Heads or Tails

Heads or Tails

A Short Story

Copyright © 2020 Robert T. Childress

All Rights Reserved

    “Heads, we get married; tails, we break up.”

    Before Laurie could accept or decline the deal, another mortar shell exploded, much closer than the previous one.  She and Tommy both got small. Getting small was what you called it when you were receiving incoming fire and you tried to make yourself as small a target as possible. In this particular situation, that meant getting as low as possible in the smoking mortar crater they were using for cover, and trying to retreat as far as possible – turtle style – into their Kevlar body armor.

    “Hold on…let me ponder that” Laurie shouted back, just as the next mortar shell impacted a little further away. They had been coming in regularly for the last 20 minutes, but of late, they had started to fall further away – reason for hope at least.

    “Come on you sissy – what’s the holdup? They’re walking away from us for crying out loud” Tommy yelled. Walking away meant the rounds were now moving further away from, rather than closer to, the intended target. Bad news for the shooter, but good news if you were the target!

    “Okay, deal!” Laurie said, then dropped the spent magazine from her squad assault weapon and slapped a new one into place. For a brief moment, she didn’t have to yell to be heard. Nice!

    “As much as I like your decision, I feel obligated to make sure you’ve considered all the angles” Tommy grinned, reloading his own weapon during the lull.

    “Brief me” Laurie said.

    “First, you’ve got orders to Korea” Tommy frowned. “I don’t.”

    “That’s only an issue if we don’t die from these mortars, and if this deployment ever ends. You’re thinking too far ahead. Next angle.” Laurie was always pragmatic.

    “Good point” Tommy admitted. “Second, you’ve still never actually broken up with that other dude. I don’t need him or any of his friends in low places messing up my groove. That could be really inconvenient on our wedding day.”

    “First, his name’s not dude, and second, yes I did break up with him. He’s naturally devastated, but he’ll survive. Wedding day is saved. Next angle” Laurie said, smoothing her map across her lap so she could determine their next movement. Pragmatic again.

    “See, I knew you were in love with me! Even enough to devastate some other dude! Nice. Okay, my last angle – ” Tommy began, then it hit.

    When Laurie came to, all she could see was a thick mixture of fine dust and white smoke. The air was thick with the acrid scent of cordite. All she could hear was an intensse ringing in both ears that threatened to drill straight into her brain. Thankfully, that unique sensation quickly faded and she began to make out distant shouting. She held her hand inches from her face to verify she wasn’t blind. The good news was she could see, the bad news was her left hand was bloody and mangled from the explosion. Mangled, but still functional. Scrambling to her feet, she quickly scanned the area and could just make out the dark shape several yards away that she knew was Tommy. Running to him, she knelt by his side and assessed his situation. Definitely not good. A wave of nausea swept over her as she saw the front of his body armor shredded nearly clean through and his face criss-crossed by a hundred tiny lacerations. She’d seen the effects of such “sandblasting” from other mortar attacks, but never on someone she knew, much less loved. She knew he’d be okay from the sandblasting, but the significant damage to his Kevlar made her catch her breath. Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs once more, she called again.

    “Tommy – can you hear me?” she asked, checking for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. Her biggest fear now was that another mortar would vaporize them. The last blast had knocked them out of their makeshift bunker and they were totally exposed now.  Clearly, the mortar team had corrected their coordinates and were definitely NOT walking away from their position anymore.  Quickly wrapping a bandage around her own bleeding hand, she then began to dress Tommy’s bleeding facial wounds. After several minutes, he rallied.

    “Are you going through my pockets?” 

At first, Laurie thought he was delirious, but then she saw the crooked smile.

    “Quiet you idiot, you’ll draw them right in on us.”

    “Look at you, all worried. You do love me” he chuckled, then convulsed rapidly as his eyes rolled back. Laurie laid her own body over his to steady him and protect him from the blast she was still sure was imminent. Seconds later two more blasts impacted dangerously close, in quick succession, and she was beginning to hate the odds. After another minute or so mercifully devoid of mortar fire, Tommy’s body relaxed. Her face hot with fear, dreading the worst, Laurie leaned back on her knees and assessed him once more. This time, she couldn’t find a pulse. His skin felt clammy. She shuddered at the realization that, after all they’d survived together over the last five months of this deployment, it might all end at the hands of an incompetent mortar team firing off a lucky shot. Then his eyes fluttered open, and the crooked smile was back.

    “Are you ready to flip?”

    “Didn’t you have one more angle?” Laurie reminded him, quickly wiping away the tear rolling down her cheek.

    “Oh yeah. The angle is, I get to provide the coin.”

    “Fair enough” she said, readjusting one of his dressings. “One flip, no whining, no do-overs. Deal with it!”

    “Let’s do it then” he shot back as nonchalantly as he could. Then after an awkward moment, “Uh, can you get the coin out of my pocket and flip it? It seems my arms aren’t quite working just yet.”

    “Wow – I have to do everything?” Laurie said, fishing the coin from his pocket. “Okay… flipping. And like you said, heads, we get married; tails, we break up.”

    The silver coin glinted brilliantly in the desert sun as it arced above them. When it plopped into her good hand, tails staring her squarely in the face, she smiled, slipped the coin into her pocket, and gave Tommy the verdict.

    “Call the preacher – we’re gonna have us a wedding!”