Pawn and Knight

A Chess-The Musical Fanfic

By Auburn Red

Disclaimer: I created Gene, Garret, Sean, and Natalie. Everyone else belongs to Benny Andressen, Bjorn Ulvaeus, and Tim Rice

Author's Note: I know very little about chess, so I am keeping game descriptions to a minimum. I am more interested in the psychology of what happens to young prodigies especially after their glory days are done.

Summary: A car accident leaves Freddie the guardian of Florence and Anatoly's son. How will Freddie cope with becoming a single father? How will the two live together when they are both coming apart at the seams?

Chapter One: The Herd

1984-Of all the questions Freddie Trumper had been asked, this had to be the worst. "Have you two snapped your caps entirely?" Was probably the kindest thing that he could say to the woman in the hospital bed, still clearly tired and messy from the delivery and to the man who was seated on the chair next to his wife. The man smiled a beaming smile as he held the screaming bundle in a blue blanket: the cause of all this commotion and what interrupted Freddie's usual routine of practicing chess, playing chess, drinking coffee, studying chess moves, and bed while dreaming about chess. "You're kidding right?"

"No," Florence Vassy-Sergievsky said from her bed. "We want to know if you will be his godfather."

"His godfather," Freddie repeated incredulously. "Why are you asking me of all people? Have you run out of more qualified serial killers?"

"Freddie," Anatoly Sergievsky said patiently. "We are not asking you to raise him. We are only asking you to acknowledge him."

Freddie looked closely at him then back at the couple. "There, I acknowledged him done!"

"It is more than that," Anatoly said. "We are also asking you to take care of him should anything happen to us."

"Yeah it's the 'anything that happens to us' part I got a problem with,". Freddie said. "Come on I'm sure other people can do this better than me. What about Svetlana? She already has kids." Freddie referred to Anatoly's ex wife. The two divorced and married other people, but for their daughters's sake, the divorce remained cordial, even if they lived in countries that were on opposite sides of the Cold War.

"We want him to remain in the United States," Anatoly said patiently "away from the Communists." Now, that Anatoly was finally able to defect and live in the U.S. with the woman he really loved, he had no intention of repeating those days with his newborn son now that the little boy had the chance to grow up free.

"What about your father, Florence?" Freddie asked.

"The same reason," Florence said. "Plus, I only just reunited with him in the past couple of years and I don't want to burden him with the responsibility."

"Oh but you don't mind burdening me," Freddie said. "You know a pack of wolves have great parental instinct!"

"Freddie," Florence corrected in that tone when she knew her former boyfriend and current close friend was often hiding what he really felt. "You'll do fine. Now do you want to hold him?"

Freddie at first refused, but then he warily stuck out his hands. Anatoly gently laid the newborn in his hands telling him to keep his hand on the boy's head to balance him. Freddie held him as far away as possible.

"Freddie, he's a baby, not a bomb," Florence said.

"Yeah well this is how I would hold either one," Freddie said. He slowly drew the newborn closer and looked straight at him.

The baby looked up at this stranger with big blue eyes that clearly said "who?" His eyes were wide and wondering. His mouth hung open and shut. This little one fascinated Freddie. Here was this little thing, a blank slate, an empty page with no experience, no memories good or bad, no cynicism. At that moment he was perfect.

Freddie smiled at the newborn whose mouth turned upward and smiled back. "So the little guy got a name?"

"We are calling him Eugene Gregor Frederick Vassey-Sergievsky," Florence answered.

"Eugene or Yevgeny for my father and Gregor for Florence's," Anatoly replied. "And of course Frederick for our closest friend and his godfather, if he wishes to be."

Freddie's eyes shone touched at the tribute but couldn't resist a comment.

"So Gene then," Freddie said realizing what a mouthful the whole name would be.

There was a quiet moment as Freddie continued to hold the little one until Gene's face scrunched up and he began to cry. Instantly, Freddie panicked. "What'd I do? What'd I do? Get him off! Get him off!"

Anatoly gently took the newborn out of his godfather's hands and put him back in his mother's. Florence unbuttoned her hospital gown and let Gene suckle on her breast.

Anatoly and Freddie exchanged smiles at this tender moment between mother and baby.

"So will you?" Florence asked.

Freddie shrugged. "Yeah sure, why not. Just do me a favor."

"What?" Florence asked.

"Never die," Freddie said. "Agree that you will live forever."

Anatoly and Florence laughed. "Sure Freddie, anything you say." Florence said sarcastically.

1995-The cab pulled into the affluent Nassau County neighborhood. Freddie paid the cab driver and exited by the garage behind the two new cars. He picked up the birthday present as the cab drive away. The white house in front of him looked like all the others with it's finally cut lawn, rows of flowers underneath the window, and the two-door garage. It was so suburban America that it made Freddie gag.

A blur in the shape of an eleven year old boy on a blue ten-speed bike whizzed by before stopping in front of the house. "Hi Uncle Freddie," Gene Vassy-Sergievsky greeted his godfather with a big warm hug. Gene had his father's fair curly hair but his mother's dark intellectual eyes and warm round features. He was a very lanky young boy, bright, optimistic, outgoing, and highly intelligent. Freddie normally kept away from kids, but his godson was an exception. He adored the little guy and treated him like a favorite kid brother.

