Read Online The Other Half of Life by Kim Ablon Whitney - Free Book Online Page B

won games. He reminded himself to play the board, not Manfred, and so he kept his eyes locked on the black and white squares.
    Thomas moved his pawn. Manfred shrugged and then quickly moved his knight to attack the center that Thomas had built. Thomas was sure it would take just a few additional moves before he won; Manfred couldn't possibly survive without pawns in the center. Manfred was breaking every rule except for developing all his pieces.
    “It's clear she's from a good family,” Manfred said.
    “You might be surprised to find that many of us Jews are from good families,” Thomas snapped back.
    Manfred glanced behind Thomas. “
Guten Tag, Herr Holz
,” he called out.
    Thomas turned to see the
Ortsgruppenleiter
raise his arm in salute. “
Heil Hitler
!”
    Manfred lowered his eyes and returned a less invigorated “
Heil Hitler
.”
    The
Ortsgruppenleiter
took one of the sandwiches from the table at the side of the room and lingered nearby. He chewed loudly and it made Thomas feel nauseated.
    “Are you on a break?” Holz asked Manfred.
    “Yes,” he replied.
    “Do you usually mix with
passengers
on your break?” He emphasized the word
passengers
as if it pained him to refer to them as such.
    “I usually do what I please on my break,” Manfred said. “After all, it is my break.”
    “The captain does not set rules for his steward? About mixing with
passengers?
”
    “We're simply playing chess,” Manfred said.
    “I see that,” the
Ortsgruppenleiter
replied.
    He stayed awhile longer, methodically eating the sandwich. Finally he saluted again and left. When the door had shut behind him, Manfred sighed.
    “You don't like him,” Thomas observed. Manfred didn't answer and Thomas added, “Are you going to be in trouble with the captain for playing me?”
    Manfred shook his head. “The captain wants us to be welcoming to the passengers.”
    “I hear we have the captain to thank for being treated so well.”
    Manfred nodded. “He's a fair man. He has high standards for how he runs his ship, no matter who is traveling on it.”
    “And the
Ortsgruppenleiter
doesn't agree with him.”
    “No,” Manfred conceded. “
Ortsgruppenleiter
Holz certainly does not.”
    Thomas was surprised at how forthcoming Manfred was, and he took the opportunity to find out more. “The officers in the Party uniforms … are they always on board?”
    “No, they were only recently assigned to the ship.”
    Thomas reached for a knight, about to make a defensive move, when what was happening suddenly hit him—his powerful center was crumbling as Manfred's bishops and knights pressured it into vulnerability. How had he not seen as much? Was it because he was distracted by their discussion? Manfred had seemed as if he didn't know the first thing about chess, but now Thomas realized it might be just the opposite.
    Thomas remembered his father telling him about Aron Nimzowitsch, who played very unconventional opening moves that flew in the face of masters like Lasker. He wondered if Manfred knew of Nimzowitsch and Lasker after all. Perhaps Manfred modeled his play after Nimzowitsch and it was all a carefully laid-out plan. Yet Nimzowitsch was a Jew, and it was hard to believe Manfred would aspire to the play of a Jew.
    No matter what, it was too late to do anything now, and as Thomas defended, the pressure only grew stronger. Thomas pulled back from the board and closed his eyes. He opened them again, hoping to see things differently, to find a way out. But there in front of him was his disoriented army, and he couldn't get around the fact that there was no point in playing on. He could hardly look up atManfred. He tipped his king over. He kept his eyes down for a moment, trying to think through what had just happened. Had there been a method underneath all of Manfred's crazy maneuvers, or had Thomas just let his opponent escape? He wanted to believe the latter, that Manfred really wasn't a good player and that Thomas had just