Rewind Park

Stella

"I hate talk radio," she complained. "What the fuck were you doing this morning, Eugene?" Her voice was smokier than usual. "It sounded like a fucking earthquake." 

Not waiting for me to respond, she turned to dig in the sink. She lifted a ceramic coffee cup from some hidden recess in the dirty dishes and held it up to inspect the stains at the bottom. 

"Thanks for making coffee though," she said, making a noticeable effort to sound nicer. 

My mind raced. All my instincts told me to tell Stella what was happening to me. But I couldn't come up with a way to start that didn't sound absolutely crazy. 'I can see into the future,' and 'I think I might be caught in a time loop' both sounded pretty insane. 

"Hey asshole," Stella rang out again, "I said, 'thank you for making coffee.'"

"Oh right," I mumbled and stared down at the steam rising from my coffee cup, "no problem."

I again reached for the words to explain my situation to Stella, but something about the expression that came over her face, as her eyes moved from the snow-globe on the counter to the crayon-written Uni-bomber prediction on the table, told me to wait.

Stella sniffed the air as she climbed into one of the kitchen chairs. "You're not in here getting high are you?" 

She folded her long legs into the seat and rested her knees against the edge of the tabletop. Her eyes, weary dots of blue in the smear of last night's mascara, watched me suspiciously. 

"You know we have shit to do today, right?" she asked. "We're meeting Jigs and the new drummer this afternoon." She took a loud sip from her coffee. "Don't be a burnout please." 

"I'm not getting high," I said, wishing it was as simple as that. 

"Then what the hell are you doing? Why is my snow-globe down here on the counter?" 

I rubbed my hand through my hair and looked down at my pinky toe. 

"I tripped on your bass," I said, trying to sound more crabby than freaked out. "That's the earthquake you heard... I crashed into the shelf but caught your snow-globe before it hit the floor." I shrugged. "I guess I just carried it in here afterwards." 

Stella looked at me like she sensed I was hiding something for a second, then flashed one of her pixie smiles. "Alright, whatever. Just put it back when you're done coloring." 

I looked at the Uni-bomber note and frowned. "I'm fine, by the way," I said.

She stood up from the table and took a look at my toe, then kissed me on the cheek loudly. "Did you bleed on any of my clothes?" she chirped. 

I shook my head. 

"Good." She stood there, suddenly hesitant. She looked me in the eyes. "You're sure there's nothing going on? I feel like you're not telling me something." She eyed the crayon prediction again, warily. 

"I'm fine, just woke up in a weird mood." 

Stella's mouth tightened. "You remember our promise, right? No secrets." 

That was Stella's cardinal rule of our relationship: no secrets. She could, and usually did, forgive any of my other shortcomings and errors, any offense but not telling the truth, in matters both great and small. "I can deal with anything as long as I know exactly what I'm dealing with," she would say. 

"I remember," I said. "If I had something to tell you I would," I said. 

Her eyes narrowed. "You'd better." Then her face brightened. "I'll shower first," she said and, coffee cup in hand, she padded towards the bedroom. 

As I watched her walk away, it was all I could do not to tell her about my newest 'vision:' 

The phone was about to ring. Our manager would be on the other line, eager to tell us that some suits from Mtv were coming to town this weekend and wanted to catch our show. It could be the break we'd been waiting for.

As we had nothing scheduled, our manager would assure us that he was calling in favors to get us on the bill at one of the local clubs. 

The urge to tell Stella that this was about to happen coursed through me, but I resisted it. It would just freak her out. I would only be telling her to further prove to myself what was happening. 

I thought again of our oath to never to keep secrets from each other. I wanted to tell her. I did. But I didn't know how. I needed to find out more about what was happening before I sprang it on her. 

Sure enough, the phone rang and I heard Stella pick it up in the bedroom. Two minutes later she ran into the kitchen with the good news, everything was just as I'd foreseen. She bounced on her toes with excitement as she told me about the phone call. 

But when she finished, her pretty face furrowed. "Didn't you hear me? Mtv. That's what we need, right?" 

"Yeah, it's great," I said, trying to sound excited. 

Stella snorted in disgust, but the smile returned as she left the room. "I wish sometimes you weren't such a burnout," she said over her shoulder.