Requiem for a Dream

by Hubert Selby Jr.

, Well, I guess maybe a little. Harry rolled his eyes back again. A little. Jesus, I can hear ya grinding ya teeth from here. But that goes away at night. At night? When I take the green one. In thirty minutes Im asleep. Poof, just like that. Harry kept shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Hey ma, ya gotta cut that stuff loose. Its no good. Who said its no good. Twenty five pounds I lost. Twenty five pounds. Big deal. Yeah, big deal. Do ya wanta be a dope fiend fa krists sake? Whats this dope fiend? Am I foaming at the mouth? Hes a nice doctor. He even has grandchildren. I saw the pictures on his desk. Harry hit himself on the forehead, Ma, Im tellin ya, this croakers no good. Ya gotta stop takin those pills. Youll get strung out fa krists sake. Strung, schmung. I almost fit in my red dress, Saras face softened, the one I wore at your bar mitzvah. The one your father liked so much. I Temember how he looked at me in the red dress and gold sloes. The only time he saw me in the red dress. Its not long after that he got sick and died and youre without a father my poor boobala, but thank God he saw you bar mitzvahed and— Whats with the red dress? What does that— Im going to war the red dress on television. O, you dont know. Im going to be on the television. I got a call and a application and socn Im on television— Comeon, ma, whose pullin ya leg? Leg, schmeg. Im telling you Im being a contestant on the television. They havent told me yet what one, but when Im ready theyll tell. Youll see, youll be proud when you see your mother in her red dress and golden shoes on the television. You sure someone aint puttin you on? On, schmon. I got an official form. Printing and everything. Harry was nodding and shaking his head, Okay, okay. So its official. Youre goin to be on television. You should be happy Im going on television. All the ladies theyre happy. You should be happy too. Im happy ma, Im happy. Look, Im smilin. But what does that have to do with takin those goddamn pills fa krists sake. The red dress shrunk, Sara was smirking and giggled slightly, and its a little tight, so Im losing some weight, what do you think? But ma, those pills are bad for you. Bad? How can they be bad? I got them from a doctor. I know they are ma, I know. How come you know so much? How come you know more about medicine than the doctor? Harry took a deep breath and almost sighed, I know ma, believe me I know. And theyre not medicine. Theyre just diet pills. Just diet pills. Just diet pills. Those just diet pills took off already twenty five pounds and we havent stopped yet. But ma you dont have to take that shit to lose weight. Sara was hurt and perplexed, Harry whats wrong? Why you talking like this? All I want is to fit in my red dress. The dress for your bar mitzvah. Your father loved the dress Harry. Im going to wear that dress. I'll wear it on the television. Youll be proud of me Harry. But ma, whats the big deal about being on television? Those pillsll kill ya before ya ever get on fa krists sake. Big deal? So who do you know thats been on television? Who? Harry was shaking his head in frustration. Who? In the whole neighborhood whos been on the television. Whos even been asked? You know who Harry? You know who the only one whos been even asked. Sara Goldfarb. Thats who. The only one in the whole neighborhood whos been even asked. You drove up in a cab— Harry was nodding and shaking his head, Yeah, I drove up in a cab— You see who had the sun seat? You notice your mother in the special spot getting the sun?—Harry was still nodding and shaking—You know who everybody talks to? You know whos somebody now? Whos no longer just a widow in a little apartment who lives all alone? Im a somebody now Harry. You see how nice my red hair—Harry blinked rapidly and muttered a holy shit under his breath. Her hair was bright red and he hadnt even noticed. It still didnt make much sense but he figured that her hair must have been a different color before, but he couldn't remember what it was— so guess how many of the ladies are going to get red hair? Go ahead, guess? Ma, whatta my goin to guess? Six. Six ladies. Before I got red hair people on the street, little kids, maybe they say something, but now they know, even little children, Im going on the television and they like the red hair and they like me. Everyone likes me. Soon millions of people will see me and like me. And I'll tell them about you and your father. I'll tell them how your father liked the red dress and the big party he made for your bar mitzvah. Remember? Harry nodded, feeling defeated and worn out. He didnt know what was defeating him, but he sensed it was something he could not cope with, something that was far beyond his power to control or even at this point in time comprehend. He had never seen his mother so alive, so involved with anything in her life. The only time he had ever seen anybody so enthused and excited was when somebody told an old dope fiend about some good shit and he had enough money to cop. His mother had a light in her eyes when she talked about the television and her red