"Oh." Her face clouds, and then she sees her move, and makes it, and looks up at me triumphantly. "Checkmate!"
"Hey! Bravo!" I salaam her. "You are the chess queen dujour."
"Yes, I am," Clare says, pink with pride. She starts to set the pieces back in their starting positions. "Again?"
I pretend to consult my nonexistent watch. "Sure." I sit down again. "You hungry?" We've been out here for hours and supplies have run low; all we have left is the dregs of a bag of Doritos.
"Mmhmm." Clare holds the pawns behind her back; I tap her right elbow and she shows me the white pawn. I make my standard opening move, Queen's Pawn to Q4. She makes her standard response to my standard opening move, Queen's Pawn to Q4. We play out the next ten moves fairly rapidly, with only moderate bloodshed, and then Clare sits for a while, pondering the board. She is always experimenting, always attempting the coup d'eclat. "Who do you like now?" she asks without looking up.
"You mean at twenty? Or at thirty-six?"
"Both."
I try to remember being twenty. It's just a blur of women, breasts, legs, skin, hair. All their stories have jumbled together, and their faces no longer attach themselves to names. I was busy but miserable at twenty. "Twenty was nothing special. Nobody springs to mind."
"And thirty-six?"
I scrutinize Clare. Is twelve too young? I'm sure twelve is really too young. Better to fantasize about beautiful, unattainable, safe Paul McCartney than to have to contend with Henry the Time Traveling Geezer. Why is she asking this anyway?
"Henry?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you married?" "Yes," I admit reluctantly. "To who?"
"A very beautiful, patient, talented, smart woman."
Her faces falls. "Oh." She picks up one of my white bishops, which she captured two moves ago, and spins it on the ground like a top. "Well, that's nice." She seems kind of put out by this news.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Clare moves her queen from Q2 to KN5. "Check."
I move my knight to protect my king.
"Am I married?" Clare inquires. I meet her eyes. "You're pushing your luck today."
"Why not? You never tell me anything anyway. Come on, Henry, tell me if I'm gonna be an old maid." "You're a nun," I tease her. Clare shudders. "Boy, I hope not." She takes one of my pawns with her rook. "How did you meet your wife?"
"Sorry. Top secret information." I take her rook with my queen. Clare makes a face. "Ouch. Were you time traveling? When you met her?"
" I was minding my own business."
Clare sighs. She takes another pawn with her other rook. I'm starting to run low on pawns. I move Queen's Bishop to KB4.
"It's not fair that you know everything about me but you never tell me anything about you." "True. It's not fair." I try to look regretful, and obliging.
"I mean, Ruth and Helen and Megan and Laura tell me everything and I tell them everything." "Everything?"
"Yeah. Well, I don't tell them about you."
"Oh? Why's that?"
Clare looks a bit defensive. "You're a secret. They wouldn't believe me, anyway." She traps my bishop with her knight, flashes me a sly smile. I contemplate the board, trying to find a way to take her knight or move my bishop. Things are looking grim for White. "Henry, are you really a person?"
I am a bit taken aback. "Yes. What else would I be?"
"I don't know. A spirit?"
"I'm really a person, Clare."
"Prove it."
"How?"
"I don't know."
"I mean, I don't think you could prove that you're a person, Clare."
"Sure I can."
"How?"
"I'm just like a person."
"Well, I'm just like a person, too." It's funny that Clare is bringing this up; back in 1999 Dr. Kendrick and I are engaged in philosophical trench warfare over this very issue. Kendrick is convinced that I am a harbinger of a new species of human, as different from everyday folks as Cro-Magnon Man was from his Neanderthal neighbors. I contend that I'm just a piece of messed-up code, and our inability to have kids proves that I'm not going to be the Missing Link. We've taken to quoting Kierkegaard and Heidegger at each other and glowering. Meanwhile, Clare regards me doubtfully.
" People don't appear and disappear the way you do. You're like the Cheshire Cat."
"Are you implying that I'm a fictional character?" I spot my move, finally: King's Rook to QR3. Now she can take my bishop but she'll lose her queen in the process. It takes Clare a moment to realize this and when she does she sticks out her tongue at me. Her tongue is a worrisome shade of orange from all the Doritos she's eaten.