Mahjong
Marcie dumped the mahjong tiles out onto the green felt-top table. “Shuffle.” She moved her hands in circles through the gold-backed tiles, turning them face down and mixing them up in fluid motions. We joined her. The tiles rumbled like a thunder on the table. “You hear this sound all the time in Chinatown. It’s called going swimming,” Marcie laughed and continued to shuffle the tiles.
Marcie began pulling tiles from the center of the table and lining them up face down before her. “Build your wall.” How long? “It doesn’t matter.” We stacked the tiles in four walls, Marcie, then Harold, then me, then Katie. We pushed our tile walls together to form a square.
Marcie held up a pair of dice and looked at me over the rims of her reading glasses. “I’m one. He’s two. You’re three. She’s four. Then. I’m five. He’s six. You’re seven. She’s eight. That’s your number. I’m one and five. Two and six. Three and seven. Four and eight. And nine ten eleven twelve is the same. That’s always your number.” She rolled the dice in the middle of the walls. “It’s five. That’s me.”
“One two three four five,” Marcie counted along the wall and then removed eight tiles. “Your turn,” she gestured to Harold. “One, two, three, four, five?” Harold counted along five tiles and slowly started to pull them from the wall. Marcie interrupted him. “No. We all take four cards. Four is eight. We need sixteen. Eight. Eight. Eight. Eight. Then I take one more. Because I’m first. Because of five.” Marcie gestured at the table. “Then again. Eight. Eight. Eight. Eight. We all have sixteen. But I have one more. Because of five.” Uh... I started to ask a question. “Katie stop looking so confused. I taught you how to play already.” “Mom I was seven--”
Marcie dealt the tiles and instructed us to look at our hands. “Discard all flowers,” she instructed. What are flowers? “There are four suits. Sticks. Balls. Characters. Flowers. Discard the flowers. Chinese mahjong plays with flowers. Filipino mahjong doesn’t play with flowers. Discard them.” Is this a flower? I held up a tile with a brightly colored bird resting on a bamboo shoot. “No. One of sticks.” Is this a flower? I held up a tile marked with a leafy bamboo shoot surrounded with flowers. “Yes. Good. Discard it.” Uh… okay. But they both have bamboo... I was so confused.
Marcie explained the rules: “You win two ways. With pong and chow. Pong is three of the same card. Chow is, for example, two three four of the same card. You need pong and chow and one pair.” Harold poured a drink. “Like poker?” he asked, “Pong is three-of-a-kind and chow is like a straight. Got it.” “No no no. Not three-of-a-kind. Three of the same.” “Three-of-a-kind?” Is that what she said? “Stop saying three-of-a-kind you will get confused. Pong is three. Three of the same. Chow is sequence. For example, six seven eight. When you win you say mahjong.” Uh...
As we sorted our tiles by suit and number, Marcie coached us, “Look at your cards. You will see a strategy. I am going to try for ambition. Ambition is seven pairs or escalera. Escalera is one two three four five six seven eight nine of the same suit. I am going to try for seven pairs. See here I have five already.” I looked at my tiles. I saw no strategy.
Marcie discarded a tile to the center of the table. “That’s chow for you Harold.” Harold stared down at his tiles. He took the five of balls. “Now discard one.” Harold tossed the nine of sticks. “Good! Smart! Discard the highest or lowest. It’s harder to get chow. LA?”
Um… I looked at Harold’s nine of sticks. Marcie helped me. “You don’t want that. Draw from the wall.” I drew from the wall. Six of characters. I already have three of these. Is that pong? “That is called secret. If you already have pong it is sagasa. But you didn’t pong. Put them all face down and say secret. Draw from the flower wall. Oh LA, you are very lucky.”