Chương 41: I ought to be up a rook.

Robin's excitement died as the priest walked through the door. He knew Father Jonás was coming, but he still hoped it would be someone else. He wished it was Duncan or Sandy; he'd have even settled for Vlad. No such luck. Father Jonás wore thick glasses and his white collar protruded from the neck of his paper gown. Tucked under his arm was a bible and a folding chessboard. The strictest isolation was through and Robin was finally back in a regular room. The TV still didn't work.

A whole line of painted birds perched along the windowsill." Buenos días, Robin."" Buenos días, Padre." It felt strange to call him Father. Jonás heard the ice in his voice and paused.

"Is it all right if I sit and talk with you for a bit?"

"Yes, it's all right," Robin said quickly. Una would flay him alive if he offended Father Jonás. The priest took a seat beside the bed.

"I know you'd rather see your friends. But at the moment, it's me or nobody. Clergy and immediate family. Your doctor says you are fighting hard. The nurses say you're a good patient and your manners are excellent. I spoke with your abuela. She's proud of you."

"I'm just lying in bed," Robin shrugged.

"I see you haven't been idle." Jonás pointed to the sill.

"Domingo says that your birds are perfect now. I have visited many people, older than you, in rooms like this. Not everyone was so stoic. You Martillos are tough." Robin listened, wary of where this was going. Eventually, the priest would come around to Jesus. They always did. Father Jonás cleared off the overbed table and began to set up the chessboard. It felt a little presumptuous. He hadn't asked. Just like Una, the padre was old and used to having his way.

"Your abuela came to me to speak about you. Do you know what she said?

'The little pendejo keeps beating me. Help me wipe the smirk off his face.' I took a look at your games. I said: 'Una, you've got a real problem here.' She says you're still beating her, even with all this going on." Father Jonás gestured to the bank of machines. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"She's letting me win," Robin said.

"I don't know. She's very proud. Now, what about you? Are you proud? Do you think you can beat me?" Robin nodded.

"Let's see." Wary, Robin chose his best opening. With ease, Jonás parried everything Robin threw at him and then strangled him in the endgame. The next game, Robin went aggressive and played the Danish Gambit. He got crushed. Ten moves into the third game, Robin was already underwater. He stared at the board and couldn't even tell where he'd gone wrong. Father Jonás was far beyond his skill.

"Good. Very strong," Father Jonás said.

"I'm down two pawns," Robin frowned.

"Sixty-seven years, I've got on you. I ought to be up a rook." It didn't make Robin feel better. Soon, he was in checkmate.

"Good game," Robin held out a hand, though he wasn't supposed to. Jonás shook it.

"You're good, for a beginner. What about your games with your Grandmother? Have you got them written down? Especially ones you lost. They'll teach the most." Robin flipped through the diario and found their matches. They were all there. Even when he was totally out of it, Una had recorded the games so he could add them in later. Some of his moves during the first couple weeks of chemotherapy were almost comically bad. Still, he'd gone over those games, trying to find better moves that could have saved him.

At the bottom of each game, he'd written ideas for better lines. Father Jonás's eyes darted and he mumbled as he studied the moves. He pointed to the last game Robin had lost.

"The Closed López would have been better here. Might have saved that blunder. Una is still sharp."

"Could she beat you?"

"Not in this lifetime. Do you want to know how you can win these games?" Robin did, very much. Father Jonás went through each loss with him. His kind smile faded and he grew razor-sharp. He saw many things Robin had missed. Jonás explained about intermezzos and knight outposts. He spoke of how a center that appeared strong might actually be a liability. Then, he showed Robin three of his favorite games from memory: Capablanca vs. Nimzovich, Fischer vs. Spassky, and Alekheine vs. Lasker.

Robin scrawled the games in his diario so he could study them later. To his surprise, he was sad when visiting hours ended.

"Keep studying. When you're out of this place, I want you to hit that chess club like a meteor. Work hard. Study your lines. Make your abuela proud." Robin thanked Father Jonás for coming, sincerely. It was his first smile of the day. Jesus never came up.