Chapter 11 opens with the narrator reflecting on the deaths of his parents, who passed away at the relatively young age of sixty. Their deaths, he speculates, may have been caused by broken hearts, having lived through difficult years, yet they did not disinherit him. Instead, they left him an estate worth forty-eight thousand dollars in 1945, a sum that has since quadrupled in value. This inheritance provides him with an annual income of seven thousand dollars, which, in many cases, would allow for a comfortable life. However, despite this windfall, the narrator chose to live frugally in the bustling area of Greenwich Village, surviving on just about four dollars a day. He furnished his home with war surplus items, using them for everything from furniture to everyday necessities. His possessions were all remnants of the war: a narrow bed, olive-drab blankets, and even a portable phonograph. His library was mainly filled with books from soldiers’ recreational kits, reflecting his reliance on items that had once been used for distraction during the horrors of war. One of his more unusual acquisitions was morphine from a first-aid kit, which briefly tempted him, but he quickly realized he was already addicted to something far more consuming—his unrelenting love for Helga. This love, which had lingered even after her presumed death, became a form of worship for him, and he devoted much of his life to memorializing her with toasts and rituals, keeping her memory alive as he grappled with the emptiness left by her absence.

In 1958, feeling a surge of inspiration, the narrator purchased a war-surplus wood-carving set, which ignited his long-dormant creativity. With this new tool, he set to work carving a chess set from a broom handle, spending countless hours perfecting the pieces. The act of carving became an obsession, and soon after completing the set, he felt an intense desire to share his creation with someone else. He knocked on the door of his neighbor’s apartment, which led to a fateful meeting with George Kraft. Kraft was a complex figure, a man with an enigmatic past, who introduced himself as a Russian agent under the alias Colonel Iona Potapov. This revelation intrigued the narrator, adding an element of danger and mystery to their interaction. As their conversation unfolded, Kraft revealed that he had been living under multiple identities, each with its own secrets and stories. In his apartment, the walls were adorned with Kraft’s paintings, revealing a hidden passion for art that contrasted sharply with his background in espionage. Kraft had earned high acclaim for his work, a stark contrast to the shadowy world he had once inhabited. His dual existence—the artist and the spy—added a layer of complexity to the friendship that was developing between him and the narrator.

The chess set became the catalyst for a deeper connection between the narrator and Kraft. They began playing chess together regularly, and what began as a simple game quickly evolved into a profound bond between the two men. In their moments of companionship, they found solace in shared experiences, often over food and wine, the simple pleasures of life that allowed them to forget the darker aspects of their pasts. Despite Kraft’s battle with alcoholism and the weight of his espionage activities, their friendship grew stronger, each meeting serving as a small respite from the emotional burdens they carried. The connection they shared was one of camaraderie, rooted in mutual understanding of the pains each had suffered. However, despite the simplicity of their interactions, both men remained unaware of the complexities that would soon arise in their relationship. Their friendship was a temporary escape, yet beneath the surface, the shadows of their pasts, filled with deception, loss, and the pain of history, loomed large. They found comfort in one another’s company, and in that companionship, they could briefly set aside the turbulent realities of their individual lives, even as the weight of their histories began to close in on them. The chapter paints a picture of two men navigating their personal struggles in a world that has left them both scarred, yet finding fleeting moments of peace and understanding in their shared time together.