By Aleksey Bashtavenko

Academic Composition

Gonzalo Alejandro Marcos was a figure of grandeur, an Argentine grandmaster of chess who had settled in the serene hills of Switzerland. His imposing frame, reminiscent of a well-fed bear, matched the robust flavor of his stories, which he shared with anyone willing to lend an ear. In the 1990s, Gonzalo was among the top five Argentine chess players, his name whispered with reverence in chess circles across the globe. He had traveled widely for tournaments, even competing in a World Cup held in the Kremlin in the early 2000s.

To his Swiss neighbors and colleagues, Gonzalo was the epitome of charm. Urbane, amicable, and generous, he seemed to have a story for every occasion and a laugh that could fill a room. He had an uncanny ability to make everyone feel like his closest friend. His tales of chess conquests, travels, and romantic escapades were legendary, painting him as a man who had truly lived.

Yet, for all his charisma, Gonzalo’s true nature was as enigmatic as the game he mastered. His student, Jann, a keen observer and budding chess talent, began to notice something peculiar about his mentor. There was a certain glibness to Gonzalo’s stories, a too-perfect polish that seemed almost rehearsed. Jann’s mind wandered to the film “Nine Queens,” where Ricardo Darin portrayed a master of deception, embodying the very essence of Viveza Criolla, the Argentine knack for clever trickery.

Jann’s suspicions grew when he began seeing patterns in Gonzalo’s behavior that mirrored those of Darin’s character. The grandmaster’s stories, while entertaining, often had subtle inconsistencies. His generosity came with invisible strings attached, and his jolly demeanor seemed to mask a calculating mind. Gonzalo’s ability to manipulate situations to his advantage, always with a smile, became increasingly apparent.

One crisp evening, Gonzalo invited Jann to his home for dinner and drinks. The chalet, nestled in the Swiss Alps, exuded warmth and sophistication. As they settled in, Gonzalo poured Jann a glass of Malbec, the rich aroma of the Argentine wine filling the room.

“To a great upcoming tournament,” Gonzalo toasted, his smile as broad as ever. They clinked glasses, the sound resonating in the cozy room.

As they sipped their wine, Gonzalo’s phone buzzed with a series of WhatsApp audios. He played them, unabashedly, while Jann sat across from him. The voice on the other end was that of a much younger woman, her tone laced with subtle reticence. She gently declined Gonzalo’s advances, despite mentioning her dire economic situation and his offers of financial assistance.

“I really appreciate your help, Gonzalo, but I can’t come tonight,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “It’s just…complicated.”

Gonzalo responded with a dismissive chuckle, ignoring her hesitations. He sent her a picture of the stunning sunset outside his apartment, accompanied by a message: “The only thing that could make this evening more beautiful is your presence.”

Jann felt a pang of discomfort as he observed the exchange. The woman’s reluctance was palpable, yet Gonzalo seemed impervious to it. Instead of taking the hint, he continued to court her with persistence that bordered on insensitivity.

Gonzalo turned his attention back to Jann, raising his glass once more. “To elegance,” he declared with a grin. “Yo creo que elegancia es importante.”

It was a rainy afternoon when Jann met Gonzalo for another chess study session. The two settled into Gonzalo’s study, surrounded by shelves filled with chess books and trophies from his illustrious career. The atmosphere was one of focused intensity, with the occasional sound of rain pattering against the windows.

Gonzalo set up a board, preparing to dissect a particularly complex game. As they began to analyze the positions, Gonzalo’s phone buzzed incessantly. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting from concentration to visible annoyance.

“Gran abrazo, Ángel!” he muttered, hitting the send button with a touch more force than necessary. The pattern repeated several times throughout the session, each new message from his chess rivals met with the same exasperated retort. “Gran abrazo!” Gonzalo repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he fired off the response.

Jann couldn’t contain his laughter any longer. “When you say ‘gran abrazo’, do you mean the bear hug that you want to give them before you quash them? You know what a bear does in anticipation of eating its prey?”

Gonzalo paused, his eyes locking onto Jann’s with a mixture of amusement and cunning. A smug, complacent grin spread across his face. “Diplomacia, siempre diplomacia,” he replied, his voice smooth and unperturbed.

Jann chuckled, shaking his head. “So, you see diplomacy as a means to disguise your true intentions? A way to keep your rivals at bay while you plan your next move?”

Gonzalo leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his ample stomach. “Exactly, Jann. In chess, as in life, it’s all about holding your cards close to your chest. Never show your true intentions. It never does you any good to argue with anyone.”

