Hey Nostradamus! By Douglas Coupland

"You think I slept with your boyfriend, don't you?"
I put the cigarette down on the concrete. "I did."
"When did you stop thinking that?"
"A minute ago. When you got out of your car and looked at me across the alley over there. You have a
clear conscience."
"I'm sorry I have to tell you what I'm going to tell you. I can shut up if you like."
"No. Don't. I deserve whatever you're going to say."
Two crows landed on the pavement across the street and began cawing wildly at each other. There
were needles and condoms on the alley's paving; late at night, this was the sex trade part of town. Jessica
put her hand on my forearm. "No one deserves this. Heather, here's the deal: your boyfriend came to my
mother about a year ago. He brought this sheet of paper with him. He gave my mom five hundred bucks
and told her that if he ever went missing, then she should contact you and tell you these things as if he'd
spoken to you from the dead - or from wherever it is he's gone to. He wanted you to be happy."
I sucked in air as if punched. It's the only way to describe it.
"And so my mom did that with you - she saw the story in the North Shore News that he had gone
missing - "
"Jason. His name was Jason."
"Sorry. That Jason had gone missing. She called me at work yesterday and told me what she was up to,
and I drove to her place and really lashed into her."
I'd seen the fight. I trusted this woman.
"My mom told me how she wasn't answering your calls. She has call display and can count every time
you phoned. She's sneaky. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was milking you. And she was
going to milk you dry. She has you pegged for another ten grand."
I stared at the ground. Jessica said, "Smoke your cigarette."
So we sat there and smoked. Her coworkers filed in, and she waved to them, and there was nothing
really out of the ordinary about two women smoking together outside a workplace on a cold clear
Canadian October day in the year 2002.
"What did Jason ever get into that'd make him think he might disappear some day?"
"I don't know."
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