Jim Chessing
Coup
My friend next door taught me the moves when I was ten. Of the many games we played, it was the one we played the most even though he beat me with ease. When I turned the tables and started to win, he lost interest and gave me his set. Other friends were no match for me, but they didn’t mind. They were better at the things that mattered most to boys of our age. They talked me up to the playground director and arranged a game. I beat him too, and he was an adult!
One evening while playing a game by myself, my stepfather observed I hadn’t come up for air in half an hour. He asked where I learned to play. I told him. Was I any good? I shrugged. Did I want a real opponent? I didn’t know he played. I agreed. He crushed me. He crushed me again. And again. Game after game. And as much as I hated losing, I couldn’t quit.
pond ice fracturing
only a few moves in
the feeling
that no one
can save me
At the library, I chanced upon a chess book. It was full of diagrams and written in a combination of prose and secret code. It explained everything! I learned about the opening, the middlegame, and the endgame. I studied the games of the old masters and the current phenom Bobby Fischer. Then it began: the game transformed from a series of unrelated knee-jerk reactions to the development and implementation of ideas and plans. I knew what to do and began to anticipate his moves. I studied in secret but continued to lose until one day I beat him, and he never played again.
opening the door
the backyard puddle
that froze
on the day he left
is water again
About the Author
Jim Chessing writes haiku, tanka, and lately he has forayed into haibun and tanka prose. He won first prize in the Tanka Society of America (TSA) International Tanka Contest and participates in the TSA Mentorship Program. His first tanka collection, A Volcano, A Peony, was published in 2024. A retired psychologist, he lives with his wife in San Ramon, California.