Saving Maddie Read Online Free Page B

visiting them long enough to know I should never interrupt them when they were playing chess.
    Leonard scratched the stubble on his chin and leaned back. He muttered something under his breath and tapped his cane against the linoleum floor.
    “Leonard, I’ma be dead by the time you make a move,” Mr. Rollins grumbled from across the table. He took off his felt hat and fanned himself. “Just move your damn piece so we can get this game over with.”
    Leonard moved his leathery, wrinkled hand to the board and slid one of the black pieces to an adjoining square. “Your move,” he said. “But just so you know, there ain’t no way you can win.”
    I stared at the board. It was still full of black and white chess pieces.
    Mr. Rollins popped the brake on his wheelchair and inched closer to the table. The wrinkles on his forehead intensified as he studied the board. After a few seconds, he scowled and threw his hat to the ground. “I’ll be a sonofabitch….”
    As Mr. Rollins continued to curse to himself, I grabbed a chair from a nearby table and sat down. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more. Church stuff has been keeping me pretty busy.”
    Leonard waved off my apology. “You ain’t missin’ nothin’ here,” he said. “Rollins still hasn’t won a game.”
    “I woulda won last week, if Beatrice hadn’t knocked the board over,” Mr. Rollins said. “You’d think she woulda found a way to lose some of that weight after all these years.”
    “I heard that, Carl Rollins,” Ms. Beatrice yelled from across the room. For an eighty-something-year-old woman, she had very good hearing.
    “What’s a youngun like you doing here on a nice summer day like this?” Leonard asked. “You should be out courtin’.”
    I picked up one of the chess pieces—the bishop. “I don’t have much time for dating.”
    “What happened to that girl you used to bring over here?” Leonard asked.
    “Jenn?” I shook my head. “We broke up. But I thought I told you that before.”
    “Leonard can’t remember to wipe his own ass, much less what you told him a few months ago,” Mr. Rollins said.
    Leonard chuckled. “Well, I still remember how to whup your butt playing chess.” He turned to me. “Sorry to hear about the girl. She seemed nice.”
    Mr. Rollins elbowed me. “Don’t worry ’bout it. I’ve had four wives, and none of ’em were worth the trouble it took to keep ’em happy. You’re better off being by yourself.” Mr. Rollins opened his mouth like he was going to continue, but instead erupted into a series of harsh, wheezing coughs.
    Everyone in the room held their breath. Mr. Rollinshad lung cancer, and ever since he had stopped his chemo treatments, his coughing fits had dramatically intensified to the point where it was almost painful to watch.
    Mr. Rollins finally stopped struggling long enough to suck in a few breaths. “What the hell are y’all staring at?” he mumbled. “Why don’t one of y’all get me a cup of water or somethin’?”
    Just then, one of the nurses walked in holding a paper cup. Mr. Rollins extended his trembling hand, took the cup, and then swallowed a gulp of water.
    “You’d better lie down for a while, Rollins,” Leonard said. “You’re liable to cough up your last good lung if you don’t take it easy.”
    Mr. Rollins shook his head. “Admit it—you’re just scared to play another game.”
    The nurse placed her hand on Mr. Rollins’s shoulder. “I should take you to your room. You need your medicine.”
    Mr. Rollins narrowed his eyes at the nurse before looking at me. “See what I mean? These women won’t do anything but ruin your life. Always trying to tell you what to do and where to go.”
    The nurse began to wheel Mr. Rollins away. “Do you need anything?” I asked him.
    “Naw, I’m good, but thanks for offering.” Then he winked. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to the nurse here givin’ me one of them sponge baths.”
    The nurse swatted him on the arm.