This was now a tense situation for Brian. His opponentts Ace, Deb, John and Dave
stared at him. After five rounds he was totally out of the loop. He had already lost five hands in a row and was slowly running out of poker “chips.” John and Dave wouldn’t even let him keep his shoes, but then they were always ganging up on Brian in strip poker. They had their pants and shoes, but lost their shirts to Ace. Brian felt a draft and readjusted his towel around his waist.

Brian really, really hated strip poker.

Debra wasn’t looking at Brian; she was busy arranging her hand for the second time. Of course it didn’t seem odd to the others since it was her strategy. She still had her shirt and shorts on and only lost a sock. She exchanged one card from one end to another.

Ace shuffled and waited for several minutes already looking extremely bored. She was fully dressed and rather calm. The combined efforts of John and Dave couldn’t outmatch Ace into getting her T-shirt and pants from her.

Brian looked down in his hand. He had only had two 7′s, a five and two 2′s and he
didn’t want them to know that. Then he tried to arrange his cards for the seventh time and
debated which one he should put down. John tapped his fingers impatiently.

“Well,” John said. “Are you in or out?”

Brian was sweating, even in his towel. “I need… two. No wait, three. No… Two.”
Brian wished he could just stop shifting his eyes and swallowing dramatically and stop looking so guilty.

Ace passed two cards, Brian picked them up and his face crumbled with intense disappointment. “Damn!” he exclaimed out loud and he quickly silenced himself.

Ace and Dave rolled their eyes.

Deb pretended she didn’t hear Brian.

John smiled.

John decided to end the game after midnight. Unfortunately, that didn’t allow John to be generous. He gave Brian a cardboard box and a pair of shoes for the long walk
home. His house keys were scotch taped to the side of the box.

“Tough luck, Bri,” said John. He stood at the front door looking very smug. Granted he was only in his boxer shorts and socks but at least he was better off that Brian.

“You could have at least lend me a jacket.”

“And prolong the lesson? I’m doing you a favour.”

“How?”

“Well, after this you’re not going to play poker ever again. I saved you from heartbreak and misery. See ya.” John slammed the door and locked it. Brian stood at John’s porch for several minutes, mouth open and shivering. “Oh yeah? Well. So. Son of a bitch!” he screamed at the door then he turned and walked home.

He walked along the street careful not to let anyone notice him and call a cop.
Twice he ducked behind a tree just as a car drove by. He was cold, humiliated and angry but what was he suppose to do?

From far away or around the corner he heard a car engine accelerating. A cherry red Volkswagen sped around the corner at top speed and then stopped quite suddenly and cruised slowly next to him as he continued to walk. Inside was Ace, she rolled down the window and stuck her head out.

“Hey, you remember me?”

“What are you doing here?” He hoped it was an offer to drive him home.

“I watched you play tonight. Did you know, you suck?”

That was sudden.

He didn’t want to hear this.

“Thanks.”

“It was pathetic.”

“Is there anything else you wanted to say besides that I suck. Because I have to go home and kill myself.” Brian continued walking and Ace continued driving.

“Go away,” he said to Ace and he tried to walk a little faster. Could this night get
any more humiliating? Ace cruised her car next to Brian and matched pace for pace with him. He tried running then he tripped and made a large tear on the box. Ace stopped the car, opened the passenger side door and peered down at him.

“You want to come in now?”

Brian didn’t wait for a second offer and jumped in before the neighbours saw him.

Ace drove and talked. “And by the way, no it wasn’t the only thing I wanted to say to you. It’s because you suck that today is your lucky day.”

“I don’t know why. I’m walking at midnight, naked and my “clothes” is slowly breaking apart. It’s not my birthday.”

“I know.”

“And I didn’t wish on a star.”

“I know that too.” Ace was getting a little testy.

“And I haven’t won the lottery.”

“Of course not.” she snapped. “Can I finish now?” She handed Brian a small business card which read, “Ace Kwan, professional gambler and tutor of the gambling arts.”

“You’re a professional gambling tutor?”

