The Flip

*This story contains light violence, profanity, and animal rescue descriptions.*

“Come on. Flip the coin.” I looked at Ken like he had six heads. Did he want me to flip the coin for such an important decision?

“Jess, we don’t have all day. Flip the damn coin.” The agitation in his voice was getting worse. If I didn’t do something soon, I knew what would happen. And I wasn’t in the mood for it today.

I looked at the coin in his outstretched hand. He had fished it out of his pocket, and bits of lint rested on the cracked, dirty skin of his left hand.

“Jess! Seriously.”

I grabbed it and slapped his hand away. “Fine! For fuck’s sake, Ken!

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tossed the coin. Seconds before it hit the ground, Ken yelled, “Heads!”

I opened my eyes and looked at him, and he grinned the way he always did when thinking he had gotten his way. Then, shaking my head, I looked down at the coin on the driveway. “Shit! It’s heads.”

Ken was quiet for a minute, the grin leaving his face. For once, getting his way might not have gone in his way.

“Then it’s settled. No need to keep putting it off. I’ll start loading the truck if you want to get the Charger ready to follow.”

“We don’t have to go through with it, no matter what the coin says. I mean, seriously, it’s asinine to decide something life or death with the flip of a coin.”

“No, Jess, we do. It’s our last one. Those dogs need us. Besides, fate has spoken. No coincidences, remember?”

I picked the coin up off the cracked pavement and put it in my pocket. For something this monumental, I might need a tangible reminder of my stupidity.

“Bonnie and Clyde met their fate too, at the end of a federal agent’s gun. Is that how you want to go out, Ken?”

“Jess, I told you, if things go sideways, you get in the car and get as far away as possible. I don’t want you to go down with me.”

Ken gripped my upper arms and spun me to face him.

“Cuz you’ve always been here, babe. You keep me sane. Grounded. Without you, I might not hold it together.”

Someone else might have taken it as a line, a manipulation to make me go with him. But the sad truth was, it wasn’t. He truly believed he couldn’t do it without me. For ten years, it had been Jess and Ken against the world. We had struggled to make it as a small business in a town run by sharks. Our cars ran some of the fastest times on the tracks that dotted the northeast. Undoubtedly, the Charger would pull it off; I could drive it under any circumstance. But would Ken hold it together till he did the job? Would the truck?

“What about Nashua?”

I saw the twitch in Ken’s eye. I had hit a nerve. “Nashua was a fluke! God damn gun jammed. But we still made it out, hun.”

I fingered the coin in my pocket. Goddamn heads. “Please, Jess! After this, I’ll never ask anything again.”

“All right! But I am serious, Ken, never again. After this, no more jobs. I don’t care if the coin is right if the stars are aligned if goddamn Mercury isn't in retrograde; I am never doing this again! Do you hear me?”

He jumped and grabbed me into a huge hug, lifting me. Caught up in the moment, I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him. I momentarily forgot my trepidation. This man just might be the death of us both.

“You got it! Now, let’s go over the plan.”

“There are three dogs in a kennel in the backyard. From what my guy says, the dogs are in pretty bad shape. They are all skin and bones. He last saw them fight three days ago. The dudes that own the house don’t live there, and it’s in a seedy neighborhood over on Camp St. Head guy drives a late 70’s El Camino.” Ken stopped to look me in the eyes. “You sure about this?”

I glanced at the picture he had pulled up on his phone. The boxer was tiny, from the size, possibly female, and hadn’t eaten in days. “I’m sure. You get these guys out, and we're done. It will take me time and money to rehabilitate them enough to find homes. That means money. That means winning more races. Huge time commitments.”

“There’s one more thing, Jess, these guys are a little harsher than our usual guys. The head one, Lenny, he did time for drug trafficking.”

“Ken! Seriously? This is not good.”

“That’s why it’s the last job. I can’t keep putting my life on the line for these dogs without help from the other side. Empty promises, you know?”

I knew all too well. We had heard it from the time Mitch got us involved. You get them out, and we’ll fund the rest. After the first two jobs, Mitch disappeared, and so did the money. But we had found a cause we couldn’t stop supporting, even if the police didn’t take animal abuse seriously. We did.

“So, what do you want me to do?”

