His parents often said that what he lacked in body he made up for with his mind, and it was true that Theo was clever beyond his age. The chess trophies and ribbons that adorned the walls of his room were testament to this. A FIDE score of over two thousand; rare in someone his age. Unique in someone so terminal.

            It was his heart that would kill him, and it was his heart that stopped him from living. If he pushed himself too far, ran too fast, misjudged himself just once it would be over. Tragic.

            Still, he had chess. . .

            Among all the people she ‘buddied' Theo was the only one that Sara hadn't quite figured out. The other children were generally happy with whatever the charity had organised; community gardens, fairs, local museums, that sort of thing. She'd found out early on that Theo had no patience for them. Often he'd prefer just to walk, enjoy the experience of being outside - normally he didn't have much chance to get away from his house.

She liked him though, because at least he was different. He thought about things - maybe a little too much - but he was never insufferable with his intelligence. It seemed to her sometimes that the mind inside his head was too big for him to deal with it all at once so he has to look at it a little bit at a time.

That Saturday, just like the first Saturday of every month she picked him up and they wandered off towards the church. The designated activity today was a Minerals Fair, but Sara somehow doubted that such a prospect would interest Theo at all.

"So how's it going?" She asked absently. Theo wasn't much of a talker usually, but occasionally he could be persuaded to chat a little about what was going on in his life.

            "Alright." He mumbled. "Mum's got me on some more vitamin supplements. I hate them."

            "My mum used to make me take vitamins too."

            "What kinds?" He sounded interested, so Sara actually thought about it before answering.

            "I can't remember. They were orange though, and tasted like . . . sugary. Y'know?"

            Theo nodded thoughtfully.

"I have another competition coming up." He said, quickly, awkwardly.

            "Oh yeah?"

            "Quarter finals of a regional. If I win I move up a grade." He was staring at his feet, speaking fast.

            "That's great." Said Sara, though she could sense that Theo didn't think so. "Isn't it?"

            Theo looked up at her. He was frowning, inscrutable. Then his face cleared and his expression was blank again.

            "Yeah. Great." He said mildly.

            They walked on in silence to the end of the Avenue, where they stopped to let Theo rest. Even a walk could overstress him sometimes.

"So. Anywhere particular you want to go today?" She said. It was sunny but cold at the same time and Sara always thought of this kind of weather as ‘thin'. It was nice after seven weeks of thick summer heat.

            "Yeah." Said Theo definitely. "There's a new mobile phone mast at the end of Garcy Lane. I want to go and see it."

            "A mobile phone mast?"

            "Yeah."

            Sara shrugged. She was used to this kind of thing from him.

            "Ok." She said and they went.

It was maybe fifteen metres tall, built into a patch of speckly gravel next to an iron-grey electrical substation. Chain link hung with yellow pictures of a terribly unlucky stick figure man surrounded them both.

            "There you go." Said Sara. "Mobile phone mast." She tried to think of something else to say, but a telecommunications aerial only inspires so much idle chit chat.

            "It's kind of tall . . ." Said Theo. He sounded inexplicably nervous.

            Vertigo maybe, thought Sara, though it wasn't that tall.

            "We can move away if you'd like." She suggested.

            Theo took a breath, removed his glasses and slid them into his pocket. Stretched his shoulders back.

            "No." He said simply, and started to run.

Sara had never seen Theo run before - hadn't even known that he could, so it was a few seconds before she could react. Those few seconds were all he needed. In one quick and graceless movement he was up and over the fence.

            "Theo!" she yelled. "What the hell are you doing!?"

            He ignored her. The sudden exertion had cost him and he was crouching hands on knees, gasping air.

            "Get back over here! Someone'll . . ." But the rest of her sentence faded into nothing as Theo straightened up, walked to the base of the aerial. As he started to climb.

            Panic exploded inside of her. She managed the fence the second try -adrenaline fuelled - trainers rattling against metal links. But by that time Theo was out of reach, climbing fast, too fast. He would pass out and fall. He would electrocute himself. He would . . .

           A series of horrifying scenarios rushed through her head. The images visceral, jolting; Theo impaled on a metal girder, Theo lying broken in a pool of blood, Theo in prison.

His heart failing.

            "Theo . . . Please, you'll kill yourself! You can't do this!"

            He didn't even look down.