Ace shrugged casually. “On my days when I’m not in tournaments I teach people
how to play cards. Mostly for bridge parties or poker nights with the ‘guys.’”

She turned the corner towards Brian’s house. “You play terrible and you can’t even
bluff accurately. John and Dave knew immediately what you had without even trying. I could train you to beat them.”

They stopped in front of Brian’s house and Brian carefully stepped out. The cardboard pieces became a crushed skirt where Brian had to hold both ends to his body.

“Think of me as your fairy godmother with a volkswagen. And if you don’t want
to that’s okay.”

“Why are you helping me? Is it because you care?”

Ace paused pressing a finger against her cheek, deep in thought. “No. Mostly, it’s pity. I don’t like it when they pick on the stupid. So, what’s it going to be?”

It took less than five seconds to think about it. “I’m in.”

“Good. I knew you would. Meet me on Monday morning at 9 o’clock. The address is on the card.” Then for a special effect exit she flipped a deck of card into Brian’s face. And when Brian brushed the last card away from his mouth, Ace was still there.

“What are you doing?” said Brian.

Ace realized she was still there and she quickly shifted gears and floored the gas
pedal and accelerated out of the driveway.

On Monday morning at 8:55 he arrived at Ace’s house. He knocked on the door. No response.

At 8:56 he knocked again. No response, again.

At 8:59, he became worried and banged at the door thinking she fell down, broke
some part of her body and was unable to reach for the door. He was about to break open the window with a large rock to get in and check when the door finally opened and Ace stepped out.

“Hello, have you been waiting long?” She walked around the house and opened the fence to the backyard. She waved him to come forward and Brian followed after her.

“Normally,” she said. “I charge fifteen hundred dollars for the lesson of one week.”

Fifteen hundred dollars! Brian almost felt like he was having a heart attack. He didn’t have fifteen hundred dollars. He didn’t have five hundred dollars. He was just a political science student.

“Get that look off your face. For you, I won’t charge a thing.”

Brian sighed with relief and continued to follow her. In the middle of Ace’s backyard, the place was a mess. The grass was long and bent down and the paint on the fence was faded and cracked. How was he suppose to learn how to play poker in this?
Ace dragged in a lawn-mower while Brian looked around for something important.

“Alright, she said. “This is a lawn-mower.” She turned it on. “Now when you hold it, you hold it like this. Like you would hold a deck of cards.” And she actually placed Brian’s hand onto the handle bars.

“It feels a little uncomfortable.”

“Work through it,” she simply said. “Now bend your arms and push.”

Brian pushed the mower and fresh cut grass was shot out from the side.

“What does this do?” He would like to know.

“Well, you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Push it. It develops arm strength and dexterity or whatever. Don’t question the
teacher.”

“Right, sorry.” He continued to push the lawn-mower all around the yard. Ace went inside to watch a daytime talk shows.

Around noon, he finished cutting the grass raking it into bags and putting it on the curb. After all that Ace called it a day and he went home. But before he went home he made a stop at John’s house.

The poker game in John’s kitchen was still going strong. This time they changed the poker chips into money and cookies. The mood was relatively relaxed and no one seemed to mind that the players were eating the oker “chips”. John was dealing out the cards.

He turned to Dave. “How many?”

“Two.”

He passed two. “Deb?” Debra was giving him the look. “What?” he was aggravated by the look she was giving him all night but he already knew why. And he didn’t care.

“You didn’t have to gang up on him.”

“Of course we did. Every time he comes over to play he ruins it. Even you have to admit that he’s a lousy player. He can’t even bluff. We had to teach him a lesson and turn him away from poker. Plus it was fun.”

The screen door was suddenly slid open and Brian stood in front of them. He
looked around and noticed their casual nature and the “chips” on the table.John looked back at him blandly. “Brian, welcome back. You want to play?”

Brian walked over to the table and tried to flip it over. He tried several times until
he realized it was too heavy and John was holding it down with his elbow.

“What are you doing?” John said. He didn’t bother to move his elbow as Brian was trying to lift the table.

Finally, he gave up but that didn’t stop Brian from grabbing John’s beer bottle and
gulping it down until it was empty.

