Requiem for a Dream

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Requiem for a Dream Page 4

by Hubert Selby Jr.


  Harry and Tyrone C. were walking through the park, spending most of their energy in trying to avoid the kids who were running around screaming or flying by on skates or a skateboard, never knowing from which end or side the attack might come. Sheeit, I dont know why they got to have a summer vacation. They oughtta keep those little muthas in school all the time. You kiddin? theyd tear the school down. This way it saves the taxpayers money. Now aint this a bitch, this muthafucka aint worked in his natural life an he worried about taxpayers. Hey man, ya gotta worry about those things. Whats the matta with you, aint ya responsible? Oooooo, listen to this shit, this stud has gone and blew his cool. Comeon baby, lets get somethin to eat, youse in serious trouble. They strolled over to a hot dog pushcart and got a couple with onions and mustard and red pepper, and a bottle of soda. When they finished they walked as far as possible from the playground and stretched out on the grass. Ya know man, I wasnt bullshit about gettin a piece. Hey baby, Im down. Well, then lets stop fuckin around and get with it. Sheeit, get with what? We aint got no braid. No shit? I thought we had money up the gazoo. That the only place we got it. Well lets stop fuckin the duck and figure out how we can pick up the bread. How much do we need?

  Ah dont know exactly. Couple hundred. Best be going up there with four hundred that way you knows you got enough no matter what comes down. Are you sure Brody can cop a piece for us? Man, what the fuck you talkin about? Course Im sure. Even after he take his tase we got enough to cut it in haf and double our braid and have a nice tase for us. Im hip. He sure does have some dynamite shit. But I dont want to get into it heavy man. I dont wanta blow the whole thing by getting strung out. You damn right. You be cool an we have a whole string of runny nosed dope fiens off en our shit for us. Yeah, thats the only way to go man. Ive seen cats get strung out and they blow their whole scene and end up in the slammer. Sheeit, we too smart for that baby. Yeah, they slapped palms. So where do we get the bread? Ah dont know baby, but ah dont want to go rippin nobody off. Ah aint been in no joint an ah wants to keep it that way. O man, be cool. What am I, a ganggester? The old ladys TV is one thing, but a robberys something else. We could sell hot dogs. Yeah sure, whos gonna push the cart? Doan look at me baby, ahs a salesman. Hahaha, what a scene that would be ... jesus, I could see you openin the bun and me floppin a hot dog in an then we flip a coin to see who puts the mustard on. Well, lease we wouldnt be hongry. Well man, I aint worried about that. Comeon, Ty, think. There must be a way we can pick up a couple a yards in a hurry. They smoked, and squinted and scratched, then Tyrone flipped his butt away and rubbed his head, sort of stroking it to activate the gray matter . . . and relieve any itch he might have. You know, theres a couple of dudes that goes down to the newspaper like four or five in the mornin and shapes up to load trucks. How much they get? Ah doan know man, but ah do know that theys always wearin some fine threads an driven some really pretty shorts. Yeah? Harry looked at Tyrone for a minute. Hmmmmmmm. Whatta ya think? Tyrone was still rubbing his head, but now he was more or less caressing it. Well man, ah tellya, ah aint so hot on that workin shit, ah mean ah dont like it any more than you. Yeah . .. five oclock in the mornin. Jesus. I thought even bartenders were asleep at that time . . . but. . . Harry continued to stare and Tyrone C. Love continued to rub. Whatta ya think? Ah doan know baby. . . . But ah guess we could sort of maybe go see whats happenin down there. Harry shrugged, Shit, why not? Tyrone stopped rubbing his head and slapped Harrys hand then Harry slapped his and they got up and strolled from the grass to the path, then along the path through the park to the street as a couple of sparrows swooped down to claim a few Crackerjack crumbs. Harry figured he'd go home while they were working so he'd be sure to get up on time. If I tell the old lady I got a job she'll be sure to get me up. I guess we'll have ta get up about four, eh? to be sure to get there on time . . . four oclock in the morning, that seems impossible. Then jus think a that piece a pure shit baby, thatll get your ass up. Then you come by mah crib an get me up. You bet your sweet ass. If I have to get up youre gonta get up. They laughed and slapped palms and Harry was about to turn to go and get ready to start the new routine that would make them big time dealers, when they spotted a friend rushing along the street. Hey, whats happening baby? You look like the man is afta you. Whats the rush? You know Little Joey, the cat with the ripped ear? Yeah, sure. From across the avenue. Yeah, thats the dude. He an Tiny an some other cat just copped from Windy and before Joey emptied the dropper he was gone jim. O.d. just like that. They say he just had a tase an he was out. So Tiny horns a little just to be cool, ya know, an he gets wasted jim. No shit? You straight? Ya goddamn right. Why ya think Im hustlin my ass over to Windys? I wanna get there before he finds out what he has jim. That mutha fucka got a habit thats so long even mule piss wouldnt get him high. Harry and Tyrone joined in the rush to Windys. They could always go to work some other time, but you dont always get a chance to score for some dyn a mite shit like this.

