutter in her stomach, you can see it in the corners of her smile. Her smile. Her smile. That's really something. Young love. Young love."

"Yes, she does seem to really like him. Not like so many of these couples these days. Just like these rituals I peddle. Find someone. Have a date. Go to dinner. See a movie. Have sex. Stay together. Like them well enough? Get married. Have kids. Get a dog. White picket fence. So boring. I hate rituals. I get enough of that with my job."

"Yes. Rituals. Same thing. Over and over. Again and again. Over and over. Again and again. Gotta do the same thing. Same thing."

The rabbi moved a piece. "I don't get it. Why do they do it? Why can't they just take comfort in life as it comes?

"They like it. They like the comfortable. The familiar. Rituals are familiar. The practice and improve and repeat and improve and repeat. They get to know it. It's familiar. They know what to do. No surprises. Surprises make them nervous. Don't know what to do. Scared."

"Yes, I can see the fear in their eyes. But there's so much more. Why would so many give up so much beauty for but a little bit of ritual."

"Doesn't quite make sense, does it? But they do. They do. They're too afraid. Too much fear and pain. They have to escape into their rituals. It's comfort. Easy. So easy." He moved a piece on the board and looked up at the couple.

"Do you suppose they'll fall into ritual like all the others?"

"They always do it seems. Always do. But now, there's so much beauty in everything they do. They'll wake up and everything will be so beautiful. So beautiful. No sunset will be as beautiful as the one they see with the one they love."

"But they'll forget. He get caught up in his job. Work too late. Forget that love, because it's no longer new. Something will happen. It will get ugly. Maybe one of them will 'cheat'. Then they'll forget their love completely in the anger."

"So sad. So sad. But maybe. Maybe they will survive. If only a chance. A chance to win. Move your piece. Must win. Must win."

"Fine." He looked carefully at the board. "Maybe they do deserve a chance. But humanity has squandered every chance they've had so far." He moved his piece. "Do you remember the last time we played this game? And the time before that? Do you remember the cold war? I was so close to winning that time. Eventually I'm going to win. And your little pets are all going to die."

"Not today." He moved his piece. "Not today."

"Death doesn't have to be a bad thing. Look at all these trees. They're losing their leaves. All those leaves scattering the ground like so many dead bodies. So beautiful. But the tree, it will come back next year, bigger and more beautiful than ever."

"I don't want to see the world scattered with dead bodies. It's not beautiful. It's disgusting."

"Well those bodies will fertilize the soil and we'll have even bigger trees. It will be so beautiful. And silent. The earth will have a chance to repair itself. Animals will come back."

"We're on the cusp of something though. Things are changing. There's a chance. Maybe they'll stop being such idiots."

"Nope. Not possible. Not unless you decide to give them a little push." He moved a piece on the board.

"Well, that's always an option. But I think they have a chance. A chance. Yes. They have these hopes. These dreams. Change. They might. They could change. They could grow. There's a chance." He moved another piece. "Do you see them, 'brother'? Any day now they could wind up having a kid. A kid! A new generation! Every generation is different! They grow. Change. It's a new chance! A new chance!"

"Maybe you're right." He haphazardly moved a piece without really looking. "Things do seem to change quite a bit with every generation. And this latest generation certainly is different. And they're changing so much. It could get a lot better. Or worse. It will at least be interesting."

"Perhaps. Perhaps worse. But a chance. It's a chance. If they don't succeed, we'll probably be playing a lot more of these games soon. Yes. Soon." He focused on the board and carefully moved a piece.

"They really are interesting, aren't they? Their emotions are so powerful. They move them around like little pieces on a chess board. They're pawns for them." He moved another piece, barely thinking.

"Yes. They can't help it. They're slaves to their emotions. Slaves. They can only try to control them." He focused on the board carefully, reaching for a piece, then changing his mind and moving another.

"That's the one thing I do love about them. They're like butterflies, fluttering about. Or chickens with their heads cut off." He watched the couple intently and absentmindedly moved his piece.

"Check." He moved his piece, checking the Rabbi's king.

"What? Oh." He moved his king and went back to watching the couple.

"You seem rather interested in them."

"Yes. Humans did always kind of interest me. Even if they do annoy me so much. Well, these ones don't. More the ones destroying everything without a care in the world."

"Check." He moved a piece again.

"Oh. Damn. What...damn..." He moved a piece, sacrificing it to save his king. The couple got up and started to walk away, arm in arm, smiling.

"Oh, they're leaving. Check...mate."

"What? Oh. Damn. You distracted me."

"Me? What? Never. Gotta go!" He quickly packed up the board and pieces, putting them all in the box and then the bag. "Time to go. Gotta go. Lots to do. Gotta go. No time. No time."

"Now what are you, a rabbit? Wanna check your watch?"

"What? No. But yes." He took his watch out. "Gotta go. No time. No time."

"This isn't over yet, brother. The time will come. They'll keep putting themselves in places where their fate is in question and we'll have to play this game. You can't protect your favourites forever. Their time will come."

"Yes. Time. But not now. Not today. And you like them too. You're just tired. But you like. Yes. You'll give them a chance. If they just change a bit. You might just put down your king the next time without pretext."

"What? I would never."

"No. Never. Of course not. Must go now. Things to do. Bye. Chao. Bye. Away. Bye." He rolled his cart away as the sun set with a beautiful array of reds and pinks and blues and white.

The rabbi sat on the bench and smiled. "Heh heh. Well...guess they do deserve a chance." He walked off towards the sunset, then there was a spark of light and it was like he disappeared into it.

_{Image CC0 Public Domain (source)}