Danielle J's Altered Fates: Chess Prodigy ~ 01

As always, any comments or criticism are welcome. My email is: JllQU6335@aol.com

Cast
Henry "Hank" John Stark	a.k.a. Grace Chen
Peter "Pete" Lawrence Stark	a.k.a. Melody Chen. The Starks are brothers.
Randy Woodhouse -	Features Writer for the Palm Beach Post newspaper
Jonathan Woodhouse -	Son of Randy Woodhouse
Paul and Ellen Raymond -	Philanthropists and married couple living in Palm Beach, Florida
Fr. Pitor Kowalski -	Parochial Vicar, St. Edward's Catholic Church in Palm Beach
Detective Robert "Bob" Hughes -	Detective, Palm Beach County Sheriff's office
International Grandmaster Arnold Denker -	Former US and Florida State Chess Champion
Peter II and Marie Raymond -	Father and Mother of Paul Raymond. In-laws of Ellen Raymond
Peter, Sr. and Olivia Raymond -	Grandparents of Paul Raymond
Walter Brewer -	Handyman
Denise Calder -	Palm Beach County Sheriff's Deputy
Kim and Stacey Torrance -	Mother and daughter living in Lake Worth, Florida
Diana Elliot -	Social Worker, JFK Hospital
Vasily Smyslov -	Retired Russian Grandmaster, and former world Champ, 1953-54 and 56-57
Maritza Tavarez -	Single Mother living in Bradenton, Florida
Lisa Crittenden -	Asst. District Attorney for Palm Beach County
Andrew Soltis -	International Grandmaster and Chess Coach
Pamela Dietrich -	Lawyer specializing in Family law

Also, there is some chess terminology in the story. To help you understand, here is a brief glossary:

IM or International Master - A title given to a chess player after successfully achieving certain scores in two internationally sanctioned tournaments.

IGM or GM or International Grandmaster - The highest title a chess player can attain, except for World Champion. A player achieves this title the same way as for IM.

IM's and GM's can have any rating. Generally as a rule, Intl. Masters begin 2350 and higher and Intl. Grandmasters 2450 and higher. Current Men's World Champion Kramnik is rated approximately 2780. The Women's World Champion Xie Jun of China holds a rating in the 2600's.

Caro Kann, Nimzo-Indian, King's Indian, Queen's Gambit - Popular and well studied chess openings.

If the word book is used, it means an opening or position has been studied extensively.

One last bit. Some of the locales in the story really exist. I live in this area of Florida, and used locations I am familiar with for added realism. I did fudge a few details for dramatic effect or just to protect real people.

A Chess Prodigy - Age times 100 plus another 800 or, if eight years old, a rating of 1600 or higher.

It was a warm, sunny Florida day when Pete Stark rolled out of bed. He had just woken up from a sound sleep. The alarm clock in the small bedroom said 10:08. He immediately rolled out of bed and stood up.

'That's all,' Pete thought to himself, as he stretched his muscles. He then headed out of the bedroom and into the next door bathroom. A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom and headed to the kitchen. Pete was a thirty-two-year-old male who shared the apartment he was in with his brother Henry in Lantana, Florida. Both were divorced, and luckily, neither had any children so the small apartment was totally their own.

In the kitchen, Pete first checked the coffee. There was little left, and it had long since gone cold. So he made himself some instant coffee and toast, then read the day's Palm Beach Post.

After fifteen minutes Pete was finished eating and was working on his second cup of coffee. He went to the living room and turned on his computer. After it had finished booting up, he immediately signed on to America Online.

Once online, Pete checked his email. There were sixteen new messages. Three were spam, which he immediately deleted. Two were letters from his pen pals, Marcie in the Philippines and Yan in Singapore. Both were women in their twenties with whom he corresponded. Both were interested in meeting an American man for marriage. Pete wrote them at least once weekly, but knew marriage would never happen. Like, how would he get the money to fly to Singapore or Manila in the first place?

What most interested him was the email from three of his correspondence chess opponents. You see, Pete loved the game of chess. He was actually quite good at it. He held a correspondence rating of 2203, which was master strength. At that time he was busy playing thirty-one games, some via postcards he mailed every day and a few games that were played by email.

"Rick, you screwed up!" Pete said with a laugh, upon reading the email from one of his opponents, Richard Knudsen. Pete knew the move Rick had just played would cost him a piece, and therefore the game.

He checked the other two emails he'd received from his opponents, and then decided to set up his set so he could study the games.

Henry, or as he preferred, Hank Stark had been having a particularly trying day. The sprinkler system for the apartment house he maintained had not been functioning properly. He had spent the entire morning working on it, and all he had to show for it was a great deal of sweat and frustration.

Hank was Pete Stark's older brother, by three years. He and his brother looked pretty much alike, both being around 5'10 and 165 lbs.

It was almost 11:30 when Hank entered the apartment. He was hungry and looking forward to a brief rest. Immediately he saw his brother busy at his chess set. "Pete, I thought I told you that you needed to fix the Torrance's shower," he told his brother. The Torrances, Kim and her daughter, lived at a nearby apartment house that Hank and Pete also did the maintenance work for.

'Shit, Pete and his chess,' Hank thought to himself. It seemed to be all that mattered in his brother's life. Hank went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. At once a look of disgust came to his face. Hank headed back to the apartment door, but not before saying something to Pete. "Thanks a lot, asshole. I asked you to walk two blocks to the deli to get some lunch meat. You forgot totally about it!" he screamed, then slammed the door shut behind him.

"Sorry..." Pete muttered to the empty apartment. The Gonsalves game was starting to become interesting.

A half hour later, Henry and Pete were sitting down at their small kitchen table eating sandwiches. Hank had returned from the deli with the lunch meat he wanted. "I need you to go over to Avenue B today," Hank said, referring to the location of the second apartment house they did maintenance work for.

"Do I really have to?" Pete asked. He really wanted to work on the Gonsalves game. He also hadn't gone to collect their mail. He was looking forward to more games in the day's mail.

"Mrs. Torrance has been screaming for a week about her shower," Hank replied. "Not to mention problems with her sink. Yes, today."

"Calm down, brother, I'll go," Pete said. Well, he had to do his end of the work around the place, also. Hank had been kind enough to let him move in after his wife kicked him out. That Gonsalves game was just so interesting, he thought.

After they finished eating lunch, while Hank cleaned up the sink, Pete went and got dressed. "One last thing. Make sure you clean the junk out of the maintenance room before coming home." Hank was still referring to the same apartment house in which the Torrances lived.

Pete and Henry Stark both left the apartment at the same time. While Hank went to the back to finish working on the sprinklers, Pete walked to the old used Volvo he owned and climbed in and drove off.

It was less than a ten minute drive to the Avenue B apartments in Lake Worth. Once there, Pete let himself in to the Torrance residence. Henry had keys to most of the renters' apartments. This allowed he and Pete to do work when the people were not home. Kim Torrance was a widower in her early thirties who was some kind of saleswoman. Her daughter, Stacey, was in the first or second grade.

Pete immediately went to in the Torrance's shower. It had been leaking. That was easy enough to fix, simply by tightening the shower head. The leak had caused further problems with the shower walls' grouting, however. This required Pete to spend much of an hour hunched over in the shower cleaning it up.

Once finished in the bathroom, he went to the kitchen. Mrs. Torrance had complained about the sink getting clogged up constantly. Pete opened the doors below the sink, and after positioning himself on his back, went to work. While he was underneath the sink he thought he heard the apartment door open, and then some voices.

"Ahhhhhh!" said a female voice. It startled Pete, causing him to hit his head on the back of the cabinet. He pushed himself out from underneath the cabinet, and saw that Mrs. Torrance had arrived home with her daughter.

"Oh, I am so sorry," said Kim. Kim, or Mrs. Torrance, was a very attractive Asian female, standing around 5'6 with very clear Asian features. Her hair was black, straight, and fell half way down her back. All in all, a gorgeous female, Pete thought to himself. Next to her stood a young girl, her daughter Stacey. She was more Amerasian in appearance.

"I am so sorry," Mrs. Torrance said again. "I was just startled to see someone in the apartment. I forgot someone was coming to fix things."

"No problem. I was almost finished," Pete replied, then got back down on the floor to finish the job.

'Nice ass,' Pete thought to himself as he watched Mrs. Torrance walk away. Too bad she had a kid. He avoided women with kids like the plague. Nevertheless, Kim Torrance was one hot looking babe.

Once the job in the kitchen was completed, Pete straightened up the small mess he made, said good-bye to Mrs. Torrance, and let himself out of the apartment. He first started in the direction of the car, then turned around and went in the other direction. He remembered Hank's request to clean out the maintenance room.

The room was cluttered with garbage and empty boxes. There was also a large thirty-three gallon trash can that appeared totally full. Pete began by taking the empty boxes around the back to the garbage dumpster, just throwing them in. On the way back he turned the corner toward the maintenance room.

"Hi," said Stacey Torrance. She was about eight years old with black hair, bangs in the front and her hair falling to just below her shoulders. She was wearing a green and white T-shirt and white pants.

"Don't you have friends to play with?" Pete said, once back in the room picking up the next load of junk.

"No, Carla and Brittany aren't home yet," she replied as Pete began back to the garbage dumpster. On the way he dropped some cardboard. Stacey picked it up and followed him to the dumpster. Once there, he threw the next group of boxes into the bin, including the cardboard given to him by Stacey.

"Kid, maybe it's time you got back to mommy," Pete said, thinking what a bratty kid she was.

"Yeah. Bye!" Stacey then ran off to the apartment house. Pete had just one more trip to make with the garbage can.

The can was totally full, and therefore quite heavy. He hauled it all the way back to the dumpster. It took both hands to do it. When Pete got to the dumpster he stopped a moment to rest. When he began to pick up the can to dump it, something caught his eye.

"That's interesting," Pete said, as he climbed up the side of the dumpster and reached in. He pulled out a metal necklace that appeared to have some medallion on it. "I wonder whose this is?" he muttered, thinking it could be valuable. It sure didn't look valuable. Pete took the garbage can and dumped it, then before going back he put the medallion in his Volvo parked nearby. He returned the garbage can to the maintenance room, then went back to his car for the drive back to Lantana.

On the way back, Pete stopped at the Post Office to empty his PO box, then drove the two blocks to the apartment. When he got back home he went right inside. Hank wasn't there, and Pete figured he was still out working on the sprinklers.

"Well, I don't know what to do with you," Pete said, taking another look at the necklace. He went to his bedroom and placed it on the dresser. Then he took the mail and went back to where the computer and chess set were. He had some moves to study.

The next day, Hank got an early start. There was a lot of work to be done around the apartment house. Before starting he left Pete a note saying what he wanted done. On the list was to take care of their laundry.

Pete got up around 9:15. While eating breakfast he read his brother's note. No problem about the laundry. He had to just load and unload the machines. It left him plenty of time to work on his chess games.

After starting the first load of laundry, Pete walked the two blocks to the Post Office. There was just one postcard and some other mail. The postcard was for his game with Martin Van Lith; Mr. Van Lith announced he was resigning.

"Finally," Pete said on the way home. In his opinion, the resignation was ten moves overdue.