  The next night they still had some stuff left, it was that good. Man, somebody sure did screw up. That stuff shoulda been cut at least a half dozen times. Sheeit, there better not be too much around jim or theres gonna be a lot a daid dudes in this town. Man, whats a couple a more stiffs in this town? Sheeit, they drive the man nuts tryin to figure whats goin down.

  They were feeling mellow and realized that there was no point in thinking of going to work tomorrow morning, which was only a few hours away. There was no sense in ruining a good high with work. They decided to fall by Tonys pad to see what was happening.

  The streets were filled with the actions and sounds of a summers night. The stoops and firescapes were filled with people and there were hundreds of games of dominoes and cards, the players surrounded with onlookers, cans of beer and bottles of wine being passed around. Kids would burst past the games and the players would automatically yell at them without taking their eyes off the game or missing a drink. It was a nice night. A pleasant evening. There seemed to be stars somewhere and it was easy to avoid stepping in the garbage and dog shit on the streets. A truly beautiful night.

  Tony lived in a converted loft in an old industrial building. Actually what was meant by converted was that there was a bed at one end and a stove and refrigerator at the other end. In between was a lot of space. Usually the space was dotted with people getting high, getting higher, or wondering why they werent high yet. When Harry and Tyrone got there there were a few people sitting around on the floor. Tony sat in the only chair, a large, overstuffed, ripped and torn chair that had huge wings that made it look as if it was going to close itself around Tony and somehow swallow and digest him and he would end up on a shelf somewhere in the dark and dusty corner of a secondhand furniture store staring back at the cat sitting on the floor staring up at him, a not-for-sale sign hanging from his chest. He was watching television, the set a large old console that was the perfect companion for the chair and fit in perfectly in the loft. Tony had a Chinese water pipe hanging from a cord around his neck. The bowl was filled with hash and he took a poke, from time to time, always staring at the set. A few people were sitting around a hookah that had been filled with wine, the bowl filled with pot, a piece of hash on top. Marion had just taken a poke when Harry and Tyrone walked in. They squatted next to the others. Whats happenin man? Hey baby, whatsgoin down? Whats happenin? Same old thing man. The stem was handed to Harry and he sucked on it for a minute then handed it to Tyrone. When Harry finally exhaled he leaned back a little and looked at Marion. Hows it goin? O, the same old thing. Harry nodded toward the hookah, Thats some nice hash. Uh huh. Its really doin a number on my head. Just smoothed it right out. Harrys eyes were closed slightly and his face was relaxed in a smile. I figured that. Youre sure lookin good. Marions face burst into a sudden grin and she chuckled, Is that supposed to be a compliment, or you playing the dozens? Harry spread his arms and shrugged, his face still in a sleepy grin.

