Hey Nostradamus! By Douglas Coupland

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that's not an option anymore. Finally, Allison knocked on the stall door. She said she was sorry, but she had to leave. I asked her not to, but she said she didn't have a choice. "I told the girl at the ball pit entry way to keep the kids there until you return." "Thanks." * * * I am not a stupid woman. I am aware that there is a world out there that functions without regard to me. There are wars and budgets and bombings and vast dimensions of wealth and greed and ambition and corruption. And yet I don't feel a part of that world, and I wouldn't know how to join if I tried. I live in a condo in a remote suburb of a remote city. It rains a lot here. I need groceries and I go to the shopping center. Sometimes they'll be rebuilding a road and putting those bright blue plastic pipes down in holes; there'll be various grades of gravel in conical piles, and I almost short-circuit when I think of all the systems that are in place to keep our world moving. Where does all the gravel come from? Where do they make blue plastic pipes? Who dug the holes? How did it reach the point where everyone agreed to be doing this? Airports almost make me speechless, what with all of these people in little jumpsuits eagerly bopping about doing some highly qualified task. I don't know how the world works, only that it seems to do so, and I leave it at that. Sunday night 7:00 Barb gets home in a few minutes. From now on I'll have to write this using my Soviet coal-powered Windows system. I also phoned Reg, and asked him to come for a late dinner at my place tonight. I feel like I need family. My immediate family's all over the country, so Jason's family will do in a pinch. I'd like to be able to call Jason's mother at the extended-care facility, but . . . when she's on, she's great, but when she's off - which is nearly all the time now - I might as well be talking to a tree with its branches flapping in a storm. No friends to visit. They're either married and moved away, or single and moved away. I could phone them, but they're spooked by Jason's vanishing. They feel sorry for me. They don't know how to discuss it, and when they phone, I'm wondering if they get a poor-Heather thrill at the fact he's still missing. Any news? Nope. None? Nope. Page 100
Oh. So, um - what are you up to lately? You know. Work. Oh. Well.. . See you one of these days. '<strong>By</strong>e. * * * I've gone through my memory with a lice comb, and I still can't find any evidence that Jason was connected to ugliness or violence that might in some way have led to his disappearance. I've seen killers galore in the courtroom, and despite all of those he-was-just-a-quiet-man-a-perfect-neigh-bor things you hear on TV, the fact is that killers have a deadness in their eyes. Their souls are gone, or they've been replaced with something else, like in a body-snatcher movie. I was always happy to be invisible in a courtroom when a murder trial was happening, but it was always the killers who tried hardest to make eye contact with me. During a month-long trial I'd typically look in their direction just one time, and there they were, meeting my glance head on. So no, Jason was no killer. I knew his eyes. He had a fine soul. Did Jason have a secret life before me? No, nothing scary. He was a contractor's assistant. He picked up drywall, he cut tiles, and he did wiring. His friends weren't truly friends but glorified barflies. The more they wanted to know about the massacre, the less Jason spoke with them. I'm sure they must have been spooked by this, but nobody was ever surprised. His boss, Les, was a good-time Charlie whose wife, Kim, monitored him like the CIA. We had a few barbecues and company picnics together. Les is about as dangerous as a squeak toy. I tried asking Jason to open up about his past. This was surprisingly hard to do. I know that most guys aren't talkative about themselves, but Jason, good God, it was like pulling teeth out of Mount Rushmore getting him to tell me what he did before he got hired by Les. He'd been working in a kitchen-cupboard-door factory, it turned out. "Jason, my two cousins work for Canfor's wood panel division. What's the big deal?" "Nothing." I pushed and prodded and pleaded, and finally it turned out he was ashamed because he'd only taken a factory job so that he wouldn't have to speak with people during work. "There's nothing wrong with that, Jason." "I went for almost four years without having a real conversation with any other human being." "I -" Page 101
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Hey Nostradamus! By Douglas Couplan
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house was quiet - not even a clock
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I said, "Let's talk about it at hom
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Dear God, Remove the blood from the
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My family didn't know what to make
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Dear God, What's hardest here is th
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The important thing is that we were
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only indicate Your absence - that f
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outfits must have made us look all
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And I did have questions and uneasy
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late into the game, I think." "What
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didn't hurt, the shooting, and I di
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someone who spends her days deliver
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ecame ghosts. The only thing that c
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It's a bit later again, still here
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on a locker's ventilation slits. "L
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turned around to me and said, "You
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their badge. Another cop looked at
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myself reflected in the one remaini
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* * * Like anyone, I've seen those
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I sat down, while Mom gave Joyce a
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Mom said, "Didn't you hear me?" Dad
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"Stick a potato in it. Your job, by
Page 47 and 48:
"Barb?" "Go now. Because I'll break
Page 49 and 50: the water, and here I am now in my
Page 51 and 52: My main memories of those two weeks
Page 53 and 54: Just don't screw your life up the w
Page 55 and 56: was in. What came over me? It was n
Page 57 and 58: I changed the subject. "How long ar
Page 59 and 60: In the third week after the massacr
Page 61 and 62: don't, and they all work so hard -
Page 63 and 64: Alive! friends look forward to the
Page 65 and 66: But I was going to say that when it
Page 67 and 68: "Tell me." "He said, 'Who are we to
Page 69 and 70: "I've heard of that. More for me, t
Page 71 and 72: I dropped the rock onto a nearby bo
Page 73 and 74: But I hadn't killed Yorgo. I stoppe
Page 75 and 76: * * * I'm in a Denny's in North Van
Page 77 and 78: "No. Just you." I was confused. I h
Page 79 and 80: have a carry-on bag? So that some c
Page 81 and 82: I was going to motion to the elevat
Page 83 and 84: Saturday afternoon 4:00 I met Jason
Page 85 and 86: Barb's commuting down the coast, an
Page 87 and 88: "Heather, how many people are in th
Page 89 and 90: Okay, Barb's housekeeper will be in
Page 91 and 92: Oh, Heather, you knew it wouldn't b
Page 93 and 94: "I'm driving." "So?" I didn't argue
Page 95 and 96: kitchen table where I picked at the
Page 97 and 98: "Wait. Hold on a minute. When you g
Page 99: It was becoming windy, and our voic
Page 103 and 104: "Why did he say, 'Oh, I say'?" "Bec
Page 105 and 106: first disappeared, but which I've s
Page 107 and 108: What has happened to me? I've gone
Page 109 and 110: In my peripheral vision I'm also no
Page 111 and 112: sweater and readying my purse. "Oh,
Page 113 and 114: morning jobs, and he clocked out ea
Page 115 and 116: Tuesday afternoon 3:00 I was eating
Page 117 and 118: "No, I'm not." And he wasn't. Reg h
Page 119 and 120: "Five thousand dollars." "I figured
Page 121 and 122: existence. This is when I felt the
Page 123 and 124: "How could Allison have known such
Page 125 and 126: Okay then, what did happen? I follo
Page 127 and 128: Five years ago, before I met Jason,
Page 129 and 130: Allison didn't like this. "Oh, real
Page 131 and 132: I was appalled. "How could you use
Page 133 and 134: eating an egg salad sandwich, when
Page 135 and 136: We were in the Keg at the foot of L
Page 137: But I haven't lost you, my son. No
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Hey Nostradamus! By Douglas Coupland

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