In the next hour and a half, Pete worked on laundry and some badly needed housework. Then he returned to the laundry room to retrieve the first load that was now dry. Once back in the apartment he brought the clothes basket to his bedroom and began picking out the laundry that was his, not Hank's.

During the sorting process he placed some of the laundry belonging to Hank on top of the dresser. It ended up on top of the strange necklace he'd found the day before.

After emptying the basket of his own clothes, he picked up the clothes on the dresser. In the process Pete picked up the necklace which was touching some of the clothes and dropped it on the floor. He picked the necklace back up. For a moment he felt a spark, but thought nothing of it. He placed the necklace back on the dresser.

Lunch was not far away, but Pete decided to go online and check his email. He started up his computer and immediately signed on to AOL. All the time he did this he was feeling rather odd. He just thought nothing of it, more interested in the coming online process.

"You've got mail!" America On Line said as he signed on. Pete opened his mailbox. There were four emails there. Two were spam, but one was from one of his chess opponents, Mark Placek. He opened this email first.

The Placek game was a Caro-Kann in the early middle game. Pete decided to set it up on his chessboard and study it.

It was 11:55 when Hank Stark called it a morning and went back to the apartment for lunch. It had been a tiring morning, and he was hungry. "I'm home," he said, coming into the apartment. He began to walk in, and suddenly stopped.

"What the fuck?" Hank said. He swore he was seeing his exact double, but wearing his brother's clothes.

"Why are you staring?" Pete asked, looking up from the chess board. His voice did not sound quite right.

"Yeah. Who else were you expecting, the tooth fairy?" Pete replied. His voice sounded really different.

Pete got up and looked in the mirror hanging on a nearby closet door. "Holy shit!" was all he could say. He was the spitting image of Hank.

Neither brother was much in the mood for lunch. Instead of eating, they tried to figure out what had happened.

Pete told Hank everything he had done that day, carefully retracing his steps. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It had been quite a normal day.

"Yes, I took the basket to my room first," Pete said, "then I took out all of my clothes. All the clothes were mixed in together."

Pete thought for a moment. Then he picked up the necklace from the dresser top he'd found the day before.

"I found it yesterday," Pete said, then went on to explain how he found it while over at the Avenue B apartment house. "That's the only thing I've done out of the ordinary. When I was picking out some laundry I accidentally picked up the necklace."

Pete was never a believer in magic, nor was Hank, but there was no other explanation. Pete examined the medallion closer. It looked like cheap junk. On one side it had a picture of a fairy or something. "Wanna look yourself?" he said, offering Hank the necklace.

"It must do something if I touch it to yours or someone else's clothes," Pete said. He was only guessing. He tried touching the necklace to his own clothes, then himself. They waited, but nothing happened.

Pete tried it repeatedly; nothing happened. It wasn't upsetting being Hank's twin, but it was unnerving to both brothers.

Neither did any further work that day. Both sat around the apartment, mostly in silence. Dinner was only half eaten. After a wasted period of sitting around, Pete went back to his chess games.

This unnerved Hank. 'You get changed into me, and all you can think of is chess,' he thought. Exasperated, he turned on the television set. He settled into watching the college basketball games that were on ESPN that night.

Periodically through the evening, Pete kept trying to use the necklace again, hoping to repeat the same way it had been used in the morning. Nothing happened.

Pete tried watching the basketball games, but he really wasn't in the mood. Either he was permanently stuck as his brother's twin, there was some kind of time delay for changes, or he was using the necklace the wrong way. He had no idea which.

Neither brother was much in the mood for sleep. So both stayed up watching TV, first Leno, then O'Brien.

Shortly after 1 am, Pete decided to try the necklace again. This time he felt a spark. He remembered feeling the spark in the morning. He decided to check the mirror. Soon enough, he noticed the mustache on his, or rather Hank's face begin to disappear. Hank had a mustache, while Pete was clean shaven.

Hank came running to look. "Yeah, you may be right." Turns out he was; in about twenty minutes or so, Pete was back to his usual self.

Pete looked at the necklace again. Hank kept his distance. There must be some kind of time delay, Pete figured. "This thing could be valuable. Let's hang on to it for a while."

"Not if we're careful." Pete took the necklace and went to the kitchen. There he found a ziploc storage bag, and put the necklace inside. Then he took the bag and placed it in the drawer of the night stand next to his bed.

The next few weeks passed without event. Hank still did most of the maintenance work around the apartments. He always had to cajole Pete into doing work. It could get really annoying.

One Saturday Pete was invited to a former classmate's wedding in Bradenton. Borrowing the Volvo for the weekend, he went on his own. Hank stayed at the apartment.

Hank was feeling bored that Saturday evening. He was divorced, and had no girlfriend at the time. With little to do he settled down to read the Palm Beach Post. Mostly the sports pages, but then some of the other sections' stories. One was about a serial rapist that was wanted by the police. Another was about the new Bishop for the local Archdiocese. The usual local news.

With nothing else to do, Hank picked up Pete's copy of Chess Life. He knew how to play the game, but never had Pete's passion or ability. There were articles about the recent US championship in Seattle, a tournament in Spain, and another about a scholastic tournament in New York. There were various feature articles and columns throughout.

There was also advertisements for tournaments upcoming. Some had first prizes of over a thousand dollars or more. "Too bad Pete doesn't make money playing chess," Hank said, putting down the magazine and turning the television set back on.

Then came the following Tuesday, and Pete was back from the wedding. He was also back to spending too much time on his chess. Hank had asked him to go fix the door to the Michaels' apartment Monday night. Well, on the way back to the apartment for lunch, Hank discovered the door was still busted. He was pissed.

Not surprisingly, his brother was studying one of his chess games when he got back to the apartment. "You and your fucking chess games," Hank said upon approaching Pete. "I asked you to fix the door on #15, and you didn't bother to do it! A fifteen minute job."

"You spend too much time on that chess. I just wish you could make money at it."

"I'll go fix it right now," Pete replied, ignoring the barb. He got up and left the apartment.

Hank helped himself to lunch and sat down to eat. The day's mail was on the dinner table. Included in it was the most recent Chess Life magazine. Hank read it for a bit while chewing, then saw one of the tournament advertisements.

"Yeah, low master level," Pete admitted. 2213 was his current rating, but that was probably a little lower than his strength. He could hold his own with 2400's, so strength-wise, he was in the 2300's. He was surprised by Hank talking about chess.

"Dad taught you when you were six or seven." Pete nodded. "Didn't you play in a couple of tournaments as a kid?"

"Yes." Pete remembered playing in scholastic events. It stopped when their father died. Mom didn't have the time to take him to games. "Why?"

"Look at this advertisement," Hank said, pushing the magazine across the table. "It's $1000 for first prize."

"But it's for kids under twelve," Pete replied, after reading the advertisement.

"Yeah, but how do I get to be..." Pete began to say. "Are you thinking of that necklace?"

"Yep." The Florida Scholastics was to be held in West Palm Beach in five weeks. The prize for twelve and under was $1000. "You'd be a shoo in."

Yes, he would, but how would they get clothes to do the body change, Pete thought. He mentioned this detail to Hank.

"Leave that to me," Hank replied. If the plan worked, at least Pete's chess playing abilities would be put to use for making some dough.

Ten days before the Florida Scholastics, Hank Stark got going to take the first step in his plan. He made the drive to the Avenue B apartments. The plan was to get a boy's shirt and pants with which to trigger the necklace. The idea was for Hank to escort Pete as a young boy to the tournament. They would be father and son.

As maintenance man, Hank had keys to the various apartments. There was a hitch, though. Some residents changed the locks without passing on copy keys to management right away. He knew a few families had not, one in particular with a nine-year-old son. So, taking his tool box with him, Hank innocently headed for apartment 23. He knocked on the door, but no one answered. He grabbed his key cluster, then put the appropriate key in the door.

So, what to do? There were only four families in the building with children between six and ten. Hank didn't have good keys for all their apartments. He wanted to avoid the apartment complex where he and Pete lived. It would look unusual if someone saw a twin of one of their children.

Then he thought of one other possibility. He headed around the side of the building. There was another family in apartment 14. Again, Hank knocked on the door, but no one answered. Most people at the apartment complex were working families. During the day there were only three or four apartments occupied. He tried the key he had for the apartment. This time it worked.

It was a two bedroom affair. Hank tried the first bedroom. It obviously belonged to the parents. So he went to the second bedroom and checked the closet. There he selected one piece of clothing. While also in the room, he noted sizes of underwear and sneakers the child used. He made small notes in the notepad he carried in his shirt pocket.

Hank was getting ready to leave the apartment when he started to think. Well, he knew Pete wasn't going to like his alteration to the plan, but it was still going to happen. Hank thought out the change of plans. He had one more thing to do. He went to the parent's bedroom and removed one piece of clothing there, also. Again Hank did some checking on clothing sizes, writing them down on his notepad. Since he was now finished, Hank left the apartment and went back to the Volvo. He drove off.

On the way home, Hank stopped at a Kmart. There he got one full set of clothes for both the parent and the child, using the sizes he wrote down. He got a few odd looks in the clothing department, but ignored them. He just hoped the clothes he bought fit.

It was the Friday night before the Florida Scholastics. Hank and Pete had finished eating dinner and cleaning up.

"Why change tonight?" Pete asked. He was going along with Hank's plan so far, but didn't want to be a little boy any longer than needed.

"Stop the whining," Hank said. "We've got to go to Kmart for more clothes, and you won't have time in the morning."

"All ready?" Hank asked. Pete nodded. He handed Pete the clothing he had borrowed.

Pete hesitated for a moment, but took the medallion and touched the clothing to it, and then himself. He felt the same spark as before.

"Go to your room and get dressed when the change is completed," Hank told him. "I don't want to see you till it's finished."

Pete went to his bedroom and closed the door. By that time he was already beginning to feel odd. Once inside he took off all his clothing; they had already become incredibly baggy.

Pete was pretty sure he was going to become the nine-year-old Emerson boy. Eric Emerson had blonde hair and blue eyes.

It wasn't long before Pete could see the room getting bigger. He was shrinking, and looking down at himself, he noted that all his body hair was disappearing. It was soon all gone. His hands and feet were also shrinking.

Pete wasn't planning to watch it in the mirror, but decided to look. "That isn't right," he said, upon seeing his reflection. His voice had cracked. He was shrinking to the size of an eight or nine-year-old child, but Eric Emerson had hair that was a lighter shade of blonde than his own. His hair was turning dark brown, even black.

Something else was disappearing - his penis. Pete looked down, and sure enough, it was gone. Another look in the mirror, and he saw his hair lengthening, and it was now black. The shape of his eyes was changing, too. Then it dawned on him. "I'm becoming that brat, Stacey Torrance. I'm a little girl!"

Not bothering to get dressed, Pete ran from the room. She saw no sign of her brother, so she went to Hank's bedroom. She opened the door and went in. The sight which greeted Pete was a surprise - the naked butt and all of Kim Torrance in her natural beauty.

Hank turned around, having not noticed her brother enter the room. "Get back to your room and put your clothes on," she said, sounding exactly like Kim Torrance would, talking to her daughter.

