A Game of Chess

A man plays a mental game with one of the patients in a mental institute. What unfolds will change how he views the world... Or will it?

Early-morning sunlight shone colourfully through thin crystals of frost which had formed around the edges of the window. Damp withered leaves of brown and dark ochre blew aimlessly around a bare tree in the courtyard. The dead environment glistened with a dewdrop sheen. Rays from the sun melted the night frost, which now gleamed rainbow off half-dead grass. A shadow from the tree ripped through the sea of light as it grasped the window in its dark branches. Winter’s bite had quickly set in.
An empty outside was countered by the moans and groans, random sputtered words and mindless chatter which came from behind. As I changed the focus of my eyes I could see the loud procession of people who wandered behind me. Only the areas reflected off the dark shadows on the window were visible. It left a shattered view.
In the top right area Sid was glued to the television as he watched the 87th rerun of a deep cave nature documentary. A shame it was a low funded movie, they had to cut out lighting equipment to keep it in budget. It was alright though as the TV didn't work. The old b**b tube kicked it half a year back, but that didn't effect Sid’s enjoyment. For all we knew he could have tuned into a secret wavelength. Whatever it was, I wished I could see what he saw in that blank tin box.
Two individuals shuffled along behind me. Their heads popped out for a second as they made their way to my left. Corey and Drake. It was obvious they were two of the newer patients. Able to shuffle across the room, they still had a decent amount of motor function.
Tucked deep into the far corner my favourite patient sat at the chess table. I figured this was as good of a time to have our daily match. A mental battle of minds which I remained the undefeated victor. 26-0.
It truly was a battle of minds. Only a white king and 3 black pawns remained from the set so we couldn't play actual chess. Not that it mattered. My opponent wasn't exactly in the right condition to move pieces with any precision.
I walked across the room and took the challenger’s seat. Ted and I sat in silence for a little as we both observed the other patients. They jerked and spasmed from time to time, but were docile for the most part. Drool covered the collars of their dirty white shirts.
Not all the insane in the institute were in this shape. Many didn't even have a reason to be here anymore. But this was the wing where we put patients who needed some “extensive attendance” as we called it. This of course referred largely towards an assortment of multi-coloured pills in a purple paper cup.
“Don't you wish we could do more?” His voice came as a low sensible wave under a tsunami of nonsense. Well, at least it was partly sensible.
“We are doing what we can.” I turned to him. His black hair was a mess of thick curls. They jutted out in disarray. Clearly he had not showered in a week or two. Most “extensive attendance” patients were in this state of hygiene.
This fine character was Ted. Ted enjoyed thinking that he was a doctor. This made getting him to take his medication a daily battle of minds. All the other staff had given up on the long tiresome war, which left it for me to win. An ongoing joke amongst my colleagues, especially between the head nurse Janet and me. It helped that I had him come to believe that I was a coworker and friend.
“They are always so drugged up and incoherent. How can we talk to them to figure out what’s wrong?” He had a point. These patients remained here for extended periods as it was difficult to find out what made them wacky. But delusions plagued so many and often lead to violent outbursts when they were not sedated, so it was necessary. Even shock therapy only temporarily nullified their confused rage.
“Well, it's a temporary solution.” My faith in science overcoming anything was strong.
“I guess it is the best for now. I mean, when they come to they tend to go b-b-bounce off the walls bonkers. Like total nutso insano. Latin baby.” The last few words came out with a high amount of spittle which dripped in strings on his soaked shirt collar. At the same moment his hairy arms flew up in the air in an extremely exaggerated I give up. He seemed not to notice his outburst.
It was a sad sight. Ted was actually good company apart from a highly delusional sense of perception and his occasional bouts which accompanied the drool. Always with the drool. Most patients let the waterworks flow after happy-fun-time kicked in. But not Ted. Ted had terrible table manners.
“You know you can't reason with a lunatic.” My mouth shot into a mocking grin. No doubt Ted wouldn't see the joke in my statement, but I always had high hopes of ending this early. He shifted his legs, moving one with a black slipper down as he crossed them again with a barefoot one on top. He was attempting to regain his composure, although a thick glob dripped from his chin without notice.
