Miss Eva is right here, just a few steps away from me.
I pretend not to notice her. I try to focus on my chess game. I boldly advance my rook and capture another pawn, but that was not a good idea.
My opponent is not dumb at all. He immediately noticed the queen’s vulnerability, so I end up losing my queen, while the opponent’s side only loses a measly bishop. Good deal! Maybe for him.
“It seems like you’re fighting a losing battle,” Eva says. Then she asks simply, “What do we have to eat?”
“You have a choice between raw fish and raw fish,” I reply, my eyes fixed on my opponent’s knight.
“Raw? Why raw?”
“I didn’t have time to make a fire.”
“I see,” she says calmly. “And, pray tell, why didn’t you have time?”
“Don’t you see it at all?” I say annoyed. “I was busy with chess.”
The fish are neatly arranged, hanging to dry on the life jacket cord. They sway gently at the end of a stick, in the wind. I make a wide gesture and invite her to choose.
She doesn’t need to be asked twice. Eva’s white teeth eagerly tear the flesh off the bones. Although I could swear she’s famished, she doesn’t show it. She’s composed.
A true lady, what can I say!
“You can have them all,” I say generously like an oil sheikh. “I don’t mind. I renew my supply every day.”
Hunger doesn’t scare me anymore. I’ve evolved! My belly is full, and I’m cerebral. I’m in control of myself and everything around me.
I’ve become the King of Fish, the King of the Island, the King of the Wind, and, above all, the King of the Chessboard.
You’d better become the King of Rain, boy! The sooner, the better!
I puff up so much with pride that I become careless. In less than two minutes, I checkmate myself!
That’s what happens every time a woman appears near a man. Yes, the poor fellow loses his mind. It happens everywhere in the world. Thrones and heads have been lost this way.
“Do you still yearn for civilized life?” I ask teasingly. “It’s time to get used to our new life. I know you don’t like it, but you can’t fight fate. It’s called fate.”
The girl tears off a piece of fish and spits a bone in my direction. Look at that! She’s not acting like a lady anymore. Why is she behaving like this?
“Fate, you say?” she asks sharply. “Fate means slipping on a banana peel and breaking your leg. Fate means opening the window in the morning to let in some fresh air and getting hit by a meteorite on the forehead. But what happened to us up there, that’s not called fate.”
“And what is it called?”
“It’s called sheer stupidity!” she suddenly shouts. “That’s what it’s called. Can you tell me what you were doing in the pilot’s cabin?”
Ah, that? So that’s what it was.
“I was craving a cigarette,” I say innocently. “Yes, I openly admit it: I went there to smoke!”
“I see.”
“And to pilot a bit,” I continue amused. “Jean-Louis promised to teach me how to fly.”
“That’s ridiculous!” she shouts again.
“Calm down! What’s wrong with you? Why are you shouting? I didn’t kill the poor guy. He drowned.”
“With a sandwich,” she mutters.
“Offered by me, true. But how was I supposed to know what would happen? Actually… I should have suspected,” I say thoughtfully. “Now that I think about it, the man had bitten his tongue a few hours earlier. Yeah, he had two bumps on his tongue.”
“How do you know that?”
“Oh, well, he was with me the night before. We had a few drinks. Actually, the guy drank… quite a lot, now that I think about it. What a vulgar drunk…”
“You drank with him the night before the flight?”
“A bit. Yes, I was a bit reckless. Now that you mention these things, I see things in a different light. More clearly.”
“Does that mean… you’re not even a tourist, are you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“When and where did you book your flight ticket? Which agency?”
“Ag… agency? What agency? The pilot and I had a little arrangement. I paid on the spot, with cold cash.”
“Fantastic!” she groans. “I’m afraid we don’t have any fate here.”
“But what do we have?”
“Sheer stupidity. Unconsciousness.”
She starts to annoy me. There, you go! My Eva is ungrateful. Yes, indeed! What do you mean? Did she call me stupid? She’s already biting the hand that feeds her? Women, huh.
“Yeah, right. Whatever you say, miss. Do you want another fish?”
“Go to hell with your fish!” she screams angrily. “You’ve killed us all! You! Do you realize that even Doctor Baumgartner died because of you?”
“Was that his name?”
“Yes, Mr. Amateur Pilot, that was his name! Exactly his name!”
“May he rest in peace. I liked the man. Too bad he died.”
From the looks of it, Eva is about to jump at my throat. With her teeth.
“I see you’re quite upset,” I continue, looking at the ground. “Let’s forget it, shall we? Dead men tell no tales, the living move on.”
“Upset? Eva starts to laugh bitterly. Upset is an understatement. I want to kill you right now! I’m sorry I’m so weak, otherwise you would wish you had never ended up on the same island with me. Yes, thank God I’m a woman!”
