Game Over Cards

Truly skilled make their own luck. It was sure a motivational sign, for the skeleton of a shed that it was attached to.

In the dimly lit room, the smell of cigarette smoke and freshly cut wood assaulted Trader, and he coughed in response.

Trader was sat at a flimsy log table with the bark intact. Opposite of him, a man occupied twice the space he did. Shoulders that strained the seams of his shirt, hands calloused. He stomped a cigarette stump into the creaking floor, but another was already nestled between his lips.

At the centre of the table, brand new cards: Two small, coloured decks, both having all the value cards lower than five, and a single joker. A third grey deck, with cards of value 5 and more. Trader's eyes flickered to them as the man cracked his knuckles, the sound of branches snapping, or in his case, whole logs.

“Rudemaker’s. First to 2 – One joker in deck.” The man said in a low rumble.
Trader avoided eye contact. He picked the blue emerald deck, official and simple, leaving the fiery diamonds to his opponent. Trader took the sizable grey deck and begun shuffling it. For a while, it was the only noise, apart from the occasional creak of the wooden boards beneath their feet.

The man took a deep drag from his cigarette, his gaze never leaving Trader. He tapped ash onto the floor, waiting. When the shuffle was ready, Trader revealed four cards, making up the central shop: King♣, 5♦, 6♦ and 7♦.

He did attempt to banish the King to the bottom of the deck, as per the regular rules of setup, but his hand was slapped away. “Rudemaker’s don’t do that.” Traded didn’t ask further, despite the unorthodox setup seeming counterintuitive for a test of skill – Although given the signage outside, that might as well been the point.

Setup complete, Trader dutifully drew four of his blue cards, wincing slightly. The man in front of him picked up his hand in one swift motion and examined them only for a brief moment. His face remained in an unreadable brow.

"You don't look like the type who plays cards much." The man said, breaking the silence. His voice was gravelly, each word drawn out from good inhale from his cigarette.

"I play enough.”

They were playing Marketplace, a simple deckbuilder. They were tasked to buy the grey-backed cards from the shop, adding them to their decks - First to buy 2 face cards wins. Overly short variant, more luck than skill.

"Not enough." the man said while throwing down his entire hand, revealing perfect first draw — Joker, 4♣, 3♣, and 2♣. Joker could double any card: The result was a perfect 13♣, exactly enough to buy the king from the shop. The man put the face card to the side, and that put him to a non-insignificant lead.

The man leaned back, inhaling again. Smoke trailed from his nostrils like the breath of a dragon. "This ain't just cards, boy. Every point’s a test." He smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant sight. "In here, you either win, or you pay. Simple as that."

"Pay with what?" Trader feigned ignorance. His eyes flickered to the man's calloused hands, to the knife marks on the table.

"That’s the fun part." He tapped his chest, where Trader noticed a faint scar running diagonally across his collarbone. "You keep losing, and the stakes get higher. Could be money. Could be something else."

Trader swallowed hard. His eyes darted to the door, but something in the man’s gaze kept him frozen in place.

The man replaced the empty spot in the shop with a new card; Jack♥. Another face card.

“Your turn.” The man spoke, his voice almost mocking. "Or you ready to check out?"

Trader stared at his hand. 2♦, 2♥, 3♥, and 4♥. The shop was full of diamonds, yet his hand was filled with hearts. He could cycle away his 2’s, try to find the joker from his deck to buy the Jack♥ and level the score. Or he could throw his hearts out, hoping for more diamonds, so that he could buy a simple value card and improve the strength of his deck. His mind raced, but his hands had already acted.

Trader had tossed out the three hearts to his cycle pile, more of a general unkempt zone of the board, drawing three new cards. Revealing a 4♦ and 2♦ from his hand, he reached for the 6♦, sliding all three cards into the cycle zone. A weak move, but a safe one.

The man smirked. “Buying time. But that’s not how this works. Every card you buy, every move you make, ties you deeper to the game. You’re not just betting on cards, boy. You’re betting on yourself.”

The man didn’t waste any time by thinking. After tossing out two hearts from his hand and drawing back up to four, he casually threw down his next hand: 2♦, 3♦, 4♦. He reached for the 7♦, adding it to his pile. The Jack♥ still sat on the table, taunting Trader, but neither man could take it now; They had both tossed out their hearts, they had to wait until their decks ran out, so they could shuffle their cycle piles the cards within either used and bought, back to their decks.

The game continued for a while, and a shuffle of their decks later – Trader drew his next hand: 2♠, 3♠, 4♥, and — there it was. The Joker. Relief flooded his chest, but it was short-lived. The man’s eyes narrowed, catching the subtle shift in Trader’s expression.

"Got something good, huh?" The man leaned forward, the chair groaning under his bulk. His grin widened, showing yellowed teeth. "Let’s see if you know how to use it.”