Ken took a deep breath, “You circle the neighborhood, out to the main intersection. Any sight of the El Camino, you radio me. My sources say they will be out of the house most of the day, back for four, because of a fight scheduled tonight. So I load up the dogs, and we head for the hills, literally.”

“What do I do if I intercept them?” I doubt Ken had thought that far ahead.

“Distract them, cause a diversion, anything, as long as you don’t put yourself in danger.” He reached over and took my hand. “If anyone gets hurt, it should be me.”

His words gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. No one should get hurt, not the dogs, not us, no one but the sick bastards who were running the dog fighting rings.

“Drug dealers, Ken? This is a whole new level of shit.”

“I know.” He dropped the cage he was readying onto the tailgate of his truck and pulled me into his arms. “Just promise me, if things go south, leave me and get out, ok?”

We pulled up in front of the rundown ranch house at three o'clock. One hour to get three dogs out should be plenty of time, I tried to reassure myself desperately. As I watched Ken quietly get out of the truck, I put my hand behind my back to make sure my gun was still there. I scanned the closest houses, but no one paid us any mind. I put the Charger in reverse and prayed as I backed up and went around Ken’s truck, starting my rounds of the street and surrounding neighborhoods.

I saw nothing during the first two passes, and Ken was quiet on the radio. Then, finally, I drove past the house and saw him lifting the second of two skeletal dogs into the back of the truck. One to go. It was then the neighbor caught my eye. She watched me zoom past and then talk into her cell phone. Shit! Had we been made? I accelerated onto the main street, a little faster than I should have, when I spotted the brown El Camino in front of me. I grabbed my radio. “Ken!!!! Brown El Camino is coming in hot, about three minutes away.” I tried my hardest to stay close while not calling attention to myself. The only response over the radio was a muffled “shit!”

“Ken, get the fuck out of there now. We just turned down Camp.” I watched in horror as the car stopped behind Ken's truck. Three guys jumped out just as he came around the corner, holding the small dog from the picture. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I saw the gun come out of the guy's jacket in the back.

In a split-second decision, I hit the gas and slammed my car into the back of the El Camino, creating the diversion I knew Ken needed.

All three turned at once. The tallest guy, who seemed in charge, started toward me. “What in the hell! Lady, what the fuck are you doing? Bill, watch the dick with my dog.”

As he got close, I put the Charger in reverse, praying it would still drive, and backed around Ken’s truck. I mashed down on the gas peddle and slammed her into drive, and my trusty girl lurched forward, steam pouring from the radiator. I saw the guy run for his car. Good, let him chase me, but I saw Ken go down. As he did, another one of the guys ran for the car. Had Ken been shot?

I braked so hard I could feel it in my chest. I grabbed my gun from the small of my back, opened my driver's door, and started firing. I could hear sirens in the distance. And Ken’s voice told me to drive. Whether real or imagined. I started forward again, tears clouding my vision as I pushed the car as fast as it would go, down the street, up the block, and into city traffic.

I had no idea what to do. My car was rapidly overheating, and its front bumper was dragging on the ground. I wasn't going to get far, and I needed a plan. Pulling into the nearest empty lot, I frantically scanned traffic to see if I could find Ken’s truck. But there was nothing. An ambulance sped past me in the direction I had come.

First, I needed a plan. If I stayed with my car and the police were looking for it, I’d stick out like a sore thumb. But I hated just to leave her here in the open. We had put so much time and money into her. I turned and scanned the lot I was in. Toward the back was a low cinder block building with a grove of trees and overgrown brush behind it. The whole place looked abandoned, the perfect place to stash the Charger. Getting back in, I backed her up behind the building, grabbed my backpack from behind the seat, and got to work covering her up. Once satisfied with my work, I removed the license plates and stuffed them in my backpack.

Back out on the main sidewalk, I started walking. The walk back to our place outside of town would take hours. I knew the chance he would pick up would be slim to none, but I called Ken anyway. It went straight to voice mail. Not knowing whether he was shot, picked up by the cops, or worse yet, the bad guys, was killing me. Stick with the plan, Jess. Head toward home and see if he’s at the rendezvous spot. Looking at my phone again, I ordered an Uber to pick me up downtown. I’d make it home and see what fate had in store for me.

