The horses were gone now. They were over at JT's place for the next couple of months.Our big diesel F-250 sat in the middle of the barn like a scarred...white whale. It was packed and fueled for our trip to Indiana for Thanksgiving and Georgia for Christmas. It was seven years old and bashed about but mechanically it was sound and would carry us easily the two-thousand miles to Georgia and then back again.. Its paint and body work bore the marks of encounters with fence posts and barb wire and. Jack Jones was John T. Jones’ father. John had being playing chess for years. His knowledge of strategy on the football field, of dummy passes and fake moves, had stood him in good stead; he had suckered Woody into a chess match deliberately. It was Woody’s turn to shout “FUCKKK!!!!”By this time, the pieces had been allocated, the teams were fixed. It was generally agreed by Marcus and Woody that telling their friends that it might not be quite the walkover they’d hoped wasn’t going to help. More

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