The Odds, page 2
Rick nodded. “I believe that you and I have mutual trust. But in the same way that I don’t expect you to trust that the wheel doesn’t have a magnet that will draw it to a certain number, you can’t expect me to trust that you won’t make a run for it if you’re unlucky.”
Ethan wasn’t comfortable with this. Yet he also had to agree that there was no way in hell he’d voluntarily put his arm underneath the iron block if he chose Rick’s number. He’d flee for the exit, no question.
He sat down in the chair. He took a deep breath, then placed his left arm on the armrest.
Rick crouched down beside the chair and began to fasten some Velcro straps over Ethan’s wrist.
“Whoa—hold on, is that necessary?”
“I can only speak for myself, but I would certainly pull my arm away.”
“How do I know you won’t set it off even if I win?”
“If you think that I’m the kind of depraved freak who would bring you here for the sick pleasure of breaking your arm, then I’ll give you the opportunity to back out of our oral contract. I hope you’ll play the game, but make no mistake—you’re not the only person wandering around casinos with haunted eyes.”
“Fine. Do the straps.”
Rick fastened the straps. “And you still want to guess the number I write down, right?”
“Yes. Can we use my paper?” Ethan wasn’t sure how they could scam him, but he wanted to take every possible precaution.
“Of course.”
With his free hand, Ethan took out the note to himself. He handed it to Rick. “You can write it on the back of that.”
Rick turned the note around without reading it. “May I use my own pen?”
“Sure. Actually, no. What’s your receptionist’s name? Mindy?” Ethan called out. “Hey, Mindy, could you come in here for a second?”
Mindy peeked her head into the room. “Yes, sir?”
“Could you get us a pen?”
“Of course.”
Again, Ethan had no idea how they could scam him on this, but he wanted to take every element out of Rick’s control that he possibly could.
Mindy returned a moment later. He thanked her as she handed him the pen. As she left, he looked the pen over very carefully. Just a regular ballpoint blue-ink pen. “Here you go,” he said, giving it to Rick.
“Admirable display of caution,” said Rick. “We’ve lucked out having you as a player.”
Rick walked behind the chair. A moment later, he walked back into view and handed the note, folded into eighths, to Ethan.
“Guess the number,” Rick said.
“Forty-nine.”
Rick’s face was expressionless. Ethan suddenly felt positively sick to his stomach. How could he have been so stupid? Of course it was a trick! People in Vegas didn’t give you a 99% chance to win ten thousand dollars!
“Open it,” said Rick.
Ethan unfolded the note. He had to use both hands for this, so if he saw the number 49 on there, he’d try to quickly unfasten the straps before Rick could make it to the button.
The number was forty-two.
“It’s a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy reference,” said Rick. “I almost did a Clerks reference and wrote down thirty-seven, or a ‘Weird Al’ Yankovic reference and went with twenty-seven. What thought process went into forty-nine?”
“Not much,” Ethan admitted. “I just didn’t think you’d pick forty-nine.”
“And you were correct.” Rick reached over and unfastened the straps. Ethan quickly moved his arm, as if Rick might suddenly change his mind and push the button.
Had he really won? When was the scam going to reveal itself? It couldn’t possibly be this easy. Rick was going to tell him that it was actually ten thousand dollars off the cost of a timeshare condominium.
“Do you want the envelopes of cash, or an electronic deposit?”
Ethan didn’t trust himself with ten thousand dollars in cash. He might end up right where he’d started. Or where he still was—this whole thing was so surreal that he couldn’t quite process that he might have actually won the money. “Let’s go with electronic.”
“Do you have your banking information handy?”
“Can you use PayPal?”
“The service fee will come out of your payment.”
“That’s all right.”
Rick called for Mindy again. Ethan gave her his e-mail address and she left.
“So would you really have pressed the button if I lost?” Ethan asked.
“Yes.”
“You would’ve just sent me on my way with a shattered arm?”
Rick chuckled. “No. You would have received private treatment. People tend to ask questions when they see somebody staggering down the sidewalk shrieking in pain.”
“Good treatment?”
“Not the best doctor, not the worst.”
Ethan’s phone vibrated. A new e-mail from PayPal notifying him that $9709.70 had been deposited into his account.
The e-mail had to be fake. It would be very easy to generate a phony PayPal notification.
He opened the PayPal app on his phone.
It wasn’t a lie. The money was there. The game was real.
He just stared at his phone in a state of shock. His problem was solved. He wouldn’t have to beg for Jenny’s forgiveness. Ethan had envisioned a scenario where he literally threw himself down at her feet, sobbing, blubbering, promising that he’d do anything to make it better. His children would be watching, mortified by the sight of their father reduced to his lowest state.
Not anymore.
“Based on your expression, I’d say that the payment came through,” said Rick.
Ethan nodded. “Thank you. This saved my life.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed the first round of the game.”
“There won’t be a second round. I just crawled out of this hole and I’m not doing to dig another one. You said I could quit whenever I wanted.”