"Hi Geno," Freddie said returning the hug.

"Look what Mom and Dad got me!" He announced looking at the bike.

"It looks great," Freddie said.

"They also got me a Super NES and Link's Awakening. Want to play it with me later?" Gene asked.

"Hey it's your birthday, so why not," Freddie asked. He wasn't interested in video games but he enjoyed hanging out with his godson. "I guess with that loot, you don't need this." Freddie pretended to hold onto the wrapped present as if to take it back.

"No I want it," Gene said. He ripped open the present and gasped with delight at the new soccer ball. "Oh wow, this is what I wanted! Thanks Uncle Freddie!"

"Anytime, Kiddo," Freddie said. "Where are your folks?"

"They're inside," Gene said leading his godfather into the house. He called, "Mom, Dad, Uncle Freddie is here and look what he got me!"

Freddie trailed the young boy and faced the smiling couple who rose to greet their visitor. "Knock knock Florence," Freddie playfully knocked on the inside door. "It's the man you wished you married."

Florence rose and hugged her male friend. "Like you would have ever wanted to marry me. I don't even remember the subject ever coming up."

"It was implied," Freddie teased. He then greeted Anatoly who gave the small American a big bear hug. "Get your hands off me, you crazy Russian." Freddie laughed.

"That is crazy American citizen to you," Anatoly replied with a laugh.

"Right, right I forgot," Freddie said. "You actually wanted to live here." Anatoly Sergievsky took the Immigration Citizenship Exam and had finally received his official citizenship status the previous year. It was a proud moment for himself, his wife, and son.

"Hey Uncle Freddie can I show you some of the passes that I learned with my new ball?" Gene asked.

"Sure kid," Freddie said following his parents out the back door.

The three adults sat on the patio furniture as the boy kicked the ball with his feet then kicked it towards the goal. His parents and godfather applauded.

"Really good, honey," Florence called. "He enjoys playing with that soccer ball." She said to Freddie. "Thank you for getting it for him."

"Yeah he does," Freddie said. "Hey Mom, why did I get him a soccer ball?"

"Because I asked you to and because he wanted it," Florence reminded him.

"But why did he want one?" Freddie asked.

"Because he joined the Hawks soccer team this past semester," Anatoly said referring to Gene's school team. "He wanted to practice at home during the summer."

Freddie shook his head as though they told him that Gene had become a juvenile delinquent. "My own godson has become a jock. I will never live down the shame. Why couldn't I have gotten him a chess set?"

"Because he's not interested in chess," Florence answered matter of factly.

Freddie gasped mockingly. "I have no godson," he said mimicking the rabbi father in The Jazz Singer.

"We tried playing it with him, and he likes it but he likes other things better," Anatoly replied. "He has other interests."

"There's more to life than chess, Freddie," Florence pointed out.

Freddie clutched his heart pretending like he was wounded. "I am going to pretend that you did not say that. I don't know who you two are anymore." Florence and Anatoly rolled their eyes and suppressed a grin at their friend's melodramatic gestures.

"Is this 'more to life than chess' the reason why you haven't enrolled Gene in the Advancement Enrichment program classes in the brochures that I sent you?" Freddie asked.

The married couple exchanged glances. "Wait aren't those the papers that we threw away?" Anatoly asked.

"I think so," Florence replied. "Freddie we have been over this. We don't want him to join those programs."

"Why not?" Freddie asked. "His I.Q. test showed that he's a genius level. He has made all A's since Kindergarten. The kid's got a lot of special qualities. He's a genius kid and you don't want to show that."

"Yes he's a genius," Florence said. "But he's also a kid and that's what we want him to be. A normal well-adjusted happy kid with friends, and school, and activities."

"Well he's not a normal kid," Freddie said. "Not with adults like us around. He inherited your brains and it's about time he showed that. Gene has more potential than to be one of the herd out here in suburbia like every other kid from every other family."

"You know Freddie," Anatoly said evenly. "You may scoff at our life out here in Long Island, but there are many who would long for a life like this with the big house and yard and two cars. God knows that I did. There are some who would give anything to have a life like this."

"I would have given anything for someone to notice my genius at his age," Freddie said. Florence knew. Freddie was ignored by his disappeared father and his mother who cared more about her boyfriends than the chess prodigy that she gave birth to. It took Freddie moving out and revealing his own talents to the world for his genius to be recognized.

"We understand that Freddie," Florence said. "But don't you remember how much pressure it was on us at that age? Don't you think that it had some negative consequences on us and who we became as adults?" She didn't add, especially you but Freddie knew that's what she meant. Honestly, Freddie didn't want that for Gene either: for him to become a socially awkward, lonely, obsessed, reclusive adult. For him to become Freddie Trumper: someone who can only find happiness vicariously through his married friends.

"Remember '86 St. Louis?" Florence said.

Freddie winced remembering the year that ended his professional chess career forever and led to his seclusion. "We don't want something like that to ever happen to Gene. Freddie, let Anatoly and I decide what's best for our son," Florence said.