"Go. I'll explain when you're done." Pete complied, and left the room. Back inside his room he took the clothes out of the bag. They were unisex in appearance, for the most part. A yellow T-shirt, light blue pants, a bag of girls underwear, one set of sneakers and some white socks. She put the clothes on and went back out to the living room. Hank was still in the bedroom, apparently. She took a seat on the couch and waited.

Hank walked out of the bedroom two minutes later. She was wearing a green and white striped blouse and tan pants.

"Why this?" Pete asked in a tiny voice. She had agreed to becoming a child for the tournament. But a boy, not a girl.

Hank explained about the day she went to the Avenue B apartments as she took a seat in the arm chair facing the TV. That the Emerson apartment was locked. If they wished to do their plan, there was only one other choice, Stacey Torrance. "And with you as Stacey, we both had to look the part."

Hank wasn't at all crazy about being a woman, but it was just two days. The gain if Pete won was considerable. It was worth the effort. "It wouldn't look right with you as Stacey and me as your father."

Pete sat in silence. She was really pissed at her brother. "I get that part. But I don't want to be any shitty girl!"

Hank was already finding out that long hair, while very attractive, was hell to care for. Whenever Kim had last worn the outfit he had selected, she hadn't had her hair cut in some time. It fell most of the way down Hank's back, and she was getting it stuck between her back and the chair.

"Okay," Pete said, speaking up. "If you can be a pussy for two days, I can." They both laughed.

"We've got to settle on names." Hank thought of two girls he went to high school with. "How about...I am Grace Chen, and you are Melody?"

"We'd better start using the names. From now till the tournament is over, I'm Mommy, and you're Melody."

"Yes, we've got to act the parts or people will get suspicious," Grace said, and Melody agreed.

"Well, Mellllllody, we've got to go to Kmart and get some more clothes." Grace grabbed the purse she had bought ten days earlier, taking the money out of her man's wallet and placing it in the new wallet. Taking Melody by hand, they both left the apartment.

Once at Kmart, Grace and Melody parked the car and walked into the store. On the way in a man in his twenties held the door open and gave Grace the once over.

Inside, they headed for the girl's department. Melody didn't want anything to do with wearing a dress, so with Grace she picked out two more unisex outfits. In the women's department, Grace got two more blouses, plus one pants and one set of jeans. They also picked up some supplies for the apartment, paper towels, toilet paper and laundry detergent.

For all appearances, they were a mother and daughter doing some shopping. No one thought differently.

After paying for the things they bought, Grace and Melody drove back to the apartment. They went to bed early that evening. It was going to be a busy weekend.

The Florida Scholastics were being held at the Airport Holiday Inn in West Palm Beach. Play was to begin at 9 am, so Grace and Melody arrived at 8. Grace registered Melody for the tournament and paid the $40 entry fee. Melody was entered in the ten and under division; Grace gave the date of May 18, 1991 as Melody's birthday, making Melody just a few days short of eight years old. May 18 was actually Pete's birthday.

Till the first round pairings were announced and play began, Melody and Grace sat in silence. Melody couldn't help but feel that many of the children were spoiled brats in her opinion. As if that weren't enough, many were crying at the prospect of being separated from their parents. In the game room, no parents were allowed, just the organizers.

At 8:45 the pairings were listed. Melody Chen would play Jonathan Woodhouse on board 17.

Before going into the game room, Grace wished Melody luck. Once inside, Melody went straight to the table at which she would be playing. Soon enough her opponent, a blonde haired boy of about the same age, took the chair across from her. Before the tournament began, the director made some acknowledgments and announcements. Included was a thank you to the sponsors, several local corporations and the Raymond Foundation. "Good luck, boys and girls. Play can begin."

Jonathan punched the chess clock. Both players would have sixty minutes for sixty moves.

Melody, who had the white pieces, opened by pushing her queen pawn two squares and then punching the chess clock.

Outside the room, Grace just waited. A gentleman in his mid or late thirties with curly brown hair took a chair next to her. "Melody Chen's mother?" he asked. Grace just nodded. "My name is Randy Woodhouse. Your daughter is playing my son Jonathan right now."

Among the things Hank had worried about or knew he would dislike about being a woman would be attention from guys. Either Kim Torrance or her copy, Grace Chen, was an incredibly attractive woman. Already Grace was drawing unwanted attention from men.

Randy kept on attempting to engage Grace in small talk, but Grace pretty much kept quiet. He offered to buy her a cup of coffee while they waited, but she declined.

A little over an hour after play began Jonathan Woodhouse came out of the room and went right to his father. "I lost."

"Better luck next time," Randy said, hugging Jonathan while trying to encourage his son.

By this time Melody had also come out of the room. "I won," she said with a smile to Grace.

"Well, it's been nice talking," Randy said to Grace. He and Jonathan then went for a walk.

"That girl is good," Jonathan told his father, as they talked about the game he had just played.

The rest of Saturday breezed by for Melody. She crushed her next three opponents, David Small, Midas Augustine and Gregory Staley.

To be honest, Melody found it boring playing these children. She found none of the games particularly challenging. Small and Staley both blundered away pawns in the first ten moves of play. Augustine managed to lose a knight right off.

None of the four games that day had taken any great effort. At the end of the first day's play, Melody was in an eleven way tie for first.

While Melody played, Grace mostly sat and waited. A few more men tried to engage her in small talk, but Grace ignored them. She made several trips to the ladies' room, and on one occasion she absent-mindedly walked into the men's room. Inside, a man made an obscene gesture to her before she hurried to the ladies' room.

Grace also made the mistake of going to the hotel bar. She thought she could watch television there in peace. This was an even bigger mistake. Guys seemed to flock to her. The sight of a woman in a bar seemed to mean that she was lonely. One bar patron invited Grace to join him in his room. He had 'something to show her'.

Just after 9 pm, Grace and Melody left the hotel for the drive back to Lantana. Both recounted the events of the day to one another.

"I sure hope you win this," Grace said. "One more day of guys hitting on me I do not look forward to."

Just like the previous day, Melody won her first two games with little effort. She now stood 6-0, tied for first with an Adam Bennet. They were the only players in her age bracket still left with a perfect score.

During the morning play, some of the tournament officials started to note Melody's play. For a seven-year-old, she had a remarkable comprehension of the game. Tactics, strategy, even opening theory. "I never saw a girl or boy this age play like this," said tournament co-director Ray Burry to his assistant, Ron Robbins.

"Me, neither," Ron replied. "She is remarkable. Maybe we should ask the mother where her daughter learned to play the game."

"Well, she's outside," Mr. Burry replied. "This girl has to have some kind of coach. Even so, she is extraordinary." Grace was to be spared the grilling, however. Both were called to another game room, and never got back to the task they'd discussed.

After having lunch with Grace, Melody returned to the room for the round seven game. Grace wished her luck before going, even giving her a small kiss. This embarrassed Melody to no end.

Once play started, Melody found she was in for her toughest game. Adam Bennet played a pretty good game. She came out of the opening with only a small advantage.

While Melody was inside, the waiting began again. All Grace did was wait and fend off men, it seemed. Well, the $1000 first prize would make it worth the aggravation.

"Hello, you must be Melody's mom," said a tall, somewhat obese man. "Bill Bennet, I'm Adam's father."

Bill extended his hand to Grace. She shook hands with him. He had a forceful handshake, probably too so. It made Grace wince for a moment. Once her hand was released, she used her other hand to massage the pain away.

"Your girl is pretty good," Bill said. "My son finished third in last year's games. This is going to be his year. Your daughter probably has another year to go."

"Adam is a lot like his Pop." Bill Bennet went on boastfully about how he played a pretty good game of chess himself. Men just couldn't help but brag, Grace thought. Whoa, why had she so easily taken the female side?

"Yes, he's a big boy, just like his father," Mr. Bennet said. Grace thought that yes, Adam was much taller than Melody. But the look on Mr. Bennet's face was telling Grace that Bill was talking about something entirely different.

'Sheesh, why do all guys think with their dicks!' Grace thought to herself, thinking she knew the real point of Bill Bennet's talk. She excused herself, and headed to the ladies' room. In two days as a woman, Grace had already discovered that was the safest place to avoid the advances of men.

In the early middlegame, Adam Bennet finally erred, losing a pawn. Melody quickly seized the initiative in the game.

An hour and a half later, Melody and Adam emerged from the room. Grace had resumed her seat in a chair just outside the room. The look on Melody's and Adam's faces told her what the result was. Adam had his head down, while Melody was grinning from ear to ear.

"Hank, (oops)...Oh, Mommy, I won!" Melody said to Grace. Luckily, no one caught her slip other than Grace.

Melody had to win only one more game, and the $1000 prize would be theirs. Grace mentioned she was hungry, and Melody confirmed she was, also. So they decided to get a bite to eat while they had time. But first Grace had a little unfinished business to take care of.

"Well, I hope the Pop performs better than the son," Grace said, dripping with sarcasm, and to Bill Bennet's obvious annoyance. Then she and Melody headed off to the hotel restaurant.

It was three and a half hours later, and it was the awards ceremony time. Melody had won her final game, taking her to 8-0 and giving her clear first prize in the ten and under division. All in all, Melody and Grace won $1200 for Melody's play those two days.

Grace was tired and feeling a little unwell when the awards ceremony began. She just wanted to get the check, grab Melody and get back to the apartment. The faster she got back to being Henry Stark the better.

A couple in their thirties was introduced. They were Paul and Ellen Raymond. They represented the Raymond foundation, one of the tournament sponsors. The Raymonds would be giving out the trophies and monetary prizes.

"The winner of the ten and under division of the Florida Scholastics is Ms. Melody Chen," announced Ellen. Grace and Melody got up from their chairs, and went to the front of the room. The remaining parents and players in the room were applauding. Among them were Randy and Jonathan Woodhouse.

"Congratulations, Melody," said Ellen with a beaming, even envious smile. She handed Melody a small trophy that had a gold King standing in the center.

"A check for $1200, setting up a scholarship fund for Ms. Chen, is the first prize. Congratulations, Melody." The young girl curtsied for the couple, then was given a hug by Ellen Raymond. Grace took the check.

'A fucking scholarship fund?' Grace thought to herself. What good would a scholarship fund do him and Pete? Grace and Melody returned to their seats for the rest of the ceremony. Both were disappointed at the prize.

Once the ceremony was over, Grace and Melody headed off to the parking lot. Just before they got to the hotel exit they were intercepted by Randy and Jonathan Woodhouse. "Mrs. Chen, I would just like to congratulate you and Melody on her fine performance," Randy went on to say after an initial hello. "I am a writer for the Palm Beach Post; with your permission, I would like to write a story about Melody."

"I don't really know," Grace said, just wanting to get back to the apartment and life as Henry Stark.

"That's understandable," Randy said, handing Grace his business card. It had his contact numbers at the Post, plus his cell phone number. "Think about it, and call me. It's been nice meeting you."

The Woodhouses left, but not before Randy noticed Melody and Grace Chen climb into a grey Volvo and drive off.

On the drive back to Lantana, Grace made her annoyance known about the prize fund. "Two days of being stuck as a dame, and all we get is a scholarship check?" she said.

"Hank, I didn't know," Melody spoke up. She was beginning to feel sleepy. She may be really a man, but her child body tired easily. The two days of chess had been mentally fatiguing.

