11
Taylor Jax received a job at that hair salon she spoke of with Jax. The job suited her well, a nice distraction from how boring her life had become. She had never been much of a timid person and talking for an audience which may or may not care to respond felt natural. Most clients spoke sparsely while some treated her like a therapist, too afraid to go to a real one.
One new client of hers was the eccentric man who wore all white clothing. He liked to pick out things she said to argue with her over like he was trying to find the root of her thoughts or cut to a new subject. He didn’t have much hair to cut, but Taylor was used to mostly doing trims anyway. She had no idea what the man was doing in a salon anyway, but she chose to assume that he was gay and go on with the haircut as if nothing was odd. The man’s name was Austin Daark, but there was no way for Taylor to know anything more than his name being Austin D.
“My little boy Jake is growing up so fast, I just don’t know what to do about clothes anymore.”
“Buy two sizes too big, I suppose. Or, cut back on the miracle grow,” Daark said.
“I just don’t like the look of oversized clothes, and I almost feel like we can afford it.”
“Just wait till he cares, hon. When I was a boy, you could’ve dressed me up like Mr. Rogers and I wouldn’t have cared. But the minute they hit puberty, sizes matter, and it’s all about impressing the girls, or boys if he’s switching teams. I think the real question is, who cares more? Who are you shopping for? Jake, you, or some no-life moms?”
She hesitated, almost afraid to be wrong in his presence. “I guess so,” she said.
“If it helps your conscience any, baggy clothes are in.”
“How do you know?” She eyeballed a length of hair.
“Because I said so. Don’t you trust me?” he accused.
“No, I do. I do.”
“Why?” The man in white raised his eyebrow playfully.
“Because you dress nicely.”
“How do you know that someone doesn’t pick my outfits for me?”
“I don’t. But, even if you did, you would have to learn something, right?”
“So, you make me your pocket-Jesus?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Lesser version of Jesus. The person everyone listens to without question.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Taylor said.
No one ever admits to it, he thought. “What is it you’re searching for?”
“What?”
“Everyone’s looking for something, unless you’re as Zen as a monk. They’ve got it all covered.”
Taylor thought over it, and she thought it might be nice to be like one of those monks. Finding peace in a chaotic universe wasn’t exactly easy.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Well, think it over, hon. Something-something death comes for all of us.”
“That’s… ominous.”
“Only if you believe in omens.” The man laughed. “So, is Jake’s father around?”
She didn’t like the tone he used to ask about Jax. “My husband, yes. Right now, he’s off on a business trip.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s uh…” for a moment, Jax’s business title lapsed her mind. It was as if she didn’t care to know what it was. “He’s an accountant for an oil company.”
“Oh. It’s one of those business trips.”
“What?” Her voice rose to a higher pitch than she intended.
“Flip a coin, heads says he’s doing something business related. Tails—well, tails means he’s cheating.”
“I trust my husband more than that.” Her voice shook.
“Sure-sure. My grandfather gave me a silver dollar when I was a kid. He said it would be worth something one day. You know, I always used it for coinflips cause the coin isn’t balanced correctly. Must be some sort of printing error. Either way, it more or less flips as heads 95% of the time.”
Daark removed a coin from his coat pocket, and Taylor stopped working on his hair, mesmerized by the slow, methodical movement of his hand. He held the coin out in front of him; open-palmed, like a magician. He turned it over, showing the two faces. The man then balanced the coin on his thumb and flicked it so that it spun upwards and fell back into his open hand. The coin was hefty and only ascended a foot higher than his hand. It landed on the face side of the coin. He flipped it three more times as if he were fidgeting, when really, he was showcasing that the coin landed as heads each time.
“Would you like to press your luck?” he asked.
Taylor felt a certain friendly obligation to flip the coin, like a time-honored tradition, and she took the coin without a word. She lightly tossed it in her hand like a pancake, and it landed as heads, but that wasn’t a true flip. She felt as if the coin was a sure bet, like it had to land as heads every flip, sort of like lottery odds. Because, while you could possibly win the lottery, you won’t. go ahead, go prove me wrong and buy the winning ticket right this instance.
Taylor Jax placed the silver coin onto her thumb and flipped it into the air. Her eyes tracked its descent, waiting and expecting it to hit tails. She wanted to expect heads, but she was more of a pessimist, though she would never admit it aloud. Taylor’s palm lay open, flatter than the man’s had been, and the coin smacked her hand with its edge then tottered off onto the ground. Pling, Pling, and nothing.
“I’m—I’m so sorry. It just. . .”
“How did it land?” the man interjected.
Daark already knew the answer the same way he knew the innerworkings of Aaron Jax. Nothing surprised him. Taylor searched her feet for the coin and found it.
“It didn’t.”
“What?” he asked rhetorically. “Is it floating or something?”
“No, it stuck right in the groove of the floor.”
“That’s an edge flip. The rarest flip of all.”
“Well,” she said, “What does that mean for me?”
“Nothing, unless you believe in omens.”
“Let’s say I do.”
“Probably a combination of the two options. Something not considered possible.”
Taylor picked up the coin and gave it back to the man. She then proceeded to finish the haircut in a flustered haste.
I don’t believe in omens. I don’t believe in omens. I don’t. . .
“What do you think he’s doing?” she asked. “I mean, of course you don’t know, but say you had to guess.”
“Murder.” He said without a frame of hesitation.
“Really? You think murder?”
“Hey, believe me or don’t. That’s none of my concern. But isn’t murder what you’d least expect?”
“Yes. It’s very unlikely.”
Taylor smiled uncomfortably, finishing Austin D’s haircut. He left her a generous tip and lightly jogged out of the salon. Daark needed to be back in Wyoming before Jax woke up around noon.