dress that he couldnt remember seeing there before. Maybe when he was a little kid, but he couldnt remember back that far. Something in her attitude was so strong that it simply overpowered him and made any continued resistance or attempt to change her mind impossible. He just passively sat and watched and listened to his mother, part of him confused, and part of him happy that she was happy. And who knows what [ might win? A new refrigerator. A Rolls-Royce maybe. Robert Redford. Robert Redford? So whats wrong with Robert Redford? Harry just blinked and shook his head, bewildered, and went with the flow. Sara looked at her son, her only child, with a tangible earnestness, the grin and grinding gone, replaced with a plea that softened her eyes and calmed her voice, Its not the prizes Harry. It doesn't make any difference if I win or lose or if I just shake hands with the announcer. Its like a reason to get up in the morning. Its a reason to lose weight so I can be healthy. Its a reason to fit in the red dress. Its a reason to smile already. It makes tomorrow alright. Sara leaned a little closer to her son, What have I got Harry? Why should I even make the bed or wash the dishes? I do them, but why should I? Im alone. Seymours gone, youre gone—Harry tried to protest but his mouth hung silently open—I have no one to take care of. Ada does the hair. Anybody. Everybody. What do I have? Im lonely Harry. Im old. Harry was completely flustered, his head shaking, eyes blinking, hands fidgeting with each other, voice stammering, You got friends ma, what— Its not the same. You need someone to make for. How can I shop when I dont cook for someone? I buy an onion, a carrot, an occasional chicken, a little nosh, Sara shrugged, for me how can I cook a roast? a special . . . special . . . anything? No Harry, I like how I feel this way. I like thinking about the red dress and the television . . . and your father and you. Now when I get the sun I smile. I'll come visit ma. Now that Im straight, my business is going good, I'll come. Me and Marion—Sara was shaking her head and smiling— honest ma. I swear. We'll come for dinner. Soon. Sara shook her head and smiled at her only child, trying hard to believe, Good, you bring her and I' ll make your favorite borscht and stuffed fish. That sounds great ma. I'll give ya a call ahead a time, okay? Sara nodded, Good. Im glad. Im glad you got a nice girl and a good business. Im glad. Your father and I were always wanting only the very best for you. I see on the television how its always alright in the end. All the time. Sara got up and put her arms around her son and hugged him close to her, tears gently caressing her cheeks, Im glad Harry that you have someone to be with. You should be healthy and happy. And have lots of babies. Dont have only one. Its no good. Have lots of babies. Theyll make you happy. Harry did the best he could to hug his mother and allow her to hug him without trying to pull away, and he held on to her with desperation, the reason why completely unknown to him, something impelling him to hold, and be held, for as long as possible, as if this were some momentous event. He felt cramped and crowded, but he hung on somehow against his will. Eventually, just when he thought he would disintegrate, his mother backed off slightly and looked into his face and smiled, Look, Im crying already. Im so happy Im crying. Harry forced his face into a tight smile with the utmost of effort, Im glad youre happy ma. I really love ya. An Im sorry—Sara shook her head and waved away his apologies, tosh, tosh—I really am. But Im goin ta make it up now. You should just be happy. Dont worry about me. Im used to being alone. They looked at each other for a moment, silent and smiling, and Harry thought his face was about to crack open and he moved and looked at his
watch, I got to go ma. I have an appointment downtown in a couple a minutes. But I'll be back. Good. I'll make for you. You still have your key? Yeah, I got it ma, shpwing her his key ring. I'd better hurry. Im late now. Goodbye son, and Sara gave him another hug and kiss, and Harry left. Sara looked at the door for many minutes, time seeming to have no meaning, then poured herself another cup of coffee and sat at the table nurturing her feeling of sadness. She thought of Harry as a little baby with chunky legs and cheeks and dressing him warm and wrapping three blankets around him when she took him out in the cold weather, and when he started to walk, and how he loved the playground, and the slide, and the swings, and then the coffee started to stimulate the chemicals in her body and her heart started beating faster and she started grinding her teeth and clenching her jaw and a feeling of elation started to pump its way through her and she started to think about her red dress and the weight she was losing and the television— zophtic, zophtic—and her face started to squeeze itself into a grin and she decided to finish the pot of coffee and then go out and tell the ladies about how good her Harry was doing with his own business and a fiancee and how she'll soon be a grandmother. It was a happy ending.

