Gianci Olfrandi, the only grandson of Don Alfonso Olfrandi and the bearer of the family name, sat bored and lonely on the private beach several miles from Kevin Matwin's villa. He glowered at the rolling waves and sat further back into the shade of his huge umbrella.
No one to talk to, no one to play chess with…a thirteen-year-old boy shouldn't spend most of his life alone, he thought. He sniffled and ran his hand under his nose. Mother. Every summer since the divorce, he had to stay at the beach with his mother, Gina, at the Oleandro Rosso, the family retreat on the Italian Riviera. Most of the time, Mother was too busy to be bothered with him. He wasn't allowed to be with any of the other kids; beneath him, they were. His grandfather was too afraid of kidnapping- as if anyone could kidnap him. He was too tough!
Gianci flexed his flaccid muscles and examined his skinny upper arms. For thirteen, he looked as if he were really only nine or ten. Short for his age and painfully thin, he didn't get enough exercise to develop an appetite, or to develop his body. His thick black hair flopped into his eyes and he brushed it back with his hand.
Gianci hid from the sun and from the world, and played chess. He knew he was good, one of the best, but who else knew, and who else cared? He sniffled again and turned his portable PB Statesman computer on, determined to beat his own top time.
"Gianci," a voice said from across the sand, coming toward him. "I'll play you, if you want." Gianci looked up. Giuseppe, one of the waiters on duty at the beach, walked toward him with a wide grin. "I'm pretty good, too. I beat everybody around here most of the time."
"That's because you've never played anyone really good before, like me," Gianci said with his usual arrogance. "I'm so good I'm ready to beat Deep Blue. You wouldn't last five moves with me." Contempt dripping from his words, he turned away from the older boy. "Bring me a lemonade, and see that it's cold when I get it."
Giuseppe frowned, then left. He returned within ten minutes with the lemonade.
"All right, come and play," Gianci said. "I bet you a week's salary you can't make five moves."
"I don't bet," Giuseppe replied. "And besides, I have to work now." He turned and left.
Gianci dozed for a time, then drifted into the villa for lunch. He returned to the beach a few hours later.