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Hey Nostradamus! By Douglas Coupland

Hey Nostradamus! By Douglas Coupland

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Oh Lord. What am I to do? I arranged to meet her at the fish-and-chips stand between Ambleside<br />

Beach and the soccer field. Jason always liked going there, so I figured it would increase the chance of a<br />

Jason vibe. Did I just write the word "vibe"? I hope that doesn't betoken the start of something bad. I<br />

was bleary-eyed and freezing, and the twins didn't seem to notice or care - oh, to be young and have a<br />

proper thermostat again. So I waited for this Allison woman.<br />

The stand was closed, and we were alone save for a few unambitious seagulls trolling the metal litter<br />

drums for snacks. The air was salty and nice, clean smelling. I turned to look at the waves, at the little tips<br />

of whitecaps, and I turned around, and there was Allison, older than I'd thought, about sixty, and smaller<br />

too, her body like a pit inside a large prune of teal-green fleece and zippers. She wore tight black<br />

leggings so maybe she was a walker. Do I care? Yes. I care. This woman was my lifeline.<br />

"Allison?"<br />

"Heather?"<br />

"I'm glad you could come meet me here."<br />

Allison said, "How could I miss it? This is the first interesting thing to happen in my life since my husband<br />

died."<br />

"I'm sorry to hear that."<br />

"Don't be. It was horrible for him. When he went it was a blessing."<br />

"Is that when you first decided to try your hand at being psychic?"<br />

"At first. I missed him like I'd miss sight or taste or hearing — he was an extra sense for me. I felt like I'd<br />

been blinded. I wanted him returned to me any way I could manage."<br />

We all walked toward the soccer field. "What happened then?"<br />

"First I went to other so-called psychics; they all checked me out and picked up on the fact that I'd<br />

recently lost Glenn. Something in my eyes, or maybe the fact that I hadn't bothered to pretty myself up. I<br />

know all the signs now.<br />

These psychics would mostly milk Glenn's death - 'I think it was a quick death - no! It was a slow death.<br />

He wanted you to be brave and not to worry.' None of it was of any consequence, but it made me feel<br />

good at a time when other things weren't working. You don't need to be a psychic to know that, but<br />

when the message comes from the spirit world, wow, you almost swoon from the illusion of contact."<br />

"Why did you decide to do it yourself? Don't you think it's sort of mean for pseudo-psychics to lead<br />

people on?"<br />

"Mean? No. Like I told you last night, it's harmless stuff, and even the worst psychic made me feel a<br />

heckuva lot better than all the Wellbutrin or Tia Maria I swallowed. Psychics are no different from quack<br />

vitamins or aromatherapy or any of that stuff you see ads for. And I'll tell you this: When people come to<br />

me, I really do help them. And you'd be amazed at the problems everybody has."<br />

"I work as a court stenographer. I think I see more problems than most people."<br />

Page 98

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