ORLANDO was a gambler, con-man and a celebrated drunk. He gambled daily and spent most of his takings at night. Money never seemed to stay in his hands for long. He was slick with cards and many found his game hard to beat. He was a three-card expert.

He lived in a backward community named Lickerish. The people were contented with a mundane existence but that was not for him. He always dreamed of living in the city but was unable to do so because the cost of living there was very high. He resigned himself to working in the small rural community, fleecing all those who fell for his con-game.
You would be surprised to see the number of people that fell for it over and over. Old men and the young, old ladies and the middle-aged housewives on their way to and from the market; children and even the differently abled. He showed no mercy. The only people who ever won at his gig were those he allowed to win in order to encourage them to go deeper into his web.

Once you lost, you could not reclaim your money. Some days things were slow, others it was hectic and exciting. As a rule, he never worked alone. He had an accomplice, a young woman named Betty. She would usually be the first to bet and win. This encouraged those who were either hesitant or suspicious. As soon as they began to place bets they were hooked.
Orlando had been arrested for gambling on more than one occasion. A few dollars here and there and he was back on the street again
His family implored him to use his talents for a more honest purpose. He ignored them because the gains were often very substantial. Even when his grandfather died he did not take the day off to attend the old man’s funeral. He hated his granddad because he had publicly condemned Orlando’s trade of choice. The gambler just kept doing his thing.
The night after his grandfather’s funeral Orlando took a few drinks. He often did this so as to relax a bit. He was high as he headed for home. While passing a calabash patch along the road, he saw a man sitting alone. He stopped and began chatting with the fellow.
“What’s up, bro?” He said.
“Just cooling,” the man replied quietly.
“My name is Orlando.”
“I am Stanley,” the man replied.
“I’m a card specialist,” Orlando declared.
“You mean a card sharp, a cheat and a con!”
The old man spoke in the same casual way.
“NO! I DON’T CHEAT!” Orlando bellowed in denial. “Look, I’ll show you. I’ll give you a fair chance.”
“Really? You would?”
“I always give people a fair chance,” Orlando contended.
“You do?” Again there was calm cynicism.
“Yes! See these cards?” He held up his three cards. The first was 10 of hearts, the second was Jack of spades and the third was five of diamonds.
“I allow them to see everything and they still get it wrong,” he urged.
“Cheat!” The old man said.
“It’s not my problem if their eyes are bad.”
“Show me,” was the calm response from the stranger.
Orlando launched into his well-rehearsed routine.
“Now you seem e, now you don’t.”
He moved the card swiftly making it impossible to tell where the Jack was.
“It’s this one,” the man said and pointed at the card. Orlando turned it up and said.
“Wow! You’re good. Now you see me, now you don’t.”
This time he moved much faster. He smiled with the knowledge that no one could ever find the Jack at that speed.
“This one,” the old man said, pointing again.
“Wow! How can you tell? Are you an artist too?”
“Kind of,” was the smug reply.
“Ok! Let’s see your gig then!” Orlando challenged, sure he would find out where the Jack was. The man ignored the offer of the cards and began his pitch.
“Now you see me, now you don’t.”

And he meant every word. No cards were needed for his gig. He just simply disappeared and re-appeared right before the astonished eyes of a petrified Orlando.

Orlando gasped, gawked and galloped all the way home. He left in his wake cards spewed all over the dam.

Orlando has now decided that it would be safer being a magician. It seems like the disappearing and re-appearing had gone straight to his head.