"Well, this is the last time we are going to do this." Grace ranted for a few minutes, then noticed that Melody had fallen asleep in the front seat.

"Oh, heck, baby brother, it's both our faults," Grace admitted, as she continued to drive to Lantana.

Five minutes later they were back at their apartment. Grace roused Melody from her sleep, and they left the car and went inside. Melody went straight to her bedroom, while Grace checked the answering machine. There were five messages, all from tenants needing some kind of repair work.

Once finished with the messages, Grace called out for Melody to come for the switch back. Melody didn't come. So after a minute Grace went to check on her baby brother.

"Oh, heck, Pete, if you can live one more night like this, I can," Grace said, admitting that she was tired also. She headed to the bathroom. An hour later, after mostly tangling with the drying of her long hair, Grace went to sleep.

Grace woke up just after 6:30 am. There was going to be plenty of work to do around the apartment complex, so she wanted to change back and get an early start.

The first thing Grace did was use the bathroom. Something immediately grabbed her attention.

"Shit, I'm on the rag!" Grace said, seeing a large spot of blood in the panty she was wearing. Since late afternoon the day before she'd been feeling odd, and now she knew why. She was determined not to waste any more time before switching back to Hank.

Not even waiting for Melody to wake up, Grace took off all her clothes. Then she took the medallion, touching it to one of Hank's shirts and then herself. Immediately, she felt a spark.

At once Grace felt the changes begin. She didn't even bother to put any clothes on, and just walked around naked.

Grace's hair had shortened to almost Hank's normal length, and besides that, Hank's hairy chest was beginning to appear when Melody emerged from the bedroom.

Melody ignored the sight of the half man half woman, and headed to the kitchen. She was hungry and wanted some cereal. Hank had grabbed a shirt and boxer shorts and put them on.

"So, you're switching back already," Melody asked, as she was getting herself some cereal. She needed some help from her brother.

"Yeah, there's a bunch of work to do around the apartment houses," Grace/Hank said, the voice being halfway between Grace's and Hank's but getting closer to Hank's. Hank left Melody with her cereal and went to the bathroom. He was going to shave and shower quickly.

Once in the bathroom Hank took his clothes off. His body was almost back to normal. All but his penis, that was. He still had female anatomy down there.

Hank took the electric shaver out and was getting ready to begin when he noticed his facial hair was beginning to recede.

That wasn't the only thing. His chest was getting puffy. Like it did the first time. Grace's breasts were growing back.

But why? Hank was almost in a panic, and walked back out to the kitchen. He didn't even bother to put clothes back on.

Melody looked up from her breakfast to see what she thought was her brother stark naked. "You know I prefer not to see you naked when I'm eating," Melody said, then noticed that something weird was happening. Why was Hank becoming Grace again?

"Fuck, why am I becoming Grace again?" Hank could almost hear the voice of Grace returning.

Melody stopped eating. Her brother continued to change, and in five minutes the body of Grace was back.

"You know, if I wasn't a little girl, I'd find you hot," Melody said, thinking it was funny. It wasn't so funny after Grace spanked her on the butt.

"This isn't funny!" Grace said, bordering on panic. She grabbed a shirt and covered her naked body.

"Tell me what you did this morning," Melody asked, still smarting from the spanking.

Grace recounted her acts of the morning. "Yeah, and Grace or I am on the rag!" she said, as she had already begun cramping.

"Maybe that's why," Melody said. "You can't change because you're having a period."

Grace just about sank onto the living room couch. Melody got up from the kitchen chair and joined her in the living room.

"You'd better get switched back now. There's a ton of shit that needs to be done," Grace said. Melody asked where the medallion was, and Grace told her. Melody ran and grabbed it, and headed into Pete's bedroom.

Grace just sat contemplating her fate in silence for thirty minutes. Four or five days on the rag wasn't something she looked forward to. Then Pete emerged as himself from the bedroom.

"Well, you've got a full day ahead, baby brother," Grace said. "First, take down all the messages on the answering machine." Grace went on to give Pete a rather lengthy list.

"Most certainly, I do. I can't do it like this!" Grace replied. "And one last thing, you've got to go to Winn-Dixie right now."

"To get me some sanitary napkins, asshole!" Neither Grace nor Pete were going to find the next few days a pleasant experience.

Randy Woodhouse got to his desk at the Palm Beach Post just after 10 in the morning. Earlier in the morning Randy returned Jonathan to his mother. Randy was divorced from Jonathan's mother, but he got to see Jonathan three weekends a month, and for an entire month during the summer.

There were several messages for Randy, and he also checked his Post email account. He'd been a feature writer for the Post since 1990. At the moment he was working on two stories, one of which he expected to be in the Post's accent section later that week.

As a reporter, Randy was always looking for new stories. While Jonathan had finished 3-5 in the tournament that weekend, Randy could not fail to note the performance of seven-year-old Melody Chen. It seemed remarkable a girl could play that well at that young an age.

Heck, maybe that would make a good story for the Post. Supposedly the girl lived in the Lake Worth area. His editors usually loved local interest stories.

So Randy went to the office of his editor, Matt Blackburn. Before entering, he knocked on the door, then stuck his head in.

"I got a story idea I wanted to run by you." Randy mentioned the girl, Melody Chen.

"Yeah, I read Douglas’ article." Matt was referring to Post reporter Anne Douglas, who had covered the scholastics the previous weekend. "If you can get an interview, go for it."

Pete had tons of work to do, himself. After going to Winn-Dixie, he had a nonstop string of jobs to do around the apartment house. He certainly had no time for chess.

Going back to the apartment at lunch had not been any fun. Hank, or rather Grace was acting like Pete's ex-wife when he used to be married and she was on the rag. Plus, it was the first time ever Pete found himself looking forward to being out of the apartment.

It remained that way through Friday. Pete did the work that Hank normally did, while Grace remained confined to the apartment. The cramps were gone sometime Tuesday, but the blood was not; nor was the medallion working. Grace's mood did not get better.

Then Tuesday night, Grace just about flipped out. She had gotten sick of caring for her long hair and resolved to do something about it. The next day, she walked to a hair salon across from the post office. She got a new hairdo. While Grace's new hair style left her hair falling about an inch above her shoulders, it was a lot more manageable.

On Wednesday night, Pete made the poor decision of asking Grace if she would like to find out how sex was for women. He certainly found the body of Grace very attractive. Her response was not very lady like. She was cursing and screaming while throwing any object not nailed down until Pete fled from the apartment. He spent the evening in a vacant apartment, sleeping on the floor while Grace calmed down.

Then on Friday night, Grace tried the medallion again. Her panty had only been showing spotting in the morning and had stopped by early evening. Thirty minutes later, Hank emerged from the bedroom. "Next time the garbage is picked up, I want you to get rid of this fucking thing!" he yelled.

"Settle down, Hank," Pete said, looking up from the television. Hank was helping himself to a beer from the refrigerator.

"That's easy for you to say," Hank replied, opening the beer. "What do we have to show for last weekend? A scholarship fund and me on the rag. Or in other words, squat."

So they screwed up the last weekend. Pete admitted that. But this was a rare year for chess in South Florida. Three major tournaments would be in the South Florida area between May and Labor Day. He told Hank what he was thinking.

"Well, let's put the medallion somewhere safe in the meantime." Taking the medallion and the blouse Grace had worn that day, Hank sealed them all in a ziploc bag. Once that was done, Pete took the bag and put it in the night stand next to his bed.

The US Chess Open was seven weeks away, and was to be played in Key Biscayne, Florida. Lantana was only seventy-five miles away.

The Stark brothers spent the next seven weeks doing their daily routines. Pete still seemed more interested in his chess games than helping Hank with the maintenance work around the two apartment houses.

During that same time, Randy Woodhouse was becoming frustrated in his search to find the Chens. He had checked the phone books; there was no listing. Nor was any Melody Chen enrolled in a Palm Beach County school. Randy even tried contacting a few private schools. This proved to be equally fruitless. The search for the Chens was proving frustrating for the reporter, but there were many plausible reasons he could not find them.

Maybe Mrs. Chen lived with a boyfriend, or their phone number was unlisted. Randy had seen no wedding ring, so he thought the woman was single. Maybe Melody was being home schooled. Grace Chen seemed an intelligent woman, maybe that accounted for Melody's excellence at chess.

Randy also knew the US Open would be coming to Florida in July. Maybe he could catch up to the Chens then.

Pete and Henry discussed whether Melody should make another try at the US Open. The stakes would be quite big, at $2500. But there were drawbacks, also. First, it required both men to stay as women for two weeks. They would make an almost daily commute from Lantana to Key Biscayne for the fourteen days over which twelve games would be played. There would not be adequate time to switch back and forth from being men to women. So they would have to stay as women. After Hank's recent experience as Grace, he did not really want to be a woman again. But the potential gain was very tempting.

Also, expenses would be more than playing in West Palm Beach. Both females would need more clothes, plus a considerable amount of money would be spent on gas and food. Still, the Starks thought they could turn a nice profit.

The competition would also be stronger at the US Open. Players were known to come from around the world to play in it. It certainly would take strong play from Melody to win any prizes.

But unlike the prizes at the Scholastics, the prizes were cash. First prize for the best finish for anyone ten or under was $1,000. Peter felt confident Melody could do it. She also had an outside chance at getting a prize for any women players if she could finish in the top six women at the tournament.

Just like with the Scholastics, Pete and Hank used the medallion the night before. Hank was careful to use the blouse he wore just before returning to himself the last time. This time there would be no chance of his having a period.

Again, the US Open was a twelve game chess affair over fourteen days, being played on Key Biscayne. Play would begin every afternoon at 3 pm. If any games were adjourned, there would be play the next morning at 10. Leaving enough time for the ninety minute commute, Grace and Melody left their Lantana apartment every day at 1 pm.

Prior to the tournament, both brothers applied to the apartment owners to be able to take their two week vacation allocations. It was accepted, so while Melody was playing, Grace did not have to worry about any work needing to be done.

If anyone saw the Chens and asked who they were, they would say they were friends of the Starks and were just borrowing the apartment for a few weeks. As it was, no one ever bothered asking.

"I'm going to hate this shit. Being stuck as a dame for two weeks is going to be no fun," Hank said, while driving to Miami the first day of play, which was July 1st. "You'd better win, is all I say."

Melody was confident. There was a $1000 prize for the best score, just for a player ten years old or younger. She knew she could win that at least.

Grace and Melody arrived in Key Biscayne at 1 pm on the first. In addition to the $50 junior entry fee, Grace had to pay $15 for a Junior US Chess Federation membership. Since Melody had no prior rated tournament play, she was an unrated player. High unrated in the tournament meant another $500 in possible winnings.

Melody was a bit embarassed that she had to have a phone book added to the seat of any of the chairs she'd be using, since the tables and chairs were all adult sized, with the assumption being made that all the youngsters playing would be boys and girls big enough to handle them. Melody, with her very small size, fell short of fitting. However, as soon as the phone booths had been raided and Melody had been given her boost, she got off to a fast start, winning her first two games.

Things changed in the third round. Melody had to face Grandmaster Alex Yermolinsky. She played her poorest competitive game yet, not putting up much of a fight in a twenty move loss.

It was a long car ride back to Lantana that night. Melody swore she would play better.