“I know you're right. But it bothers me. I thought I would be helping people when I transferred here. This is just sick.”
“It's stressful, I know. Stress concerns me greatly. Stressed people often form cases like our patients. It eats at the protective barrier of the psyche. How have you been feeling lately?” He gave me a quick side glance and looked back at the procession of patients as they moved in odd patterns about the room. In the split second of our eye contact I attempted to push out a thought; follow my trap, make this quick.
“I've been better. Haven't slept proper in a while though. Feel restless at night, but tired all day. I don't know what's wrong.” The last word came out WAH-NGH, diluted by the largest glob I had the pleasure to see yet. He wiped it quickly on an arm, the hair slicked across skin that now glistened in the light. This cut his trail of thought, conversation paused for a long and awkward moment.
“You know, maybe you should take these. They might help balance you out.” I slid a small paper cup across the table. It stopped near the edge, right beside his arm. As he took a good look at it a slimy smile slowly appeared on his face.
“Nice joke. But I don't think I can work if I'm as drugged up as them.”
“Well, if you took some maybe you would be in a better position to help them. You would understand what they are experiencing now. It must help them someway anyhow. That's why we give it to them, to help with their problems.” I motioned to the cup. “Everyone has problems.”
He nodded slowly, but fixated eyes never left the colourful cup. A small amount of colour in a room almost fully white. It drew a patients attention, and with attention came interest. That’s why I picked it, specific shade and everything. Sweet lavender.
“It does make sense. Maybe it will help.”
“Just between you and me, I've taken some before. Out of you know, scientific curiosity. It helped me.” He looked up at me. Tired blue eyes popped out in the unflattering fluorescents. Their eyes always seemed tired. I wondered if he knew that. But a strange sense of understanding suddenly surfaced as a little light in his eyes. I knew I had won.
“Yeah. You're right. They will do me good.” He said this while he picked up the cup in an almost fluid motion. His worn down gaze never left mine. “Bottoms up.”
He tipped the cup to me in a cheers-like salute and downed the pills with about a litre of saliva. We have tiny yellow cups for water to be served with our famous drug-medley, but it was never needed by Ted. I still brought one just in case but it sat unused on the table once more.
“I have to make my rounds.” I stood and walked slowly in front of him. “You’ll feel better.” I put my hand sympathetically on his shoulder for a good rub.
There I left him, as he sat in a puddle of his own drool. 27-0, the champ keeps his undefeated title.
I headed to the doors that lead to the main lobby of Wing C. Janet sat the service room. She spied me with a timely gaze up from her crossword. I could hear the keys on her belt jingle as she closed the book and exited the service room.
“Hey Janet, I'm ready to leave now.” She stopped just behind the bar door. Her face turned harshly stern, as hard and fixed as a gargoyle. This was the one feature I disliked about Janet, I wasn’t particularly a fan of gothic architecture.
“For the last time Tim, you are not allowed to leave until we think you're better.” We always played this game. Every time I had to leave the ward we went through this ritual. It was a thing Janet and I had.
“I think you should know me by now Janet, but here's my I.D.. I may be crazy but I'm still a doctor, so let me out.” I put on a playful smile as I produced an identification card from my pocket. She stared at it for a brief moment then gave me a tired look.
“Tim, that's a trivia card. The answer is B. Jim Morrison, and you can not leave because you're not well. Now go sit back down beside your twin and please try to be quiet.” She walked away to the service room door. Suddenly she stopped and turned back towards me.
“Oh, and please stop giving your medication to Ted. He's a bloody mess.” Before the door could close she was at the desk. All of her attention went back into her crossword. She looked up for one uninterested moment and pointed her pencil to where I was previously sitting, as if to say go.
Janet had been awfully rude lately. She must be going crazy working here, after all, she looks as tired as the patients. I guess ideas and states of mind are contagious under stress. I should request this place to be quarantined to prevent further infection.
As I thought a dribble rolled down my chin. I wiped my mouth and looked down at the floor. I wore a dirty white shirt, slightly wet and wrinkled at the collar. On the ground, surrounding a few drops of liquid, were my feet. One was bare while the other bore a beaten black slipper. 

Author's Note

How is the concept?