Douglas Coupland - Girlfriend in a Coma

Megan's hair is now long and falls to the side of her head like a bird lowering its wings as she pulls into the driveway of Jenny Tyrell's house. Its lawn, like all lawns, has turned into a scraggly meadow; the Christmas decorations have faded after a year of neglect; the shingles have begun to snaggletooth; the cars in the driveway are coated in dust, and the tires have gone flat—a fairly good indicator that there'll be Leakers inside the house, and indeed there are—Mr. and Mrs. Tyrell, mummified and serene on the living room floor surrounded by books of family photos, Mrs. Tyrell's wedding dress, a wine bottle, and two glasses. No odors.

"Yo! Mr. and Mrs. Tyrell—" Megan gives the parents a fond gaze.

"Came to check out Jenny's stuff. She's over at the mall in Lynn

Valley. Mind if I go upstairs? Thanks. Oh look, Janie—Jenny's room is a pigsty like always."Megan unstraps a googling Jane and puts her on Jenny's bed. The room hasn't changed much; the door was closed, so there's little dust. Makeup and clothes are scattered about. There's a photo of Megan, Jenny, and the old gang on the grass hockey team; ski boots; several Alanis Morrisette posters on the wall; and on the desk a diary— Megan had no idea Jenny kept a diary. "Move over, Jane—we're going to be here a little while." Her eyes moisten; her heart explodes.

September 28, 1997

Who does Megan think she is? Just because she's dating an older guy she thinks she's Mrs. Hot Shit. His name is Skitter and it's not like he's a big catch or something. He's got nice legs and he's buff, but he's so crude and he dresses like a metal-head and a druggie. Please give me a ten-foot pole.

Won our grass hockey game today. 5 to 3 against Hillside and I got a goal. We rock!

"Jenny, you cow. You were jealous from the word 'go,' and you know it. You tried to worm your way into everything me and Skitter did. Skitter's nickname for you was 'The Remora Fish.' I pitied you."

October 13, 1997

Megan got dumped by Skitter, but she tries to make it sound like she left him. As IF. She's really far away in her head these days, so it's no wonder she got the boot. I think it's because of that loser school she goes to—the school for losers down in North Van. I'm going to try and think of a way to call Skitter without looking like a slut. Maybe I'll call and ask him where I can score some hash. I've still got his number.

"Now this is really too much. Way too much. I left him, thank you. Because he was a cheating tightwad bastard and I ended up buying everything he asked for and I realized he just uses women-even having high school girls pay for his own cigarettes." Megan finds herself missing Jenny dreadfully.November 2, 1997

Wow! Megan's mother came out of her coma. Wow!!! She's been in it as long as I've known Megan, which is my whole life, which is a pretty long time. It was in the papers and on TV and everywhere, but Megan's family won't let anybody take pictures so they keep showing that creepy high school photo Megan's dad keeps in the den. I guess this means Megan is going to be ignored even more by her family. Ha HA. Now she'll know how it feels to be left out in the cold like me. I tried to call, but the phone was busy all day.

Later on I went with Skitter to one of his friends, but they weren't there so he pried open the door and we made out for 3 hours and it was really sexy being in somebody else's house.

"Jenny, you are so crude. You take my mom's waking up and twist it into something about you. You had nothing to do with it, and as for Skitter and other people's houses, he was a real perv and went out of his way to do it in cool places like the changing room at Le Chateau, which, I have to admit, was a real turn-on."

December 26, 1997

Megan and I are friends again, and to show it she invited me to a party down at Lois's and I got to see KAREN for the first time close-up. She was so scary looking—like she was anorexic to the point of death and it's so sick to think of Richard and her making it. Ick-o-rama. Maybe Richard'll wait a few months until she puts some meat on. She looked at me like she knew my secrets or something. She's just really really creepy.

Returned most of my Christmas presents today. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but I could really use the cash to buy the tool kit Skitter keeps talking about. His birthday's next week.

"I'm not even going to dignify your comments about my sacred mother by replying to your adolescent filth. And as for Skitter, hey, itlooks like you're falling into his 'buy-me-something-or-I-leave-you' act. Sucker."

December 27, 1997

Bought Skitter's tool kit, but it was so expensive I nearly freaked out and I had to go sit and hyperventilate for fifteen minutes afterward in the Subway sandwich place and then I ate too much.

"The Remora" and her Mom and Lois were on TV and they looked way better than they do in real life, and Megan looked like such a goody-two-shoes and you never would have known to look at her that she did Warren and Brent on the SAME NIGHT last year at the Burnside Park party.

"That does it, Jenny—you are no longer my friend. One of the best days of my life, and then you go and hang out with me the next day as if you hadn't put all this crap into your diary!" She pauses and breathes. "I miss you."

A wall glows golden, and then I appear from within a mirror.

"Oh," Megan says, "it's you."

"Such a warm reception, Megan. Do you get many visitors from the dead every day?"

"Go away. You're probably not even a real ghost. You're probably something cheesy way down the food chain, like a sprite or a wisp."

"Me? A sprite? I think not."

"Go away. Go say 'boo' to people, Casper."

"What did I ever do to bug you so much?"

"If you're such a big ghost, why don't you take me away from this slag heap of a world and on to someplace better?"

"Because I personally can't do that."

"Just as I thought. You're a sprite. Go twinkle somewhere else. Don't bug me, transparent loser."

"Whoa, man! What's with this angry little stance? Don't you want to see a miracle or something?"

"I've had enough miracles for one lifetime, thank you."

I change subjects: "Your baby's pretty. How old?"

"Six months."

"Why did you name her Jane?"

"Jane seemed like the name of somebody who never has a damaged life. Janes are always calm, cool, and up to date."

"Nice eyes."

"They're Skitter's eyes—crazy eyes. They're blind. Hamilton said that looking at Janie's eyes was like looking at a full moon and then realizing that it's just one day short of being truly full. That was before we figured out she was blind."

"Hamilton's been saying stuff like that since kindergarten. I knew him and your father my whole life."

"You at least had some friends. I don't even have one anymore. I miss Jenny real bad." She hands me a wad of Jenny's CD's and says, "Want a CD collection? Lots of dance mixes."

"No thanks."

"Go away."

"What's wrong, Megan?"

"I said go away."

"Are you lonely?"

"No!"

"You can tell me if you are. Do you miss Jenny?"

"That treacherous scag bag?"

"Yes, that treacherous scag bag."

Megan stays silent for a minute and I give her all the time she needs. "I miss her. I'm lonely. I want to change the subject."

"To what?"

"I dunno. You choose."

"Fair enough. Let me ask you a small question: Tell me, what is it like to be living in the world the way it is now?"

"That's a small question?"

"Well, it's a good question. Give it a shot."

"You sprites just never quit. Okay. Let me think." She doses Jenny's diary and leans back against the wall, Jane on the bed by her side. "The world right now—gee, Jared, it's one party after another.Funzies. Ooh. I'm having so much fun it hurts." She feigns stitches. "What do you think, bozo? Every day is like Sunday. Nothing ever happens. We watch videos. Read a few books. Cook food that comes out of boxes or cans. No fresh food. The phone never rings. Nothing ever happens. No mail. The sky stinks—when everybody died, they left the reactors and factories running. It's amazing we're still even here."