Enyo has committed one of the classic blunders. She’s started a land war in Asia. At least her opponent isn’t a Sicilian, and death is not on the line.
Enyo moves to reinforce her front lines, and I gently tap her muscular, gray arm. She pauses, recognizing the signal, and reconsiders everyone’s troop positions.
The board game Risk dominates our kitchen table. Enyo plays against our friends Lou and Chantai, while I observe and back Enyo up.
Two turns ago, Enyo went all out on Lou’s Asian holdings. Not usually a winning proposition. Asia’s too hard to win and keep, even if it offers the biggest prize. But Enyo got pissed that Lou had blocked her in Africa. That’s Enyo’s homeland, and the big gal gets funny about it sometimes.
Problem is, while Enyo’s been playing Babar’s Revenge with Lou, Chantai’s spent two turns quietly moving on Europe. Chantai’s about to steal it from Enyo. I see Enyo not thinking ahead enough, so I do it for her.
Tap, tap.
Enyo pauses, gives the board a more thorough examination. Realizing the threat, she adjusts. I feel her trunk reach back and give my knee a thank you tap.
That’s me, protective wing-woman. It’s a familiar role. I’ve been keeping Enyo out of danger for years, as designated driver, cat-fishing defender, or simple Risk observer. Whenever Enyo can’t be bothered to think past her tusks, I step in. Elephants never foresee, you know?
Heck, had I been around, Enyo’s mammoth ancestors might not have fallen for the old stampede-them-off-a-cliff ploy so much!