“That is absolutely true. It’s also true that me telling you about the second round does not obligate you to participate. If it doesn’t sound appealing, tell me no, and we’ll send you on your way.”
“Fine,” said Ethan. “What’s Round Two?”
“The same basic game, but for fifty thousand dollars.”
Okay, Rick had his attention. That was as much as Ethan made in a year. “What am I risking?”
“That’s also the same. I’ll strap your arm down and press the button if you lose. Essentially, the only change for Round Two is that you now have a 90% chance of winning.”
Ethan said nothing.
“I don’t know your financial situation,” Rick admitted, “but I’m guessing that fifty thousand dollars is a pretty significant prize.”
“You could say that.”
“But there’s a one in ten chance that you’ll receive, as you described it, ‘a horrific arm-breaking.’ Still a pretty small chance. The odds are greatly in your favor. But when it comes to shattering the bones in your arm, a 10% chance is quite a bit different from a 1% chance. You now have sixty seconds to decide.”
Damn. Fifty grand?
That could go straight into a college fund for Tim and Patrick. They were still eight and ten years away from that, so Ethan and Jenny weren’t stressing over it quite yet, but it would be incredible to have that money there, waiting for them.
A 90% chance.
“Just to be clear,” he said, “If I lose, I get the broken arm and I don’t get the money, right?”
Rick smiled. “That’s correct.”
“Figured I’d check.”
“I’m going to pause the sixty-second timer. Purely hypothetical question. If I changed the rules and said there’s a 100% chance of you receiving both the money and the broken arm, would you take it?”
“Are you changing the rules?”
“No. Hypothetically.”
“I don’t know,” said Ethan. “What if there was severe nerve damage and my arm never healed right? It sounds like it could be one of those things where the bones break right out through the skin.”
“That’s a definite possibility.”
“That could mess me up for the rest of my life. I’m not sure I’d do it.”
“I was just curious,” said Rick. “We’ll start your sixty seconds over.”
Ethan wouldn’t shatter his arm for fifty thousand dollars. But he was giving very strong consideration to taking a one-in-ten risk of shattering his arm for the money. He might regret this. He might really regret this. But it might also be one of the best decisions he ever made.
A 90% chance of not having to worry—well, having to worry less—about his children’s future.
“Screw it. I don’t need any more time. I’ll do it.”
“Oh, good. I thought you might be leaning in the other direction. Do you want to use the same method, or do you trust the wheel?”
“I don’t trust the wheel,” said Ethan. “No offense.”
“No offense taken. I don’t think my boss would like me using the ‘guess my number’ method again, since it’s not truly random, but I’m empowered to make decisions like this, so if that’s the way you’d like to play it, we can.”
Ethan almost said yes, but he thought about the whole “element of psychology” thing that Rick had mentioned before. People who were skilled in that sort of thing could use subtle tricks to make you think they were mind readers. When the odds were down to one in ten, Ethan didn’t want to take the risk that Rick might indeed make this less than random.
“No, I’ll write down the numbers on pieces of paper.”
Rick called for Mindy again, and she brought paper, scissors, and a green baseball cap.
“You can cut the squares, or you can pull out the number, but not both,” said Rick. “You can write the numbers, but I’ll need to verify that you didn’t press harder on one than the others.”
“You can make the slips of paper,” said Ethan. He wasn’t looking to beat the system.
Rick cut the paper into squares, then wrote the numbers zero through nine on them. He folded each number, then scooped them up and dropped them into the hat.
Without being told, Ethan sat down in the chair and placed his left arm on the armrest. Rick strapped his wrist down. He picked up the hat, shook it a few times, and offered it to Ethan. “Remember, you don’t want to draw the zero.”
As he had before, Ethan suddenly wondered what the hell he was thinking.
Was he insane?
How would he explain his mangled, useless arm to his family if he lost?
What if they had to amputate it?
What kind of idiot would agree to something like this?
“Can I still back out?” he asked.
Rick pulled the hat away. “Yes. Do you wish to?”
Ethan thought about it. Fifty thousand dollars. “No. Sorry. Just a quick moment of panic. Let’s do it.”
Rick held out the hat again.
Ethan pulled out a piece of paper.
He knew it was a zero. It felt like a zero.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He unfolded the paper.
Eight.
Rick breathed a sigh of relief. “You looked so stressed out that it stressed me out, too.” He unfastened the strap, and Ethan got out of the chair. Rick walked over to the doorway and called out “He won!” to Mindy. It was kind of amusing that a company that could afford sixty thousand dollars in prize money had Rick calling out to the receptionist instead of having an intercom system.
Ethan realized that he was covered in perspiration. It still wouldn’t seem real, until—
His phone buzzed.
He’d received the payment.
“Congratulations,” said Rick. “The odds were far in your favor but it took nerves of steel to go through with that. You are a true gamer. Can I get you anything before I explain Round Three? Water?”
“Water would be great.”
After Mindy brought it, Ethan gulped down most of the bottle of water and resisted the urge to pour the rest over his head to cool himself down.