  Harry felt confused and bewildered when he left his mothers. He was not only confused and bewildered, he was aware of it. He knew he always had a hard time being around his mother, she always seemed to know how to push his buttons and drive him up the wall, but something happened this time that was different and unexpected, and he didnt know what in the hell it was. He didnt feel like lashing out at her but rather he felt like crawling up inside himself. Or maybe he always felt like that. He didnt know. Shit! It was confusing as hell. Red hair. Red dress. Television. It all seemed so goofy yet there was something happening, a feeling of some kind, that seemed to make it alright. Maybe it was because his mother was happy. That was a gasser. He never realized how much he wanted his mother to be happy. Never thought of it like that before. It was just that she was always a drag to be around. But she sure as hell was up today. Yeah, on those goddamn pills. Jesus, he didn't know what in the hell to do. His old lady on those goddamn diet pills and dyeing her hair red . . . Harry shook his head as the words and thoughts and feelings bombarded him, increasing his confusion and bewilderment. He didnt know what was happening with his mother, but he sure as hell knew that he needed a fix. Yeah, a little taste and everything will be just fine.

  For many weeks Tyrone was able to cop that dynamite shit that they were able to cut four times and still put a boss bag on the streets. That safety deposit box was filling up with bucks and they were nosing around to see where they could get a pound of pure. They had to be as quiet as possible so that the wrong people didnt get ideas and rip them off. There seemed to be some new people peddlin the shit and they were the people they were trying to get in contact with because they were the ones putting out that dynamite. They handnt made the contact yet, but they were getting close, real close. And things were going great. Theyd lay off the stuff to the street guys and just lay back and let the business take care of itself. The demand was always there. It was definitely a sellers market and they just waited for them to come to them. They realized they didnt have to sweat it so they dipped a little more into the merchandise. They didnt have to get worried about being strung out when they were the connection, not that that was a real problem. They knew they could stop any time they wanted to. If they should ever want to.

  Another couple of weeks passed and Sara still hadnt heard from the television people, but that didnt bother her at all until today. Today she got up and tried on the red dress and she could actually zip the back closed. The last few inches vere tucking and tugging, tucking and tugging, with also a little grunting and a lot of deep breathing, but it closed. Soon she would be able to wear it and breathe at the same time. Now she started to become concerned about hearing from them what show she would be on and when. If even they didn't tell her when, if she just knew the show she could watch it and know what to expect, sort of a rehearsal, and she could tell the ladies and she could maybe have them in to watch the show on her gorgeous new set that her son Harry gave her now that he is doing so well in business, his own business, and she wished he would come with his fiancee to dinner and she could make the borscht and stuffed fish that Harry likes so much just like his father who used to always smack his lips and ask for more . . . Sara sighed . . . but Harry called the other day to ask how she was and say hello and tell her again he would soon visit but he couldnt do it now because he was all tied up with business. But couldnt you come? If even for only a little while? Ma, I toldya, I'm tied up. I got a. lot of irons in the fire and I have ta be around ta take care a them. Your own mother? Not even a little visit? What did I do Harry that you should not want to see me? Whatta ya talkin about for krists sake? I aint doin nothin to ya. You could come with your fiancee and let me give her a hug and a kiss. You oughtta lay off those pills. Theyre makin ya goofier than usual. So now Im crazy? Who said anything about crazy? Hey ma, will you lighten up and stop playin those guilt games with my head? Games? What games? Just cool it, eh? I just called ya up to tell ya I love ya and that I'll see ya soon and you start laying guilt trips on me and I dont need it, okay? Okay, okay. I dont know what you dont need, but okay. I guess maybe you dont need me, but okay. Harry breathed deeply and shook his head and squeezed the phone, hard, and thanked God he had sense enough to get off before making the call, Look ma, I dont wanta hassle you, okay? I love ya an I'll see you soon. Take care. Be well Harry. He hung up and she shrugged and poured herself another cup of coffee and sat at the table waiting expectantly for the coffee to reactivate the diet pills and send that flush of euphoria through her system and soon she was grinning and grinding and went back out to the street to join the ladies and get some sun. And if she didnt hear from the television by Monday she would give them a call.

