Hey Nostradamus! By Douglas Coupland
Hey Nostradamus! By Douglas Coupland
Hey Nostradamus! By Douglas Coupland
You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
"It's true. And I'm not the only one. Those guys you see driving in trucks and wearing hardhats and all of<br />
that, they're doing the exact same thing that I was doing. They want to get to the grave without ever<br />
having to discuss anything more complex than the hockey pool."<br />
"Jason, that's cynical and simply not true."<br />
"Is it?"<br />
Was it?<br />
Getting Jason to discuss Reg was easy. All I had to do was say that Jason's mom saw Reg in the<br />
magazine shop on Lonsdale. Instantly: "That sanctimonious bastard sold me to his God for three beans.<br />
That mean, sour freak. He should rot."<br />
"Jason. He can't be all that bad."<br />
"Bad? He's the opposite of everything he claims to be."<br />
Is he? No.<br />
Sunday night 11:00<br />
The sky was orange-before-the-dark, and I was in the vestibule organizing all of Jason's rubber<br />
workboots when Reg showed up. Pathetically, I was hoping the boots' odor might remind me of Jason.<br />
Reg's knock was startling, and when I answered the door, Reg looked at my face, and I could see he<br />
knew I'd given finally given up hope.<br />
In the kitchen he put on a pot of water for tea and took Jason's wallet from beside the fruit bowl. He<br />
removed the contents item by item, laying them out on the countertop.<br />
"So there he is." Laid out were Jason's driver's license, his North Van library card, his Save-On-Foods<br />
discount card and some photos of Barb, the kids and me. Reg said, "Heather, something happened<br />
today. Tell me what it was." He took the water off the stove before it screamed. He didn't want any extra<br />
drama.<br />
I remember reading somewhere that devoutly religious people despise psychics, Magic 8 Balls,<br />
fortune-telling, fortune cookies and anything of that ilk, considering them all calling cards of the devil. So I<br />
was pretty sure that when I told him about Allison he'd blow up or go into his lecture mode, but he didn't,<br />
and yet it was unmistakable that he disapproved. He asked, "Tell me more about the words 'Oh, I say.'"<br />
"It was this character Jason and I had between us."<br />
"And?"<br />
"He was a giraffe. Named Gerard."<br />
Page 102