"Fine whatever," Freddie sighed realizing that this was a losing battle.

"Is that why you two stopped playing chess?" Freddie asked. "You wanted to be normal?"

"We still play sometimes and we implement it in our lives," Anatoly reminded him. "I am working on that book on Game Theory in Mathematical Studies."

"And I am writing a book on the strategies with political figures that I never would have thought of if I hadn't played chess," Florence said. Anatoly and Florence were professors in Mathematics and Political Science respectively at Long Island University but they never lost the lessons they learned from their days on the chessboard. "Anyway, you gave up on chess."

"Hey, I didn't give up on chess," Freddie corrected. "Professional Chess gave up on me." Since '86, he thought. "I still play amateurishly, play against myself, and study the moves. It beats the tedium of work." Freddie worked in the Federal Depository, City Archives, and Records Department in Central Manhattan for the past seven years. It was a soul crushingly boring job, but it gave Freddie the anonymity that he craved. No one bothered him unless they needed to find a record or file and Freddie grew to memorize the entire contents much to the amazement of his co-workers, usually work study college students, and his boss, Dr. Simon Ledbetter. "It's still in my life, I am just not in the public getting paid for it." He nodded inside where he knew that a chessboard sat in the living room, just like his at his Manhattan apartment, set out with the most recent moves waiting for another round. "What say we find out who still knows the most about chess?"

Just then, Gene ended his one man soccer game. "Mom, Dad, what time is the cake ready?"

Anatoly looked at his watch. "Actually, it's just about time for me to pick it up. It will be about an hour."

"Okay, can I play Zelda until then?" Gene asked.

Florence nodded. "Sure. I'll call you when it's ready."

"'Kay, see ya Dad," Gene called as he tossed the ball up and down on his hands and flew inside. Anatoly waved goodbye at his son and stood up.

Anatoly leaned down and kissed his wife on the lips. "I will be back soon. Bye, Vlozeblyulennaya, beloved."

"Bye, Honey Dearest," Freddie impishly called back.

"And Florence apparently," Anatoly said dryly.

Florence laughed and shook her head. "See you later." She said.

Anatoly left and Freddie accompanied Florence into the house. He pointed at the chessboard. "Now, how about that game?"

"Actually, Freddie, there is a favor that I need to ask you, well two of them," Florence said.

Freddie's eyes widened as he walked closer to Florence, attempting a seductive grin. "What kind of favor and do we have to tell your husband?"

"Actually, one of them was Anatoly's idea," Florence said.

"Well he is getting broad minded," Freddie said coming closer. Florence put her hand on his chest to stop him. "Not that kind of favor, you moron."

"Okay what then," Freddie asked.

"Okay the first one is," Florence began. "There's this girl that works at my department Lisa," Freddie rolled his eyes. He knew where this was going. "You'll like her, she's really nice and smart, single. She just moved into town. I thought maybe you would like to show her around."

"Jesus, Florence," Freddie complained. "This is the fourth time that you and Anatoly have tried to set me up, second girl after two guys. What makes this one any different from the others?"

"We thought maybe you might want to share a drink and get to know each other," she said. "It doesn't have to lead to anything."

"No, here's what it will lead to," Freddie predicted. "I'll make some comment that will offend her or she will do something that I will find super annoying. We get into a fight and we go home in separate cabs. Man or woman, that's how it always ends."

"Freddie, if you give somebody a chance, you might find that you like her or him," Florence suggested.

"Florence you used to complain about having to fix my life when we were going out," Freddie said. "Now what, you're married and suddenly you want to fix it again."

"Freddie, you're still my friend," Florence said. "I just don't want you to be lonely."

"Hon, I'm not lonely okay, I go out.. sometimes," he said. "Florence, I am finally at the point where I like my life as it is. I go out, go to work, and do my thing. My apartment is arranged just the way I like it, clean with no messes. Everything is in it's right place. I don't have to be in the public, I can just hide away."

"Manhattan is a really strange place to hide from the public," Florence said.

"Actually, it's the best place to hide," Freddie objected. "You are one of over six million faces, just going off and minding your own business. Most people don't know or care who Freddie Trumper is or was. I'm not the type to be holed up in Iceland somewhere, so I hide out in plain sight."

Florence nodded realizing how Freddie changed from the glory seeking money hungry attention whore that he once was.

These days, he went the opposite extreme: someone who hated publicity and guarded his privacy like a secret agent on assignment. No one broke through that wall of seclusion except Florence, Anatoly, and Gene and even they barely did. Florence supposed that's what that disastrous run in 1986 did to him.

A few disasterous public appearances and interviews, quotes taken out of context and used by power hungry right wing fanatics as examples for their agenda, a savage losing streak, losing all his money to the unscrupulous Walter de Courcey, and a public nervous breakdown during his final match did that to him.

Freddie could only get through that ordeal with Florence and Anatoly's care and friendship, but even they had their limits. After the breakdown, his best and only friends threatened that either he commit himself and get psychiatric help or he would never see his beloved then two year old godson again. That was the moment when Freddie realized how much Florence, Anatoly, and Gene grew to mean to him, that they could rescue him from the abyss and make him look at himself.

