The Other Half of Life (20 page)

Manfred leaned back in his chair. The crowd hushed as he pushed his queen's pawn up two squares. He didn't lift the pawn, or even look at it; he stared at Thomas as he made the move. And when Thomas challenged his center, Manfred immediately played his bishop's pawn up, entering one of the most daring openings: the Queen's Gambit. Before, Manfred had neglected the center and played like Nimzowitsch, but now he challenged Thomas in one of the most popular and testing lines in chess. Thomas took a deep breath. He knew that those gathered couldn't possibly understand what was really going on between him and Manfred. They didn't know that Manfred had beaten him before while playing unconventional moves and now he was revealing that the whole time he had known the classical systems. They didn't know that he and Manfred had fought over Priska. But they did know that this was a game of passenger against crew, of Jew against Nazi.

Thomas didn't dare look at Manfred after the first moves. Instead he bit his bottom lip and managed to make the next two moves with a steady hand. It was important to show Manfred he was not afraid.

Manfred moved out his bishop and, when Thomas attacked it, retreated it as if he had played the opening for
years and years. Thomas sighed. He could do nothing to surprise Manfred. Thomas reached for his queen's bishop's pawn—he always pushed a pawn here. But he stopped short. He could see Manfred frowning at him as his hand hovered over the piece.

“What's he waiting for?” Claudia whispered behind him.

“He's already stuck.” Thomas recognized Kurt's voice and looked up to see him standing behind Manfred.

Thomas brought his hand back to cup his chin and let out a sharp exhale. He tried to figure out what Manfred was thinking and how well Manfred actually knew the Queen's Gambit. Thomas could play the queen's bishop's pawn as he usually did. If it worked, the momentum would swing swiftly in his favor. But if Manfred was expecting the move, it would only bring Thomas trouble.

Thomas could feel his knee shaking under the table, and he didn't dare take his hand off his chin until he regained his composure. The spectators were starting to chatter. Thomas was thinking too long for such a normal position. His mind ricocheted between the departure from his mother in Hamburg, his father's bloody face, and Priska's explanation of the difference between hope and faith. Then suddenly, a push of a knight and there was only chess. He could have been playing his father in the back room of the shop at home. The spectators disappeared. His racing mind calmed. The pieces, in their beautiful sculpted
simplicity, stared back at him as if they knew no time or place. With his knight move, he had initiated an opening called Lasker's Defense. His father had taught him the move, invented by Lasker himself.

Thomas didn't make the move quietly, as he had done in the past. He picked up the knight and moved it firmly onto the square, as if to tell Manfred and everyone else that Thomas would be the one controlling this game. For the first time since the game started, Thomas looked up and met Manfred's eyes. Manfred nodded, acknowledging the move but not deterred by it.

The game progressed into a test of nerves and a battle of endurance. “Live to fight,” he kept telling himself. They played the next few moves quickly—Manfred making threat after threat and Thomas coolly quelling the pressure and playing for small advantages. Manfred's moves began to slow, and he let out deep breaths as the position became difficult for both sides. It looked as though Thomas might lose, but he kept finding moves to save himself for a bit longer. Finally Manfred made a move that Thomas didn't expect, and the crowd oohed. Thomas looked up and saw Professor Affeldt, who nodded at him. He looked back to the board. He needed to defend a pawn, but if he did, Manfred would be able to mount a serious and perhaps unstoppable attack.

Then another idea occurred to Thomas. Instead of defending, he'd let Manfred take the pawn. It was his only
hope, so he tossed his queen up the board, starting an attack himself—knowing that if he should fail, he would be going into an endgame a pawn down and nearly facing defeat. Manfred took the pawn, and suddenly the momentum had shifted. Now Manfred was on the defensive, and Thomas's attack kept growing stronger. Losing the pawn had galvanized him to play the game as if it were his last. He could see the lost pawn, off to Manfred's side, and he shifted in his seat to feel his father's pawn in his pocket before making his next move.

As the game went on, Manfred kept his eyes on the board. It was the first time Manfred seemed to have to puzzle out each move, while Thomas started to play the best moves he'd ever made in his life. His knights came in with precise support from his bishops, and his queen tore open files and diagonals. Then suddenly, Thomas leaned back to see a completely won position. All he had to do was sacrifice his queen. He played it with a moment's hesitation, second-guessing his calculation but not for long enough to stop him. Perhaps Manfred had outwitted him again and Thomas was not seeing things as clearly as he thought he was. Manfred took the queen and Thomas made his next move, saying in almost a whisper, “Checkmate.”