All three days, Grace and Melody left Key Biscayne by sometime between 7 and 8 pm. Melody tired easily, and usually fell asleep on the car ride home.

After a day off on the 4th, play continued on the 5th. Grace and Melody spent part of the 4th of July watching fireworks at Bicentennial Park in Lantana. They could walk there from their apartment.

Over the next nine rounds, Melody played solid chess against strong opponents. She lost another three games, but two were to GM Boris Gulko and GM Nick DeFirman. While losing both games, she impressed her opponents with her play. Neither could be called a poor game by Melody. She was just outplayed by stronger players.

During the whole time, many top players followed Melody's play. They were amazed that a girl who had only just turned eight years of age play this strong. How could it be?

Grace was often asked that question. All she said was she had taught Melody how to play, and provided her daughter with some chess books and some computer chess programs against which Melody liked to play.

Some players began referring to Melody as the Chinese Terror, after a Chinese girl with similar chess abilities in the book "The Joy Luck Club". Also for the mesmerizing stare that Melody would sometimes give when deep in concentration. Opponents soon learned not to meet her eyes when she appeared like this.

In the later rounds, Melody really distinguished herself with two victories. A fine attacking game against Master Greg Small, and a strategic gem versus International Master Bill Remlinger.

During the Remlinger game in Round Nine, Grace was approached by a man. "Hello, Miss Chen," Randy Woodhouse said. "You may recall, I introduced myself as Jonathan Woodhouse's father at the Scholastics two months back." Randy found Miss Chen a tantalizingly beautiful women. It's a shame, he thought, that she cut that beautiful hair of hers.

Randy was not at the US Open in an official capacity. The Palm Beach Post did not send a reporter to cover the tournament. Instead, they relied on the pool reporting mostly done by the Miami Herald. However, Randy was still interested in doing a feature on Melody. That was why he was there.

The face looked vaguely familiar, but Grace did not recall the prior meeting. She had probably shrugged the guy off, but some guys just could not take the word no. "Hello."

"I see Melody is doing incredibly well," Randy said, thinking there was something different about this woman.

"I was still hoping you would allow me to do an article on Melody for the newspaper I work for," he said, reminding Miss Chen of his job with the Post. "We can do it during the tournament or right afterwards, whichever would be easier."

Randy thought the woman's reluctance was odd. Most parents of talented children, artists, athletes and the like would bask in the glory of their child's success. Miss Chen did not.

It was odd, but not unheard of. But Randy Woodhouse thought there were many odd things about the Chens.

According to chess experts, Melody Chen was playing at least at a strength of 2300. That may even be underestimating. This was absolutely unheard of in a child below the age of ten, let alone as young as eight. Children usually were only learning the fundamentals at that age.

Why doesn't Miss Chen want her daughter's success publicized? Wouldn't it serve as an inspiration to other children?

All in all, Melody finished five wins, four losses, three draws, or a score of 6.5-5.5. She finished with the best score for any player twelve or younger. Among women players, she finished in a tie for fourth. The tournament was co-won by Judit Polgar, a Hungarian born Grandmaster. She tied with GM Yermolinsky with a score of 9-3.

To Grace, this was not a big amount for having to endure two weeks of being a woman and being very bored. After expenses which included gas, food, some chess books, getting Melody bubble gum and other expenditures, a profit of $1332 was left.

‘Heck, I might as well stick to maintenance work,’ Grace thought to herself.

Before the last day's play, GM Yasser Seirwan gave a Simultaneous Exhibition playing seventy-five scholastic challengers. Melody was among the players.

While Melody lost her game, it drew even more attention to her chess ability. Five time US Champ Seirwan was strongly impressed. "Watch out for this girl. She could be a world champ," he said to fellow GM Gulko. Gulko also held the same opinion.

While the simul was played, the best game prize was decided. Melody was announced the winner for her win versus Greg Small. She won an additional $500.

His curiosity building, Randy Woodhouse discretely followed the Chen's out the building as they left, and noted the grey Volvo and its licence plate number.

In the weeks after the US Open, the Starks pretty much went back to life as normal. Henry did most of the maintenance work, but got assistance from his brother who seemed too interested in his chess games. The next tournament for Melody Chen was not for six weeks, and would be played in Fort Lauderdale over the Labor Day weekend, the Florida State Chess Open. If Melody could play well enough, she could win $1500 or more.

Using his other identity, Pete Stark started some chess games under his Melody Chen alias. Borrowing the medallion to become Grace Chen one day, he opened a Post Office box for a Grace and Melody Chen. When Hank came home, he was very annoyed. As if the thirty-one games he was playing were not enough, he now had six more. Plus, Pete never told Hank of his plan. Hank was beginning to think the medallion was more of a headache than a help.

In the meantime, Randy Woodhouse was continuing his fruitless search for the Chens. Randy had not given up his interest in writing a story, even possibly without the permission of the Chens. He tried the phone company, auto tag offices, drivers license bureaus, the local school board, and came up with squat.

Except for one thing. The auto license plate was registered in the name of Henry Stark. Who was Henry Stark? A boyfriend of the mother?

One interesting lead came in mid-August. Randy thought that Melody Chen had to be a member of the US Chess Federation. Using his job at the Post, he got a copy of the USCF mailing list. It listed a PO Box in Lantana, Florida. While not much help, Randy began to give thought to the idea of staking out the box. The only problem with this was it was time consuming, and could be fruitless.

The day after the mailing list arrived, Randy got an even bigger break. He was with his son at a Carvel ice cream shop in West Palm Beach when a mother and daughter entered. It was the Chens. Or at least he thought so. The faces looked identical, but there was one difference. The woman's hair was much longer than the last time he had met the Chens. More like the first time. Randy knew hair just did not grow that fast.

Randy tried to say hello to Grace, but the woman swore she had never met him. After finishing their ice cream, Randy waited outside in his car. When the mother and daughter left, he followed them down to Lake Worth. There they drove into an apartment house parking lot off Ave. B.

From his car, Randy watched the mother and daughter take a few packages and head down the row of apartments. At a certain door the mother took keys from her purse and inserted them into the door, letting themselves in.

Telling Jonathan to stay in the car, Randy got out and walked to the building. At one end there was a group of mail boxes for all the tenants. The door across from the box said 2. The next door said 4 and so forth, going up by two. By Randy’s calculations, the apartment the women went into was number 14.

"K. Torrance." Well, the woman may be using a maiden name. Or be living with a boyfriend...there were lots of reasons for the difference in names. None being a crime or suspicious. Randy wanted to try finding out some more information, but who to ask? He saw two men working down at one of the other apartments. Probably maintenance men. Then he saw an even better idea.

Around the corner came an old lady, looking around eighty years old. She was pulling a small cart and attempting to lift it up the curb. Randy went to help the old lady.

"Why, thank you, young man," the woman said, after Randy helped her get the cart up the curb. "You are so kind."

"I just wanted to be of assistance," Randy said as the old lady was walking down the line of apartments.

"Oh, I am looking for an apartment for me and my son," Randy lied. "I saw there were vacancies, but the manager isn't in."

"Oh, Laura has some kind of city job," the woman said. "She gets home five-ish."

"Thank you," Randy said, putting on his act. "Are there many families here with children?"

"Oh, there are several young families," the woman went on. Randy was leading the woman on. Old people like to talk when they can, and this one had the looks of one who kept up on all her neighbors. "See, there are the Emersons in 23, the Rawleys in 18, then there are the Torrances in 14."

"Kim and Stacey. Yes, Chinese, I think. Poor woman; she lost her husband two years ago. He was a policeman." The woman rambled on. "But they will be moving at the end of the month. Back to California, I think. She has family out west somewhere."

That instantly rang a bell for Randy. Michael Torrance was a Manalapan policeman killed in the line of duty almost two years earlier.

Continuing his act, he asked about the maintenance and conditions of the building.

"Oh, those two young men outside. Henry and Peter Stark do the work. They are very good," the woman said, pointing out both men, the one with the mustache being Henry. "Just slow sometimes coming to fix things," the old lady said, as she arrived at her apartment, number 26.

Randy bid the woman a good day, and walked back to his car thinking. So things were beginning to become complicated and weird. He found a connection from The Chens to Henry Stark. But was this Torrance woman the same woman? So, why use a false name? No, something still bugged him about this story. He really sensed that woman had never seen him before. His sixth sense was rarely wrong. A good reporter had to have one. But the resemblance was too remarkable between the women. No, they had to be the same.

Then again, there was the difference in the woman's hair. This case was starting to make Randy Woodhouse question his own sanity. It was that weird.

Climbing into his car, Randy drove back to Dixie Highway on the way to his home in West Palm. This whole story was weird. He wanted to get to the bottom of it.

It was the Thursday before Labor Day, and Randy Woodhouse was staking out the Lantana Post Office. Since getting the Chen's address from the United States Chess Federation, he was curious who owned the box.

Only that morning he had double checked the Ave. B apartment house. The Torrances had moved out the day before. All mail was being forwarded to an address in California.

So it did not appear the Torrances and the Chens were the same women. Despite the uncanny resemblance. Not uncanny, more like identical twins, Randy thought.

Shortly after 10 am, a man walked into the post office and turned right then left, going to the row of boxes. He went straight to box 5280; after dialing the combo, the man opened the box removing the two postcards that were inside.

Randy Woodhouse was at a nearby table, pretending to fill out an Express Mail form. He was wearing sunglasses in order not to be recognized.

The man he saw open the box was someone Randy had seen before, but did not recognize. It was Peter Stark.

Then a light bulb flashed. ‘Peter Stark, the apartment maintenance man?’ Randy thought to himself. It didn't really surprise him. What could possibly be his connection to the Chens? Coincidence after coincidence was beginning to pile up. He watched as Peter went to another PO Box, and emptied it also.

‘A boyfriend of Grace?’ Grace Chen hardly seemed the type for someone like Pete, or even Henry Stark. Grace Chen was beautiful and had a certain aristocratic air about her. Or at least Randy thought so.

Why would any woman like that be interested in lowlifes like the Stark brothers? Well, some women did not have good taste in men, but Randy thought Miss Chen was different.

Randy thought this through as he followed Peter Stark out of the building. He was keeping his distance. He walked toward his car parked across from the Post Office, while Pete turned right.

As he got to his car, Randy saw Peter make a turn. Pete Stark must live somewhere nearby, he thought.

Randy drove off in his car and caught up with Pete. He was just in time to see Peter Stark open the door to his apartment and go in. Randy just drove off. Before getting far, Randy was passed in the opposite direction by a Grey Volvo. He watched as the Volvo driven by Henry Stark went by. Following it in his rearview mirror, Randy saw it pull into the apartment building parking lot.

‘That damn grey Volvo again,’ Randy thought. He had first seen Grace Chen use it three months earlier.

"This story is really getting weird," he said to the empty car. "What is the connection?"

The Florida State Chess Open was that weekend. He was sure the Chens would be there. Randy planned on asking more questions, and dig deeper into these mystery women.

Grace and Melody left their apartment at 7:30 am for the forty-five minute drive to the Ft. Lauderdale convention center, the site of the Florida Chess Open. In order to save money, the brothers would make the daily commute between Ft. Lauderdale and Lantana.