“A fiery and quarrelsome woman,” I mutter. “But a woman.”
“Are you in the mood for jokes?”
“No.”
“Neither am I, I assure you!”
She turns her back on me and walks away, grumbling like a Greek goddess of fury.
I wipe the sweat off my forehead. Is it just me, or has it gotten cooler? Maybe the weather’s changing. Maybe it’ll rain. Maybe… I killed the poor Frenchman.
Oh, crap! I didn’t kill anyone!
Eva suddenly reappears. I stand up and look at her a bit scared. What’s wrong with her? Is she crazy?
“I wish I never see you again,” she snarls furiously.
“And I wish… I wish…”
“You wish what?”
“I wish I never see myself again,” I say defeated. I’m not particularly fond of myself either.
“I think, for the first time, we agree,” she says, sitting on the sand in front of me.
Between us lies a border made up of sixty-four squares.
“Explain to me how these pieces work,” she says, pointing to the board. “I deduce that these tiny shells are pawns, and the wooden pieces are probably knights. But what about the rooks?”
I start to explain.
What happens next exceeds all imagination. The chessboard becomes our battlefield. I am beaten badly, then I am defeated again, and finally, I am downright crucified on the chessboard. This tiny woman, this girl as big as a matchbox, crushes me at chess.
I need to focus.
I take a deep breath. Hours pass. The Pacific and the beach vanish like steam. There’s fog around me. I see nothing but squares. My whole universe is made up of shell fragments, pieces of wood, and attack and defense strategies.
My German should have been born in Sicily. She’s tougher than a Sicilian mobster. One by one, she sets the most ruthless traps for me. I feel completely idiotic. I end up being fooled every time.
“But I thought I knew how to play chess,” I grumble.
To my embarrassment, I don’t know how to lose like a gentleman. I groan, I protest, I ask for time to think, but I increasingly resemble a worm wriggling in the sand. If every chess match equaled a punch, right now I’d be lying unconscious on the sand, teeth knocked out.
“Let’s play another one! Just one more game!” I beg. “I swear, this time I’ll pay more attention!”
“I’m bored,” she says coldly. “Do you think I enjoy winning all the time?”
“It’s no fun, is it?” I ask, annoyed.
“You’re the weakest chess player I’ve ever met,” she delivers the final blow.
I stand up clenching my jaws. I leave without a word. I throw myself into the waves and take a long bath. I clear my head. Half an hour later, when I return, Eva is still there.
“I’ve cooled off,” I tell her. “Now I think much more clearly. You’re right, a game without stakes can’t be interesting. Let’s play for something.”
“For what?”
Eva stands right in front of me, raising an eyebrow.
“Well? What are we playing for?” she repeats.
“I’ll bet all the fish I’ve caught.”
“And what do I bet?” she asks, smiling. “All the fish I’ve eaten?”
“Nnn… no. I don’t know. Something else… What inventory do you have? Choose something.”
We play for her shirt against my five dried fish. And I lose.
I bet the life jackets, and she bets the wooden crate found on the island. I lose again.
The chess games that follow are the most disappointing in my life. One by one, my belongings melt away. My patrimony disappears. I lost all three sand traps I painstakingly built, then the pouch, then the lighter, and – the final blow – my Mastercard knife.
I feel like howling like a wolf and rolling on the sand. What a shame! I stand up abruptly and run so she won’t see me crying. I’ve lost everything. I’m dirt poor.
This time, it takes me over an hour to come back.
Eva curiously studies the card.
“Tiberiu, what language is this writing here, on the back of the card?”
“In… in the language on the back of the card!” I grumble.
I start rearranging the pieces quickly, and the girl looks at me amazed.
“What’s wrong? Do you still want to play? Are you addicted to games? Are you a compulsive gambler? Don’t tell me you still have the courage to play with me.”
“I’m not telling you.”
This time I’m very careful. Very!
The games last much longer. I lose the shirt. I lose the shorts. In the last game, I even lose my underwear.
“You can keep it!” she mocks when I’m about to take it off. “But remember, I can ask for it back whenever I feel like it. From now on, that underwear is mine! Remember that!”
“I hate you!” I say, clenching my jaws. “I hated you from the moment I saw you! Just so you know.”
“I can’t get enough of that,” she replies, grinning from ear to ear. “Want to play more, loser?”
We divide the island in half, and I lose my half. From being the king of the island, I became just a resident.
“One more! Just one last game and that’s it!” I shout desperately.
“What are we playing now?” she asks innocently. “Any ideas?”
I play like a maniac. Eva is very calm.
In less than ten minutes, the game is over. The result is official: I am her slave for the next seven days.
There used to be democracy on this island!
It’s over!
NEXT
Chapter 25. A Man is Just a Man
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