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There
were
people
waiting
with
old
copies
of
Chess
Review
,
wanting
her
to
autograph
her
picture
on
the
cover
.
Others
wanted
her
to
sign
their
programs
or
just
sheets
of
paper
.
While
she
was
signing
one
of
the
magazines
,
she
looked
for
a
moment
at
the
black
-
and
-
white
photograph
of
herself
holding
the
big
trophy
in
Ohio
,
with
Benny
and
Barnes
and
a
few
others
out
of
focus
in
the
background
.
Her
face
looked
tired
and
plain
,
and
she
recalled
with
a
sudden
remembered
shame
that
the
magazine
had
sat
with
its
tan
mailing
cover
in
a
stack
on
the
cobbler
s
bench
for
a
month
before
she
had
opened
it
and
found
her
picture
.
Someone
thrust
another
copy
at
her
to
sign
,
and
she
shook
off
the
memory
.
She
autographed
her
way
out
of
the
crowded
room
and
through
yet
another
crowd
that
was
waiting
outside
the
door
,
filling
the
space
between
her
playing
area
and
the
ballroom
where
the
rest
of
the
tournament
was
still
in
progress
.
Two
directors
were
trying
to
hush
the
crowd
to
avoid
disturbing
the
other
games
as
she
came
through
.
Some
of
the
players
looked
up
from
their
boards
angrily
and
frowned
in
her
direction
.
It
was
exhilarating
and
frightening
,
having
all
these
people
pressed
near
her
,
pushing
up
to
her
with
admiration
.
One
of
the
women
who
had
got
her
autograph
said
,
I
don
t
know
a
thing
about
chess
,
dear
,
but
I
m
thrilled
for
you
,
and
a
middle
-
aged
man
insisted
on
shaking
her
hand
,
saying
,
You
re
the
best
thing
for
the
game
since
Capablanca
.
Thanks
,
she
said
.
I
wish
it
were
as
easy
for
me
.
Maybe
it
is
,
she
thought
.
Her
brain
seemed
to
be
all
right
.
Maybe
she
hadn
t
ruined
it
.
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She
walked
confidently
down
the
street
to
her
hotel
in
bright
sunshine
.
She
would
be
going
to
Russia
in
six
months
.
Christian
Crusade
had
agreed
to
buy
tickets
on
Aeroflot
for
her
and
Benny
and
a
woman
from
the
USCF
and
would
pay
their
hotel
bills
.
The
Moscow
tournament
would
provide
the
meals
.
She
had
been
studying
chess
for
six
hours
a
day
,
and
she
could
keep
it
up
.
She
stopped
to
buy
more
flowers
carnations
this
time
.
The
woman
at
the
desk
had
asked
for
her
autograph
last
night
when
she
came
in
from
dinner
;
she
would
be
glad
to
get
her
another
vase
.
Before
leaving
for
California
,
Beth
had
mailed
off
checks
for
subscriptions
to
all
the
magazines
Benny
took
.
She
would
be
getting
Deutsche
Schachzeitung
,
the
oldest
chess
magazine
,
and
British
Chess
Magazine
and
,
from
Russia
,
Shakhmatni
v
USSR
.
There
would
be
Échecs
Europe
and
American
Chess
Bulletin
.
She
planned
to
play
through
every
grandmaster
game
in
them
,
and
when
she
found
games
that
were
important
she
would
memorize
them
and
analyze
every
move
that
had
consequence
or
developed
any
idea
that
she
was
not
familiar
with
.
In
early
spring
she
might
go
to
New
York
and
play
the
U
.
S
.
Open
and
get
in
a
few
weeks
with
Benny
.
The
flowers
in
her
hand
glowed
crimson
,
her
new
jeans
and
cotton
sweater
felt
fresh
on
her
skin
in
the
cool
San
Francisco
air
,
at
the
bottom
of
the
street
the
blue
ocean
lay
like
a
dream
of
possibility
.
Her
soul
sang
silently
with
it
,
reaching
out
toward
the
Pacific
.
*
*
*
When
she
came
home
with
her
trophy
and
the
first
-
prize
check
,
she
found
in
the
pile
of
mail
two
business
envelopes
:
one
was
from
the
USCF
and
contained
a
check
for
four
hundred
dollars
and
a
brief
apology
that
they
couldn
t
send
more
.
The
second
was
from
Christian
Crusade
.
It
had
a
three
-
page
letter
that
spoke
of
the
need
to
promote
international
understanding
through
Christian
principles
and
to
annihilate
Communism
for
the
advancement
of
those
same
principles
.
The
word
His
was
capitalized
in
a
way
that
made
Beth
uneasy
.
The
letter
was
signed
Yours
in
Christ
by
four
people
.
Folded
up
in
it
was
a
check
for
four
thousand
dollars
.
She
held
the
check
in
her
hand
for
a
long
time
.
Her
prize
money
at
San
Francisco
was
two
thousand
,
and
she
had
to
take
her
travel
expenses
out
of
it
.
Her
bank
account
had
been
dwindling
for
the
past
six
months
.
She
had
hoped
to
get
at
most
two
thousand
dollars
from
the
people
in
Texas
.
Whatever
crazy
ideas
they
might
have
,
the
money
was
a
gift
from
heaven
.
She
called
Benny
to
tell
him
the
good
news
.
*
*
*
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When
she
came
in
from
her
Wednesday
morning
squash
game
the
phone
was
ringing
.
She
got
her
raincoat
off
in
a
hurry
,
threw
it
on
the
sofa
and
picked
up
the
phone
.
It
was
a
woman
s
voice
.
Is
this
Elizabeth
Harmon
?
Yes
.
This
is
Helen
Deardorff
,
at
Methuen
.
She
was
too
astonished
to
speak
.
I
have
something
to
tell
you
,
Elizabeth
.
Mr
.
Shaibel
died
last
night
.
I
thought
you
might
want
to
know
.