Freddie Trumper's career transformed him from a plucky unknown, to a success story, to a hero, to a star, to a legend, to a villain, to a punchline, to a has-been, and finally to a recluse. Was it any wonder that Florence and Anatoly didn't want to see that happen to their son, to follow that same trajectory that Freddie jumped into feet first?

Freddie continued. "Look, Florence I kid you and Anatoly about your life out here in the 'burbs, but I'm happy for you. I really am. You are the King and Queen in your Rook and Castle. You got good jobs, a great kid, the big house, the friends, the shopping centers, the get togethers, the barbecues, PTA's, the nice circle of friends, the vacations in Montauk, and the cars that say 'I'm the Proud Parent of an Alexander Hamilton Middle School Honor Student.' After all, the Hell that you two have been through, you deserve it. You earned it. It's the America that you wanted and you got it. That's great and that's you. That's not me and it's never going to be. You have your lives and I got mine. I'm okay with just being a part of it, just the Knight who rides up on occasion."

"You are, Freddie, you are a part of it and we're glad you are," Florence agreed. She gave him a quick hug which he returned. "Okay, I promise no more setting you up."

"Thank you," Freddie gave a grateful dramatic sigh of relief.

"Actually, if he doesn't mind, the Knight has another task of which the Queen would like to ask a favor," Florence said.

Freddie did a lavish bow. "Name the task, Your Majesty."

"Something was bothering Gene yesterday and he didn't want to talk about it with us. He said that you might understand."

"Does he need 'The Talk'", Freddie said. "Because I am beginning to forget the details."

"His father already gave him that one," Florence said. "Gene specifically said that he wanted to talk to you, not us."

Freddie turned around and headed for the stairs. "Time to do my godfatherly routine." He walked upstairs and knocked on Gene's door."Geno, it's Uncle Freddie."

The door opened as Gene waved his godfather inside. Freddie stepped over the clothes, papers and other items spread out on the floor. He smirked as he saw the celebrity posters, mostly of Alternative bands that he never heard of. "Hey Kiddo, I think you said something about a game, Blink's Awakening?"

Gene rolled his eyes. "Link's Awakening, it's a Legend of Zelda game," Gene said. He moved aside to make room on the bed for his uncle and handed him the other controller. He explained the object of the game and gave him basic instructions on which buttons to push.

Freddie nodded at the character on the screen. "So that's Zelda?"

"No," Gene said in a tone like that was a dumb question. "He's Link, the hero." He pointed at the female featured in the game book. "That's Zelda."

"She's kind of pretty," Freddie said.

"She's okay, I guess," Gene said. He looked at the screen. "But Link's my favorite character. He's brave, and heroic," Gene said that in such a way that if he were a girl, Freddie would have no doubt how Gene felt about the character.

"And good looking?" Freddie prompted.

"Yeah," Gene said. Then he realized that his godfather was listening. "I mean no!" Freddie nodded, understanding that Gene was nervous and uncertain about his sexuality. Freddie had been there and now realized that while he had sexual feelings for men and women, now, he wasn't interested in either which also contributed to his current dateless life.

The two continued to play as Freddie encountered his first battle. "Okay now die you little monsters! No out of the way, you stupid fairy no one cares what you have to say! I got ya, you little bastards!" He threw down the controller as Link lay on the ground. "Ah, the agony of defeat!"

"Good game, good game," Gene said sarcastically.

"Alright, you're so smart you do it then," Freddie said. Gene grinned and opened his file taking out the monster and two others afterwards giving his godfather an arrogant winning grin worthy of Freddie Trumper's godson.

Freddie sniffed contemptuously. "Well, I cleared the way for you."

They played a bit more when Freddie tapped on the edge of the controller. "So, Geno, your Mom said something was bugging you and you wanted to talk to me."

"Yeah, um," Gene said. "Well, you and Mom used to be a thing right?"

"Well yeah about a hundred years ago when we played chess with Abraham Lincoln during the Civil War," Freddie joked. "I'm not sure but I think slavery was a big issue then."

"I'm serious," Gene said.

"Well yeah we were a couple," Freddie said.

"How do you feel about each other now?" Gene asked.

"Uh well um, I don't know why you're asking but we're still good friends, but I don't know but she's more like a sister to me now. In a way, she always was more like a sister than a girlfriend. I just never realized it before we went to Bangkok."

"And Dad and Svetlana, what about them?" Gene asked.

"I don't know, Gene," Freddie said. "I don't see them together often, but I guess they are still friends. If they loved each other, they'd still be married. Why are you asking so many questions?"

Gene looked at the TV for a long time before answering. "Well Nathan, this kid at school, his parents got divorced and his father left him and his mother for another woman. And other kids' parents get divorced and-"

Freddie nodded. "And you are afraid lightning strikes twice in the 'burbs? You want to know the signs from a kid whose folks split up?"

Gene shrugged. "You are looking for signs like if your parents are interested in someone else rather than each other. Instead of asking your Dad, who's actually been through a divorce, you want to hear from your favorite neutral third party."

Gene hesitated and then nodded. "What if it happens to me?"

Freddie put his arm around the boy. "Do your parents fight a lot?"