Debra was disgusted. “Eew, what was that for?”

Brian belched before speaking which grossed out Debra even more. “So, when I’m not around it’s normal card game.”

“That’s right,” John said. “My house, my rules.” Brian knew that that was the be all
and end all of John’s argument.

“So when I am here, I end up naked.”

“That’s right. We were doing you a favour.”

“You could have given me back my clothes.”

John shrugged. “You lost fair and square.”

“Not anymore.”

“What was that suppose to
mean?” John said. Then Brian pointed his finger at John, Dave and then to Debra.

“Me? Why me?” Debra said.

“I challenge you to a strip poker rematch in one week.”

“Fine,” John said, he wasn’t intimidated or impressed. Then they resumed their game as if nothing happened.

On Day two of the training, Brian found himself inside Ace’s house. He was led to
the living-room and he was impressed by the wall high display case of poker trophies, all of them first place.

“Wow,” Brian whistled but Ace didn’t bring him for that, she handed him a rag and a can of wood polish. It was then Brian noticed the entire room was dusty. She pointed to a coffee-table and he began to polish the top.

“What is this suppose to do again?”

“Finger movement,” she simply said. “And the subtle skill of reaching for cards.
You missed a spot.” She pointed at the far end of the table.

“Sorry.” He dusted and mumbled to himself. Did John or Dave have to go through all this to become a better poker player? Probably not.

The pattern continued on throughout the whole week. At 9 o’clock he would show up at the house and Ace would have some odd job for him to do. By the fifth day, he was standing in front of Ace’s fence painting a second coat of white paint. He stopped mid-way, looked at the fence and looked back at the paintbrush and then at the house. He realized something very important. He wasn’t learning a damn thing about poker and the rematch was in forty-eight hours. He dropped the brush into the paint can and ran off just before Ace came out to check on his progress.

Twenty-four hours before the rematch Brian sat in the living room reading a book
on poker tips when he picked up the phone.

“Hello?” He didn’t know who it was.

“Brian, it’s me.” It was Ace. There was a touch of impatient annoyance in her voice. “Where are you?”

“At home.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like being made a fool of.” He hung up the phone. Five seconds later the phone rang again. It was Ace.

“Brian, why don’t you come back to my house and we’ll talk about this.”

“No.” He hung up the phone again. Fifteen seconds later the phone rang again. He
picked it up and slammed it down without responding to the caller. Another fifteen seconds later it rang again and he hung up on the phone before Ace could speak. This
continued for several more minutes until finally Brian caved in and picked up the phone. The constant ringing and hanging up and ringing again was driving him crazy.

“Will you please leave me alone?”

“Not until you come over to my house.”

“If I do this will you finally leave me alone.”

“Yes.” Then she hung up the phone.

Around eight in the evening, Ace sat at her front porch watching and waiting for
Brian. From the other side of the block, Brian walked slowly and casually. He distracted himself at stopping and looking at everything around him. It had finally sunk in and he was prepared for immanent humiliation and somehow he accepted that. He could see Ace pace back and forth. Halfway across the pavement Ace stopped and walked towards him.

“What took you so long? You’re late. You have a rematch in less than twenty-four hours.

“Yeah, and? So what.”

“So what? You’re in training. You should have been here hours ago.”

“Does your storm drains need cleaning? Or maybe you want your car washed and waxed? No! You want all your windows cleaned or some crappy menial job you want me to do. Just tell me now, I can’t stand the suspense. Six days, and you showed me nothing.
Was this some sort of sick joke you and John came up with…”

Before he could finish his sentence Ace slapped him. Not hard. Just a sudden tap on his forehead with two of her fingers to shut him up. And it did. This time, he calmed down.

“Are you finished? Take a deep breath an nod your head if you are.”

Brian nodded his head.

“Now, after that little breakdown are you ready to listen to me?”

Brian nodded again.

“Good. What I was going to say was that the chores were used to strengthen you physically and mentally for the second level of training.”

“Really?” Her face didn’t seem to betray any deception, no eye rolling or a half smile smirk or maybe she was bluffing. Brian couldn’t tell.