            After the initial rush he climbed awkwardly, locking his arms around the sides of the rungs before dragging his legs up one at a time. Maybe she could have caught him, but it was too late now, and if she had tried she might have made him fall. She might have fallen herself.

            Halfway up he stopped, wrapped his stunted arms around the mast and clung there. She could see him gasping air, his whole body shifting with the effort. This is it she thought, this is where he falls, this is where he dies.

            "Come back down!"

            He half - looked towards her, but stopped himself before he met her gaze. Like he didn't want to look at her. Like he couldn't.

            "I have to." He said, voice ragged. "I have to, I'm sorry."

            He climbed a few more rungs, but then had to stop to rest again. His heart, thought Sara, his heart can't take this.

            Staring up from its base the aerial was impossibly tall, the steel brackets that ran up each side looked flimsy. Couldn't possibly support her weight.

            She started after him.

            Theo seemed to find his second wind and began to climb again, faster than before. Determined, focussed. The gap between them not widening, but not shrinking either, each metal bracket carrying her another foot away from the ground. Another foot away from the gravel, the stone, gravity pulling her back to earth, malign.

            Sara glanced up and caught a brief impression of Theo's face, peering back over his shoulder. Brow furrowed, eyes blank; the same expression he wore when he played chess . . .

            Chess.

            Just then she remembered how he'd talked about his next competition less than an hour ago. He'd been playing chess for eight years, sometimes it was all he could do. And he always won, though never with any joy, with any pride. Like winning was a clinical, automatic issue now, just like the game, another part of his treatment. A service to his perfect mind.

            She had a brief, absurd mental picture. Theo in a hospital bed, hooked up to a drip, and in the bag a thousand tiny chess pieces trickled through one by one by one, counting out the seconds of his life.

            Not far off the ground she stopped.

            Abruptly, like a switch had been thrown in her, electric, she wanted nothing more than for Theo to reach the top. The feeling so strong it smothered the panic and the fear. Theo would not fall; he had never lost a game. The two facts were linked inextricably now. The awful images in her mind dissolving, replaced with Theo and his chess, Theo in the hospital and Theo here. Now. Real.

            A yellow jacketed policeman.

            "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing!?"

            Sara - not too far off the ground - jumped down, but misjudged it and stumbled when she landed. She took her time getting up, thinking desperately.

            "I . . . er . . ." Think, think, think. Nothing.

            It didn't matter though because at that moment the policeman had caught sight of Theo, still climbing slowly.

            "Jesus, what's he doing?"

            Sara couldn't think of an explanation for this one either.

            "It's alright." She said. "He won't fall." But as she said the words out loud she sensed how ridiculous they must sound. He wouldn't understand, of course he wouldn't.            

            "And you are?" He looked at her blankly through the chain link, Radio held up ready.

            "I know him, ok? I look after him. He's not going to fall. Trust me he's not going to fall. You have to let him do this. He'll come down when he's ready."

            He stared at her for a moment. He was young and looked like he'd rather be somewhere else entirely.

            "I . . . I'm calling for a fire crew."

            "He's not in danger! He's never lost a game." They didn't understand.

            "What?"

            "Chess. He plays chess!"

            "Sara . . ."

            "What's chess got to do with . . ."

            "It doesn't matter; he's not going to fall!"

            "Sara . . ."

            "Shit, I shouldn't even be listening to you. And you're trespassing as well . . ."

            "He's fine."

            "Sara!"

            She finally looked up.

            Theo had reached the top and was now sitting in the metal crook of the aerial. Grinning and waving dizzily. Then, slowly - Sara could see he was exhausted - he stood up, holding in each hand a metal tine of the transmitter, with the sunlight behind him he looked like he was floating.

They'd said just running was beyond him . . .

He surveyed the horizon - Leonardo de Caprio at the prow of a Titanic made of cloud.

            The policeman was calling for a fire engine now, but it didn't matter.

"Theo!" Yelled Sara, "Theo!"

He looked down, unfocussed for a second, suddenly realising the distance that separated him from the gravel. Then he found her face and his smile was back. She smiled too, couldn't help it. Infectious, happy, and like Theo's mind the thoughts inside her were suddenly too big to deal with all at once.

            At that moment a thin gust of wind rose in the air, so Theo's next words were whipped away, lost. But Sara could still see the laughter in his distant face. He shouted again and this time Sara just caught his words.

            "I can see my house from up here . . ."

            And he laughed happily until tears formed in his eyes and fell like tiny jewels to the street below.