"No," Gene said. "I mean sometimes they argue about stuff like their theories or facts. Like they argued about some citation from their research and what it meant.."

"Yeah that comes up often in divorce documents," Freddie teased.

"This morning Dad was looking for his keys and Mom said that if they were hanging on the hook like they should be, he wouldn't have to be looking for them." Gene said.

"Florence Vassy-Sergievsky, second in chess first in nagging," Freddie said sarcastically.

"But he found them and they apologized later," Gene continued.

"But they don't fight about big stuff like money or time spent with you or each other do they?," Freddie asked. "They don't throw things and call each other nasty names do they?"

Gene shook his head. "No, in any language." Because of his parents' Russian and Hungarian background, Gene became fairly fluent in both languages though his Russian was much better. Hungarian was a lot harder.

"You're not afraid to ask them for help or anything, I mean until now of course," Freddie asked. "They don't spend all day wrapped up in their own problems making you feel like it's your fault and you don't want to ask do you?" Just in case they said yes, Freddie thought bitterly.

"No,"Gene said.

"There you are then see," Freddie said. "Geno, parents fight. Sometimes, they do get divorced but just because it happens to other kid's parents doesn't mean that it will happen to you. Believe me when my folks split up, they left no room for doubt."

"But Nathan's parents barely fought and then one day, his dad just up and left," Gene said.

"Look, Geno, I don't know this kid and I don't know his parents," Freddie said. "But I know yours. Believe me, the way your Mom and Dad look at and talk to each other. Well your Mom never did that for me. They still love each other, after all these years. They're not going to get divorced anytime soon." Gene was about to object. "You know what, let's assume, worst case scenario, that happens and they do get divorced. Your parents love you and they aren't the type that will put their needs over yours. They would try to make it as easy and as amicable as possible. Any of their plans would certainly include you and you would still be in their lives. Your dad still has Svetlana and his daughters in his life doesn't he?" Gene nodded. "There you are and they won't be any different. But I don't think it will happen with them. They love each other and you too much. They're sickening that way."

Freddie made a face to make his godson laugh. "Thanks, Uncle Freddie."

Freddie gave the boy a hug. "Anytime, Kiddo. It's what I am here for."

The two continued to play until they heard Florence's voice call out. "Your father's here with the cake," she called. Freddie and Gene abandoned the game and ran downstairs.

Anatoly entered with a pink box in one hand. Florence delicately balanced the cake in her hands."You have it?" He asked his wife.

"I got it," Florence said as her husband closed the door. The married couple looked at each other in the eyes and smiled lovingly for a moment. Freddie elbowed Gene as if to say see I told you so as Florence and Anatoly walked into the kitchen and lit the candles. Gene smiled as his parents and godfather sang "Happy Birthday to You."

At work, Freddie handed a probate file to the law student who asked for it. Dr. Ledbetter then placed a cardboard box filled with papers. "More from the Goldman Family Archives. I need you to sort, catalog, collate, and file these by Friday."

"Sure thing boss," Freddie said with a flippant salute. He opened the box and glanced through the hundreds of papers. Over six million people in this city and they have to leave their junk with us, Freddie thought. He put on a pair of white gloves, took the box to a table, and opened the box. He glanced at the first file and marked the information on computer of who it was about, the date it was sent, the number of the file, and the summary of the content.

"I tell you he won't know," Freddie heard the voice of a brunette female student worker talking to another.

"Sure he will, watch," the other one, a blond, said. "Hey Freddie,"

Freddie barely looked up from his paperwork. One student worker, Darcy, had short wispy blond hair and a nose ring. The other, Kim, had brown hair cut in the Rachel style. Both of them wore spaghetti strapped tanks and tight jeans, apparently the standard work uniforn for the younger generation.

"Student Worker," Freddie barely acknowledged Darcy. "Other Student Worker," he did the same to Kim. He knew their names but he maintained a reputation of being closed off, testy, and pompous. It kept people away from him.

"Somebody called to find out the Dow report for six months before the Crash in '87," Darcy said. "What do I tell him?"

Freddie rolled his eyes. Sometimes the student workers teased Freddie knowing how he memorized the contents of the archives. It became a game with them trying to trip him up. Even Dr. Ledbetter didn't know all of them.

Freddie pointed at the files without looking up from his work. "Vertical file 43, Row Three, WSJ Book 1.87 and 2.8, Back Issues: January-June and July-August 1987, Second pages, first column down. You might also check NYT, Vertical File 12 Row 4, Book 98, Same months and year, Financial Section Pages 3, First column. If they want to see the trajectory of the stocks that actually fell in October, they're on Line 13-18 in the WSJ and 12-17 in NYT. Check the WSJ first. They're more accurate."

Darcy headed right for the Wall Street Journal back issues and pointed the information out to her friend. Kim's eyes widened in surprise. "Amazing, how come you don't go on Jeopardy?" Kim asked.

"Because Jeopardy is for morons," Freddie countered.

The girls laughed and left to do their who knew what. Their Gen X things, Freddie guessed as he returned to his work.

"Freddie," a voice called from the stairs. "You have a phone call from an Anthony Sergievsky."

