It’s kinda fun to do the impossible.
She crunched the rest of the cookie and tucked the paper
fortune into her pocket.
“What did yours say?” Becky asked her.
Stella told her.
“In bed!” Becky shrieked.
Stella smiled without her eyes and excused herself to go to
the bathroom.
She ducked outside instead and lit a cigarette. It was
weirdly warm for New Year’s. The air felt saturated, muggy almost. Every so
often, though, there’d be a tinge of breeze that reminded her that winter had
only just gotten started. She smiled, a real one this time.
Stella had always liked winter. There were fewer people
outside and, if the city got around to plowing sidewalks with any competence,
easier for her to walk. Walking was her preferred method of dealing with her
world. Tonight was an exception, but she’d parked the car she'd borrowed from her brother almost a kilometre away and
walked to Becky and Todd's house.
She stepped out from beneath the roof under hang and went
down the short step into the driveway, away from the porch light. At the end of
the snowless driveway, she looked up at the sky. It was cloud covered and the
colour of old potato flesh.
Soon, all the people inside would get their coats on and
tramp down the road to the big field at the end and set off fireworks. They'd done it every year since high school; it was their 20th year doing it. Once upon a time she had enjoyed the colours, but they really did freak out wildlife and that made her
sad and a little angry. Why should we be allowed to fuck with their nightly
activities to survive just because we want to see pretty lights in the sky?
Stella shook her head. “Oh no you don’t,” she said aloud, puffing on her cigarette. “Don’t go down that fucking road tonight.”
She
pinched out the cigarette’s heater, stepped on it, then put the cigarette butt
into a small metal tin she had for the purpose. Sure, smoking was stupid and
she’d probably die of lung cancer, but she was no litterbug. Stella always followed rules that made sense to her, which had earned her the "Most Unlikely to Serve Prison Time" description in their high school year book. Becky, of course, had thought it was hysterical.
“There you are!” Becky now called from the porch. “C’mon, I’ve
got your coat.”
“Thanks,” Stella said, taking her coat. “My feet are a little cold, though. I'm gonna go get my boots.”
She ducked back inside and waited until everyone else left
before peeking out the front door. Becky had been swept along with the others
at some point.
She could hear voices in the kitchen. There was always a
skeleton crew left who didn’t go to the fireworks for one reason or another.
She grabbed a bottle of champagne from the collection on the table in the
living room, hurried into her boots, and left the house, turning left where
everyone else had turned right. The pops and sputters and shrieks gradually faded
as she walked.
She’d parked at the far end of the field from where the fireworks
were being set off. She sat on the hood of the car and popped the champagne
cork, quickly drinking from the bottle to capture all the wine as it was
ejected from the pressure. A lot dribbled down her chin. She laughed and set
the bottle down.
She waited. It wouldn’t be long now. They were almost done;
after all these years, she knew the pattern. Here came the rapid-fire
succession of starbursts, the beginning of the end.
She took out a cell phone, the old flip kind, pushed a
couple of buttons.
The field exploded in light. She saw human-shaped flames dancing. She heard the far away screams. She hoped one of them was Becky. “In bed!” Stella envisioned her
screeching.
She broke the cell phone by the hinge. On the drive home,
she threw one part into a garbage can at McDonald’s and the other into an
autobody shop’s dumpster.
She finished the rest of the champagne as she drove, the
bottle nestled between her legs. She lit a cigarette and as she fished around
in her pocket for her lighter, her fingers touched the fortune.
It’s kinda fun to do the impossible.
Yep, she said to herself, snagging her lighter at last.
