Don Miguel and Don Paulo played chess at a small table under the mango tree every day at 10 am. The mango tree was in the town square of El Pueblo in the low, coastal mountains of Baja California Sur. El Pueblo was their town. They were the Jefe Dons. The Jefes usually played for 1 hour, then the rest of the day could unfold as it might.
The Priest Diego de Santo was always in attendance. Padre Diego or Padre Hippy, as he was often called by his varied flock. He brought from the seminary long hair and the game of chess. He was the coach. He watched as Don Paulo struggled with his opening, looking this way and that, cracking his knuckles, sighing. Don Paulo looked at Padre Diego, Padre Diego looked at Don Paulo and uttered a simple opening, “King Knight to f3.” Don Paulo made the move.
Don Miguel knows this opening. Everyone knew this opening. But he couldn’t remember the classic answer exactly. He looked at Padre Diego, then up at the sky. At that moment a twin engine aircraft flew over the town of El Pueblo. There was no sound of motors. The engines were not running. There was only the sound of the wind through the propellers as they spun slowly and the hum of the wind as it passed over the gliding airframe. The aircraft went over a ridge north of El Pueblo. Padre Diego, Don Miguel, Don Paulo, and Cha Cha, the keeper of the Cantina Los Angeles, watched the Avion disappear. Then they all heard a loud thump. A cloud of dust ascended from the back of the ridge and billowed into the town square on the breeze.