Because the Archives were in the lowest floor, a refurbished basement, phone reception was spotty at best so if any employees received a call, it had to come from the main office upstairs. "Anatoly, Rose," Freddie corrected. "Anatoly." He started, why would Anatoly call in the middle of the day? "Leave a message."

"He says it's an emergency," Rose answered.

"I'm coming," Freddie said.

Freddie practically leapt up the stairs and picked up the phone. "What line, Rose?"

"Two," Rose answered.

Freddie pressed the second line and shot back. "Anatoly, what is it? I'm in the middle of something."

"Freddie," just the sound of his name made Freddie tense with apprehension. The normally unflappable calm former Russian sounded emotional and broken. "Come quickly, I need to see you right away."

"Where are you?" Freddie asked.

"South Oaks Hospital," Anatoly said.

Freddie's heart leapt in his throat. "What happened?"

Anatoly could barely be understood, he was so emotional and sounded in pain. "There was an accident with our car. It swerved to avoid other car and hit divider. Florence, Florence…" Anatoly couldn't finish, because he was so overcome.

"Florence, what about Florence, Anatoly?" Freddie began to get hysterical.

"Freddie just come," Anatoly begged.

"Okay, I'm on my way," Freddie promised as he hung up the phone. He yelled to Dr. Ledbetter that there was an emergency and he had to take the afternoon off.

Freddie practically jetted through the hospital until he reached the reception desk. He was out of breath as he said, "I'm here for Anatoly Sergievsky."

The nurse looked at her records and glanced at him. "Yes, he's in Intensive Care Room 17, down the hall to the right."

"Thanks," Freddie said as he approached the room.

Freddie felt his heart stop as he saw his friend lay in the hospital bed tied to tubes. His face was cut and bruised and he was wearing a neck brace. He winced clearly in pain.

"Anatoly," Freddie said.

Anatoly's eyes opened and he faced his friend. "Freddie, you are here. I hoped that you would come before-"

"How are you doing?" Freddie asked sitting in the chair across from his injured friend.

"Under circumstances I have been better," Anatoly tried to joke.

Freddie managed to smile. "Where's Florence?"

Anatoly's eyes filled and his lip quivered. "She was killed instantly. She died on impact."

Freddie couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What?" He shook his head. His breath caught in his throat and he felt hollow. Anatoly's words echoed in his head. Florence Vassey, his best friend, former second, ex-lover, his sister by heart was dead? It just couldn't be possible.

"She went instantly," Anatoly said trying to find some way to comfort his friend. "They said she probably suffered no pain."

Freddie scoffed. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"It didn't make me feel better either when they told me," Anatoly agreed.

"Dammit, you have two cars why were you in the same damn one?" Freddie asked.

"We had problems with the steering wheel on Florence's car, so we carpooled with mine," Anatoly replied.

Anatoly then clenched in such pain that Freddie had to hold his hand to calm him down. "It's okay, Red, I'm here. What's happening?"

"I have internal bleeding and hemmorhaging," Anatoly said.

"Nurse, nurse!" Freddie yelled. "Dammit, why aren't they doing something for you, operating on you? Nurse!"

When a nurse entered, Freddie started making commands. "Can't you see my friend is in pain, do something dammit!"

"They already have," Anatoly said.

Freddie sank back in the chair as the nurse explained that extensive surgery had already been done on Mr. Sergievsky and now the only thing that they can do is give him something to ease his pain in his final hours.

As the nurse left, Anatoly said. "This is the Endgame, Freddie and now I have one favor to ask."

"What?" Freddie asked.

"Take Gene," Anatoly asked. "Care for him, raise him. Be the father to him that I cannot."

"I-I-won't have to," Freddie said. "You're going to get out of here. You and Florence-uh I mean you are getting out of here. Going back to the house in the 'burbs with the herd. You're going because that's who you are!"

"No Freddie," Anatoly said. "Please do what I say, swear it!"

Freddie nodded, tears filling his eyes. "Yeah, okay of course."

"Thank you," Anatoly smiled. "The Cold War is over and we are friends. I like that we are friends."

Freddie nodded, "Yeah me too."

Anatoly hemmorhaged in intense pain as Freddie held his hands and tried to give him comforting words. "Good-bye my friend," Anatoly said his voice barely a whisper.

Anatoly gave another cry of pain but then stopped. Freddie bit his lip and tried to keep the tears from falling. He knew now that like his wife, Anatoly Sergievsky, was no longer in pain. "Dasvedanya, Comrade," Freddie whispered to his now deceased friend.

Freddie felt like his body lived for itself as he walked into the front office of Alexander Hamilton Middle School. The loss of his two best friends was still trying to sink in. Everything felt surreal like he was walking into a dream. He approached the receptionist. "Hi, I'm here to pick up, Eugene Vassy-Sergievsky." His voice was flat, monotone, devoid of energy.

The receptionist, a young dark haired woman peered at him through her large glasses. "Are you a relative?"

"No, I'm his godfather," Freddie said. "I'm his 'in case of emergency and parents can't be reached please notify' person."