“Round Three,” said Rick. “One hundred thousand dollars.”
“Holy shit.”
“You’re right, holy shit. Exact same penalty if you lose. This time you’ll have a seventy-five percent chance of winning. You’ll choose from four slips of paper. Three of those slips will earn you a hundred thousand dollars. One will earn you a severely broken arm. Still pretty good odds.”
“What are the actual betting odds on that?” Ethan asked.
“I’m not sure,” Rick admitted. “I know that there are fraction, decimal, and American odds, but I’m not a big math guy. We’ll keep it simple. Anyway, this time, I’m going to give you two minutes to think about it.”
“I feel like maybe I should quit while I’m ahead,” said Ethan.
“The choice is entirely yours. No peer pressure here. Except that I will say that the prize money is just going to keep going up. Let’s return to our hypothetical discussion. Would you break your arm for a million dollars?”
“I don’t know.”
“It would involve a lot of pain and suffering, but I personally would go through a lot of pain and suffering for one million dollars. People break their arms all the time. People get limbs torn off in accidents. They aren’t getting a million dollars for their misery unless there’s a lawsuit involved. You see where the game is headed, right? Pretty soon, the hundred thousand may seem like chump change.”
“How far are we into my two minutes?” Ethan asked.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be flexible.”
If he excluded the first ten thousand dollars as recouping his gambling losses, he could leave here with a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That was “pay off the house” money.
One in four chance.
Still favorable odds.
But “will almost definitely win” had transitioned to “will probably win.” Probably. It was a pretty severe penalty to risk on “probably.” And if he came home with a mangled, useless arm, it would basically ruin his whole announcement about the fifty thousand he’d won.
One hundred thousand dollars.
Seventy-five percent chance.
No. If he left now, he’d leave as a winner. He’d have only good news to share with his wife and children. They’d be thrilled when he told them. Would he regret passing up the chance to win even greater sums of money? Maybe. Not as much as he’d regret sitting in that chair with a huge metal block on his arm, gaping in horror at the visible broken bones, blood spurting all over the place.
He should quit.
He should absolutely quit.
But...
No. He should quit.
“I can’t do it,” he said. “If I stop now, it’s been an entirely positive experience. I don’t want to throw that away.”
“Playing it safe, huh?” Rick seemed more amused than disappointed.
“Yeah. You understand, right?”
Rick laughed. “I was going to destroy your arm. Of course I understand.”
“How high would the prizes have gone up?”
“Can’t tell you. A lot, though. But you’re leaving here sixty thousand dollars richer, so I can’t imagine that you’re filled with regret.”
“Nope, I’m pretty happy.”
“Let’s make it official. Are you declining to participate in Round Three?”
One hundred thousand dollars...
“Yes.”
Rick extended his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“The pleasure was all mine, I promise,” said Ethan, shaking it.
“Doesn’t it feel good to know that you can shake my hand without it jiggling the broken bones? Sorry—I try to keep the dark humor to a minimum, but sometimes I just can’t help myself. I figure, it’s funnier now than it would be if your arm had been crushed. Any plans for the money?”
“I think I’ll—” Ethan almost said “put it in my sons’ college fund,” but he’d lied about not having kids, and he didn’t want to end this on an awkward note. “—invest it. Maybe splurge a little, get a movie theater style popcorn popper, but I’ll invest most of it. Gotta be responsible, right?”
“I totally agree.”
3
Ethan sort of regretted not taking the envelopes of cash, because he could’ve poured the money out onto the bed in his hotel room and rolled around naked on it. It would probably be an overrated experience and result in paper cuts where he’d least enjoy them, but nevertheless, it was something he’d always wanted to try.
As soon as he’d left the building he’d transferred the money to his bank account. He handled all of the household finances, so Jenny wouldn’t have to know that he’d lost and regained the ten thousand, but he’d have to figure out exactly how much of the truth he’d tell her about the fifty grand. He wanted to be as honest as possible...to a point. Now that he was away from the game, he realized that telling his wife that he’d willingly let a man strap his arm to a bone-breaking machine might create challenges in their marriage.
He wasn’t going to outright lie about it. He would admit that he’d been gambling, and he’d explain that it was a cash prize from a game. He just didn’t necessarily need to include every single detail of the experience. He had two more days in Vegas. There was plenty of time to figure out precisely how to share his exciting tale of adventure.
Now that he was back in his room, his plan was to call home, take a shower, watch some TV, and go to bed. If he’d won the money when he was young and single, this would have been a very different night, but though he was a piece of garbage who would recklessly gamble away money they most definitely couldn’t afford, being unfaithful to his wife was not one of his flaws. No escorts for him.
“Hey,” he said, when Jenny answered.
“Hey, you. How’s the trip going?”
“Great. Really great. I can’t wait to tell you about it.”
“Well, I’m on the phone right now.”
“What I meant was, the training sessions are going great, way better than I expected, but the details would bore the crap out of you. I can talk you through the whole day if you want, minute by minute.”
