Jenny's Wager

Jenny’s Wager

Trevor Prescott

        Beneath his jacket, Jenny's microphone made Danny's right breast feel unbelievably itchy. After being taped there all morning--since midnight, when Tuesday became Wednesday, to be exact--it was starting to grind on his nerves.

        But Danny had accepted Jenny's wager. At about ten o' clock Tuesday night, they were sitting in their apartment, talking and having a few drinks. Jenny was razzing Danny about his tendency to brag, boast, and otherwise talk too much.

        "Oh yeah?" Danny retorted. "I bet you I can go an entire day without talking."

        Despite being slightly intoxicated, Jenny was no idiot. She knew what Danny would do: he would go about his normal routine, but whenever someone spoke to him, he would cover his mouth and pretend to be a mute. Immoral? Probably. Still, Danny cared more about winning bets than morality.

        "That's too easy," Jenny replied. "I know you'll find some way of weaseling out of it. You always do. No, I don't want you to go an entire day without talking. I want you to go an entire day without saying a specific word."

        "Oh?" Danny was intrigued now. "Which word? And?"

        Jenny nibbled her bottom lip. "That's too easy. All you'd have to do is reference one thing at a time."

        "Okay, okay," Danny agreed. Indeed, Jenny was looking for a challenge this time. That was fine. Danny could take any challenge she threw at him. "What about 'I'?"

        Jenny giggled. "Well, that would be hard for you, wouldn't it? That's your favorite subject!"

        Danny rolled his eyes. "Face it, Jenny. There isn’t anything you can throw at me that I can't beat."

        This time, Jenny thought long and hard. Danny could almost hear gears were turning her head. "All right..." She jumped from her seat and scampered out of sight (swaying a bit with every step; Jenny was a notorious lightweight) and returned with a pad of paper and a pencil. She scribbled down a word in curvy cursive letters, and slid it to Danny. "You can keep that, just to remind you what you can't say."

        Picking it up, Danny stared at her word of choice for a moment, and then glanced up at her in disbelief. "How am I supposed to go a whole day without saying that?"

        "Duhrrr, I'm Danny." Jenny crossed her eyes. "I'm a big macho man. There isn't anything you can throw at me that I can't beat."

        Jenny's taunts made Danny's blood boil, but he simply smiled. "All right, let's talk business. What do I get if I win?"

        Jenny shrugged. "Well...what do you want?"

        Now gears turned in Danny's head. What did he want from Jenny? He looked her over. God, she was cocky. Danny had to humiliate her. Bring her down a peg. Teach her who was in charge of this relationship. "I want you...to be my personal slave for a day. You're going to clean our apartment, wash my car, and do whatever else I want you to do. And you're going to do it in your bikini!"

        Jenny's cheeks turned red. "Danny, you're terrible...but okay. And if I win, you have to be MY slave. You'll clean, wash my car..." She raised her leg and displayed her foot to Danny. "...and rub these for as long as I want you to." She wiggled her toes. "...And you have to do it in my bikini!"

        Thinking about wearing Jenny’s swimwear had Danny blushing now. He scratched his chin in an attempt to conceal it. "...All right, deal."

#

         Wincing, Danny reached under his jacket and scratched his breast. Electrical tape secured a small microphone to his chest, just beneath his collarbone, concealed by his shirt but still close enough to pick up Danny's every word. A wire connected to a small recorder in his front pocket ran down Danny's chest. This recorder not only recorded his voice, but also kept track of how long it had been running. If Danny pressed 'stop' at any point, Jenny would know.

        "All right, Jen," Danny narrated aloud, for Jenny to hear later. "I'm putting gas in my car. You know, that thing you'll be washing tomorrow."

        Danny brought his car to a stop in front of a pump and headed inside. There were only a few people ahead of him, and they trickled out quickly.

        "What are you needing?" Inquired a short Puerto Rican cashier.

        "Thirty on five." He handed his money over and departed before anyone else could say anything to him.

        Danny was on a roll. All he had to do was fill up his tank, and then visit Tony at work. Tony usually had very little to say, so that conversation would probably be pretty short.

