"You're on them again"

"What?" Beth distractedly asked after a few moments from her kitchen isle. Her pupils blown, skin pale and clammy, wearing only a thin night gown and an oversized robe as she looks over to the newly arrived guest.

By the side of the bottle and garment filled couch, Jolene stood in front of Beth, wearing a prim black suite, having spent the day working at her law firm when she had heard the disturbing news regarding her red head sister that had arrived weeks ago from Moscow. After driving Beth to the airport for her tournament, Jolene had been following her games and waiting for any news she could get from the daily newspaper.

When the local publishing had announced her victory, she had burst in delight and had patiently waited for her return. But as 5 weeks went by with no contact, the young paralegal had become increasingly worried and concerned that something might have happened that had been stopping Beth from calling her.

She was right.

While going around the supermarket, Jolene had overhead the cashiers gossiping about the copious amount of alcohol and cigarettes that was being purchased by the recently returned chess champion. Jolene didn't think twice after paying for her groceries and had swiftly driven to the white Kentucky House.

When she arrived, she walked straight to the door, knocking a few times and calling Beth's name before turning the knob that wasn't even locked and saw the once again cluttered mess of bottles and clothes before focusing her attention on the woman that sat on a stool by the kitchen counter with a cigar in between bony fingers, not even noticing her sudden intrusion.

Having drank more than she ate for the past weeks, Beth didn't even notice the amount of time that had passed since she first started intaking the green pills again, a week after her arrival in Kentucky. At first, she had been able to hold out from the voices and distract herself with cleaning the house and walking around the neighborhood. A habit she had picked up from the early mornings she played in Moscow.

But as the days went by, it became harder and harder for her as she then started with one glass, and another until it was a whole bottle. The longer she stayed in Kentucky, the more she realized how she truly had nothing there but the house she had insisted on staying at for the memories that she had made with the years she spent with her adopted mother during the start of her career and the years onwards.

Now, the memories that drove her forward only seems to drag her down as a constant reminder of how she has once again been left alone by another mother. Endless memories that would torment her every waking moment, driving her to the comfort of the countless alcoholic drinks and tranquility pills that took the pain and sadness away, like how she had watched her Alma do it for the years they spent together.

Yet even with the hazy and cloudy effects of what she took, she would always find herself drifting back to the siren noise filled basement where she was able to find comfort and relief from the outside world and from herself, a constant spicy citrus scent permeating her senses for each breath she would take.

The safety that the slender arms had provided her, curbed her addiction, and had turned it into something far more dangerous. A constant want and need to be near that spicy citrus scent, to touch, to feel, to hold and possess in a way she had never felt before. An array of foreign feelings and emotions she could barely understand despite her sharp mind.

As Beth slowly comes down from her high, she takes in the presence of Jolene that she was sure had not been there when she had come down this morning for her usual drink. Come to think of it, she had been meaning to call her and pay back the money that her fellow Methuen sister had lent for the tournament. But it seemed to have slipped her mind.

Beth uses her arms to slowly push off the counter but ends up leaning heavily on it instead as she tries to focus her attention to her waiting guest.

Jolene walks around the clutter littered floor and placed her handbag on the kitchen table before taking hold of Beth's shoulders, guiding her down to stay seated. She then sits in front of the stool next to Beth's and takes in the situation.

"I didn't hear you come in" Beth stated.

"I'm sure you didn't. I don't think you would have noticed even if a bomb went off at the next street. Not in your state, cracker"

"I'm fine"

There it is. The same situation, the same answer.

"You most certainly are not fine. Not before when you left and most certainly not now that you're back." Jolene had countered and released a heavy sigh. She could see the dark circles under Beth's eyes, her natural pale skin now a sickly color, lips chapped and dry, and her petite form looking smaller than it had ever been before.

Beth stared at Jolene for a few seconds before looking out of the living room window, no longer giving her remaining attention. The bright sun irritating her tired eyes as prickly tears start to build up. She had been crying for so long. She was just beyond exhausted now.

Seeing as she wasn't going to getting much from Beth, Jolene stands up from the counter and started cleaning the surrounding clutter just as she had previously done. As there wasn't as much as before, at least it wasn't going to take her as long as the first time around.

Beth had stayed seated on the stool, watching as the remainder of the day transitioned into the night, another day passing by.

Five weeks and three days.

That was how long she had been back and since they had talked over the phone at Moscow, and a total of ten weeks since the last time they had last seen each other. Ten weeks of constantly being on guard for a call about the tournament and five weeks of painstakingly waiting for her return.

Benny Watts, the longtime USA chess champion, a prodigy in his field, has been reduced to waiting by the phone for a call that might never occur because of his utterly besotted feelings towards a young, doe-eyed ginger, that had caught his attention since their first match during the US Championships in 1966, and maybe even before then. She had caught his interest and has since kept track of her right until she had won the USSR World title.

But now, it's as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth and Benny would be lying if he said he wasn't worried. Even when she was preoccupied with countless tournaments, he was still able to get wind of her activities through his colleges and the Times due to her well-known competitions.

Yet, no one, not even Harry Beltik, the twins or Townes, knew what had recently happened to her and was even the ones to contact him first, inquiring if he had any knowledge of her sudden disappearance which he himself had no answer to.

Running a rough hand across his face, moving it to the top of his head, and lightly gripping onto his hair, Benny impatiently raps with his fingers on the table that was still occupied by the same chess board as 5 weeks ago. All he had to do was call, Benny thought to himself. If he calls now, he can get a semblance of peace from the worry that's been eating him away. He'll be able to finally hear her voice just to know that she was still alive and not passed out somewhere, drunk and out of her mind.

As he reaches his hand towards the telephone he had been sitting with for the past weeks, he stops as he take hold of the receiver, gripping it tightly before once again letting it go, never being able to go past gripping the receiver. With a great huff, Benny shoots up from his seat and paces in front of the chess board.

How long must he wait for her next move? Benny had left the ball in her court. He had sealed his move, tucked it away in an envelope, and had left it to Beth to continue the game. But the more he waits, the less likely it looks for it to continue.

With one last look at the chest board, he slowly reaches for the queen, holding it gently as if it were porcelain and walks over to the coat rack and stares at the cream knitted scarf that he hopes to one day be reclaimed by its owner.

Gentle caresses stroked the queen whilst remembering the last time he had been able to caress that same soft, supple skin.

"One more." Benny whispered. Raising the queen to his lips, giving it a soft kiss, and moving it slightly away with a slight tremble. An agonizing look appearing on his face, eyes glistening.

"I'll wait one more week for you Harmon. Then, I'll let you go."