All copyrights reserved by Jenny Hsing-I Liu 1998(c)
The final game of the annual chess tournament had been going on for at least three hours. Sounds of shuffling feet and impatient yawns came from the audience who were just as exhausted as the players. Nobody dared to let out a loud noise for fear that they would interrupt the thoughts of the competitors.
Jerome Campbell put his large hand under his chin in deep consideration of his next move. His shining chestnut-colored eyes scanned the chessboard as if he was analyzing the whole game. Everyone in attendance knew that his challenger, Kevin Gosburn, did not stand a chance. Jerome never made mistakes.
Kevin let out a deep sigh as Jerome put down the pawn on the board. He understood that his fatal error was identified. It was an extremely frustrating day, his opponent seemed to look through every move he made. Again in deep thoughts, he attempted to think ahead to predict what Jerome's next move would be. Time was draining out on him as he began another attack hastily. Jerome made his move quickly and accurately, but also unpredictably. Many thought that he would win the championship.
Tick¡K tock¡K tick¡K tock¡K Kevin knocked down his king finally to yield the game. Applause sounded like thunder and flowers were brought up to congratulate the new champion, Jerome Campbell. A huge ear-to-ear smile broke out on his excited face. He raised his hands to signal his triumph. Reporters squeezed through the pushing crowd trying to get near this great chess player, but security held them back from the platform. Jerome Campbell walked cautiously off the steps of the stage, stopping to bow again at the last step. Suddenly, without warning, he lost his balance and tumbled down the last step.
The people screamed and started a riot. Jerome stood up with Kevin's kind assistance. Blood gushed out of the wound on his forehead and it trickled down to stain his ironed white shirt. The ruby-colored blood did not seem real. He put his hands up to stop the bleeding with his neat and also ironed handkerchief. Holding up one of his hands to calm the flock of people, he said, "I'm fine. It's no big deal." As the bleeding halted, he let his hand fall down to his side. "It's no¡K no¡K big deal," he stuttered again to comfort the audience.
Despite his words, the people gasped and pointed to his forehead. Something was sticking out on his forehead and it moved. "It¡K it's¡K no¡K big deal. No big deal. No big deal," he repeated again. Somebody, who looked like a reporter, crashed through the security line to get a better look at Jerome. "It's a spring!" he exclaimed. He stumbled back in shock. "No big deal. No big deal. No big deal," Jerome kept echoing the same phrase. Something seemed to be wrong.
"No big deal. No¡K no¡K bi¡K bi¡K big¡K deeeeee¡K al," Jerome echoed one last time as he fell to the ground before the stage and the spring fell from his head. A greater gasp came from the security guards that looked through the hole on his head: microchips and wires.