Dawn Back in the old days there were quite a few chess parlors in the city, if you knew where to look for them. Since I was a denizen of the upper West Side, I used to play at local chess centers on 79th Street or on Broadway. The chess parlor on Broadway, now long gone, was a vast room filled with chess tables, folding chairs, and not much else. The lights were fluorescent and stayed on day and night. The place never closed. Late on a windy evening in early June, I climbed the stairs to see what I might find. It was just after midnight and the only sounds were the humming of the florescent lights, the clicking of chess clocks, a murmur here and there, and the occasional thump as a Coke slid down the shoot in the soda machine. Chess players are notoriously immune to the normal diurnal cycle, so there were quite a few people scattered around the large room.

Off in a corner, a group of onlookers surrounded two players. One of them was considered the best local talent among the late-night set. I joined the silent, almost somber, observers. The best guy was very good. It was a complex and tangled game, but finally the local hero won. "Any chance of a game?" I asked. He looked up and saw that I was no one. "Why would I bother playing with you," he said, as if terminating our exchange.

Late night feisty, I shot back "Well, if you're so great, you can give me a handicap, what do you say to that?" "What kind of a handicap?" "Well, how about a pawn? Your king bishop pawn." I didn't want to be greedy, like a child. "Ok. I'll play you for five bucks." This was a long time ago and five bucks was worth something then. "And I get White," I added. I was greedy enough for that. "OK.

And don't forget, the loser pays for our time, as well." "OK," I said and sat down. As always, the solid, worn pieces felt comforting in my hand, as if they spoke for a realm beyond time, a realm of smoke-filled silence and contemplation. Our eyes on the board, we arranged our forces. And without another word, we began to play. It was a game both careful and complex. Each of us had castled, there had been no exchanges, just a lot of maneuvering, mostly of the knights. Possibilities were rampant, but, in the present, the tangled richness on the board seemed to favor no one.

He went and got a coffee. I got a Coke. It was now 2 a.m. We played on in silence. My hands were cold and clammy, and I shivered now and then despite my light sweater. I knew that a single mistake would end.