Trader stared at the Joker. He could double the 4♥, giving him a total of a solid 8. If he tossed his spades and drew his 3♥, he’d hit 11 – Just enough to snatch the Jack♥ and finally start catching up.

But something about the man’s smile, the way he spoke with such certainty, made Trader hesitate: If Trader didn’t hit 11, he’d have a dead hand. Meanwhile his opponent could snatch the Jack and close out the game.

Everyone ought to know; He had better odds not going for the Jack. But this wasn’t just about numbers. Luck, after all, was made by the skilled.

Trader swallowed, then tossed away his spades. He revealed two cards: 3♠, and... 3♥. He reached for the Jack♥ and pulled it to the side.
The man’s smile faltered. He flicked another cigarette from a crumpled pack and lit it with a single practiced motion, the flame casting sharp shadows across his face.

"Not bad." He muttered, taking a long drag. “But the game’s gonna bite you back, boy. It always does."
Trader tensed. "What do you mean?"

The man leaned back, exhaling smoke through his nose. "Let me make it simple for you." The man’s voice dropped, soft but lethal. "If you lose, you pay. Not with your money. Not your body. With something that matters."

Trader’s hand trembled as he reached for his deck. The air in the shed felt colder now, the cigarette smoke swirling around them like a stormcloud. Trader shuffled, trying to focus on the sound of the cards, the rhythm, anything to drown out the man's words.
The man continued. "I'd wager that your life would matter the most for you."

"Safe bet."

It was the opponent’s turn. All four slots of the shop had a value card. He managed to buy a 9♦. Instead of filling the shop position instantly, he was busy lighting up another cigarette.

Trader drew a full hand of four cards. His breath caught.

2♣, 3♣, 6♦, and — the Joker.

Both men’s eyes were glued to the grey deck, where the top card was being revealed.
If it were a face card, and he could buy it, the game would be over. Something larger than life was on the life, he could surely ask any question, ask any favour.

And if he lost?

The man turned over the card in his hands and placed it to the shop: Queen♦.

The man took another drag, eyes sharp, waiting.

Trader made his move. He revealed his Joker and 6♦. Twelve, just enough. He reached for the Queen♠, his heart pounding like a drumbeat in his ears.

The man didn’t flinch, didn’t speak. He simply leaned back, smoke drifting lazily from his nostrils.

As Trader pulled the Queen to his side, winning the game, a single thought echoed in his mind, he muttered it under his breath. “What if I lost?”

“Wait up.” The man groaned. “I call.”

“You call...?” Marketplace was one of those game with many rulesets. The casual version, like in poker, lacked many of the bluffs and reactions possible in the real game.

The man revealed two cards from his hand wi+h an ugly grin. 8♦ and 4♦. Exactly 12, same as Trader. The ruleset on the auction was always muddy, so the man reminded. “I’m calling equal. That Lady is either going to the back of the deck, or you can fight for her and call higher.”

“Go ahead.” Traded said. He was visibly frustrated at the outcome, as that needed not be hidden behind a poker face.
“If I had had one higher, would’ve stolen the game from you. I should’ve taken the five from earlier, huh?”
“Don’t start retelling your victory – Not yet.”

“With your name, boy, I thought it’d be closer.” The man said. He was stuck shuffling his deck, so Traded decided to reveal the next shop card for him.

Ace. Hearts. 14. Those quickly became dead on the board, but especially in such a fast format – Even one face card on the board meant that the game would be based all around trying to luck out and get the perfect hand for it, or in the case that didn’t work out, as was the case here, it was all about preventing its acquisition.

So, when Trader’s turn came, he sacrificed few 2’s, from heart and diamond, his only two strong suits. He threw them haphazardly at the end of the table. In the words of the world-class player turned TV caster for the global events: "No good game of Marketplace, where 2’s don’t get thrown out." After all, they are barely useful even at early game. Most players swear on wasting the first few turns simply on throwing them out as soon possible. And for their valiant, yet expected sacrifice, Trader banished the Ace to the bottom of the shop deck, a 5♣ taking its place.

“You know, boy, you can check out. No need to keep playin’.”
“Plenty of reason; It’s not over yet.”

“Then you may want to increase the wager.”

The very professionals who played gambling games for money, did allow for that in Marketplace. With 16 face cards including aces, the maximum wager one could build up to was 8. Eight priced possessions, royal relics, lost paintings, whatever one painted the face cards as, before the game would be over.

“What do I get out of that?” Traded asked.

“Anything.”

“Don’t I get that out of the first?”

“Everything ain’t anything, boy. You came here wanting part of everything, but more specific it is, harder it is to take out.”

“I see. Like dentistry.” Traded bit hit lip. He clearly didn’t mean for it to come off as rude. But he was a quick thinker, evident in his reply. “But that’s not what you wanted, right?”

A slam to the table threatened to topple the decks.

“My daughter's going to be alive.” He said, while fixing up the decks that moved. “Thanks to this.”

