Chester looked up from the chessboard at Ray as if he were crazy. A bishop was suspended in mid-move, trembling slightly as Chester's rough old timeworn hand covered with liver spots shook with the unsteadiness that age brings on. He frowned and the wrinkled old skin around his mouth made him look like a bull-dog. His beady eyes were dark and serious and glared at Ray over the rim of his bifocals.

"What do you mean?" asked Chester. "Where did that come from? You're trying to distract me, ain't ya?"

"No, no, it's not like that at all," replied Ray trying to hide a grin. Although he was about Chester's age, his eyes (and the still thick head of hair) betrayed his inner youth. "I saw it on TV the other day. One of those game shows. Or maybe it was a talk show, I don't remember. But this guy ate a bowl of crickets for forty thousand dollars."

Chester just looked at him incredulously, the bishop still shaking in mid-air, paused in its attack. "What kind of idiot would give a guy forty thousand dollars just to eat a bowl of crickets? Someone with too much money, that's who," he said, answering his own question.

"I told you, it was a game show. They do things like that nowadays." He looked at Chester and shrugged.

Chester shook his head and set the bishop down. "Used to be, if a guy was so crazy as to eat a bowl of crickets they'd lock him up for good to keep him out of the gene pool. Nasty little buggers, they are. You're move."

Ray surveyed the board and after a long pause picked up a knight and set it back down, capturing a bishop. He looked back up his irritated opponent. Just as Chester reached toward the board, Ray said, "But you know, I've been thinking about it . . . "

"Thinking about what? And why'd you make such a stupid move? And why are you talking? I didn't bother you on your turn, now did I?"

"The guy who ate the crickets," Ray continued, ignoring the rest of Chester's questions. "I think I'd eat a bowl of crickets for forty grand."

"Damn-it, Ray, are we still talking about that?"

"I mean forty grand is forty grand. An old man like me could do a lot with that kind of money."

"What would you do with forty grand, Ray? You ain't got no family left to speak of. You got all them benefits from the service. You're in a good home, you've got a cute young nurse who makes sure you take all your pills, what would you do? Buy one of them solid gold chess boards with the little space men for pieces like I seen in that magazine? I'll tell you what you could do with the money. You could buy me some good name-brand old people diapers so I wouldn't have to wear these cheap generic ones, that's what you could spend it on. Geez, Ray . . . " Chester's words trailed off as he turned his attention back to the chess board. He obviously wasn't interested in Ray's answer. He picked up his rook and held it above the board, studying all the potential moves and their consequences.

Very softly, Ray said, "You're my family, Chester. I'd give it to you. I'd make sure you left this world knowing your family was OK. Hell, those grandkids of yours might as well by my grandkids too."

Chester's eyes darted up to meet Rays and he set the rook back down in its original position. He pointed his finger accusingly and shook it as he talked. "Now, let me get this straight. You'd eat a bowl of live crickets, hair legs and all chirping and jumping around and everything, just so I could die in peace?"

"Yeah, I guess so," replied Ray smugly.

"Ray, I think that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, and you've said a lot of stupid things over the years." He picked up his queen and captured Ray's knight.

Ray laughed to himself knowing that 'thank you' was one phrase Chester had forgotten how to say years ago and that was the closest he could come to it now. He moved his bishop into position and leaned back in his chair and smiled.

"Checkmate."