"Alright we need to see some I.D.," the receptionist said. As if expecting an argument, she explained. "It's in case strangers or non custodial parents try to kidnap the child."

"Fine, fine whatever," Freddie said as he showed her his driver's license.

She looked at the license without commenting and returned it. "Reason for picking him up?"

Freddie took a deep breath. "Do I really need to say why?"

"We can't let the child go without knowing the reason behind it," the receptionist replied.

Freddie sighed. "His parents were in a car accident and now they're dead, is that reason enough for you?" He snapped.

The receptionist gasped and picked up the phone. "Ms. Leroy, we have a situation here….The Sergievsky boy's parents were killed. I'm calling him to the office now….He's in Mr. Feldman sixth hour Math...His godfather, Frederick Trumper, is here. Okay, thanks."

She reached for the intercom as a heavyset African-American woman emerged from the office.

"Mr. Trumper," she said. She took out her hand and Freddie shook it. "I'm Letitia Leroy, the principal. We have an unofficial policy in place in case of the death of a family member, because this is hard for children but also family members. Myself or one of the faculty like to be on hand. Would you step into my office?"

Freddie followed her inside and invited him to have a seat. Freddie's voice was hollow and far away. "I haven't been sent to the principal's office since I was a kid."

Ms. Leroy smiled in a way that said 'like I haven't heard that one before.' "I am very sorry for your loss, Mr. Trumper. I take it you were related to Mrs. Sergievsky?"

"Actually, neither," Freddie said. "We were just friends, best friends." Only friends, Freddie thought.

"Would you like some water, Mr. Trumper?" Ms. Leroy asked.

"No it's okay," Freddie said in the same monotone.

Ms. Leroy closely looked at him. "Mr. Trumper-Trumper, any relation to the chess player?"

Freddie sighed not even having the strength to be annoyed. "Actually, I am the chess player."

"You were quite the legend-" Ms. Leroy began wanting to compliment him to break the ice.

"-In my day," Freddie repeated. "I was quite the legend in my day."

The principal blinked in embarrassment. "I didn't mean-"

Freddie shook his head. "It's alright, I'm used to it."

Ms. Leroy continued to the important subject "Mr. Trumper, I want you to know that Eugene and his parents were a credit to our school. Eugene is a brilliant polite student with a great academic record. His parents were very involved in his education and in the PTA. They were good brilliant people and will be missed."

"They already are," Freddie whispered.

"You should be proud," Ms. Leroy said.

"I am thanks," Freddie answered.

The phone rang as the receptionist's voice came through the speakerphone. "Eugene Vassy-Sergievsky is here."

"Send him in," Ms. Leroy said.

The office door opened and Eugene was surprised to see not only Ms. Leroy but his godfather. "Uncle Freddie, what are you doing here?" He saw how serious he looked. "What's wrong?"

Eugene waved for the boy to sit down. The grown ups exchanged a look that said do you want to tell him or shall I? Freddie raised his hand and turned to his godson.

"Geno, I got a call from your Dad and he and your Mom-there's been an accident. Oh Christ, son, they're both dead."

Eugene instantly paled and his mouth dropped open. He looked from his godfather to the principal and back again. "No, no," he said. Tears filled his eyes. "You're lying! It's not true!"

"Geno, it is true I wouldn't lie about something like this," Freddie said trying to keep his voice firm and steady.

Eugene sprang up and headed for the door. "Where are you going?"

Freddie asked.

"I'm going to find my Mom and Dad! I want my Mom and Dad!" He tried to open the door but Freddie slammed it shut and held the boy in his arms.

"Eugene Gregor Frederick Vassy-Sergievsky," Freddie shook the boy and then held him in his arms. Gene sobbed onto his godfather's shoulder holding on for dear life.

"I want my Mom and Dad," Eugene sobbed.

Freddie just allowed the boy to cry in his arms. Ms. Leroy stood up from behind her desk and approached the two. "You can take as much time off from school as you need to, Eugene. It's so late in the year that you can wait until Fall to start up again."

Freddie nodded thanks as he cradled his 11-year-old godson in his arms.

Freddie unlocked the door to the Vassy-Sergievsky home. He remembered how he teased them about the big house. Now it seemed so empty without Florence and Anatoly. He half expected Florence to be on her computer or Anatoly to be poured over a book. But that wasn't going to happen ever again.

Freddie wearily led Gene up to his room and held the pill bottle that he bought at the pharmacy in his hand. "You want me to make you something to eat?" He asked.

"No," Gene said. The boy flopped on the bed as Freddie assisted him with taking off his shoes and socks.

"The nurse said you should probably take these to help you sleep," Freddie opened the bottle of diphenhydramine. He gave the boy two pills and a bottled water then he arose."Uncle Freddie, where are you going?"

"I'm just downstairs, kiddo, if you need me." Freddie said slowly.

Freddie ambled downstairs looking at the photographs, memorabilia, and decorations that he had seen a hundred times but now seemed new to him. The Hungarian miniatures that Florence collected, the nesting dolls that reminded Anatoly of his old home. The Russian and Hungarian art.

