Jeffry Adoms

Jeffry lay in the park, near the top of the sledding hill, watching the clouds float through the sky. He was having trouble seeing anything but blobs of puffy whiteness. His mind wandered to childhood and he remembered seeing many shapes and characters in the marshmallows of the atmosphere. This thought made him wonder if any of those had been true or if he had simply wanted to see what he saw, willing his mind to find the secrets even though they were not there.

It was both alarming and comforting to think that he could trick himself so easily, be so willing to enter into an agreement that he would find what he wanted to find. Along the time of growing up, it seemed that he had lost this skill, or defect. He was not sure which side of the argument he would want to land on. For the moment he would have to be content with what he had: a serious of ugly clumps heading nowhere at all.

The piece moved from A2 to A4, a rook, sometimes called a juicer. The dark-stained wood aimed straight at the gloss covered maple king. Jeffry was sweating, wiped his brow with a red handkerchief. The computer was making easy work of him in this game, but the match was 26 against 11. He kept playing over and over.

The hologram pieces were hazy at times, but Jeffry had only known them this way. After each game he told the computer to increase the difficulty. He was not a Grandmaster but he knew his way around the board, how the pieces moved, the 64 squares of battle. Sometimes he made up stories with the king and queen or the knights and bishops as he moved them about their world.

"Checkmate," the speakers said. The game was over.

Jeffry studied the board and wondered why he loved the torture of losing so much. He thought about the last few moves for a moment longer.

"Level up, and play again," he said. "Pawn E4."

Instinctively Jeffry shivered as his eyes opened: it was dark and cold. Lights flickered on and hummed slightly. He pushed off the thermal blankets and dashed to the closet to add a second coat, and a third. The sun had not shown in weeks, months, he had lost count. He was not certain of the precise day and time at all. The eternal turning of the Earth while revolving around the sun was something humans had known their entire existence, but now it was gone.

He puffed hot hair into his hands, they were already numb. Had pollution overtaken the environment, had computers plotted the end of their captors, had a crazed country started the last human war? There was no way to be sure without surviving. First, he had to live. And living required more heat than this! Think, he told himself.

The lights flickered again, and went out. Power, heat, he required it. In a matter of moments he would freeze completely, in the dark, alone.