Thomas Lindblad

While still half asleep, Åke heard Hans, no early riser, banging on three doors after one another. His door was the last one and he immediately got out of bed, put on yesterday’s clothes, and got hold of his backpack. Minutes later they were cycling with the four of them along the water to the central station. Hans, Marcel, Åke and Johny – an improbable combination of housemates intent upon winding down on a resort island for a couple of days. As all students at Dutch universities, they enjoyed

Already at an early stage of his stay in the Netherlands, Åke had paid a visit to Matthijs in Leiden. He was just as heartily received by Matthijs’s parents as one and a half year ago. Doctor Tiggelaar was still in the running for a professorial chair and his wife was ready for a nice cup of coffee at all times. Matthijs had suggested Åke could spend the night in Leiden, but there was no urgent necessity to do so. The journey by train to Amsterdam took only thirty-five minutes and Åke’s bike sto

Åke was unexpectedly soon back in the Netherlands. He arrived in Amsterdam in late August, exhausted from twenty-four hours in the train from Västerås. Matthijs waited for him at the station, hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. They had not met since Thanksgiving last year, when Matthijs had visited him at Colby College. One obvious reason was that Matthijs had not returned to Dartmouth after Christmas but decided to resume his studies at Leiden University. Åke, on the other hand, had remain

Precisely what I had in mind and you express it very succinctly. Readers will soon see what happens next to Åke. Thee are still some chapters to go.

Åke felt completely at home in Kevin’s Chrysler Valiant. His Icelandic sweater lay in the back seat, cans of cola and chips littered the space between the two front seats. Massachusetts flew by, on to New Jersey Turnpike, straight through Delaware and Maryland. The first leg of their journey ended with a hamburger dinner at the outskirts of Baltimore. Christmas holidays lay ahead. Åke’s father had not objected when Åke said he wanted to stay over Christmas and do some travelling in the Uni

You really get into the heads and hearts of my three personages! That gives me much pleasure.

November brought cool evenings and occasional showers. Åke was getting used to the new routines in his daily life that came with his friendship with Kevin. In the morning, he stayed in bed until Kevin came to wake him up. He played chess with Kevin more often than he had done with Henning and Malte at the time in secondary school. He escaped from the company of other housemates by making weekend trips with Kevin’s Chrysler Valiant, which in addition brought welcome opportunities to practise driv

I too have been enjoying it tremendusly, just recently catching up and presently very much looking forward to the following chapters. One small detail though. Slav's use of third person instead of first person is a clever device to show he is in the process of learning the language. Still, there are languages when such usage is standard, for instance Indonesian. I especailly like how Gavin and Jason are becoming distinct, predictable personalities. The easily awkward sharing of intimate information between Matthew and Rory is very nice too. Thanks for giving us this story!

The door of his room flew open. Kevin came rushing inside. ‘Wow, he’s got a lead!’ Åke rubbed his sleepy eyes and took in his visitor. Kevin as wearing his usual faded jeans and an equally faded T-shirt. He was an early riser and had made a habit of awakening Åke so that they could play a quick game of chess before classes. ‘3 ½ against 2 ½ and three games to go,’ Kevin spoke breathlessly. He was obviously referring to the final match between Bobby Fischer and Tigran Petrosian in

It was a long journey. Two hours in southern direction over the empty Interstate 95, passing Brunswick with the rival Bowdoin College, past Portland, the only city of reasonable size in Maine. At the border with New Hampshire on to a calm provincial road in northwestern direction. By that time, Åke was only halfway. The forests of New England glittered with bright autumn colours, a spectacle witnessed by the driver and a handful of passengers. Åke looked out of the window and took time for

Åke was excited when embarking on his long journey. His father brought him by car to Gothenburg. Subsequently, there were brief stops at Oslo and the airfield Keflavik on Iceland before touching down at New York. He only got a bit worried when he had a hard time figuring out the announcements by the stewardess during the final leg from JFK to Portland, Maine. If he was to endure a whole academic year in the States, he must be able to understand what people were staying, he rightly concluded. He

Paris never fails to enchant young people. ‘Perfect destination for a holiday together,’ Matthijs had put it when he proposed they meet again in the summer. Åke was enthusiast, although it meant asking for leave at work and spending his first salary on an air ticket. But it was their only chance to get together before his departure to Maine. Besides, he had never flown before and this would be a good practice for crossing the Atlantic in September. For Matthijs, it was different. He only needed

I could not resist the temptation of divulging for a moment into Swedish folklore with its unique traditions of celebrating graduation from high school. It is still clebrated in that way.

Thanks for this very good point. You put it better than I had formulated it in my own thoughts.

Readers have commented about references to specific chess games as being less relevant for non-chess players. My logic is that you cannot write about boys or young men who are fanatic about chess without offering a minimum of substance of the game they are so fond of. Otherwise it would be like writing about a a fan of rock star without adding someting about the music of that musician. Please don't worry about the chess details. The main point is that Åke, his two countrymen and Matthijs love chess almost to the point of obsession.