Once there, Grace immediately registered Melody to play, paying the $75 entry fee. Play was scheduled to begin at 9:30 am.

Two players standing by the registration desk saw the Chens register. "So, the Chinese Terror is back," Steve Andrews said to his friend, Robert or Bob Whatley. "I've got to wonder if the US Open was some kind of fluke."

"Arnold Denker, Yasser Seirwan and Nick DeFirman think she is no fluke," Bob replied. "So why do you think she is?"

"I didn't say she was a fluke. It's just incredible a girl or boy her age can play like this," Steve said, wondering if he would get a chance to play Melody Chen.

Melody's first round opponent was one Art Haenicke. Art was in his forties, and suffered from Cerebral Palsy.

Play began again at 3:30 for the second round. With the white pieces, Melody played Joel Blackwood.

By shortly after 6 pm, Joel resigned on move thirty-four. The first day of play was finished. Melody Chen stood at the score of 2-0. Shortly afterwards, Grace and Melody Chen left to make the forty-five minute drive back to Lantana.

Randy Woodhouse was at the tournament, covering it for the Palm Beach Post. The Miami Herald, Sun-Sentinel and a half dozen other Florida newspapers had reporters present. They were there to cover the tournament, but most of all to cover Melody Chen, the Chinese Terror.

The discoveries Randy had made during the last few days still puzzled him. Who was this girl, and what was the connection to Henry and Pete Stark?

The competition and strength of players would increase as the rounds progressed. Randy knew Melody faced a real challenge the next two days.

The next player was Melody's toughest challenge yet. Joshua Stein was rated 2184, and was known for his fierce attacking style of play. Melody would have to play Joshua with the Black pieces.

On move nine of a Caro-Kann, Josh Stein sacrificed his knight for two pawns, and what looked like a strong attack. Melody, however, defended precisely, and on move thirty-six, Josh was forced to resign. After congratulating her, he walked away muttering to himself. "This girl is absolutely unreal!"

Again, Grace and Melody had lunch together between rounds. This time it was pizza. Melody was in for her biggest challenge in the next round.

Seven time Florida Champ, one time US Champ and International Grandmaster Arnold Denker took the chair across from Melody for the fourth round of play. Even at the age of eighty-two, GM Denker was a formidable opponent.

"It's an honor to play you, Melody. Let's have a good game," the GM said, absolutely meaning it. He was amazed by this girl's chess strength.

In contrast to the Stein game, this was a strategic battle. Despite having the white pieces, Melody was slowly outplayed by GM Denker, using the King's Indian Defense.

"Melody, you played one wonderful game," Arnold said to the little girl, seeing she was disappointed at losing. They then left the playing room.

Just around the corner was Grace, who was patiently waiting. "How did you do?" she asked.

"Ms. Chen?" Arnold Denker said, speaking up. "Your daughter played a fine game. I never have seen a child her age with this much talent for the game. She is truly a remarkable child."

"I would like to invite both you women to dinner," the GM went on to say. "I'd like to study the game more with Melody, if you would allow me. There is a very fine restaurant ten minutes from here."

Grace was unsure. But Denker was an eighty-year-old man. He had to be harmless. A free dinner was also a nice offer.

"What do you think, Melody?" She nodded. "We accept." Grace, Melody and Arnold then headed toward the exits and the parking lot.

Melody and Grace spent a pleasant evening chatting with the GM. Melody had Arnold very impressed, even in awe of her knowledge and aptitude for the game. Arnold and Melody spent over an hour studying the game they had just played.

On the way back to Fort Lauderdale the next morning, Grace and Melody talked. While the loss to Denker was a setback, Melody was still leading the junior and women players. If she could just sustain her play one more day, she could make $1500.

Melody's next opponent was not much easier. Senior Master William Kane. Again playing the black side of the Caro Kann, Melody was on the defensive. As much as Kane tried, the position stayed level for around thirty-five moves. Then he tried to push an attack that was not sound. Soon Melody was a pawn up. It took a great deal of work, but after seventy-three moves and over five hours, SM Kane resigned. Melody stood now 4-1.

With games starting in only twenty minutes, Melody had only enough time for a hot dog with Grace. After eating, she went into the room to play her next opponent, Steve Andrews. Grace and Melody knew that first Junior prize was guaranteed, or at least a tie. The same went for the best female prize. If Melody could win or draw, she would get the prizes outright, and therefore get the full $1500.

Waiting around for Melody could be quite tedious for Grace. First, she had to do it as a woman, and a very attractive one that seemed to draw guys like honey drew bees. Second, there was next to nothing to do but wait. Grace was glad this would be the last tournament for at least several months.

"Hello, Miss Chen," said Randy Woodhouse, as he walked up the hallway toward Grace. "I hope you remember me, I write for the Palm Beach Post."

"Congratulations on another fine performance by your daughter," Randy said, as Grace said thank you. "She is truly a gifted child."

"You know, both of you fascinate me," Randy went on to say. "I've been wanting to write a piece on your daughter, but you don't want it. My question or problem is, why?"

"Since you and Melody don't wish to talk, I have investigated on my own. Do you know what I have found out?" Woodhouse asked, and was again met with silence. "Absolutely nothing, like the two of you don't exist."

"Privacy is one thing," Woodhouse continued, to circle the woman. "But no trace, no records. That seems to be a bit more than staying private."

Again Grace remained silent. This was too much for her. Not knowing anywhere else to go, she started down the hallway to the nearest ladies room. The reporter was following her.

"Who are Peter and Henry Stark?" Woodhouse asked, and saw a flicker of reaction from Ms. Chen. "Or Kim and Stacey Torrance?"

Miss Chen stepped into the ladies room. Randy stopped at the door. He knew he could go no further.

"You can run, but you can't hide, or at least, not indefinitely." So Randy Woodhouse said outside the ladies room door in frustration. He began to feel a little guilty. Was he being too harsh on the woman? He decided to take a walk while he cleared his head.

Inside the playing room, Melody was facing her toughest game of the tournament. Playing white in a Classical Nimzo-Indian, Melody was finding herself slowly outmatched by Steve Andrews. After thirty-three moves, he had reached a bishop endgame, two pawns up.

The problem was, the bishops were of opposite color. And despite the material advantage, such endgames can be drawn by the weaker side. Just in a recent correspondence game, Melody, or really Pete Stark had been unable to win one such endgame.

The win for Steve would be difficult. There was also a way for Melody to set up a book drawn endgame. She bided her time while waiting for him to make the effort.

Her patience paid off on move fifty-four. Steve made the move that forced an exchange of pawns. With such, Melody had the book drawn endgame. The $1500 would be hers.

By this time, Melody and Steve were one of only two games left. About ten to fifteen players were gathered around the table. Most were in awe of the little girl who played like adults three times her age.

After taking back the pawn, Melody spoke up. "I offer a draw." Then she pressed the button on the chess clock.

Steve Andrews looked long and hard at the position. He wanted to win the game to get the tie for second, but the more he looked the more he knew it was a draw. He stared at the position for ten minutes, then he looked up at his friend, Bob Whatley. "The girl is right," Bob said, breaking a chess protocol of not talking.

It didn't matter. Steve extended his hand to Melody. They shook hands. The draw was official. At 4.5-1.5, Melody Chen finished in a three-way tie for fifth. More importantly, she clearly won the junior and women's prizes. All in all, she won $1750.

Melody signed and picked up her scoresheet. Then she ran from the room to find Grace.

"Ha...Mommy, I drew the game. I won the prize," Melody said in excitement, admittedly acting more like her age than a grownup in a little girl's body. Melody even gave Grace a hug like a real mother and daughter. Grace could barely stop herself from flinching.

Sometimes Grace wondered if the medallion had made his brother act like a little girl, too.

A half hour later, the prizes were awarded. The tournament organizers gave Melody Chen a check for $1750 and a trophy for having the best record for any player seventeen or younger.

"Isn't she amazing?" said the Miami Herald photographer standing next to Randy Woodhouse. All he got in reply was a thin smile.

"I think we may have seen a future World Champ," said Steve Andrews to the remaining chess players. A heated discussion followed.

Randy Woodhouse watched the Chens leave the convention center. Heading to the same old grey Volvo, he noticed. A grey Volvo registered in the name of Henry Stark.

He had made an effort to talk to the Chens before they left, but was ignored. He didn't blame the mother, he was too harsh earlier.

What harm had they done? He was just too suspicious at times. Still, the thoughts remained.

What was the connection between Grace and Melody Chen and Henry and Pete Stark? Whatever it was, it was still a mystery.

And where did the Chen's come from? He had yet to prove they existed. Yet, exist they did.

It was unreal. Like the Chens and Starks were the same people. But how could that be possible?

Time to stop speculating, Randy told himself. He had a story to finish writing, and a deadline to meet. He planned to check on the Chens and Starks again soon.

Grace and Melody climbed into the Volvo and began the forty-five minute ride back to Lantana. During the car ride back, Melody talked about the tournament. To be honest, Grace was sick of the chess after the last few weeks. Maybe because she did not have Melody's passion for the game.

"That Woodhouse guy was bothering me again," Grace said while driving. "He knows too much about us, the Torrances, everything. Just not the medallion."

"Yes, but I think we should quit this while we are ahead," Grace concluded. "It might start getting dangerous."

Melody was a little disappointed at Melody Chen, Chess Prodigy, ending. She actually enjoyed it, all the attention, etc. She wondered if as Pete he had studied harder at chess when he was young how strong he could have been. Too bad he wouldn't get such a second chance.

"Yes, you are right. I will be glad to be back to my old self," Melody said. "I am so sick of this girl shit."

"You've got it made, little brother. I've got to keep a bunch of guys' paws off of me." Both women shared a laugh. They were both looking forward to being men again.

"Fuck, what is going on?" Grace yelled, at no one in particular. Traffic was not moving. And this was supposed to be an interstate.

Traffic continued to crawl and frequently stopped. They were approaching the Atlantic Avenue exit.

"Well, I'm going to get off here and head to Congress Avenue." Grace put the turn blinker on and slowly got over to the right hand lane. She was tired and wanted to get back to Lantana soon, and the next exit wasn't for five miles. She did not want to spend the next hour stuck in traffic. A lot of drivers were making the same decision to get off the highway. It took them nearly fifteen minutes to make it to Congress from the interstate, and it was maybe a two mile drive. Once on Congress, the traffic moved faster.

In another ten minutes the car was nearly to Lantana Road. Once at Lantana Road, they would go east and their apartment would be another five to ten minutes.

"No shit, Sherlock." Grace was looking for somewhere to stop the car. She made a right at the next traffic light. It was leading to a residential area. On the right was a small clearing. She drove the car into the small clearing and stopped it. Both she and Melody got out of the car.

"I'm going to have to put the spare on," Grace said, thinking how difficult it would be now. Normally, as Hank, he would have no problem, but now she was a woman, it was going to be back breaking work. The only good news was it was a full moon that night, it would be easy to see. Grace opened up the trunk and started taking the gear she needed out. While Grace was doing that, Melody was walking around the clearing. It was apparent some people used it as a dumping ground. Litter was everywhere.

Grace had started to put the jack in position when she heard another car pull up. A man in his late twenties climbed out of a Ford mini-van. The guy was tall, and good looking. "Can I be of help?" he asked.