I gave the driver an address on the outskirts of our neighborhood and settled into the back of the Uber. Fishing in my pocket, I grabbed the coin we tossed. Turning it over and over in my hand, I thought of everything that had transpired. It seemed like days ago rather than just this morning.

“Penny, for your thoughts, miss.”

“I don’t feel like talking, but thank you anyway.”

He stared at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes an icy blue. I had to look away. It was unnerving.

“Did you hear there was a shooting in Main South? A couple of gang bangers fighting it out, I guess.” That got my attention.

“Really? Anyone die?” I was trying my best to keep my tone neutral.

“Not that I heard. Just a whole bunch of chaos. Fuckin shit is happening way too much lately.”

When I didn’t answer, he stopped trying to make conversation and shook his head. I needed to get home, and I needed to know if Ken was okay. The uncertainty was killing me.

A short while later, we pulled into the IGA parking lot. I nodded my thanks and jumped from the car. The driver said something, but I started walking toward the store. When I saw him drive down the main road, I walked back across the parking lot and started on the three-mile walk back to Ken’s shop—our designated meeting spot. Darkness was settling around me, and it filled me with palpable dread. Once more, I tried Ken’s cell, but nothing. My heart started to race, tears pooled in the corner of my eyes, and I was sure I had worried the ridges off the sides of the coin. It felt like my last tangible connection to reality.

About an hour into my trek, just as night reached an inky blackness, I spotted the driveway to the shop. I ran, stumbling up the sandy incline of the dirt drive. At the top, there was nothing but blackness. There was no strip of light around the bay door, no warm glow from the office window, and no smoke from the waste oil burner. An eerie silence surrounded me. Ken had failed to make it back. I was sure of it now.

Leaning my head against the door, I let the tears finally fall. We had wasted it all. The long nights, the countless tracks, and the dozens of dogs we had saved in the past were all inconsequential when faced with the reality that Ken was gone. I couldn’t do it alone.

I let myself fall apart for a good ten minutes. I dropped the coin and watched it spin and spin on the broken apart door mat till it settled itself on heads. Fucking really? Heads! A humorless laugh escaped my lips.

“I see nothing funny about this situation.” His deep, unmistakable voice penetrated the night, causing me to jump a mile. I turned around to see him standing there. Blood dripped from his shoulder, and a raggedy, thin dog nestled in his arms.

“Oh. My. God! Ken!” Fresh sobs escaped from my mouth as I threw myself in his arms. The dog yipped as she was practically crushed between us. “You ass! You’re alive! Goddamn it, why didn’t you call me?” I pushed him back to take him all in: the dirt, the blood, everything. “Are you hurt? Did you get shot?”

“Grazed. You scared him enough when you rammed into the back of his car; thank you for that; by the way, he shot wide. I fell and pretended to be hit. I hid in the bush with this girl when they ran after you. I think she has an injured paw, by the way.” I scanned her front left paw while Ken kept talking. “The police came, never found me, grabbed those guys though, and towed my truck as part of their investigation. Thank god for the plates off dead Tucker’s truck.” I silently thanked dead Tucker. “Once it got quiet, I started walking, hitched a ride just outside town, and had him drop me at the IGA. And here I am. I need a beer, though.”

“But why didn’t you call me Ken? I’ve been worried sick!”

“Kind of hard when my phone is dead.” He waved his cell inches from my nose. “Where’s the Charger?” He unlocked the door and settled the dog in the dark shop.”

“Hid behind an empty business of Main. We can grab it tomorrow. It needs a radiator and some front-end work, but I think she’s ok.” I sat on the floor and started petting the dog. She needed a bath and a good meal.

“Sorry, we just go that one out, Jess. But this is it. We can’t save the world.”

“Thank god! I was just going to tell you, this is it, or I’m gone, Ken. I thought you were dead!" The dog licked my hand. “We tried. It was a good run. This is what number 14?”

“Yup. we’ve done good. But maybe it’s time to let someone else take over.” He sat on the dusty floor next to me, leaning his head on my shoulder. “But what should we name this girl? I want to keep her.”

“Me too! She's adorable, and I think she likes us.” The dog rested her head in Ken’s lap, closing her eyes. “I think we name her Flip.”

He laughed. “Flip?”

“Yeah, because she came to us by a flip of the coin,” I kissed him gently on his lips.

“You got it, Jess. Flip it is. Welcome home, Flip.”

The End