Chess Dance

They say if you sit in front of your computer staring at an empty screen and you don’t know what to write, find a prompt and start writing – something, anything. The following story is a result of such an exercise. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Chess Dance

“We did it!” Shelley whispers, “Nice ice! What a beauty!” She admires the diamond necklace we just freed from its vitreous jail. The stones sparkle in the moonlight that shines through the roof window, as she turns it in her hand. Although it’s a full moon tonight I can hardly see her and Cloe down here. Our deep black clothes are the perfect cover.

I smile. The adrenaline rushes through my veins while I stand in Mr. Grigori’s vault enjoying the triumph for a moment. Yes, we did it! Our last test! …

Well, we still have to get out of here, I snap back into reality mode.

“Pack it, Shell, let’s move o_…” my whispers are interrupted by a clicking sound that comes from the open vault door. In unison we jerk our heads around and instantly freeze just as the floor outside the vault lights up.

“Wow!” Cloe gasps.

The floor that looked normal when we came in, is now illuminated from below. Black and white tiles are dancing before our eyes. Oh Boy! A security chess board!

”Really?” Shelley mutters. She hands me the necklace. Without any comment I pack it in the little bag that hangs at my side. Security is her specialty. Cloe and I wait for her directions. Shelley cups her chin with her left hand, the index finger taps rapidly on her beautiful pursed lips and her eyes are fixed on the floor. Her thinking pose. Her brain is already working, finding a way for us to get out.

She will figure something out. She is good. I keep telling myself that, in hopes of calming my nerves. But I know that one wrong step on those tiles could mean our end. Especially Cloe cannot afford a failure. She’ll have to leave if we don’t make it this time. Her heavy breaths behind me reveal how nervous she is. I am glad I stand between her and Shelley.
Shelley needs to concentrate. She can’t be nervous now.

“It’s a song!” Shelley hisses after what seems like eternity. Shoot! Cloe is the musician!
“Cloe, the song? That he whistles all the time.” Shelley whispers over her shoulder.

Right, Mr. Grigori, our teacher for security detail classes whistles all the time, and it’s always the same song. What was it again?
I hear Cloe swallow hard. “Over the rainbow …,” she tries. “No, wait …” I hear her biting her lips. “Gosh! Clo, concentrate!” Shelley hisses back. Cloe covers her eyes with both hands for another moment of eternity. My heart skips some beats.

“The piano man!”

“Sure?” I whisper.

“Yes!” she whispers back, nodding her head up and down just like one of those bobbing-head toys that older people have in the back of their cars.

“Come on! Do your magic…” Shelley urges her.
Cloe hesitates, wasting valuable seconds. Finally, she steps forward, takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. Her last chance to stay at spy school.

The silence stretches.

And then, she sings, and dances.

“It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
There’s an old man sitting next to me
Makin’ love to his tonic and gin”

She’s beautiful. Amazing! Elegant! Dancing over the tiles, she steps on every white tiles as it lights up, mimicking the melody on the floor.

“He says, “Son, can you play me a memory
I’m not really sure how it goes
But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man’s clothes.”
La la la, di da da”

On the second ‘da’ about 1000 lights explode in my eyes, blind me. For a split-second I think Cloe stepped on the wrong tile.

Slow claps echo in the room. Mr. Grigori’s voice sounds, “Good job, team G!”

Cloe turns around to face us, throws both arms in the air. “Yes! We made it!”
We passed! Cloe stays!

And I breathe again.

****

Please leave a comment if you liked the story, or constructive critique that I can learn to be better.