The crowd burst into cheers. Thomas stood up to shake Manfred's hand but before he could, everyone was upon him. Jürgen clapped Thomas on the back. Priska kissed him on the cheek.

“Well done,” Wilhelm said.

After accepting everyone's congratulations, Thomas searched the room for Manfred. No matter what he felt about him, he should shake his hand. His father had always told him that no matter how much he disliked an opponent, it was important to show him proper respect. But Manfred was gone.

Professor Affeldt spoke up. “Friends, I have an important announcement to make and the timing seems rather fitting. The captain has decided we will set off for the United States tonight.”

Another, louder cheer went up. Frau Rosen hugged Wilhelm. Even Herr Kleist was smiling. “This is better than we could have ever planned!” he said. “Straight to the United States, no waiting for our numbers to come up. This is what I've been saying we should do all along.”

Priska was beaming too. “Isn't this great?” she said to Thomas.

“Yes,” he said, although there was Walter to think of, waiting for him in Cuba. And his rational side knew that just because they were headed toward the United States didn't mean they would be granted entrance.

P
riska borrowed her father's camera. As the ship cruised the Florida coastline, they posed for photograph after photograph: Thomas and Günther halfway up one of the masts; Priska, Ingrid, and Marianne grinning in a lifeboat.

“Now everyone together!” Priska called. “Gather around the life ring.”

They filled in around the life ring, which read ST. FRANCIS. “Not too close or we won't be able to see the letters on it,” Priska instructed.

“You should be in the picture too,” Ingrid said. “Wait.” She hurried off and returned with Paul, who said he would take the picture.

Priska handed Paul the camera and ran to join the group. She slipped in beside Thomas.

“Smile!” Paul said.

“Say 'America'!” Priska suggested.

They all cried, “America!”

Just before the shutter clicked, Thomas glanced at Priska. He knew he was caught on film that way—the only one not looking at the camera.

Paul handed the camera back to Priska and they all gathered at the railing. Priska pointed into the distance. “Another ship.”

When it came closer, the lettering alongside it was visible: U.S. COAST GUARD. Priska waved at an officer standing on the bridge. “They must be coming to guide us in.”

The officer didn't wave back.

“Not very friendly, is he?” she said as the ship motored alongside them. “But President Roosevelt is a wonderful man and Vati says he's sure to let us in.” She dug into her pocket. “I've been working on a letter to Eleanor Roosevelt too.” She held the paper out to Thomas. “What do you think?”

Before Thomas read the letter, he glanced again at the Coast Guard ship. Why hadn't the officer waved back?

Thomas was aware of her eyes on him the whole time he was reading. He kept looking at the paper after he had finished, not wanting to meet her gaze. The hum of the Coast Guard ship rattled in his ears, giving him a bad feeling.

Finally he said, “It's well done.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling.

She waved again at the officer on the bridge. “You can wave back!” she called out, but her voice was lost in the noise of the engines.

Before dinner, Thomas found Professor Affeldt. “The U.S. ship that's running alongside us … it's not guiding us in, is it?”

He rubbed his forehead. “No. It's keeping us out.”

“They don't want us either? Don't they understand we'll be sent back?”

Professor Affeldt moved his hand from his forehead to his chin. “I'm going to be honest with you, Thomas. I worry that this whole trip was a ruse on the part of Germany—to say they tried to let us go and treated us properly. So they could point to this ship as an example to the world and say, 'See, no one wants those Jews in their countries either. Not Cuba, not even America.'”

“But what about the captain? I thought he was a decent man—why would he have ever gone along with that?” Thomas asked.

“I'm not sure he had any knowledge of what was going on. Either that or he had no choice.” Professor Affeldt put a hand on Thomas's shoulder. “Don't tell her yet. We're still pleading our case. I don't want her to know until she absolutely has to.”

Thomas nodded. He thought of Priska waving to the officer on the bridge of the Coast Guard ship. Her voice fading into the sound of the engines. The last thing he wanted was to tell her.

That night Thomas and Priska met on deck. The moon was nearly full and it lit up the deck.

“What a moon!” Paul said, leading Claudia out to the
railing not far from Thomas and Priska. A moment later they were no longer looking at the moon.

“All they do is kiss, those two,” Thomas said.

“Is that so bad?” Priska asked.

“No,” Thomas admitted.

Priska wrapped her arms around herself as if she had just gotten a chill. “Did you hear Lisbeth had her baby? A girl. Emma Cohn. She and the baby are both healthy.”

“That's wonderful,” Thomas said, but he knew his voice sounded distracted. He couldn't get the conversation with Professor Affeldt out of his head. He wasn't sure how much longer they could keep what was happening from Priska.