"Well, let me see what you've done so far," the man said, looking at the tire and the jack and assorted equipment. Melody had wandered a way off, but had seen the guy arrive.

"What do you mean?" Grace was looking carefully at the man. She was not getting a good feeling.

The guy grabbed Grace and started to kiss her. She pulled herself free and slapped the guy on the face. Then she turned to run, but the guy grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back. Grace immediately began to scream.

Immediately the man punched Grace in the jaw. The pain she felt was intense. She could also taste blood in her mouth, and then she was struck again. The pain intensified, and she crumbled to the ground.

"Somebody help me!" Grace tried to yell, but it came out barely above a moan. She continued trying to yell, but the guy was now on top of her, and she was getting pummeled all the more.

Melody turned upon hearing her brother scream. She immediately saw the man punch Grace hard in the face, knocking her to the ground. Then the man climbed on top of her and continued to pummel Grace until she stopped screaming.

Melody's first reaction was to run to her brother's aide. But she was eight years old. What could she do against a grown man? She looked at the clearing. She couldn't leave the way she came, so she ran the fastest she could away from the car and go for help. She didn't think the man had ever seen her.

'I've got to get help! I only wish I was big. I only wish I was big. Why did this happen to us?' Melody thought, and continued to think as she ran as fast as her small feet took her.

The man had Grace pinned down to the ground with him on top of her. She continued to try to yell, but could barely make a sound as she tried to fight back her attacker with her hands and legs. By this time the punching she was taking made even the lifting of her arms or even breathing nearly impossible and very difficult to do. Grace was in tremendous pain from head to toe.

Then she started to feel something. The man was starting to remove the slacks she was wearing. She tried to struggle, but it was futile. The guy was removing her panties at the same time, also. She knew instantly what was going to happen to her.

"Oh God, he's going to rape me. I'm a man! I'm a man. I'm not a woman!" Grace tried to yell through the pain while fighting her attacker, but she was unable to do so. She was beginning to cry, also. The man by this time was beginning to remove his own pants.

'I only wish I was big. I only wish I was big! What have I done? I've got to get help for Hank!'

"Oh God!" There was a nine foot high fence in front of her. There was no way she could climb it. The fence also appeared to go all the way around the clearing. She was trapped.

Melody turned around in the direction she had come. The sight she saw terrified her like nothing she had ever experienced in life. Almost uncontrollably, the girl began to shake and tremble and she even urinated on herself.

The man had beaten Grace to a pulp, and was now removing her clothing besides lowering his own pants. The man was going to rape her brother!

'There's nowhere to go! I'm trapped,' Melody thought. Not knowing what to do, she ran toward some nearby shrubs and hid herself.

'What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? If I had only been big,' Melody thought while she trembled.

Grace tried her best to resist her attacker. She kept trying to force her legs shut and push the guy off her, but it wasn't working. Soon the guy finally forced her thighs apart, and Grace could feel herself being penetrated. The man was thrusting and thrusting.

"I'm a man! I'm a man! I'm a man! I'm not a woman! This can't be happening to me!" Grace yelled, but it only came through her lips as a whisper. The attacker continued to thrust and thrust inside her. "Why did this happen to me? Why is this happening to me?"

No matter what Grace did to resist, she couldn't get loose. The thrusting continued and continued, and Grace had no idea how long it had been. Finally she gathered enough strength to raise her right hand and scratch the man's face. It was barely a prick, but it only managed to enrage her attacker.

The man stopped thrusting, and instead put his large hands around Grace's neck and began to squeeze it.

Grace could barely breathe now; she felt the air being squeezed out of her. Then she thought, 'I hope Pete got away.' Finally, Grace couldn't breathe any longer, and all went black.

Mike Riddick was on the final leg of his thrice weekly two mile jog the next morning. The time was just past 5:30. It was only a quarter mile to his home in the nearby Lantana Pines subdivision. He turned the last corner, and saw a small child standing by the clearing.

"Help me. My brother," the little girl kept repeating. The girl was pointing to the clearing. Mike walked up to look closer, and saw a car and some objects next to it. He immediately recognized one of those objects, and ran into the clearing leaving the child by the road. He saw it was a woman. He felt for a pulse. Then he ran out of the clearing, grabbing the little girl by picking her up in his arms, and started running as fast as possible to his home.

"What animal could have done this?" Detective Bob Hughes said, thinking out loud. The County Coroner's office was preparing to take the still unidentified woman's body away.

Bob Hughes had been a detective for eleven years, six in homicide. He had seen many murder scenes in his work, but this was the worst. He took one last look at the woman's face before a sheet was pulled over it. The woman had to have been beautiful. Now her face was covered with blood.

"The woman died of asphyxiation, consistent with being strangled. The bruises around the neck are consistent with it," said Marshall. "There are also signs of bruising in the lower extremities, and signs of seminal fluid present."

So the woman had been raped then strangled, Bob thought to himself. But first you break the woman's jaw in two places, her nose, one rib in such a way she stops screaming. Only animals did this kind of crime.

"You will get the full report later," Marshall said, as he watched the body loaded into the coroner's car. Bob thanked Marshall, then watched the van with Marshall inside drive away.

Bob was watching the Crime Scene unit as it carefully went over the area where the body was found. So far, no ID Had been found for either the woman or the little girl. The little girl had been taken to nearby JFK Hospital. Not much had been learned from the girl. Just that her name was Melody.

"We found something!" yelled one of the crime scene workers, about twenty-five to thirty feet away. Bob walked over.

"We found this." The technician showed Bob a check made to Grace and Melody Chen. It was for $1750. The check was from the Florida Chess Association, and it was dated the day before.

"Bag it. I think we have our victim IDed now," Bob said, trying not to think of the terrible end that Grace Chen had met. It didn't do him good to think such things over. But it did make him determined to catch the bastard responsible.

Bob Hughes was trying to piece the crime together. The Chens must have gotten a flat tire and pulled the car into the clearing; while there, the killer came, pretending to help. The killer assaulted and killed Mrs. Chen, but left the child. Why? The girl may know, but was deeply traumatized and would probably be of little help.

There were a couple of possibilities; the girl hid, or something caused the killer to hurry off. Those were plausible explanations. Bob thanked God for whatever reason it was. There'd probably be a dead little girl now, also.

So the killer left Mrs. Chen for dead, and took her purse. The purse had been found and was empty. The weird thing was, it was too empty. An empty wallet was found with only change, but no credit cards or ID. Did the victim take the ID and the cards also? An oddity was there was no sign of the clutter usually found in a woman's purse. No pens, combs, lipstick, makeup etc. Odd, but not helpful. No man would take it.

So the killer empties the wallet and purse, throws it away and heads back to his car, probably. Fuck. There were too many tire tracks in the clearing, Bob thought. That was unlikely to be a helpful angle. But the killer may have left his car by the road, leaving no tire tracks.

Bob had detectives out in the area, hoping to find a nearby resident who might have seen something.

A check of motor vehicle records told him the car belonged to a Henry Stark, living in Lantana. There was a lead, but it was probably just the woman's boyfriend.

The MO of the crime strongly resembled the work of a serial rapist wanted in South Florida. Over the last six months, eleven women had been assaulted. One was killed in nearby Indian River County. There was also an unsolved rape/murder in Central Florida near Sebring suspected of being the same person.

So Robert Hughes had a dead woman, a frightened child, lots of questions and little clues. This case was not going to be easy, but Det. Hughes was determined to find the killer.

Unknown to the detective or any of the crime technicians, a necklace with a strange medallion was laying just twenty feet away.

Like all Tuesday afternoons, Randy Woodhouse was busy at his desk at the Palm Beach Post. His work included much more than following Melody Chen, chess prodigy. He had other stories to write.

It was 1:21 in the afternoon when Randy's phone rang. He immediately picked it up.

"Woodhouse," Randy said to the caller. He then listened to the person on the other end of the line for nearly two minutes, occasionally asking a question.

"I'll be right there," Randy said, hanging up the phone and then running out of the press room heading for his car.

Manuela Gomez was busy reading a magazine. Around 11 am she had been called at home by her nursing supervisor and asked to come to work. Since it would be overtime pay and Manuela had nothing planned for the day, she immediately accepted.

When Manuela arrived at the hospital, she was surprised to find out she would only have one patient for the day. Normally she took care of four to six. But Manuela's patient was no ordinary child.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God," were the first words Manuela said, after hearing the story of Melody Chen.

There wasn't much to do for Melody now. She was being kept sedated. While physically unharmed, the girl had been in a state of shock when brought to the hospital that morning.

Every ten minutes or so, Manuela would get up and check her patient, then return to the nearby chair. She had said some prayers for the poor girl and her mother earlier in the day.

Actually, Melody was not waking up. She was violently moving in her bed. Like she was having a nightmare.

"Linda," Manuela said, hearing the voice of the floor nursing supervisor. "318 is waking up."

Melody woke up from the nightmare she was having. The first thing she saw was some Hispanic woman looking at her.

"Don't worry, Melody, you are safe," Manuela told the little girl as she stroked her forehead.

Then Melody remembered the nightmare she had. Watching her brother get raped by that man. The man then started chasing after her. But she was not fast enough, and the man had caught her. The man was beating her when she woke up.

Melody looked around the room; nothing looked familiar. Where was she? How did she get here?

Then Melody remembered the terrifying events of the night before. What happened to her brother? Where was Hank now?

"Where is my-" Melody was going to ask brother, but she remembered that Hank was Grace at the time of the attack. "-Mommy?"

Manuela could not tell the young girl the truth. That would have to be done by others. That was the normal practice. She felt very sad for this girl.

"Hello, Melody, my name is Dr. Ackerman. How are you doing?" the Doctor asked Melody, as he began to examine her.

"My name is not Melody. It's Pete Stark. I need to find that necklace," Melody said, as the doctor shined a light in her eyes.

Both Dr. Ackerman and Manuela were thinking the same thing. The girl was suffering from PTSD. It had to be expected from the girl, considering what she witnessed.

"Well, when you are better we can see if we can get you a new necklace," Manuela said to the little girl.

They weren't believing her. Melody began to cry. "I need that necklace. My mommy needs it, too. Can't you believe me?" she said while crying.

The doctor finished the examination. "Well, Melody, we will make sure you are all well first," the doctor said, then motioned for the nurse to come with him. They stood by the room door speaking in whispers. Melody continued to cry, laying in the bed.

"She is still in shock," Dr. Ackerman said, writing notes on Melody's chart. The story about the girl being a guy was bizarre, but had to be a symptom of PTSD. "I still want her kept sedated in the meantime." Giving his last instructions, Dr. Ackerman left the room.

Manuela tried to soothe Melody for the next forty minutes, but she continued to say she was really someone named Peter Stark and needed some necklace. She also insisted that her mother was really her brother.

"Is my brother dead?" Melody asked. Another nurse had walked into the room with the sedative.

"Melody, we will talk about that after you rest more." Manuella gave the little girl a shot. Melody continued to cry for a few minutes, but eventually fell back to sleep.

Manuella went back to her chair and her magazine. Poor girl, she must really be traumatized by what she saw. Manuella would say a prayer for Melody Chen.

