M.Macabre's Hallowe-e-ners #4 - Ivan

 

Removing the dust and placing the pieces in the white and black squares of the chessboard, I heard Ivan say, 

‘Spring is coming.’

I said nothing. Nowadays he had been like this. The Gestapo would be any moment over here, and then they would take him away, on account of him being a preacher of anti-Nazi propaganda, and then…

And then? What would be left of our twenty-year old friendship.

Staring at the chessboard, I said, ‘You take the black one. Or white suits you more?’

Ivan said nothing. He just smiled. He had been doing that since the War broke out. He would smile, part his lips, and say - just like today:

‘Spring is coming.’

The evening wind of the last day of October had been howling over the moor. In the air, I could hear a mournful tune being played on a flute. It was Hungarian, and was being played by one of the Romani gypsy boys who had been forced to flee their homeland…

The nations didn’t matter anymore.

Nothing mattered anymore...

Was spring really coming?

Suddenly, the house shook up violently with a lot of light and noise. It was the bombs, which had been falling for so long…so long…

Ivan just smiled. He again said, 

‘Spring is coming.’

I started the game. I moved a pawn two places ahead. Ivan did the same.

I moved a white bishop three spaces away diagonally. He did the same.

The queen moved a space. The black one did the same. I was about to move the next piece when

‘WHAM!’

A second bomb fell on the ground. This time, not only the frail house shook violently, but also the dimming lamplights flickered off completely. We were surrounded by complete darkness…

‘Oh God. Power cut.’ I muttered, as I fumbled for the matchsticks and got up to get the candles.

As I lit up and placed five candles, I could see Ivan had suddenly turned pale – as if some impending danger was coming this way. Moments later, he wiped it off, and with a smile, said,

‘Spring is coming.’

I sighed. 

No, his mind had totally gone off. The police wouldn’t leave him easily…wouldn't leave one who would oppose them.

The game continued. 

I now moved the rook straight and knocked one of the black pawns off. Ivan moved his bishop two spaces.

I moved another pawn. Ivan did the same.

A third violent bomb fell as I moved the king one space away from being captured. It shook the house violently, and one of the candles by the window extinguished in the dark…

‘Spring is coming.’ Ivan said the phrase once more.

Outside, the chill wind was still blowing, and the Hungarian tune was still being played outside…

I moved the queen and knocked out one of the black bishops. Ivan moved his rook and moved out a white pawn…

I moved another pawn. Ivan did the same.

I moved a white piece three spaces away diagonally. He did the same.

Suddenly, I heard a terrifying sound. It made my heart stop.

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK’

They were here. I could hear the fists rapping against the door…

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

I turned fearfully towards Ivan. He looked motionless – the smile still lingering on his face, and then, he said it again:

‘Spring is coming.’

Just then, a fourth bomb came and literally shattered everything. Glass broke, the moor shook, there was a lot of light and noise, and in the midst of it, I saw Ivan getting up, and then, holding my hand, he said that goddamn phrase again. Again. AGAIN!

‘Spring is coming. Spring is coming. Spring is coming…’

I fainted…the last thing I could hear was someone breaking the wooden door...

***

When I regained my conscience, I saw that the house was silent again. I was covered in complete darkness – save for the one candle which was still giving light on the chessboard.

I got up and sat down on my chair. Outside, the air was filled the buzz of jets – air raids, possibly…

Was spring really coming? 

Was it really coming? I didn’t know…

Outside, the evening wind of the last day of October was howling over the moor. It was Samhain, I remembered. Samhain…Samhain…

Was spring really coming?

In the darkness, I could hear the Romani gypsy playing the Hungarian tune again on his flute…it floated like a phantom in the wind…

Just then, the last candle blew out.

I covered my face in my hands and cried out.

***

M.Macabre

31.10.2021