The Jack of all Trades

Daniel lifted his Queen and dropped it with satisfaction on b7, noting down ‘++’, otherwise known as checkmate. Daniel breathed a sigh of relief that the game was finally over. What would be his final match seemed to go on for eternity but he could now, finally, pack away the chess pieces. He scooped them into his hands and into the chessboard which also formed as a case. 

He really thought that chess would be his thing, a hobby that he could finally stick with. But once again, he became bored of the repetition. Instead, his chess set would become a decorative piece, he would be one of those people who owns a chess set merely for show.

Having stored the chess case away, he wondered what hobby he would try next. He might try his hand at some gymnastics, he could take a different dance class, or perhaps a painting lesson, or even some paintballing! But for now, he sat in silence on the centre of his sofa, allowing ideas to come to him.

He knew he ought to stick to something, but how was he meant to stick to one thing when there were millions of endless possibilities waiting for him? What if he chose one thing and missed out on something else, something that could have been his meaning of life? And even if he did find that one thing, how can anyone ever be satisfied doing the same thing day in day out, switching into auto-pilot mode and allowing our brains to do our living for us?

And so, he decided he was going to do his living for himself. The moment he got bored, he moved on to something else. Even the fading blue of his hair signified someone who was never satisfied, always looking for something new.

He was glad to have his thoughts pulled away by the ding of his phone. He pulled it out to see a message from his closest friend, possibly the only thing to have remained constant in his life. It read ‘Oi, mate, this looks right up your street’, followed by a ‘tears of joy’ emoji.

Below the message was a link. He clicked on it to be taken to a webpage at the top of which, in multi-coloured letters, was written ‘Jack of all Trades competition’. Immediately, he was intrigued and scrolled down, his heart beating with excitement, though he didn’t yet know what he was getting excited about. Then, he reached the event description.

‘Are you someone who likes to take on life and all its wonders? Feel dissatisfied unless you are learning something new? Do you have a million and one talents with nothing to show for it? If you are a Jack of all trades, this could be the competition for you. The first to complete all five tasks will win a grand prize of £10,000. The five tasks? Well, you’ll have to come along and find out… And don’t worry, this is a one-off competition, so this is something you won’t get bored of!’

Daniel’s heart quickened. Something told him that this was meant to be, this was the moment he was building up to and it had fallen right in his lap. But then the usual fear crept up. What if he had made a wrong choice? What if he had chosen tennis when he should have chosen skeet-shooting and it cost him the competition? He imagined the laughter from the audience when he picked up the rifle and shot himself in the foot… Literally.

But, he was never one to turn down a new opportunity, and so he entered his details and confirmed his entry into the competition. He exited the web page and replied to his friend ‘I’ve entered, I’ll see you in the crowd!’, and slid his phone back into his pocket.

Now he wondered what appearance he would give himself for the competition. Would he stick to his faded-blue hair? Would he go for spikes or a mop-head? The thought struck him… He has never gone fully-shaved before. Yes, today was the day that he would try no hair at all. He would also, of course, buy a new set of sports clothing on the way. He had other sets that had worked well for him before, but what if he finds a new set of sports clothing that works even better? He couldn’t take that chance.

So, he went into town and got his head shaved, leaving a bright glimmer as the light reflected off the top. He admitted that he didn’t like how it looked, but he was ecstatic at how it felt. As he walked to the sports shop to buy his clothing, the cold wind against his skin gave him a buzz, made him feel alive, and he felt energised for the competition. Yes, this was the best choice. Now, he was ready.

*** The next day ***

His alarm went off, placed in a different corner of the room to make sure he got up and out of bed. He darted out from underneath the blanket and towards the clock to turn it off. He was still clouded by sleep, but he could still sense fear creeping in, possibly even some regret. 

The enthusiasm he had felt just last night had been washed away by the thought that he may have made a mistake. What if he wasn’t meant to enter the competition. What if, right now, he should instead be learning the new skill that would make him famous, that he would make a living from? The one thing that would finally satisfy him?