“And it didn’t hurt that you fixed my place up. Now that I know you’re determined to follow through, you passed the first level.” Brian followed her to her kitchen. On the table were several boxes of cards. She opened a box and began shuffling the pack. She stopped and took a card from the top which was an ace and laid it on the table. She
shuffled again and got a king then a queen and then a jack and then a ten all in the same suit.

“Now,” she said as she placed the cards back into the pack. “Fifty percent of poker
is strategy and shuffling.”

“What’s the other fifty percent?”

“Mind games and bluffing. You never let them know what you’re thinking or else it gives away the game. We’ll deal with that later. The trick to shuffling and having the perfect hand is to hold it a certain way. And if you shuffle it so many times you’ll end up with the card you want.” She laid out four aces and a king. “See? This is where the training takes effect.” She picked up a few random cards and held them in her hand. Ace noticed the familiarity in Brian’s eyes.

“Remember this? The way you held the lawn-mower. That means the player is unconsciously revealing two 7′s a Jack and two 10′s.”

“I never noticed that before.”

“There are a lot of things you didn’t notice. Like this.” She positioned her hands
and slightly bent her pinky fingers.

“Hey,” Brian said. “John usually holds his cards that way.”

“And did you notice it’s always two pairs of something, mostly sixes and tens.”

Ace continued to ramble on about card techniques and what to pick up and what to put down and Brian just nodded and tried to absorb it in.

Four in the morning Brian was asleep face down on the table. Cards were scattered
and piled all around his body. Ace was still talking but her voice was very hoarse. “Now
you keep the kings and discard the sevens and pick up two and so on and so on and so on…” Ace looked at her watch and gently shook Brian’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Brian sat up with a jolt. There was a card hanging from his mouth. “What?”

“That’s it, you now have all my strategies to win.”

Brian spits out the card. “Thanks,” he slowly tried to stand up and stretch his
cramped and numb legs. “Does all this training have to be at the last minute?”

“Of course it does,” she said. “It works better that way.” She flashed a card into his face. “What’s this?

“A king of diamonds?”

“See? Now go get them.” Brian’s hand was on the doorknob. “Wait.”

He stopped and turned around “What?”

“Did I forget something? Ah, forget it. It’s not that important. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Dave was shuffling impatiently for the tenth time. He looked at the kitchen clock
for the fifth time and it was 10:00. John was standing by the microwave to make another
bowl of popcorn.

“So when is he going to show?” Dave said. “It’s 10 o’clock.”

John was sitting calmly and reading the newspaper. “He’ll be here.”

“But it’s ten already.”

“He’ll be here.”

“How can you be sure.”

The screen door was slid open suddenly and sharply. Brian walked in wearing T-shirt and shorts. He sat down laughing confidently. He was psyched to take on John and Dave.

“Can’t you use the front door like a normal person?” said John. “I’m glad you made it. Dave didn’t think you’d show.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Yes you did.”

Brian noticed something was off in this room. The man sitting at Deb’s seat was not Debra. “Where’s Deb?”

“Debra decided to boycott the event because she thought we were acting like immature babboons. So I called my cousin Sam to fill in.

“Hey,” Sam said. “I’m only here because John owes
me money and won’t pay it back until after the game.”

Doesn’t matter, Brian thought. Just have to readjust the strategy.

John took the deck of cards from Dave and passed it to Brian. “Do you want to shuffle?”

Brian took the cards and smiled remembering Ace’s techniques on shuffling four
and a half times.

“Alright,” Brian said. “Five card stud and nothing is wild.” He eyed the way they
held the cards even though they were stone faced he mentally laughed, he knew what they had in their hands.

John had three 10′s, a two and a three.

Dave had two 5′s, two 6′s
and one Queen.

Sam had two 8′s, a nine, a three and a four.

Then he looked down at his own hand. His face fell and he threw his head back
and screamed, “Noooo!”

“Something wrong?” John said. John knew why and what Brian had in his hand.

Brian had a two, a three, a five, a ten and the promotional joker card.