"So, no reason to wager more?"

"Guess not."

Many thoughts were where Trader’s focus on his card should’ve been. So, when he did play, trying to buy a 10♥, he hadn’t considered the decks; A single card in his opponent’s, all rest fanned out in his cycle pile. Had he considered it, he would’ve avoided what came next.
“I raise, 13.” Joker, 5♥ and 3♥.

Using up the Joker. The man couldn’t afford losing the 10; It was his only ticket to having any impact on the suit. Trader had to give it away. Losing a call like this did give him an extra turn, but it nearly always worse than the original move. During his extra turn, Trader had to remove a face card that the 10♥ had been replaced with, one that the man could've taken on his own turn. Trader losing that auction had been a blessing in disguise. Any professional player's nightmare, avoiding loss by misfortune while playing suboptimally.

Traded was, after all, the most dangerous thing to a good player – An inconsistent one.

“So.” The man spoke in his gravelly voice. “Who’re you trying to save?”

Trader didn’t respond, maybe he had ignored all else than the game because of his earlier blunder. A few hands were played, deck shuffled once, and after a long drought, lack of any face cards – Or maybe a refreshing stream, a streak of good luck, given how both players’ decks had become quite filled with big numbers. When finally, a long streak of face started to be revealed, though, through fault of not wanting to risk opponent getting their hands on them and ending the game on the spot, each player in turn, sacrificed their worst cards of each suit in order to push the face cards back to the bottom of the shop deck.

The cards pushed to the back of the shop deck were instead fanned out face-up next to it, lined up. A simple quality of life, so that the end of the match would not become a game of memory, or as it had become so often on TV, notework.

Noteworthily, it served a different purpose for this game, given that it reminded the players that the only suit of face cards left in the face-down portion of the deck was no other than heart.

At this point, having any other suit in hand was a waste. Otherwise, when those face cards would show their faces, one would have to sacrifice their more important cards, just to fan hearts face-up at the back of the shop deck, away from the opponent’s reach.

Trader grinned, and the man did so too. Trader attempted to buy the only heart left in the shop, a 9 that would no doubt help when the next fated face card would turn up.

“I rise.” The man said. Trader’s 3♥ and 6♥ were met by the man’s familiar, lone 10♥.

One mistake, and it kept haunting Trader. That’s how life was, after all. You couldn’t escape your demons; You could only make more. Isn’t what the game was about, too? Trading something for one's own dreams?

“I rise, too.” Traded responded with a Joker he had been trying to save for the eventual face card reveal.

“I rise.” The man threw down his own Joker. His bet was lesser in scope; Less cards. Yet the bid was clearly stronger.

“Alright.” Trader said, defeated. He returned his bid to his hand. The man was a proud owner of a 9♥ and a 10♥. When one man held two of the highest of a suit, that was a scary combination.

Trader had his extra turn, now, thanks to the rude interruption of the auction. But before it, the 9♥‘s now-empty spot at the center of the shop had to be filled by a fresh draw. Ace of Hearts.

The man threw his cards away. He had seen Trader’s hand, partly, but that was enough to know: 3♥, 6♥ and Joker, that is a respectable 15, enough for any face card.

Line, hook, sinker. Fresh catch. Despite the quality of life brought by the fanning of the back of the shop deck, memorization was still a core part of any game. The shop’s deck size, it didn’t read anywhere, it was not obvious in the heat of the game. But Trader knew: 8 cards. It was easy to forget a detail so small, especially when it came from the few face-down cards left on the board.

“4 face cards of a suit, all hearts, and all tucked between 8 cards.” His tone almost dripped with deserved conceit.

It took the man a moment to realize the play; Every lost auction would give Trader an extra topdeck from the shop deck. 8/4 cards, it was a 50/50, a coin toss, that let him win. But as it read outside the shack: Truly skilled made their own luck.

One would expect a man of his stature to turn violent, to scream, kick punch. Maybe growl. Expecting a plea of mercy, that would surely be a sight worthy of such a victory. But none of that. The man, simply sat, still, silent. The creak of the floorboards betrayed him, though; Under the table, his knees shook. Getting used to winning, sure, that’s a thing sometimes. But getting used to losing, even the worst couldn’t manage something like that.

Trader, at the end of the day, was a man who called a spade a spade. “You asked me previously, who I wanted to save. I didn’t answer. I apologize for that.

The answer is quite simple. It’s whoever’s life you wanted to sacrifice for your daughter's."

Judges, valets, bodyguards, whatever they were, took hold of the man with their rubber gloves.

Trader’s voice was like ice forming in one’s throat. It wasn’t cold per se, but it was sharp. “Unfortunate for you, then, that that life never was yours.”

Despite his muscular stature, the man let himself be dragged out to the room behind him. His eyes, the tears, they reflected someone whose name they had not taken seriously enough.