The lesson continued, but Jann’s mind kept returning to Gonzalo’s words. The grandmaster’s approach to both his rivals and his students was a calculated mix of charm and strategy. Jann started to wonder if Gonzalo’s dissimulation served him in life as well as it did in chess.

“That phrase is going to lose all meaning if you keep saying it,” Jann remarked, still smiling.

Gonzalo shrugged. “Let them think what they want. The important thing is to keep them guessing, to never let them see your true intentions.”

The week after their last encounter, Jann found himself once again in Gonzalo’s opulent chalet, this time for lunch. The table was set with a spread of delicious Argentine cuisine, and Gonzalo was in high spirits, regaling Jann with stories about history, culture, and his favorite topic, the legacy of Francoism in Spain. As they dug into their meal, a young woman named Claudia emerged from one of the bedrooms, her hair tousled from sleep.

Claudia’s disinterest in the ongoing conversation was palpable. She yawned, barely acknowledging their presence, and made a beeline for the coffee pot. Her attempts to distance herself from the intellectual discourse were almost theatrical. She scrolled through her phone, mumbled a few uninterested responses, and eventually retreated to another room, leaving Jann and Gonzalo to their discussion.

Minutes later, the doorbell rang, and Helen, a refined woman of sophisticated demeanor, entered the scene. She was everything Claudia was not: poised, intelligent, and clearly belonging to the same socioeconomic class as Gonzalo. Helen exuded an air of confidence and intellect that immediately drew Gonzalo’s attention.

Gonzalo’s demeanor shifted noticeably as he tried to impress Helen. He spoke passionately about historical intricacies, weaving in anecdotes designed to highlight his own intelligence and worldliness. However, Helen’s expression remained unimpressed. She was Uruguayan, and it was evident that she saw through Gonzalo’s clandestine maneuvering. Her eyes occasionally darted towards the room where Claudia had disappeared, a look of thinly veiled disdain crossing her face.

“Gran abrazo, Ángel!” Gonzalo quipped at one point, attempting to share a lighthearted moment from his interactions with chess rivals, but Helen merely raised an eyebrow, her disapproval apparent.

Jann watched the scene unfold, feeling like he was living through a bizarre reenactment of a scene from “The Sun Also Rises,” where Jake Barnes brought Georgette to a gathering of expat writers in Paris. The dissonance between Claudia’s disinterest, Helen’s aloofness, and Gonzalo’s desperate attempts to juggle both women was almost comical.

Trying to salvage the situation, Gonzalo turned to Jann, attempting to draw him into the conversation. “Jann, why don’t you tell Helen about our last game? The one where we analyzed the King’s Gambit in detail.”

Jann obliged, recounting the intricacies of their recent study session, but he could see that Helen’s mind was elsewhere. She nodded politely but was clearly more focused on the incongruity of the scene.

Finally, unable to maintain the facade any longer, Helen stood up. “Thank you for the invitation, Gonzalo, but I think I should be going. It was… enlightening.”

Gonzalo’s face fell slightly, but he masked his disappointment with a courteous smile. “Of course, Helen. It was a pleasure having you here.”

As Helen left, Gonzalo slumped back into his chair, his façade of charm and sophistication momentarily cracked. Jann couldn’t help but feel a mix of amusement and pity for the grandmaster. Gonzalo’s world, so meticulously crafted, had once again been disrupted by the very people he sought to impress and manipulate.

Jann finished his lunch in relative silence, reflecting on the peculiar dynamics of Gonzalo’s life. The grandmaster’s attempts to balance his various personas and relationships were as intricate and challenging as the chess games he loved so much. And in both arenas, success was never guaranteed.

Jann nodded, though his mind was racing. Gonzalo’s words seemed less like advice and more like a confession. The grandmaster’s method of seduction, cloaked in charm and elegance, was just another game to him.

From that day on, Jann watched Gonzalo with a new perspective, appreciating the grandmaster’s art of subterfuge. He understood that Gonzalo’s charm and deception were two sides of the same coin, each essential to his persona. While his colleagues in Switzerland continued to be dazzled by Gonzalo’s tales, Jann saw the grandmaster for what he truly was: a living embodiment of the cunning and craftiness that defined his homeland.

And so, Gonzalo Alejandro Marcos continued his life in Switzerland, a jolly bear of a man with a twinkle in his eye and a trick up his sleeve, forever playing the greatest game of all.