Dr. Wu

I just spent two weeks on St. John, one of the U.S. Virgin Islands. This is a picture of sunset at one of the beaches on the northern shore, called Cinnamon Bay.

The trip was full of all the bliss we hoped for--long days on the beach, endless snorkeling, a fun carnival, and lots of relaxation. There was one highlight, though, that stood out from the rest. His name was Dr. Wu.

Dr. Wu gave me the most satisfying chess game of my life. And believe me, that's saying a lot.

We first encountered him at the July 4th parade the island holds each year.

Amid the dancing, costumes, and steel drums, appeared a mysterious Asian man. He wore a kids' plastic fireman hat and Hawaiian shirt, and he snapped photos of everything in sight. He silently made his way into our tent, chain-smoking and stoically photographing. He walked into the parade and began taking pictures of another Asian family, and other scattered onlookers.

Needless to say, we talked about him for days. Maybe he was a spy? A creep? A looney? Then, a few evenings later, he emerged out of the darkness as we walked through town. One of us was wearing a checkered T-shirt. Without saying hello, he blurted out, "You have chess on your shirt! You play chess?"

We looked at each other, stifling nervous laughter. "I used to," Jason said, "But not lately..."

"Meet me in half an hour!" The man exclaimed.

"Sorry man, we're heading home..."

"Tomorrow! 4:30 to 7:30--Beach Bar--chess and jazz!" As he walked away, he pointed to himself and said, "Docta Wu!"

After we stopped laughing and could speak again, we realized we had to go. We had just been challenged.

We were there at 4:30 sharp, and he gave Jason a fist-bump as soon as we arrived. He sat by a stand full of pictures he was selling, which explained his creepy photography practices. He had posted this sign next to his pictures:

You can't read it very well, but two highlights are, "Mariah Carey pay me $50,000," and "Tell me the time and place, I will be there help me, help you show me the money." On the back he added another service: he can help you get a Chinese visa for $50. He was way better than we had even hoped.

After he finished his first game, I challenged him to a chess duel.

I asked him a little about himself. "What is your doctorate in?" "Psychology," he said.

"Oh really? I'm a therapist. What did you study?"

"Uhh, diseases and....symptoms..."

Mm hmm. Right. All we did learn about him: he's from Shanghai, plans to return in October, sits on the beach playing chess every day, and has a "future ex-wife."

A few moves in, he was already trash-talking.

Him: "You aren't aggressive enough! You're a chicken! Don't be a chicken! Here, I should just give you my queen and give you the advantage. Maybe then you'd have a chance."

Me: "Don't you analyze me. You don't know me. You haven't even lost to me yet."

Him: "Let's make a deal. You win, I give you this flower. You lose, you pay me two dollars."

Me: "Um, no. I'm not making that deal."

Him: "You do play pretty good for a woman."

Me: "Really? You're really gonna say that?"

All this just sharpened my desire to beat him. In the background, people were gathering to watch, Spain was hitting the final goal of the World Cup, and Dr. Wu was hustling Jason for money while smoking, shaking a rattle, and playing a harmonica. I was oblivious, focused by my killer instinct.

He was a lot of fun to play. He took risks, traded pieces, and dragged it out to the bitter end. At last, four pieces were on the board: his king and a pawn, and my king and queen. I went in for the kill, and I beat him. I don't mean some dumb stalemate or resignation--I'm talking checkmated him.

Victory!! I half expected the crowd to throw me on their shoulders and float me.

That was the last we saw of Dr. Wu. My pride, however, will last forever.