Game of Strategy

"It's a game of strategy?"

"Yes, of strategy. Shatranj."

There we were the three of us on the floor playing a simple game. Or well, my son and his father are playing. I'm merely observing, it does not seem simple.

"In which land do they play game as this?"

"Mine." he gruffed

I’m sitting the furthest from the fire . My husband threw too much firewood into it. I'm worried a stray ember might singe Junior. "You two sure are focused on this." No response, only the whistling cold and the roaring fireplace could be heard.

Even little quiet Junior was sucked in, but then again, anything his father does he becomes enraptured by it. He's very intelligent and tries to immediately replicate to some extent. But this might be different. "Junior do understand this game, so quickly?" I stroke the back of his head.

He simply just nods with a smile. He doesn't seem to talk, rather observe just like his father. "Why have you put Junior up to such a game already?" he has unbroken his stare at the game and son. "Better young than later, I was not afforded the opportunity." It's always about setting him on the right path early or giving him something he lacked.

I can't seem to intrude on them, but I feel left out a little. "Could you teach me sweetie? We could all take turns playing?" He raised a brow slightly, whether it was for the game or me I could not say. "If you'd like." The pieces are shuffling so quietly but player auras are anything but. "Would you like that Junior?" he nodded.

Seems like for now I can only observe them. Hard to imagine my little boy who was trying to split open firewood with his father only to injure himself, now is facing off with him and holding himself. Even weirder is that I never expected his father to be amused with these things. But then again, he always enjoyed stories of war and armies clashing as terrible of an affair that might be.

The game doesn't interest me much but seeing the two react and move is fun. Junior is not so tranquil, and my husband's usual stoicism isn't present. They seem restless but not agitated, I would know because I know them the best. 

Suddenly my husband taps my son on the forehead, almost to grab his attention. Then points at a specific point at the board

 "shah mat" he says. Junior looks distraught and looks all over in a hurry. Eventually he settles down and looks sad 

"It's okay Junior it's just a game." His father wearing a smirk as if triumphing over a child is a victory.

I try to comfort my son giving him a hug while stroking his soft hair, but he was incorrigible. "Couldn't you try to let him win!" Meanwhile my husband uncaringly was just shuffling pieces about. I was about to move him but then my husband patted him on the head and with a faint smile he said "Again.”

Huuuhhhhh?! Who does he think he is? Again? Not even asking it as a question but issuing it like it's a demand?  Sometimes he's too much a dullard when it comes to emotions. Though strangely Junior wriggled out of my arms and sat back down where he was prior. Beaming all of the sudden and eager to play again.

"Are you sure Junior? What if you lose again?" "He won't." My husband interjected. 

"How can you be so sure, you just thrashed him." He's too much of a kid too. 

"Because one day he'll win for sure. It could be this game or the next maybe even another. The chance always exists." He said with a smug grin. 

How could I counter such a claim said with such faith?

Junior looked at me almost saying "I can play one more momma?" Even he's so firm at such a tender age. I fear for girls when he's his father's age. "If you say so... you two are just the same. Unrelenting and stubborn."

They both excitedly start anew, and it seems I'm limited to overseeing these two.

 "Don't play too long. We should go to sleep soon." "

Mhmm" they both chime in. I just hope it's not all night, but they'll continue to lock horns even if the blizzard stopped.

I decide to settle into my covers trying to warm up. No point in sleeping yet. If I do they'll disturb me. They ruffle about too much trying to settle in. Junior still likes sleeping beside me, while my husband is a giant who makes the earth tremble with each movement.

"Even if you don't win now Junior, remember tomorrow holds another opportunity." I doubt he understands concepts like that yet. But he's already talking to his son like he's gaining his inheritance. "Yes Papa." in Junior's rare soft voice. "Good man." he says as they settle back in. They’re both people of few words, prefering to talk through actions. Seems like these games they play is how they communicate.

"Who'd you learn this game from Sweetie?" he always has a story for anything. "My Father." But he'll always be tight-lipped on details.  "Did you play it often with your sister?". "Yes, she was better than me but tends to make small mistakes." Whether you get details or not varies.

Junior giggles after his turn finished. Seems like anything he does well is celebrated. But... "If you're winning even then you don't seem to be excited much." He moved a piece.

"That so."

I hate when he does that. "No point in celebrating small things, relishing the actual successes are more important." It's that martial mentality of his again. "You're always so serious, it'll affect Junior at that rate." He patted Junior's head and pointed at the board again. 

"Maybe."  

"..."

"But I think he will be fine." Junior was looking bewildered at the board. "What happened?" he inquired. "It's a stalemate. Neither of us can progress".

"How?"  

"Look here."

"Either you are a talented genius or it was a stroke of luck." 

"Look Momma! Momma?"

"She's asleep it seems."

"What now?"

"We play again or go to bed."

"Again Papa."

"Hmm, but first I'll tuck your mother in properly."