Freddie spent a long time staring at their wedding photo. He laughed remembering how confused the priest was when they had to explain that the best man was the bride's ex-boyfriend and the matron of honor was the groom's ex-wife. ("He acts like he's never seen a soap opera or heard of a rock band before," Freddie quipped.) He walked downstairs and fingered the chess set. He picked up the white King and Queen and squeezed them tightly in his hand. He then lay them down next to each other. "The King and Queen are dead," he whispered. He looked upwards, the irony didn't miss him by. "Long live the King...please."

Freddie sank down on the couch and ran his hands through his hair. There was so much that he had to do. He had to make funeral arrangements, call Florence and Anatoly's friends, neighbors, and co-workers. He had to get in touch with Svetlana and Gregor. How were they going to take it, especially Gregor? Last Florence told him, the old man had a stroke and preferred to live in Hungary than adjust to a new life in America. The news of his only child's death could finish him off.

He also had to think of other things. Freddie couldn't stay at this Nassau County house. It was too far from his workplace not to mention that he couldn't afford it. He lived in a shoebox apartment that barely was large enough for one person. He needed to get a bigger apartment for him and Eugene to live in and those weren't easy to come by in Manhattan. Maybe they could move to one of the other boroughs, Brooklyn maybe. That would mean Gene would have to change schools. Erasmus Hall, Freddie's old school closed down and became five separate schools. Should he enroll Gene there? Were the teachers there still idiots? How was Gene going to get by? What did Freddie need to do for him? How would Freddie do as a guardian, better than his own parents (which wasn't saying much)?

So many questions in Freddie's head, but Freddie couldn't move and couldn't even fathom how to start answering them. He was too paralyzed. His legs moved up and he hugged them. He lay on the couch in a fetal position. He couldn't imagine his life without Florence and Anatoly. They were his rudders, his anchors. They kept him grounded and from floating off into a million directions. Now, without them, he was left just floating along. Freddie felt like he was caught in an endless sea with no land in sight. All he could do was frantically try to stay afloat. But the more he tried, the more exhausted he felt. He just wanted to stop and drown.

He remembered how in 1986 when he was at his lowest point and Florence and Anatoly pulled him out of the abyss before it stared back and welcomed him into the yawning black chasm Niestchze spoke about. Now, he was back at the edge of the abyss and there was no Florence or Anatoly to pull him out.

A scream broke Freddie from his paralysis. Freddie jumped up and ran upstairs and opened the door to Gene's room.

Freddie scooped his godson up in his arms and rocked him back and forth. "Nightmare?" He asked. In his arms, Gene nodded. "Your parents?"

Gene nodded and retched. "I think I'm going to be sick." He stood up and ran to the bathroom. Freddie followed him and patted him on the back as the boy vomited into the toilet bowl.

Freddie then led the boy back to his room. "I'm scared, Uncle Freddie. I miss them!"

"I know, Kid, I miss them too," he said. He kissed the top of his head. "I'm going to tell you something, Geno, we're going to miss them forever but we got to keep going. We aren't getting anywhere staying in one place. We have to just keep moving forward."

"I don't want to," Gene said.

"I know, I don't either but we got to," Freddie said. "You just lean on me and I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you enough for both your parents."

"What's going to happen to us, Uncle Freddie?" Gene asked.

Freddie rubbed the boy's back and shoulders and kissed his hair. "I don't know. All I can promise you is that you can ask me anything or for help anytime. I will never leave you or ignore you. I will never make you feel that my problems are your fault, because they won't be. When you do right, I will be proud. When you do wrong, I will be there to pick you up and help you try again. When you call, I will always pick up the phone and know it's you. Okay?"

"Okay," Gene said.

Freddie Trumper knew that he had to be the anchor now. He had a new job to do, keeping his godson afloat. He was now Eugene Gregor Frederick Vassy-Sergievsky's guardian and he was going to be. He would be Gene's mother and father. He could repay the favor that Florence and Anatoly gave him when they pulled him from the abyss by making sure that their son didn't fall into it.

In all his years playing chess, Freddie proved to the world that he was determined and never quit once he started a game. Well, Freddie Trumper wasn't going to quit now. He was going to be the strong one and take care of this boy. The Pawn wasn't always sacrificed. Sometimes the Knight protected him. Freddie was the Knight and he would protect his Pawn with his life.

Goddammit, he had to.

Author's Notes

I settled on the American version since that's the one I saw on YouTube. But some alterations, Gregor really was Florence's father and Florence and Anatoly got back together.

There are a few references to Bobby Fischer like Freddy not wanting to live in Iceland (where Fischer eventually lived) and the reference to Erasmus Hall which was Fischer's old school as well.

Freddie's breakdown in 1986 occurring in St. Louis is not only a shout out to my hometown, but the fact there is a Chess Hall of Fame (that displays some of the coolest sets)

Freddie's workplace is not real. Instead it is a composite of the Municipal Archives in Manhattan and the New York Public Archives. I tried to think of a good post-chess career that would have nothing to do with chess, would show off Freddie's intellect, and allow him not to work with people very much and I thought an archives department would fit. I was partly inspired by Katherine Hepburn's character, Bunny Watson in the movie Desk Set in that she knows the entire contents of her library by memory where to find information right down to the page and line number.