        He didn't count on a very attractive redhead pumping gas behind his car. Initially, Danny viewed this as an opportunity to tease Jenny: Not only will I hit on this gal; I'll do it without losing our bet.

        ...Until he realized: Gee, Jenny might not really want to hear me hitting on another girl. That could be worse than losing.

        Resisting her was difficult. She kept throwing glances at Danny and his car. All he could do was pretend that he didn't see her. Tragically, she departed and disappeared down First Avenue.

        Dejected but not defeated, Danny got his change from his Puerto Rican friend--proffering a terse 'thank you' and not much else--before taking off toward Davis Records. To take his mind off his task, Danny popped in a CD and before long he was singing softly to himself.          

#

        Davis records was empty, like usual. Behind a cascade of dreadlocks, Tony was stoned, like usual. Clad in a stained white T-shirt and greeting Danny with glossy, bloodshot eyes, Tony looked like he'd just gotten out of bed.

        "Sup, dude...?" Tony greeted.

        "Hey man. ...Keeping busy, huh?"

        "Oh, you know...same old, same old...hey, listen...I've already taken a few breaks today, but I'm definitely exhausted...you wanna twist one up out back?"

        "I'm all set, Tony. You know I don't do that stuff any more. Not since I started dating Jen. But listen, Jenny and I made a bet."

        "A bet...? Far out."

        "Yeah. Anyway, instead of all of us meeting at your place tomorrow, we should meet at mine."

        "Ohhh...? How come...?"

        Danny couldn't help but smirk. "Because Jenny is going to lose our bet. And tomorrow, she's going to be in her bikini, cleaning our apartment. All day."

        "Is that what she gets if you win...? What if she wins...?"

        "Well, in that case, it's me cleaning in a bikini all day. But that won't happen. I got this."

        Tony shrugged. "All right, cool...we'll all show up tomorrow, and like...make fun of Jenny, for losing your bet...it'll be sweet..."

        "Sure will. Listen, I'm gonna get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow."

        With that, he left Davis Records and headed home. This would be classic.

#

        11:00PM, Wednesday night. Jenny sat in her chair with a pair of headphones over her ears. She'd already made sure that Danny hadn't pressed 'stop'; he'd succeeded in that test.

        Danny lay sprawled across his recliner, smirking at her. Jen's expression remained calm and collected. She didn't seem to be growing nervous about her imminent failure. Danny had to give her props for being able to keep her cool (despite encroaching humiliation). Finally, Jenny finished. For a moment, she just looked at Danny.

        "I know, toots. It sucks, doesn't it? But it's okay; I'll go easy on you. Don't go getting any ideas, though. This apartment's gonna be so clean, it'll be more sterile than a hospital room."

        "Danny...sweetie...what do you in your car?"

        Puzzled, Danny cocked his head. "I drive."

        "What else?"

        He thought it over for a moment. "Well, sometimes I sing. But lots of people do that. What's wrong, you don't like my sing--"

Danny's heart skipped a beat. His face drained of color and his jaw dropped open.

        "I...uh...that doesn't count, Jenny!"

        She laughed out loud, clapping her hands, even standing up to

do a little dance. "I beat Dan-ny! I beat Dan-ny!"

        "No, no! It doesn't count! Those are just lyrics! I didn't say

it to anyone!"

        Jenny paused long enough to regurgitate some technicalities. "You couldn't say it aloud at all! You said it like fifty times while you were singing!"

        Try as he might, Danny couldn't argue with her. Lacking a good response and tiring of Jenny's obnoxious victory-dance, Danny stormed to their bedroom. "Fine. I'll clean our stupid house and I'll wash your stupid car."

        "Don't worry, Danny!" Jenny chirped. "I won't make you give me a foot massage--in my bikini--until Tony and his friends get here!"

#

Hint on Danny's forbidden word: This story was originally written for a contest. Its rules were simple: write a story without using a specific (common) word. Danny's forbidden word cannot specified because it IS this word. "Jenny's Wager" won first prize.



-T