By Doan Le

I found myself living alone after my beautiful wife left me for a half-witted poet with a silver tongue. What could I do; most women are air-heads by nature. After an extended period of debauchery to get even with her, I found myself physically and mentally exhausted. Then one fine day, an old friend notorious for leading a loose and fancy-free life, dropped by to see me. He tried to set me up with some girl but I lied to him to get out of it.

"Truth is, I’ve become impotent," I fibbed, "I picked up some of that ginseng you recommended, but it’s not working. Let’s rain-check, ok?"

I paid a visit to some friends who gambled instead. They’d been banned by their jealous wives from karaoke bars in the provincial capital, so with nowhere to hang out, they’d started gambling to kill time. The stakes were quite high, at least several hundred thousand dong hand.

"Can you take the heat?" Mien asked, "I lost about eight million dong the day before yesterday, and have only made back five million."

"You look so innocent," Tam warned, "you’ll be eaten alive if you’re not careful."

"In here you’ve got to ‘down your drink with big glasses’," Cuong said, fixing me with a cool gaze.

"I don’t care how big the glass," I retorted. He meant that if you were careless and violated the rules, you’d be fined heavily. The first day I joined them, Cuong took me to Tam’s well-guarded, high-walled house.

"There are three emergency exits in case coppers come snooping.... How much have you got on you?" he asked.

"Twenty million dong. I’ve put it aside just to see how much I’ll lose in a month."

"No, gambling’s meant to be fun. Your twenty million dong is barely a drop in the ocean. Just don’t get addicted or you’ll end up depraved and ruined!"

Cuong and I were childhood friends. We used to go and pick oysters on the beach together. When we grew up, Cuong became the owner of a construction materials company and had often passed lucrative contracts my way, so we had a good history. My friend Tam’s beautiful villa and garden was as an ideal place for gambling, and his wife was a good cook and hospitable to a fault. My first day gambling, I won over four and a half million dong. I guess it was beginner’s luck because I lost nearly eight million dong the next day. And after the first week of gambling, I only had thirteen million dong left out of my original 20 million; old Mien told me I was lucky.

It was weird, the more I played, the more I wanted to gamble. I’m a poor loser and every-time I lost, I became even more determined to win. I didn’t realise I had become a compulsive gambler. Day in and day out, I counted the hours till I could sit on the gambling mat and as far as I was concerned, all the gamblers around me were a bunch of two-faced cheaters; and on occasion I cursed them out. Cuong even yelled at me once.

"Stop it!" he hissed, his face serious, "you’ve gone too far. I never expected you to become so addicted. What’s worse, since you’ve been coming, all of them have become crazy!"

It was true that the gambling mat had become increasingly excited since my arrival.

"You’re such a playboy," Tam said, "What the f___ do you care about money? The rich don’t feel their money move through their pockets. I bet you feel money outside the gambling mat has become boring. Am I right or am I right?"

Cuong, out of pity, taught me the ropes.

"Bloody fool," he said, "when you pick up the cards, don’t focus on them; first observe your opponents to see how they arrange their cards. That way you can tell how good a hand they have. If they intentionally want to give you more chances to get cards, it means that they want to avoid you. There’s a thousand different ways to play cards, but what’s the use, you couldn’t beat a blind baby."

One day out of the blue, my friend Cuong died a miserable death. On the fateful night, he was out partying with some friends when we phoned him up and asked him back to the gambling mat. He jumped on his motor bike and sped back so as to be on time. But as he swung his bike into the curve at the foot of the Con Temple slope, he swerved to avoid a bus rushing headlong in the opposite direction and ended up smashing into the side of the mountain.

My close friend’s sudden death left me messed up for a whole week, and I questioned if life had meaning. Cuong died, leaving behind a young wife and little children, and into his shoes on the gambling mat stepped Han, the owner of the largest pawn shop in Do Son. Han was a professional gambler used to large gambling dens and casinos, the kind where expensive alcohol was given free, high-class prostitutes searched for big winners, and only US dollars were accepted. For this reason, right from the start, Han became our arch enemy. And I lost a lot of money to him.

The week before, bitter over losing a large sum of money, I’d sold my shares at the ice making factory to a cousin of mine. This gave me a lot more money to play and hopefully recoup my gambling losses. That night, we gambled till the early hours and I decided to return to my pretty house at the foot of the mountain after eating a bowl of oyster soup. In high spirits, I figured I’d won about five or six million dong though I was yet to count it. For quite a long time, I had forgotten the taste of winning big on the mat. The ghostly pale face of the pawn shop owner shimmered before my eyes and I burst out laughing, riding my motor bike leisurely along the sea-breeze swept road.

Since my wife left, I’d spent very little time at home, eating most my meals at my parents’ and gambling in my spare time. The truth was deep within my heart, blood still oozed. Each time I opened the gates and walked through our small garden, empty save for white roses, I couldn’t help but mourn all I had lost.