Twenty-five minutes after getting the phone call, Randy Woodhouse arrived at the third floor pediatric unit at JFK Hospital in Lake Worth. Fellow Post reporter Liz McEvoy was waiting for him by the nursing station. "Hi, Randy. I called you as soon as I recognized who she was." Liz McEvoy was the Post's crime reporter.

Part of Liz's job included spending time around hospital emergency rooms. She had contacts at all the hospitals in the county. This morning Liz got a phone call from her contact at JFK. About a little girl who had been brought in, and that the girl had witnessed her mother's murder.

Security was tight around the little girl, but Liz had her ways. She managed to catch a glimpse of the girl as she was being wheeled to the elevator on the way to the pediatric unit. She immediately recognized the girl as Melody Chen. Melody's photo was on the front page of today's local section of the Post because of her fifth place finish at the Florida State Open.

Liz then called her source at the Sheriff's office. The friend called back within an hour, giving Liz the details of what happened the previous night.

"Where is she?" Randy asked. Liz led him down the hallway to room 318. There was a Palm Beach County Sheriff"s deputy posted outside the room. They were not allowed to enter.

"So what happened?" Randy asked. Liz then recounted the events of the night before as told to her by the police detectives investigating the case. The entire time Randy kept muttering, "Oh, my God." He was praying for Grace Chen. "So the mother is dead?"

"Yes, she was DOA," Liz explained. "They believe she was raped and then strangled."

"Doctor, how is she?" Randy introduced himself as a reporter for the Palm Beach Post.

"Sorry, Mr. Woodhouse, I am not really supposed to say." Dr. Ackerman tried to brush off the reporters, and walked down the hallway. Randy hustled down the hallway, getting in front of the doctor.

"Doc, this is off the record. Nothing will be repeated," Randy said, trying to convince the doctor. "Please, I want to know."

The doctor looked long and hard at Randy. "Ms. Chen is unharmed physically. Psychologically, we are not sure yet."

"The young girl witnessed the brutal attack and murder of her mother. At the moment, we are treating her for shock," Dr. Ackerman explained. "She also may be showing early symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. That's all I can really tell you. Now, I have patients to see. Good day."

"Thanks, doctor," Randy said to the doctor, then turned back to Liz McEvoy. "So, what else do we know?"

Liz filled Randy in on everything else she knew. "There are some funny things I heard from the cops," Liz added.

"When Melody was found this morning, she kept swearing she was some man named Peter Stark, and that the dead woman was really her brother. She also kept mentioning some necklace." Liz saw a change on Randy’s face when she mentioned the name Stark.

"The cops also say the car that Ms. Grace Chen was driving belonged to a Henry Stark." Again, Liz noted the change of expression by Randy. "Randy, do you know something I or the police should know?"

"I don't know," he replied. He would have a story to write for the next day's Post. It would not be a happy one.

That evening at 6 pm, George Laicona was settling down to dinner in his Deerfield Beach apartment. He decided to turn on the TV to watch the news.

The news anchor began to speak. "Late last night, a woman was murdered and raped in suburban Lake Worth. What made the crime even more tragic was her eight-year-old daughter witnessed what happened. We go to our field reporter, Lynn Salisbury."

The report continued on. The usual crimes, murders. Why did George even bother to turn on the news, it was so depressing? Then something the reporter said caught his attention. "The murdered woman was Grace Chen of Lantana. Her body was discovered this morning, along with her daughter Melody..." The reporter went on to tell that while the daughter witnessed the crime, she was unhurt.

George Laicona was a CPA by trade, but he was a chess tournament organizer on a part-time basis. He immediately recognized the victim and her daughter. The daughter was the girl they called the Chinese Terror at the Florida State Open.

George turned off the television and stopped eating. He went to where his address book was. After looking up a name, he dialed the number.

"Arnold?" George said into the phone. "It's George Laicona. I just saw a story on television you ought to know about..."

The police didn't have much either by nightfall. Various officers had interviewed people in the area near the clearing, but none saw anything unusual that night. Some said they had seen cars and trucks go so often from that clearing that they stopped paying attention.

So Det. Bob Hughes had to find the Chens' family or where they lived. Without ID to go with, Bob contacted the FL Chess Association. No one answered, but Bob had another idea. The United States Chess Federation. Telling the Media Director the problem, Bob got the Chens' address. It was a PO box in Lantana. Well, it was a lead. Since the Post Office was already closed, Bob left the next step to the following morning.

Melody Chen did not feel much like eating, but her nurse Iris was insisting. So Melody ate about half of the dinner that had been ordered for her.

'Nobody will listen to me,' Melody thought to herself. Even worse, she thought of what had happened to her brother, Hank. No one had said anything, but Melody strongly suspected Hank was dead. She started crying again.

"What have I done?" Melody blurted out while crying. Iris Patterson tried to hold the child's hand to comfort her, but it seemed to be little consolation to the hurt little girl.

Melody couldn't help but blame herself for what happened to her brother. Now she was also trapped as this little girl. Would she ever get back to normal? Even if she did, Hank would not be around.

It was all too much for Melody. Beside her in the bed was a pink teddy bear given by the hospital. She curled up into a ball, hugging the teddy bear as she wept. Almost impulsively like a child, she began to suck her thumb.

Iris Patterson watched the troubled girl cry herself to sleep. Poor thing, may God have mercy on her mother, Iris thought.

It was Wednesday morning at the Palm Beach home of Paul and Ellen Raymond. Paul was thirty-three years old, and Ellen a year less. They had been high school sweethearts and had been married for nine years.

To their friends and family, they were still the ideal couple. They loved one another very much, and were very much still like newlyweds. Yet they still were not entirely happy.

Like every weekday morning, the Raymonds rose at 6:45. While Paul readied for his day at the law office, Ellen prepared breakfast. By 7:10 they would sit down together to eat breakfast, talk and read the daily newspapers. They got the Palm Beach Post, New York Times and The Wall Street Journal.

"Fr. Pitor is coming for dinner tonight," Ellen reminded Paul. He was a priest at nearby St. Edward's Catholic Church, and their close friend.

"Anyone else coming?" Paul asked, as he read the main section of the Post. He usually started with the editorial page.

"No," Ellen replied. She had nothing in particular planned that day. Ellen was a graduate of Stetson University with a Degree in Art. She kept busy with the Raymond Foundation and some local charities. This week she had little activity planned. Maybe she would do some shopping and then meet Paul in downtown West Palm Beach for lunch.

Ellen was reading the Accent section, and had just finished it. She then picked up the Local section. A story instantly caught her attention. "Oh my!" Ellen said, making a sign of the cross. She pushed the paper across the table for Paul to read, pointing out the article.

"You don't remember her?" Ellen asked. Paul remained puzzled; the name did sound familiar, but he couldn't recall from where.

"That little girl chess champ." The Raymonds had presented Grace and Melody Chen with her prizes at the Florida Scholastics not quite four months ago. Paul instantly remembered the couple.

One of Ellen's many activities was to visit children at the hospital. She loved to bring them small gifts and bring cheer to sick boys and girls. It was one of her favorite activities. The Raymond Foundation had also made a major donation for the children's wing of JFK when it was renovated five years earlier. "I think I will go pay the girl a visit," she told Paul.

They continued to talk until Paul left for work at 7:45. Ellen returned to the master bedroom. The Raymonds owned a spacious five bedroom, four bathroom house. While preparing herself to go out, she began to make mental notes of what she wanted to do that day.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Detective Hughes told the manager of the Lantana Post Office. When a person rents a PO Box, they need to give a regular address first. The Chens had listed an apartment address that was only two blocks away from the Post Office.

After making the short drive to the apartment house, Bob went to apartment 6, the one listed for the Chens. He knocked on the door a few times, but got no answer. He was not expecting an answer.

That same morning he had gotten the address for the owner of the Volvo left at the crime scene. Henry Stark was listed as living in apartment number one. So maybe the theory of Grace Chen being the girlfriend of Henry Stark was correct.

A middle aged woman was just arriving in the parking lot. She got out of the car and walked around to the other side. She was helping her elderly mother out of the front passenger seat. The woman helped what appeared to be her mother and slowly led her to the door. Bob Hughes approached them.

"Hello, Ma'am, my name is Robert Hughes and I am a detective from the Palm Beach County Sheriff's Office." Bob noted the women looked warily at him as he showed them his ID. Most people, the honest and dishonest, tended to get nervous when approached by a policeman.

"I need to ask you a few questions about one of your neighbors." The younger of the two women introduced herself as Mary Thomas, and the older woman as Margaret Thomas. They invited the police officer into their apartment.

Once inside, Mary asked the detective if he wanted any tea or coffee while she got her mother settled in. Bob declined and began to ask some questions. "I'd like to ask some questions about the people in apartment 6, the Chens," Detective Hughes said.

"Chens?" Mary replied, looking puzzled. "No one by that name lives here. It's been some time since anyone lived in apartment 6."

"Yes, I remember, the Ramseys. They moved out right after I got home from having pneumonia," said Margaret Thomas.

Detective Hughes mentioned the names Grace and Melody. Neither woman swore knowing two women by those names living in the apartment. Nor did they recall seeing anyone of Chinese or Asian descent living in the apartments in the six years they had been living there.

Bob Hughes thanked the women and left the apartment. This case was beginning to get odd, and was going to be even more work. First he would have some detectives come to interview all the residents. Since most of the residents worked during the day, the interviews would have to be done at night.

The next step for Det. Hughes would be to get a search warrant for apartment 6. Bob climbed into his car and drove off.

Melody Chen had a rather restless night. She was having the continual nightmare of seeing her brother killed. It just wouldn't stop.

Breakfast had come around 7 am. Only through the pleadings of her nurse did Melody eat. She had very little appetite.

Mostly Melody lay in her bed weeping. Telling the nurse she was really a man was not working. So Melody stayed silent, weeping and hugging the teddy bear.

The nurse tried to get Melody to watch some television, by setting the channel to PBS. First Barney and Friends and then Sesame Street was on. Melody was not interested.

While this was going on, the room was beginning to fill up. Flowers, toys, dolls, stuffed animals of many different sizes. Plus balloons. There were also cards wishing the little girl well.

Melody crawled up in a ball, hugging the pink teddy bear, and cried herself to sleep.

Chris Goldthorpe, in addition to being a chess player, was an Internet addict. That morning he saw the article in the Fort Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel about the Chens. Chris was not normally an emotional person, but he had tears in his eyes as he read the story.

While not having met or played Melody Chen, Chris recalled her vividly at the Florida State Chess Open. The little girl was supposed to be an amazing new chess talent. Some of his friends like Steve Andrews had been visibly impressed. If Steve Andrews thought she was good, Chris had to agree.

One of Chris' hobbies involved reading and often posting to Internet message boards. His favorite had chess as a topic. Whether over the board or correspondence, Chris liked to read the messages and often join in the discussions.

While reading the newspaper, Chris thought some of his Internet friends may be interested in knowing the sad tale. He began to post the story to a half a dozen bulletin boards while giving the URL link to the Sun-Sentinel story.

These bulletin boards were read by thousands of chess players world wide. Most were shocked to read of what happened to the little girl. They posted to other message boards, and began to talk to their friends about this talented little girl and the terrible tragedy that had befallen her.

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� 2002 by Danielle J. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.