Or, what if he makes a fool of himself at the competition? What if it makes the news and he becomes the village idiot? Everyone would point and laugh at him as he walked down the street, whispering “hey, isn’t that the man who…”. He knew he was overthinking the situation, how unlikely this was to happen… And yet, he couldn’t tell himself with complete confidence that this definitely wouldn’t happen. As long as the possibility was there, the fear would be too.

This was another reason he kept switching hobbies. He would find something that seemed to qualm all his worries and he would feel like a new man reborn, untouchable. But the feeling never lasted. Every time it would fade away, and the same old fears would come back to haunt him. But, if he kept changing his hobbies, he could keep regaining this feeling, keeping his fears at bay.

But now, he had cast this aside, all because of some ridiculous notion that this competition was made for him. He didn’t even know what the competition would consist of. A million possible tasks that could come up, what were the chances that the few thousands of things he had done would be among them? He didn’t need his brief stint in learning statistics to know the answer.

He grabbed his phone from the top drawer of his bedside table, and message his friend ‘I don’t think I’m going to go through with it after all. Bit busy today’. He placed the phone down on top of the bedside table and breathed a sigh of relief. Now, the possibility he had been worried about was gone and he had nothing to worry about. Then a message flashed up on his phone. ‘I let you jump from hobby to hobby. But, if you choose not to go, then I’m going to come over and drag you there myself. And there it was. The possibility was back, along with the fear.

***

He didn’t need to be dragged, but the threat of it was enough to get him to make his own way there. He was shocked to see hundreds of people lined up, and thousands of people spectating. Were there really this many people just like him, never satisfied with their hobbies?

Any other time, the thought would have soothed him. But right now, it only intensified his nerves. With this many people just like him, how could he possibly win the competition? And with this many people watching, the chances of making a fool of himself were even greater than he had first imagined. He wanted to flee, never see another person again, but he knew he was too far in to be able to turn back now.

He stayed close to the back and looked up at the stage where the organiser was about to make his announcement. He walked on with such confidence in a well-fitted suit that it was difficult not to admire him. He gave off an aura of someone with many accomplishments, someone who would certainly become famous if he wasn’t already.

He welcomed everyone and announced the day’s tasks. The winner would be the first one to complete the fifth task, to checkmate their opponent. First up was fencing. He stood opposite his opponent and put on the clothing, which looked like a less heavily-padded beekeeper outfit. His heart pounded, so that the organisers’ words blurred in his ears, drowned out by the blood flowing through his face. The only words he did hear were “three… two… one… Go!”.

Too deep in his thoughts and fears, he didn’t see his opponent’s first attack coming. They lunged forward without hesitation and caught him in the sternum. A terrible start. Already one down, he had to pull this back otherwise his fears would become reality. He composed himself and started getting some movement into his feet, feeling fluidity in his actions.

He stepped forward, only to step back when his opponent charged, allowing him the chance to cut underneath, scoring himself a point back. 

He could tell that his opponent had trained recently, the tactics and techniques that he had learned himself were all there. It was an evenly-matched contest, and he was beginning to worry that even if he managed to win this duel, he might have lost too much time to be able to catch-up, and he saw others already running off to the second task when they had scored 10 points each.

But he told himself to remain calm. Finishing late was a better fate than not finishing at all, he told himself. Thankfully, his opponent also grew wary and became hasty in his desperation. Daniel was able to exploit his errors, charging forward when his opponent misstepped and countering when his opponent mistimed his attack, quickly winning the duel 15-11.

He ran off to the second task, into a sports car, only taking time to quickly adjust his seat, do his seatbelt, and start the engine. He could see people already halfway along the track, but he could also see others misjudging the corners and going way off the track, or being extra-cautious driving slowly around the corner wishing to avoid the same fate. This allowed him to quickly make up places in the race, taking the inside on the corners and whizzing past on the straights until he reached the end of the track, not far behind those who had already start the third task, to swim across the river.