  Harry and Marion were getting off twice a day, sometimes more, and inbetween were smoking a lot of pot and dropping an occasional pill. They looked at Marions sketches of the coffee house they were going to open, but with diminishing frequency and enthusiasm. Somehow there just didnt seem to be time for it though they spent a lot of time just lying around and not doing much of anything in particular and making vague plans for the future and enjoying the feeling that everything would always be alright, just like it was now. When Harry resigned from the business, Marion insisted they would not live in the suburbs, and they would not live in a house with a white picket fence, and they would not barbecue on Sundays, and they would not— Hey, wait a second, eh? What are we going to do? and he grabbed her by a boob and put his other arm around her and kissed her on the throat and she pushed him away and giggled and hunched her shoulders to cover her neck, Dont, dont, Im ticklish. Okay, so we're not going to tickle you either. So what else? We're not going to own a Cadillac, and we're not going to visit my family at Passover, as a matter of fact we are not going to have a Passover or even have a box of matzoh in the house. Harry kept nodding his head and rolling his eyes as she counted off another will not, But we will have a nice place in the west side of the Village, and we will stop in for an occasional drink in a neighborhood bar, and we will shop on Bleecker Street and have lots of nice cheese, especially provolone, hanging in the kitchen, and anything else we want. Harry raised his eyebrows, O, anything else we want? Dont worry about it Harry, we'll be able to have it. He smiled and pulled her close to him, I have it now, and he kissed her and slowly moved the palm of his hand over her ass, you have everything I want. Marion put her arms around his neck, O Harry, I love you. You make me feel like a person, like Im me and Im beautiful. You are beautiful. Youre the most beautiful woman in the world. Youre my dream.

  As usual, Sara started her day on Monday with her purple pill and a pot of coffee, but somehow it wasnt doing what she was used to it doing. The weight was still coming off and the red dress was zipping up without too much stuffing, but there was something missing, even after a pot of coffee. She didnt feel the same li
ke she did when she first started taking the pills. It was like they took something out of them. Maybe they made a mistake and gave her the wrong pills? Maybe she should get stronger ones? She called the doctors office and talked with the nurse and asked two, three, how many times, if she was sure she didnt give her the wrong pills? No Mrs. Goldfarb, Im absolutely certain. But maybe you gave me a smaller one the last time. That isnt possible Mrs. Goldfarb. You see they are all the same potency. The change is in the color. All the purple are the same strength, all the red, etc. But something isnt the same. Youre just becoming adjusted to them. At first you may get a strong reaction, but after a while that wears off and you just dont feel like eating. Its nothing to worry about Mrs. Goldfarb. You mean Im—I have to hang up, my other phone is ringing. Sara looked at the phone for a second, So click. Maybe shes right. Im not eating—zophtic, zophtic—and the dress is going on. She sighed, Im thinking thin. She unthinkingly made another pot of coffee while looking at her jar of tea, and drank it as she puttered around the house before putting on a sweater and going out to get some sun with the ladies. It was a little chilly in the morning now, and evenings, but they still sat and in the afternoon it was warmer. She put her chair in her spot for a while and then got up, but without her usual buoyancy and smile. Sit, sit. Why you have to be all the time like a yo yo. I'll sit. I feel a little jumpy today. Today youre feeling jumpy? Yesterday you were sitting quiet and calm? Sara, for weeks youre like a young girl thinking about Robert Redford, the ladies laughing and chuckling. You should relax. Soon youll be on the television and you shouldnt be like a jitterbug, chuckling and laughter. Im waiting, Im waiting. I think it will come today and then I can relax when I know what show and maybe theyll tell me when. Sara shrugged, Who knows. The red dress fits now, Sara still pacing around in a small circle, then walking out to the curb, looking up and down the street but not paying attention to what she was seeing, then going back to the ladies, sitting for a moment, then up again and pacing in ever widening circles, but my hair needs a touch up. So tomorrow we'll fix it up like new and youll be gorgeous just like Rita Hayworth. Sara posed with a hand on her hip, Zophtic, the ladies laughing. Sara looked up and down the street again, Todays the day. I know, todays the day.