  Sometimes Im not too swave when Im ripped. Marion chuckled a little louder, Maybe not, but youre
a lot more sociable. You know, you have a really nice smile when you relax, like you are now. Harry laughed then leaned a little closer, I aint got no choice baby, I feel so relaxed I think Im going to melt. Marion laughed and squeezed Harrys hand, then took the hose and took another poke from the pipe then passed it to Harry. He laughed, This is just what I need now . . . you know, to sort of help me get rid of the tension, right? Marion shook her head and strained not to laugh as she held the smoke in her lungs. Tyrone pushed the hose closer to Harrys face, Comeon mah man, you can talk that trash later. Jus take your hit an git on with it. Harry took a poke, concentrating as hard as possible, then passed the hose to Fred. Tyrone watched as Fred sucked on the hose in one long continuous breath that seemed to last five minutes, that threatened to force the hashish to burst into flames it glowed so brighly under the force of air. Damn, this muthafucka goin to suck up that hash right through the pipe. Look see if he dont have a hole in the back of his haid, all that air gotta be goin somewheres. Fred finally took the hose from his mouth and passed it to Tyrone, a broad, dumb smile on his face, and still holding his breath he grunted, Dont get greedy baby. Tyrone started laughing, clutching the hose in both hands, and the others started giggling, and Tyrone looked down at the floor and shook his head then looked up and at Fred who still had a big shit eatin grin on his face and Tyrone started laughing harder and harder and the others started laughing and shaking their heads, unavoidably drawn to looking at Fred sitting there with that dumb grin that kept getting larger and dumber and now a momentum had been built up and no matter how hard they tried they could not stop laughing and Fred continued to hold his breath although he felt like he was suffocating and his face was flushing more and more and his eyes were bulging and Tyrone kept pointing at him and shaking his head and laughing and sputtering, Shee . . . Shee . . . and finally Fred blurted the air out and quickly sucked in some more and shook his head back and forth, Gahddamn, and the others laughed uncontrollably and Tony took another hit on his pipe and frowned at the television set as the story was interrupted for a commercial, and then a few more, and then a station break and then a few more commercials and Tony took another hit and fidgeted in his chair and started grumbling under his breath about the goddamn bullshit, he wanted to see the goddamn show not some bullshit dog eatin horse meat, and then he started yelling at the set, Go ahead ya fuckin hound, stick ya nose up her drawers. Whats the matta, donta ya like fish? Eh? Ya don't like fish ya faggot dog bastard. The others had stopped laughing, and were finished smoking the hash for a while, and were just leaning back and listening to the music and rapping and then they started to half watch and listen to Tony and the giggles started again. Hey baby, yawl shouldnt talk about faggots like that when Harrys aroun, he get his feelings hurt. Fred stuck that dumb countryboy grin on his face, How you know hes a faggot. Maybe its just a bulldike, and he suddenly started to fall apart laughing, damn, that tickles the shit outta me, hahahahahaha, a bulldog, bulldike, hahahahaha, damn, hahaha; and Tony was still grumbling incomprehensibly and the others were giggling and laughing as they watched Fred laughing and shaking his head and whenever his laughter started to subside he'd start blithering about bulldog, bulldikes and everybody started giggling again and Tony got up, his water pipe hanging from his neck, and went to the dresser and took something out of a drawer and plopped back into his chair and disappeared from sight behind the enveloping wings and put a fresh piece of hash in the bowl and lit it and took a couple of long pokes, as the show came back on, then settled back and silently and motionlessly watched the show. Fred finally exhausted himself and was incapable of any more laughter although he continued to shake his head and grin and the others avoided looking at him because when they did they started laughing and everyone had pains in their sides from laughing and so looked everywhere except at Fred, and Harry and Marion drifted away from the others and were sprawled on a few old cushions and half leaning against a wall, half listening to the music and directing most of their attention toward each other. You living alone now or do you have a roomie? No, Im alone. You know that. Harry shrugged, Hey, how do I know? The last time I remember bein at your pad you had a roomie, right? My God, that's months ago. Wow, is it that long ago? Tempus really fugits, eh? Sometimes. Sometimes it seems to stand still. Like youre in a bag and you cant get out and somebodys always telling you that it will get better with time and time just seems to stand still and laugh at you and your pain. . . . And then eventually it does break and its six months later. Like you just got your summer clothes out and then its Christmas and inbetween there are ten years of pain. Harry smiled, Jesus, all I said was hello and you give me ya fingerprint classification. But Im glad youre alright. Marion laughed and Harry lit a joint and took a couple of quick pokes and handed it to Marion. Tony started to jerk slightly, his movements involuntary as he sensed a coming disaster. He was absorbed in the show as much as possible and wondering how the heavy was going to cool that bad dude and rip off the broad, pullin for the cat just as hard as possible, but something in him knew that that goddamn television set was plotting against him, that it was just layin back and waiting to getim. He lit his pipe again and took a couple of long pokes then snuffed the hash and stared at the television, Youd better not fuck with me ya son of a bitch. Im warnin ya. He stopped twitching and settled back into his chair and disappeared once again from sight. Marion chuckled, He really has his own S&M scene going on with that thing, doesn't he? Yeah. Hes like a guy with a broad who wont giveim a little. The others were half watching Tony too, and smiling, enjoying him, as they had many times before, more than anything on the tube he was watching. You know somethin man, he think thats his ol lady. Shit, he aint never talked to his ol lady like that. They laughed and went back to their listening, talking and smoking. Harry was sort of leaning against Marion as she slowly stroked his head and played with his hair as they listened to the music. From time to time he would leisurely reach up and rub the nipple of a boob with his fingertip, or caress a boob with the palm of his hand, ever so gently, not through design, but a kind of reverie. He would watch his fingertip rubbing the protruding nipple and imagine it under her blouse and think of opening her blouse and kissing it, but it seemed like too much of an undertaking at the moment and so he postponed it and just listened to the music and moved with the flow of the stroking of his head, surrendering deeper and deeper into the sensual currents it stoked. You know somethin baby, that feels better than a fix. It really turns me on. I like it too. I have always liked curly hair. It feels good around the fingers. You cant just push through like straight hair. It resists. Like it has a life of its own and it feels exciting when you defeat it, and Marion watched her fingers going through Harrys hair, watching the ends twist and bob as her fingers worked their way through, and then she would twirl the hair with a finger, watching it snap and bounce, then let the hair caress the palm of her hand then close her fingers and raise her hand slowly feeling the hair slowly slide between the fingers, her fingers, aware that she was creating a rhythm to her caressing that was governing her breathing and then she became a part of the breathing and flowed into the ripples that tingled through her as Harry rubbed the nipple of a breast between fingertips, imagining her rosy nipple and how it would feel between his lips, when Tony started yelling at the goddamn television again, Youd betta not do it prick. Im warnin ya ya lousy bastad, Ive had enough a ya shit, and he squirmed in his chair and peered defiantly at the television screen and Tyrone giggled his giggle, Ah doan mind him fat mouthin that set, but I sure hope the muthafucka doan start talkin back toim cause when that happens ah gotta cut loose this shit and split jim, and he took another good poke and turned his head so he wouldnt be lookin into the dumbass grin of Freds who was always doin that, tryin to get him to gag and spit out the smoke; and somebody broke out some amyl-nitrite and popped it open and held a finger over one nostril and sniffed deeply until the popper was grabbed from his hand and the person shoved it up their nose and squeezed the other nostril shut and the both
of them fell on the floor giggling and laughing and roaring and Tony leaned forward in his seat, I knew it,

 

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