He took off his fencing uniform, once again revealing his newly-purchased sports uniform, and dived into the water. The conditions were not in their favour, a heavy wind pushing the waves against them, requiring them to battle against the waves. Thankfully, however, new hobbies he had picked up since had built his strength, and so he had not lost much of his swimming ability. In fact, he thought he might be even better now then he was before, and these conditions with his improved strength probably gave him an advantage.

This thought only urged him on even more, and he found himself pulling away from the rest of the pack as he plowed his way through. Or so he had thought. When he reached the bottom of the mountain on the other side, he found he was actually level with another contestant, a brunette woman. They both swapped surprised glances, and he guessed that she had not noticed him either. Seeking to take advantage of her surprise, he grabbed a mountain climbing-kit and looked up to find his best route to tackle the mountain.

He was grateful for his increased strength, as the swim had worn him down more than he had thought. He could feel the lactic acid start to burn every muscle, the uncontrollable wobble they gave when he pulled himself up. But he looked across the mountain and locked eyes with the woman, who had kept the same pace. He knew he couldn’t allow his fatigue to slow him down, and kept himself going, still analysing the best route as he went, and keeping the momentum going until, finally, he had reached the top of the mountain where a large electronic tablet awaited him with a chess game already set-up.

He took a seat and made his first move, first building-up his command of the centre of the board. Then he started developing his pieces, waiting for the bot to make an error, any opportunity to start taking some pieces. It seemed the moment was never going to come, the bot was playing it safe. But then he saw his chance, an unprotected pawn. It was a very small win, but it showed him that the bot would make errors, and he grew with confidence.

Halfway through the match, and he couldn’t tell whether he had the upper-hand on the bot, the match remaining almost perfectly equal. But, even worse, he couldn’t tell if he had the upper-hand on his opponent and didn’t dare look over at her board.

The game started to unfold, and finally, he was starting to gain the upper hand, taking pieces and freeing himself up on the board which allowed him to take more pieces, including a few clever sacrifices, and now all he had to do was get the checkmate. The bot’s King was back up at the edge of the board. He moved his queen across the board and as soon as it touched back down onto the board, yelled “checkmate!”... He turned to face his opponent, who had yelled “checkmate!” at the same time.

They looked each other up and down in shock, but then scowling at each other in distrust. “I don’t believe you, you only yelled checkmate because you saw me winning the game,” Daniel accused. 

She was about to retaliate when the organiser, who seemed to have been on top of the mountain during the entirety of their chess matches, though he couldn’t tell, said “Before you tear each others’ throats out, we have checked and double-checked, and we are now triple-checking… But, as it stands, you both finished at exactly the same time! It’s incredible!”

“What? No, that’s impossible,” Daniel said.

“Not impossible. Just extremely unlikely… And yet, it happened! It really is incredible”. The organiser’s excitement was only fueling Daniel’s annoyance, he was clapping, hopping around, his voice high-pitched like a child on Christmas day.

“Well, it can only be because this loser doesn’t know how to play his own game and copied all my moves”

“Excuse me. I’ll have you know that, until I quit chess as a hobby only yesterday, I was on the road to becoming one of the chess masters at my local club”

She looked at him bemused, tilting her head slightly as though in disbelief, and Daniel frowned thinking she didn’t believe him. “That’s funny… I was in the same position when I quit my chess hobby yesterday”

At that moment, they both knew that they were meant to come to this competition today, but not for the competition. They were meant to come here to find each other.

Daniel fiddled his thumbs while asking “Hey… I know most people tend to ask others out to coffee… But I was wondering if you would like to join me in taking barista lessons so we can make our own coffees?”

“I would love to. And with £10,000 we’ll make the best damn coffee anyone has ever had!”

“Yes! And then we’ll never do it again”

“Yes, we’ll never do it again,” she laughed. “Maybe we’ll move onto tea instead”

Daniel’s fear that day did come partly true. They did in fact make the local papers. But he looked far from a fool. They were in the paper as the champions who had become lovers, and some joked about how they were meant to be, while others awed at how they were made for each other. And while other relationships soon leave the honeymoon stage, theirs never left it. They switched things up so often that they never became bored of each other, forever finding a new kind of love for each other.