The young moon had just appeared behind the roof of the house, shining its faint blue light directly over the French-style house, enhancing its feel of deserted desolation, empty save for the sounds of frogs croaking beneath wet rocks. Suddenly I felt my hair stand on end. In the rustling sound of the tree leaves, I could swear I heard Cuong’s voice.

"I’ll help you win," the ghostly voice whispered, "I still bear a grudge against Han: he refused to pay me the fifteen thousand US dollars he owed me. I’ve got a score to settle with him!"

I shook my head to drive my drunkenness away. While alive, Cuong had time and again told me of Han’s failure to pay him the fifteen thousand dollars, but - and here’s the rub - there wasn’t a shred of evidence. Cuong died and that was it.

I got up early the next morning after a dream filled night, and went out to buy some fruits, incense and a chicken to take to Cuong’s house. I also gave Thanh, his wife, some money.

"Please help me to prepare a ceremony and I’ll be back in the afternoon."

"But his 100-day death anniversary is next week," Thanh said in surprise, "you’ve come on the wrong day."

"Not wrong at all. Please do it for me."

But I never made it to Cuong’s that afternoon. The gambling was so tense; and all the money flowed into the pockets of Han and old Mien. Tam even asked his wife to go to his brother’s and get 120 million dong so that he could split the sum in two, half for him and the other half for me. After that the stakes were raised even higher.

"Hopefully we’ll recoup our losses. Please, try harder!" Tam whispered to me.

"To win or lose, to live or die, it all happens quick, in the blink of an eye," I told myself. Each card in my hand seemed to burn with purpose. Before we started gambling, we agreed that none of us was allowed to leave the mat before midnight. We could only stop in between to eat sticky rice, chicken and pork sausages during the half hour break.

After eating, old Mien and Han went out to smoke in the garden while Tam whispered foul play in my ear.

"We should work hand in glove with each other to beat them! If I win a certain card and put it along the mat, it means the number three, four or five.... If I put it across the mat, it means three aces or three sixes.... One glance and you’ll know how to hand out your cards to me. But don’t put down your card first so that they cannot hand out their cards. Remember, today we are like people possessed!"

People possessed? I startled, remembering my failure to make it to Cuong’s. Thanh was probably waiting for me now and I quickly phoned her.

"Please pray to Cuong for me. My hands are a bit full right now. Please tell him that my heart is ever faithful and beg him to be my guardian angel!"

The gambling started again. Immediately I won two straight games. My happiness was indescribable. Old Mien laughed sickly.

"You’re going to make it all back so don’t be so nervous! You’re having good luck now!" he said, seemingly to encourage me.

In the third game, I was in a predicament. I had five hearts: three, four, nine, ten and the king.

"Please, it’s your turn! Do you want to get the card?" Han said to me, slapping down the queen of hearts on the mat.

I felt my hairs stand on end. I could not get it now. If I chanced it, I could lose ten million dong. It was nerve-wracking.

"Yes, I’ll take it!" I yelled.

God! I escaped being punished because I got the Jack of hearts, and could link it to the other five cards.

"Two of hearts! Do you want it?" Han challenged me to save face.

"I win!" I shouted.

Han looked thunderstruck as I arranged a beautiful line of red hearts; he forked over a bundle. Later on I won three more consecutive games and a pile of cash. Han changed places with old Mien to shake up the luck but I kept on winning. They all stared at me, dumbfounded. Half an hour later, the gambling was over, even though it was still 8 o’clock in the evening. Han not only lost all his money, but owed me seven million dong as well.

Everyone walked home in silence.

I was still stunned riding the motor bike; I went straight to a jeweller’s and changed the money into US dollars. I’d won 7,000 dollars. I had to go to Cuong’s. I wanted him to witness my victory thanks to his protection. I gave some money to his children for the coming new school year, and bought two Japanese bicycles for his two daughters and a jewel worth several million dong for Thanh.

I burnt incense and worshipped my dead friend, Thanh weeping softly behind me. Then to change the atmosphere in the house, I took the children to the living room and watched television with them. I was dead tired and felt so sleepy I ended up in dozing off. When I awoke, I wasn’t sure how long I’d slept but I had a sudden unshakeable feeling that something terrible had happened to me. I had to get up immediately!

I jumped up as if I’d received an electric shock.

"What’s the matter with you?" Thanh asked surprised.

"Oh, God! My money...."

"What money?"

I didn’t answer her. I rushed to the next room to Cuong altar. The 70 hundred dollar bills were all gone.

"What’s wrong?" Thanh asked behind me.

"The money" I gasped, "I left it here."

"Oh no! My daughter Huong probably thought it was ‘Hell’ money for the dead and burnt it"

We both rushed out of the room shouting, "Huong!"

The flames were dancing and Huong froze upon hearing us. She stood up as I raced over just in time to snatch some un-burnt money from her hand.

"Have you got some more of this money?"

"I’ve burnt it all. Your money looks so beautiful. The money mummy buys for daddy is ugly compared to yours."

I fell to the ground and clutched my head, groaning.

I don’t remember how I got home that night but from that moment forth, my gambling days were done.

Translated by Manh Chuong