Tandem the Careful

Tandem had not always been careful.

When she was small, she moved wherever looked exciting, never thinking about which pieces she left behind — and she left them everywhere, lonely little blots all over the board. And again and again the other player bumped them, one after another, sending Tandem's pieces all the way home to start over, until she never got anywhere at all. She'd curl her ears down, sure she just had terrible luck, that the dice hated her.

An old rabbit, calm and watchful, hopped up beside her one evening. "It isn't bad luck," she said. "You leave your pieces all alone, scattered out in the open — and a lonely piece is a piece waiting to be bumped." She nudged two of Tandem's pieces gently together. "See how safe they are, side by side? No one can touch them now. But out there, alone—" she pointed at a solitary blot "—that one's just hoping the dice miss it. Don't leave your pieces hoping. Keep them together. A buddy makes a piece safe. Before every move, look: am I leaving anyone alone out there?"

Tandem learned to pair her pieces — to keep them two by two, safe, and to notice before she moved whether she was leaving anyone exposed — and the endless bumping stopped. The unlucky, always-sent-home feeling settled into a safe, watchful calm. She'd never had bad luck. She'd only been leaving her pieces alone, when she could have kept them together.

She walked to PipQuest when she was old enough, because it was a place for voyagers who looked after their whole fleet.

Peg, the mentor, met her at the dock and asked her to show what she knew.

Tandem didn't say clever things. She moved her pieces across the board two by two, and each time she finished a move, she looked it over to make sure she hadn't left anyone alone. When one piece had to travel by itself for a turn, she hurried it to a buddy the very next roll.

"You keep them together," Peg said.

"A lonely piece can be sent all the way home," Tandem said. "So I never leave one out on its own longer than I must. I count my fleet, and I keep them paired."

Peg smiled. "You belong here."

A young mouse came to Tandem one afternoon, near tears.

"My pieces keep getting BUMPED!" she said. "Every time I get one somewhere good, it gets sent all the way back to the start! I've started over a hundred times! It's hopeless!"

Tandem knew that heartbroken feeling all the way down. She'd been bumped home a hundred times, too.

"Show me your board," she said. The mouse's pieces sat all alone, one here, one there — lonely blots everywhere. "There's the trouble. Every one of your pieces is out on its own, with no buddy. See this lonely one? One right roll from her, and it's gone." Tandem nudged two of the mouse's pieces together. "But these two — she can't touch them. Try keeping them paired." The mouse moved carefully, two by two, and this time, when the other player rolled, there was nothing safe to bump. Her pieces sailed on, unbumped.

"They didn't get sent home!" the mouse breathed. "Because they had buddies!"

"That's it exactly," Tandem said warmly. "It was never bad luck. Your pieces were just alone, out in the open. Keep them paired, look before you move, and they'll be safe. One is a blot. Two is a fortress."

The mouse moved her fleet two by two, safe and whole, and her heartbroken feeling turned into a relieved, grateful smile.