The Gift Of Wood and Sounds
A wisp of a girl with eyes the color of storm clouds, Maya dug through the pile of trash while the smell of frying adobo and damp dirt lingered heavy in the air. Rugged and agile, her bare feet made their way through the hazardous maze of plastic bags, empty cans, and the odd wandering dog. A persistent companion amid the winding passages of Sitio Kasuy, an impoverished neighborhood tucked away in San Isiro, was hunger, which gnawed at her gut.
Her attention was suddenly drawn to a flash of wood. A gorgeously carved chessboard, its squares worn smooth by time and innumerable games, was nestled among the trash. Intrigued, Maya picked it up and brushed the dirt off. In her hands, the once-polished mahogany wood felt smooth and chilly. Along the boundary, elaborate designs danced, speaking of great battles and long-forgotten stories.
That evening, Maya gave her grandfather, Lolo, the chessboard in front of a million starry skies. A man worn down by life’s hardships and the passing of time, he examined the board with a mixture of amazement and regret. “This belonged to your Lolo,” he said in a heartfelt, raspy voice. “He was a champion, a maestro of the game.”
Maya felt a fire ignited by Lolo’s remarks. She was desperate to figure out the rules of the game and the mysteries that lay between the squares. Lolo became her tutor, his mischievous eyes flashing. He carefully outlined the compositions’ movements as well as their advantages and disadvantages. Maya soaked up his lessons like a sponge, her intellect as keen as the sparkle in her eyes.
Lolo’s words lit a fire within Maya. She was driven to decipher the game’s rules and the mysteries hidden between the squares. Lolo took on the role of her tutor, his sly eyes blazing. He described the motions of the compositions in detail, along with their benefits and drawbacks. Maya’s brain was as sharp as the glitter in her eyes as she absorbed his instructions like a sponge.
